Yamada Monogatori: The Emperor in Shadow (37 page)

In all the time I had known the man, I had never once seen him look sheepish. Until now. “Kamakura.”

I am indeed an idiot.

“Taro said we had a visitor. It’s my own fault for not asking who it was.”

He sighed. “I fear this would have put your son in a very difficult position. As the emperor’s uncle, I had ordered him not to tell you. As your son, he would have been duty bound to answer your question. It was, however, the one place you would not think to look.”

“You know me very well, Highness.” It was difficult to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I am not sure I succeeded.

“And I have used that knowledge, as I know you are well aware.”

“Your tactics. The emperor’s strategy,” I said. “I did see your hand more than once, but I think I was reluctant to believe what my eyes and instincts told me. As for His Majesty—he does take after his mother.”

“More, perhaps, than you realize. Yes, the plan was his. I helped him to put it in to practice, as details and logistics are more my strength than his. I can apologize to you and perhaps I should, but it will not change anything, nor would I have acted differently had the gods granted me the chance. You have to understand this.”

“I understand where your duty lies. For so many years now it has been the same as mine. Why could you not simply tell me?”

“I promise you will understand before we part today, but now let me ask
you
a question—if you had known, what would you have done differently?”

“At the least I would not have been taken by surprise!”

“Oh? When did this happen? What could you have prevented?” Kanemore clearly saw the confusion on my face. “That is what I thought. No, Lord Yamada—we lost one princess, you and I. There was no possibility you would lose another.”

I started to answer harshly, but the words froze on my tongue as Kanemore’s meaning became clear to me. Now I understood why Tagako’s safety had meant so much to me, even beyond merely an assigned duty. I realized then just
how
well Prince Kanemore knew me—in many ways, yes, even better than I knew myself.

“Princess Tagako is not Princess Teiko,” I finally managed to say.

He smiled a sad smile. “No. She is not. I believe you will be grateful for this, one day.”

I had no answer, as I did not understand what he meant. At that moment I knew only my own pain. “All this time I believed the emperor lived under the shadow of the Fujiwara. Now I think I pity them. For cunning, for ruthless manipulation, they are simply not his equal.”

“For one who faces what he must every day, this is hardly an insult, Lord Yamada.”

I sighed. “Forgive me. I meant it only as a statement of truth.”

“Well, it is true enough. Although I know you do not find it admirable.”

I considered his words before I answered. “One such as I can afford some scruple. For one who would truly be emperor, scruple is a luxury with too dear a cost. I simply wanted to understand. I almost do. But I still think you should have told me.”

“How could I? You realize, do you not, that so far as you are concerned, one answer leads to another question, and then another? It was best for your own safety if you did not know any more than you needed to know, and this much I did tell you—guard Princess Tagako.”

I did not like his answer, but I did understand it. “Was this why Princess Tagako is still in the dark about the person she will marry?”

“Yes, as I am sure the emperor’s representative told you, the groom’s identity was kept secret to protect
him,
and we could not risk his name becoming known. It was crucial he did not appear to Norimichi as an alternate target. This could have unraveled everything.”

I frowned. “How? If the goal was to tie the royal family in closer alliance to a military family, there would have been other candidates honored to accept the risk.”

“On the contrary, there was only one,” Kanemore said. “Losing this one, especially at the wrong time, would have been the end of everything.”

“How is this possible? Who is it? Will you please tell me this?”

Prince Kanemore sighed. “You, you idiot.”

For several seconds I was incapable of human speech, though I may have made one or two gasping sounds. “But . . . but I am nothing!”

Kanemore’s expression was pure exasperation. “
Baka
! You are not nothing and never were. You are a wealthy
daimyo
in close alliance with the Seiwa Genji. You are also in the process, whether you admit or even realize it, of turning the Yamada clan into a power in its own right. For Tagako to marry you accomplishes everything a direct marriage into Lord Yoriyoshi’s bloodline would accomplish, with the advantage of not linking the Seiwa Genji directly to the emperor and thus arousing either envy or concern among the other
buke
families. In short, you are perfect.”

