“I am an acrobat. I work with monkeys. That’s the only life I’ve ever known.”
Hina wondered if she should tell him: Would he be safer if he knew or would ignorance protect him?
Yoshi said, in a low, rapid voice, “I do remember one thing. A woman telling me I must never reveal my true identity. Kai knows, for she came with me from the same world, but she has never said a word to anyone else. That’s why I love her and why she’s the only person I could love. I know why Kon follows me day and night. I saw how Take’s attitude changed toward me—you told him, didn’t you? You have known since the day we met, for the lute betrayed me. I’m grateful to you for keeping my secret all these years. But I will never admit it to anyone. You can’t make me. I will deny it to the end of my days. I am not interested in power or position. I will live and die an acrobat and nothing you can say will make me change my mind.”
Even as he denied it he spoke with all the true authority of the Emperor. She found she could not argue with him.
The young monkeys were released, and were greeted by their families with cries of relief and excitement.
“You’ll come with us, Lady Yayoi?” Kinmaru said, when they were ready to leave.
“I will wait for Take,” she replied. “He will be back soon.”
Monmaru said nervously, “We were told to bring you back with us. We will certainly be questioned about you.”
“You must say nothing!” Yoshi declared and then, taking Yayoi aside, said quietly, “I promise I will not give you away, and you must make the same promise to me.”
“I will,” she whispered.
They did not try to persuade her further, fully aware she faced arrest if she was found. Better to starve to death in the Darkwood or be killed by wild animals than fall into the hands of Aritomo’s torturers.
* * *
The monkeys disappeared. After the two young ones were released and the excitement had died down, they all began to hurry away to the northeast, deep into the forest, as if each member of the group had received a hidden signal.
Hina missed their chatter and their activity. The trees seemed to press around her more densely and she heard strange noises that alarmed her. Kon had flown after Yoshi, adding to her fears—surely Masachika or one of his men would have the skill to shoot the bird down? Yet there was no way she could prevent him from following Yoshi, just as she could not stop Yoshi from going to Matsutani. He was the Emperor, he would go where he willed and Kon’s destiny was to follow him.
Kon’s presence must have intimidated the other birds and animals, for after he had departed they began to come more boldly into the clearing. Crows alighted on the ground beside her, cawing loudly and pecking at scraps of food left behind, peering at her with their fearless eyes, as if they hoped the flesh that covered her bones would soon become carrion.
Some animal, either a small wolf or a very large fox, lurked every evening on the edge of the clearing. She heard it hunting in the night, heard the sudden short scream of its prey. She was wary of it, knowing that, when winter came, wolves would move southward through the Darkwood. She remembered hearing them howling on snowy nights when she was a child at Matsutani. Sometimes, made desperate by hunger, they would attack the horses. Being awakened by the screaming horses, the snarling wolves, and the shouts of men running to drive them away was one of her enduring memories. In the morning there would be dead wolves to skin—their furs made warm winter coverings or chaps for riding—and wounded horses to put down, with the promise of fresh meat for days to come.
But she was most cautious of the wild boar, which, as autumn drew into winter, she often heard crashing through the undergrowth. She had seen dogs and men ripped open by their tusks. They were aggressive, seemed half-mad, even when they were not being hunted. She did not dare venture far from the clearing in case she was attacked by one. Yet staying where she was made her anxious, too. Yoshi had ordered the acrobats to say nothing about her, but they could so easily let slip a casual word and betray her.
The acrobats had left her food, and wood for the fire, which she kept going diligently. There was a grove of chestnut trees near the spring and the nuts were ripening. She collected them, storing them like a squirrel. But every night was a little colder than the last. Soon it would begin to freeze and then it would snow. I will have to spend the winter in the hot spring if Take does not return, she thought, but the reality, she knew, was she could not survive there.
Sometimes her passive waiting infuriated her. She longed to act. For so many years she had been told what to do by Fuji, had submitted to everything asked of her and suppressed all her own hopes and desires. Now she was free of all constraints, except those imposed by the weather and the changing seasons, and the frailty of her own body. Yet she did not know what action she could take.
In the short hours of daylight she took out the medicine stone and the Kudzu Vine Treasure Store. The Abbess had been right. In some way that Hina did not fully understand, the stone made the text readable. If she kept her left hand on the stone, she found she could not only read but understand what she read. As a child she had longed to make people and animals well, riven by pity for their suffering. Now that childish pity had turned into a mature, all-encompassing compassion.
So she made a virtue out of her solitude, overcoming her fears and her hunger, until she had completely absorbed the teachings of the text. She had grown so used to being alone that when a man and a tall brown horse appeared in the clearing one morning, for a moment she could not recognize what they were. They seemed one strange being, threatening and unpredictable. So they had come for her. She wanted to hide, but there was no time.
The man dismounted, calling her name. It was Chika, whom she had last seen when he came to Fuji’s boat—or had she seen his shape underwater, the night Fuji died? He had come then to ask her to help Shikanoko. Her heart began to beat faster with excitement. Was it, at last, the time for Chika to take her to him?
He slid down from the horse’s back and came to her, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head. The horse pulled on the reins, trying to reach the grass.
“Hina! I was told I would find you here.”
Excitement and hope made her greet him warmly, despite his familiar tone. “I am so glad to see you, Chika,” she said eagerly. “What news do you bring?”
He stood again, not speaking for a moment, studying her face with an intense expression that made her uncomfortable. She took a step back as she said, “I have no food to offer you, but let me take your horse to the spring to drink and I will bring back fresh water.”
“I don’t need anything,” he said, dropping the reins. “The horse can find water if it’s thirsty. Let’s sit down and talk.”
The sun was just beginning to clear the trees. Hina led him to a patch of sunlight on the western side of the spring. The horse went to drink deeply, snorting through its nose. The ground was still cold. Hina sat on a small outcrop of rock. Chika pulled his sword from his sash and laid it down, then squatted on his haunches next to her.
“I’ve come from Kitakami,” he said. “The brothers I told you about, Master Kikuta and Mu, have been reconciled, making the Tribe, as they call themselves, stronger than ever.”
“And Shikanoko?” Hina said, his name filling her with joy and nervousness.
“Mu has gone to find him,” Chika said.
“Will he bring him here?”
He frowned as though her eagerness distressed him and did not answer her question. “I’ve been thinking while I’ve been riding. I’ve had a lot of time lately to reflect on my life. I am not proud of what I have become.”
“None of us can avoid our fate,” Hina said.
“Maybe that is true, or maybe what proves a man is striving against fate and having the will to mold it to his own design. I am a warrior’s son, Hina. It’s a long time since I’ve lived as a warrior.”
He put out a hand impulsively and gripped her thigh, his touch sending shock waves thro
ugh her. “Aritomo is planning an attack on the Kakizuki in Rakuhara, to be led by your old patron, Arinori. That’s why Arinori gave up his pursuit of you. Masachika knows you came into the Darkwood with the acrobats, he will find out where you are and will certainly come after you sooner or later. But Kiku, who has informants everywhere now, even in the capital, has already sent messengers to Lord Keita. The Kakizuki will be prepared and the Miboshi will be defeated. It’s a chance for us to flee together. We can ride south and find the Kakizuki. We are of the same class, our families have been linked for generations. Ever since we were children I dreamed we would marry one day—I told you this before.”
“But what about Shikanoko?” Hina said.
“You asked if Mu would bring him here. He will but he will be leading him to his death. Kiku says he wants to be of service to Shika, to restore the Emperor, but what he really wants is the mask Shika wears. I told you my sister’s dream. I believe it means that you could remove the mask. But if Kiku takes possession of it, you will have condemned Shikanoko to death. He has said as much to me. In fact, he ordered me to kill him. Come with me and you will save not only your life but his, too.”
His touch was embarrassing her with its intimacy and she tried to move from under it.