I kneeled then. I did not plan to do so. It was simply that my knees gave out on me. I stayed where I was for several long moments.

“Of course,” Kanemore continued, “you could always refuse the emperor’s command.”

I looked up at him. “Could I?”

“Would you?”

I thought about it but not for long. “No. However, I do have one favor I would like to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“Would you be the one to tell her? I do not think I want to be there when she finds out.”

He looked solemn. “I have my own errand to complete with the princess, so I will do as you ask. If she beats me to death with her
koto
, will you please follow her into exile? She doesn’t deserve to be alone.”

I almost smiled. “If she were to kill you because of the news you bring, I doubt she would wish my company,” I said.

“No, if I die it is on my own head. She was my friend, too, and in some ways I put her through worse than I did you.”

I frowned. “You are going to tell her?”

“Could I face her again if I did not?”

That was the Kanemore I had always known, the man I called friend. Maybe one day I could do so again. “Good fortune, to both of us.”

“We will need it. I have yet to report to His Majesty, so I must go soon. Was there anything else?”

There was. “The emperor’s health concerns me and yes, of course I know it was him to whom I spoke in the sixth ward mansion.”

Kanemore did not bother to deny it. “His health concerns all of us. He can deal with the Fujiwara, but one problem he has not been able to sidestep is the traditional role of the emperor as both chief priest of the nation and the prime leader of all ceremonial functions. These duties are onerous and both time- and energy-draining. They make governance, his true passion, difficult, even if there were no other obstacles.”

Something occurred to me. “What if someone else performed the ceremonial duties and he was free to act unhindered?”

Kanemore sighed. “That would be a miracle.”

I shook my head. “No. That would be the Ritsuryō law code. Remember, I
did
attend the Daigaku-ryō in my youth. I have not forgotten everything I learned there.”

“You are thinking of the so-called cloistered emperors?”

“They were more than so-called. An emperor who abdicates chooses his successor. That successor fulfills the ceremonial and formal duties while the ‘retired’ emperor works behind the scenes. There has been precedent since the reign of Empress Jitō.”

“Only a few, and hardly as a political strategy, as such a one’s powers are limited,” Kanemore pointed out.

“Yes, because of the prevailing power of the regency system. Michinaga, remember? Yorimichi and Norimichi are the direct result of their father’s power as Regent. But what if the power of the regency was itself limited by statute? There would be less interference and more scope for someone accustomed to working the shadows.”

I could almost hear the thought turning over in Kanemore’s head. “Tradition is a strong opponent to us here. Still, with the current chaos within the Fujiwara and the support of the Daijō-kan . . . a new law within this framework might be possible.”

“It is always good for a person to have alternatives. Even emperors.”

Prince Kanemore looked at me. “Whatever you may think of me now, it is my wish one day you will be able to forgive me.”

I bowed. “This is my wish—that one day I will realize there was nothing to forgive.”

The next letter I received from Kanemore told that he had indeed—barely—survived his meeting with Tagako, and the rest was up to me. It was still three days before I gathered enough courage to visit her. I accepted her rebuke as no less than my due, but when all was done, she said she was honored . . . and pleased. I think she was telling me the truth. I hoped she was. I do not remember much of what we talked about then. I do not believe the subject mattered as much as the fact we did talk easily to one another for quite some time. I do know we spoke of plans and arrangements. Tagako was adamant she would come with me to Kamakura rather than keeping a separate residence in the Capital, as was the custom. Secretly I was happy about that, as I was no longer certain if I could bring myself to set foot in the Capital again. I wanted to be gone as soon as possible. I was relieved that Princess Tagako felt the same. Before we could depart, before our formal relationship could be acknowledged and celebrated, however, there was one final meeting to arrange.

Late afternoon the next day found me approaching the shores of Lake Biwa, and the scene of my worst memory. Morofusa scouted ahead to make certain there was no one around, and only then was I allowed to go forward on my own. I stood on the shore of the sacred lake facing east as the sun began to set behind me. For once, I was not going to wait for Princess Teiko’s ghost to appear.