He looked at his own hand as if in surprise and lifted it away. “I’m sorry. I should not touch you. But you have had so many men and I have wanted you for so long. Won’t you look with favor on me? I will take you away to safety. You can’t stay here on your own. Masachika’s men will find you eventually, if you aren’t killed by wild animals first.”
When she did not reply he went on. “We killed Unagi, you know, his sons and his father. I did it partly for you, so you would never be insulted by him again. And Kiku wanted to get rid of him. But once it was done I felt that part of my life was over. Or maybe Mu coming changed everything. I thought I was as close to Kiku as anyone, but Mu has become closer. I realized I was weary to death of that world of sorcerers and imps. I will never belong in it. Can you understand my loneliness? Kiku has offered me women, but I will never be able to meet and marry anyone of my own rank and I will not accept anyone else. But if we go to the Kakizuki, you, Kiyoyori’s daughter, shall be the wife of Kongyo’s son.”
“That is impossible,” she said, staring at him, shocked by his words. “I pity you deeply, but I was very fond of Unagi and, as I said to you before, he was a good man. I can’t marry the man who killed him.”
“I could show you I am a better man and a better lover. What’s more, I am offering you a chance to escape, to save your life. You have no choice, Hina.” He grasped both her arms as if he would lift her up. “You must come with me. I’ll carry you if I have to!”
There was a crashing and rustling in the undergrowth and the horse squealed in fear. It threw up its head and barged past Chika, unbalancing him and knocking him to the ground. Suddenly released, Hina fell on her hands and knees.
She looked at the undergrowth, the sun dazzling her. The crashing noise came again and a huge boar, the largest she had ever seen, came bursting out, head down, charging toward them.
Its long tusks gleamed, its little eyes were red with rage, streams of saliva dripped from its glistening mottled snout. Each bristle stood out as sharp as a needle.
Chika lunged at her, not looking back at the boar.
“Chika!” She tried to shout out a warning.
He saw her gaze and turned, struggling to his feet, stumbling, reaching vainly for his sword.
The boar hit him like a galloping horse, thrust its tusks into him, and ripped him open with a sideways flick of its head.
It tossed him aside. There was a moment of silence and then he began to sob in pain.
“Hina!” he cried. “Help me!”
But she did not need the medicine stone to see he was dying.
The boar pawed the ground, peered at her with its vicious eyes. She walked slowly backward, staring fixedly at it through her tears, not daring to lift a hand to wipe them from her eyes, trying to calm her breath.
She saw its muscles tense as it prepared to charge. It seemed to gather itself up in a solid ball of aggression and rage. There was a humming sound through the air, like a giant insect, the thud of an impact, arrow into flesh. The boar squealed and hesitated for a moment, then launched itself at her, further enraged by pain. Another thrumming, a second arrow. The animal squealed again, a piercing, almost human sound, faltered, and dropped at her feet. Within seconds the light had gone from its eyes.
One shaft had hit it in the throat, the other protruded from its back, its white feathers now flecked red with blood. The arrowhead had penetrated straight to the heart.
12
MASACHIKA
Lord Aritomo traveled to Matsutani by palanquin, his favorite horse led behind by grooms, his bow and his sword carried by high-ranking warriors. Two falconers followed with his hawks on wooden perches. A monk from Ryusonji carried a bamboo cage containing the two young werehawks, which squawked and flapped their wings incessantly. The priests had managed to capture them and had presented them to Aritomo. The lord spoke to them every day and tended them with his own hands. The hawks disliked them intensely.
Aritomo’s companions were all heavily armed and more than usually vigilant. Casting his eye over the procession as they rode out, Masachika, who had gone back to Miyako to escort his lord to his home, noticed that many warriors were absent, not from the highest caste, but from the ambitious middle ranks, and particularly those from the coastal estates who had some knowledge of boats and the sea. So the planned attack on the Kakizuki was going ahead, and, while Aritomo was entertained by the hunt, his old enemies would be taken by surprise and wiped out.
Yet there was little sense of celebration. Drought and famine had ravaged the land. The dead lay unburied along the roadsides and on the banks of the shrunken rivers. Crows stalked among them, the only creatures to look plump and sleek. Survivors threw stones at the birds; Masachika knew only too well how easily their aim could be turned on him and Aritomo’s retinue.
Sometimes women knelt in the road, holding out starving children, begging the men for food, or, if they would give them nothing, pleading with them to put an end to their wretched lives and their children’s suffering. The grooms chased them away with whips.
The mood among the warriors was somber. Death was everywhere, ignoble, insignificant, and inevitable. The wasted corpses, carrion for birds, mocked their own strength and vitality.
Look at us. You, too, will be reduced to bones like us. You, too, are no more than meat that will rot and putrefy.
At night, in the private homes or temples used as lodging places, Aritomo could not sleep, and those closest to him were summoned to sit up with him and listen to his thoughts on the way to live and the way to die.
“A warrior must choose his own death. Even on the battlefield, if he is defeated, it is better to die by his own hand than surrender to an opponent.”
Death for him was another enemy, like drought and famine. He would defeat all three of them. A smile played on his lips as he regarded his men, as though he knew a secret they did not. He brewed and drank the strange-smelling tea all night, but never offered it to anyone else. Watching him closely, as he did all the time, Masachika could not help thinking how easy it would be to poison him. The more he tried to put the thought from him, the more he found himself dwelling on it.
Sometimes Aritomo spoke of Takaakira, with grudging respect. “As I grow older I admire courage above all virtues. In the end it is the only one that matters. To live without fear of death is to be a true warrior.”
Masachika knew the hunt in the Darkwood would offer many opportunities to display fighting skills. The men would compete with one another to bring down the fiercest boar, the proudest stag. They might even be lucky enough to encounter bears. There were still vast tracts of land in the west and northeast that needed to be occupied and subdued. Warriors who acquitted themselves well in the hunt wo
uld be rewarded by Lord Aritomo with gifts of these lands. It was the next best thing to distinguishing oneself in battle, and for men eager to establish themselves and their families on estates granted to them forever, it offered a better chance of survival. Yet even hunting could be dangerous.
Shortly after they headed north from the barrier on the Shimaura road, at the turn to Matsutani, Masachika, riding ahead, heard singing, the sounds of a flute, and the chattering of monkeys. He saw the red of the acrobats’ clothes. He urged his horse forward and ordered the entertainers to conceal themselves, for he wanted their appearance to be a complete surprise.
Obediently they pulled the pack horses over the dike, down into the dry rice fields. There were several men and, as far as he could see, eight monkeys. There was also a group of six musicians, carrying their instruments. The flute player had been playing, as they walked, and two of the women had been singing. The way the women moved and sang, freely, easily, reminded him of Asagao, with the now familiar but still astonishing surge of desire.
“Get down!” he told them, and they all prostrated themselves. Masachika watched from the top of the dike as Aritomo’s retinue rode past. He did not want any of his entertainers shot by overzealous warriors. He could hear the werehawks shrieking even more loudly than usual and wondered what had alarmed them. When they had all passed by, he called to one of the older men to approach him.
“Come to Matsutani tomorrow, in the afternoon. We will be out at the hunt. We will expect your entertainment when we return. A little music first, I think, then acrobats with monkeys, and music for the rest of the evening. It must be a surprise, so do not show yourselves before then.”
“I understand, lord,” the man replied. “We will find a quiet spot to prepare ourselves and do our final rehearsals. We are all here now. Thank you for your confidence in us. We won’t let you down.”
“You had better not,” Masachika replied.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a huge black bird fluttering down to the dike. He had come to hate with all his heart the crows that fed on carrion along the road, and was inclined to string his bow and shoot it. But it was not a crow. One of the werehawks has escaped, he thought, and was on the point of calling to the monk, but then he saw this bird was larger and not all black but flecked with gold patches that flashed blindingly in the sun. It unsettled him. He felt it must have some significance, but he could not unravel it, and he must not let Lord Aritomo travel on without him.