“I do not know if you can hear me, but I do believe you can. Your son is emperor. More to the heart of the matter, your son will
be
emperor, in a way this land has not known since the time of Emperor Temmu.”

The ghost light appeared on the shore of the lake, and Princess Teiko’s ghost appeared before me. I felt all the regret I had ever felt, looking at her now. This had not changed, but neither would what I had to say.

“Your son works in the shadows even better than you did. I have no worry as to his ability to deal with his enemies. Perhaps there were one or two concerns in which I was of assistance, but they are done. He no longer needs me. He no longer needs
you
, either.”

Her outline shimmered and glistened like the surface of the lake where she had died, but she said nothing. One final time, I would speak for both of us.

“Highness, you said I would know, and I do know. I am done. There is no more I can do for your son. More, there is no more which
needs
doing. Do you understand? I am leaving . . . and so are you.”

“Your anger is gone, and for this I thank you. Yet one thing remains.” Her voice was faint and seemed to grow fainter from one word to the next, as if the distance between us was growing.

I braced myself. “What is it?”

“Look after Tagako. She will do as much for you.”

I bowed. “Do not worry.”

Princess Teiko glided toward me and leaned forward as if to kiss my forehead, but she vanished before she reached me. All that was left was her voice, so faint on the wind that I am still not certain what she said, but what I heard was this:

“Sweet fool. I always did.”

I stood alone on the shores of the lake but not for very long. I joined Morofusa and Ujiyasu where they were waiting.

“Is your business concluded?” Morofusa asked.

“After so very long? Yes, I believe it is.”

Morofusa and Ujiyasu exchanged glances. “I don’t understand, Yamada-sama, you were not gone for more than a few moments.”

I smiled. I knew they would not understand what I said next, but it was true. “On the contrary—I have been away for most of my life. But I am back now.”

Epilogue

The priests kept the gods of death at bay for four good years, and in that time Emperor Go-Sanjo ruled well and wisely. Then his health demanded he abdicate in favor of his son, Sadahito-tennō, who was enthroned as Emperor Shirakawa. Go-Sanjo took the tonsure and lived for almost another year before he passed. I do not know what he did during that time or whether what I had said to Prince Kanemore had made any difference. I do know the law restricting the power of the office of regent had been enacted, so if Go-Sanjo’s son did not take a lesson from his father’s actions, I will be quite surprised. Perhaps he will be able to move to the cloister sooner rather than later, or perhaps not. I try not to care, which is much easier than I ever imagined it would be. Events in the Capital these days seem far removed from my life.

Tagako-hime and I have three daughters together: Rie, Kaoru, and Raishi. They resemble their mother in both beauty and temperament, for which I am more grateful than I can say. Tagako is already considering matches for them. I will counsel patience, while she will pretend to listen and then do what she thinks best. This arrangement usually works well for all concerned, so there is a predictability to the domestic aspect of my life which I find very comfortable, just as there are other aspects which never will be.

It seems Prince Kanemore was right about me, so far as the direction of the Yamada clan was concerned. Taro—I mean Kiyomichi—is working closely with Morofusa. Together they train mounted archers in alliance with the Seiwa Genji. Lord Yoshiie, now clan chief after the passing of his father Yoriyoshi, assigned Morofusa-san to me permanently at Morofusa’s own request, and his training and direction of
bushi
in my allied families is pulling more and more such men into my circle. I never considered or wanted this, but I know the Yamada clan will be, must be, a military family. This is the direction of the country, as Prince Kanemore and I both recognized, and a boat either rides a wave or is overwhelmed by it. For the memory of my father and the sake of my children I will not allow our family to be destroyed again.

As for Kenji, he has played the role of saintly abbot for so long now I think he is starting to believe it himself. We both feel the years passing. We both have many responsibilities and demands on our time. Despite this, every now and again when we can slip away unnoticed, we will take a walk together toward a nearby tangled ruin or shadowed valley to see what we might find. We know it is both foolish and dangerous, that we are mortal, and everything mortal, dies. We also know something else: