The guard recognized him and made a clumsy bow.
“You will find Master Kikuta inside, lord.”
I must order Master Kikuta back to Kitakami, Shika thought. I cannot have him here.
As they walked through the first courtyard Sesshin said, “Aritomo’s men broke my lute. I wonder if there is another one lying around. I miss playing. I discovered music late in life, but it became my greatest pleasure. I used to sit just over there, facing the garden and the lake. I sang to the dragon child. I like to think it pleased him and consoled him.”
“You should have Genzo,” Take said. “That’s the imperial lute that Lady Hina hid for years.”
“Yes, I know all about Genzo, but I think a lute that is not enchanted would suit me better.”
Shika looked over at the lake, now brimming with water, and saw Hina.
Leaving Take to accompany Sesshin to the temple, he walked toward her. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned her head.
Frost lay on the ground and etched the bare branches of the maples and the edge of the lake. It had grown much colder. I should put my arms around her and warm her, he thought. Instead he bowed formally.
“Lady Hina.”
She smiled slightly. “I come to this place frequently. I feel very close to my father and my brother here.”
“Will you stay in the capital?”
She looked at him steadily for a few moments and then said quietly, “I don’t know where else to go. I am not sure what place there is for a woman with my past.”
“You are Lord Kiyoyori’s daughter. Nothing can change that. You are the heir to his estates.”
“I cannot live at Matsutani. It has too many unhappy memories. I will give the estates to the Emperor and he can bestow them where he wishes.”
“He will not wish to bestow them anywhere,” Shika said bitterly, “as he does not wish to be emperor.”
“Unless you are brought up with the knowledge from childhood it must be unbearable,” she replied. “But what else can he do? He cannot run away and live with the monkeys again. And if he did, what would it all have been for?” She gestured at the temple and the lake. “All the sacrifices, all the deaths?”
He could think of nothing to say.
Hina looked at him with concern. “What brings you here? Was it to talk to Master Kikuta? He seems to have settled in here.”
“I did not know that until now.”
“Does it alarm you?” she said astutely.
“A little.”
“You should beware of him,” she said.
“I know he has become very powerful.” Shikanoko sighed. “I must talk to him, but first I have a small ceremony to perform. The guardian spirits from Matsutani are still in my weapons. I would leave them there—at least I could keep an eye on them and control them, and I am grateful for how they saved our lives on the riverbank—but my sword, Jato, is now my son’s, and it is too much for him. I met Master Sesshin on the way here and he agrees they should be placed somewhere safe here. They will have to obey him.”
“Sesshin?” Hina looked past him to the temple. “I have the eyes here with me. I did not know what to do with them.”
“Give them back to him,” Shika said.
“Yes, that seems right.” She called out, “Ibara, would you mind bringing the bamboo box to me?”
Ibara came out of the shadow of the cloister. She bowed her head to Shika as she passed him and murmured, “Lord.”
He hardly recognized her. The woman’s clothes she wore seemed to shrink her physically, softened her features, made her submissive, turned her into a servant.
Have we all imprisoned ourselves, become captives of the roles we have to assume?
“Sesshin is on the veranda with Take,” he said to Hina, following her as she walked swiftly to the others.
She knelt and touched her brow to the ground. “Master, it is I, Hina.”
“Hina? Kiyoyori’s child? The little girl who tried to be a healer? Well, well, what a surprise! Though I shouldn’t say that, because, really, it is no surprise at all. It all turns out the way it is meant to be.”
“I have brought your eyes,” Hina said, taking his hands and placing them around the bamboo box. “And I want to thank you for the Kudzu Vine Treasure Store.”
“You managed to read it? I thought you would. Though why I should have thought that, I don’t know, as no one else has ever managed it, apart from me.” His fingers fumbled with the lid. He opened it and the eyes looked out as bright and lustrous as ever.
None of them said anything for a few moments, silenced by what the eyes showed them, the brief and fragile nature of their lives, the futility of all their striving.
But Shika saw something more. He saw his own heart, his love and need for Hina, and he knew she saw her love for him, too.
“Well,” Sesshin said. “It’s taken you long enough to realize it, my boy, but it’s been your destiny ever since you rode into Matsutani on that bad-tempered brown mare.”
He closed the box. “I don’t need these. As I said, I see more clearly without them. I will put them where they can make sure those rascals behave themselves.” He reached out to Hina and Shikanoko, as though he would join their hands, but he was interrupted by a voice calling down the cloisters.
“Shikanoko! You are here at last!”
Kiku hurried eagerly toward them. “Welcome! Come inside, let me get you something to eat and drink.” His eyes fell on Sesshin. “Who is this old man?”
“This is Master Sesshin,” Shika said. “One of your fathers, as it happens.”
A shadow passed over Kiku’s face. “I remember now. We freed him, and in return he told you to kill us.”
“He didn’t mean it, and he’s sorry now,” Shika said.
“I did mean it and I’m not sorry,” Sesshin said. “But I accept your existence now and I’ll try to work around it.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Kiku said. “All the same, I don’t think I want you here. Get moving, get out.”
When Sesshin did not stand up, Kiku called, “Tsunetomo! Throw him out!”
“He is a great sorcerer,” Shika said. “He goes where he wants to go, and stays where he wants to stay.”
“Does he want to go to Paradise?” Tsunetomo appeared with drawn sword.
“Ha-ha!” Sesshin rocked with laughter. “I’d be very grateful if you could send me there.”
“He cannot be killed,” Shika explained.
“Really?” Kiku put out a hand to restrain Tsunetomo, who seemed eager to test Shika’s claim. “That’s interesting. You may stay then, as long as you don’t get in my way.”
“Kiku,” Shika said, “it is not for you to decide at Ryusonji who stays and who leaves. I want you to go back to Kitakami. You have carved out a place for yourself there; no one is going to challenge you on that or take it from you. You must leave the capital with all your men before the end of the month.”
Kiku stared at him. “I like it here. This is a place of great power. I can use that.”
“I will not allow Ryusonji to become a center of sorcery again. That is over. From now on, it will be a place of worship, nothing more.”
“Any power I gain here, from the dragon child or whatever other source, would be at your service. We would all work for you, as we have done till now. You could achieve anything you wanted with our help.” Kiku’s voice had a faint note of pleading to it now. There was something incongruous to it, as though he were still a child, which of course, in human terms, he was, just an adolescent, not much older than Take. The thought touched Shika deeply. He had brought them up as his sons; he still felt a responsibility for Kiku, and for Mu and Kuro, who had now come silently along the veranda to stand at their brother’s side.
“I am truly grateful to you all,” he said. “Our lives have been entwined for years, ever since you were born, and there are strong bonds between us. But I do not want you in the capital, least of all at Ryusonji, certainly not with
Gessho’s skull. My order stands: leave before the end of the month.”
“We are your sons,” Kiku said stubbornly. “Look, I have brought back the carving. I saw it on the werehawk’s leg and knew it was a message from you. I came at once with all my men. We saved your life, we saved the Emperor.”
“I told you,” Mu interrupted. “He has a human son. He will never need you, or love you, in that way. Let’s go back to Kitakami. The Tribe, your tribe, can flourish and be strong there.”
Kiku’s gaze turned to Take, who was still kneeling beside Sesshin, the sword Jato lying next to him on the boards. He let the carving fall from his fingers, stepped toward him, and dropped to one knee, staring intently into his face.
“Let me see what a human son looks like,” he whispered.
Take tried to cry out, then his eyes began to roll back in his head. Faster than the snake that was forged within it, Jato rose and thrust itself into the space between them, breaking the Kikuta gaze.
Kiku grasped the sword with both hands, trying to push it away, but it resisted him. Blood began to seep from his palms.
Take came half-awake and made a grab for the hilt. “Let go!”
Kiku made no response, concentrating on dominating the sword. Shika could feel the power he possessed, emanating from him, the power that came from the skull, the sorcery and wisdom of the Old People. Shika had not realized Kiku was so strong. His heart quailed momentarily. He was not ready for yet another challenge. “Master,” he whispered, “do something.”
“I gave all my power to you, remember?” Sesshin said cheerfully. “It’s up to you now.”
Almost without thinking, Shika opened the seven-layered bag and took out the mask. He looked across at Kiku. Their eyes met. Jato hovered motionless.
“You don’t want to use it, do you?” Kiku said. “So give it to me.” He twisted the sword and it struggled from Take’s grasp. Kiku took it, the blood seeping from the horizontal cuts across both palms. “Give it to me or your human son dies.”
“Don’t give it to him,” Hina cried.
Shika put the mask to his face and felt it cleave to him. He feared it might be for the last time, that Kiku’s power would be greater than his, and he would never be able to remove the mask again. He saw years of loneliness and grief stretching away before him. But then he realized that it was more powerful than ever, that those years in the Darkwood had refined and honed it, as they had him. Anything is possible to me, he thought with wonder and awe. He said silently, Put the sword down! And then aloud, “Hidarisama! Come here!”
Kiku’s face twisted in pain, as he lost the struggle with the sword and relinquished it with an anguished cry, staring in shock at the bloody lines on his hands.
Jato, which had been about to plunge into Take’s throat, flew from Kiku’s hand to Shika’s.
“You will obey me,” he said, and Kiku bowed his head. His eyes glistened with tears though he did not let them fall.
“What happened?” Hidarisama exclaimed. “That was close!”
“You idiot,” said Migisama. “You nearly made a big mistake. You were obeying the wrong person.”
“Oof! Maybe it’s time to get out of this sword.”
“Before you do any harm.”
“Now I will do what I came to do,” Shika said. “Hidarisama, you are to stay here. Choose where you want to go.”
“What about me?” said Migisama. “Don’t I get to choose?”
“Shikanoko was talking to me!”
“You’re the one who did something stupid, not me.”
“Make up your minds quickly,” Shika said. “How about the pagoda? Or the main gates?”
“The gates, so we can watch everyone go in and out.”
“The pagoda, so we can see the whole city.”
“If it’s the pagoda, I want the top.”
“Why should you have the top? You wanted the gates.”
“You may go to the pagoda,” Shika said. “You can share the top floor. Hidarisama will have the waxing moon, Migisama the waning.”
“Oh, very well.”
“I suppose that’s acceptable.”
The voices of the guardian spirits grew fainter.
“Hey, he didn’t say what happens when there’s no moon.”
“We’ll come down then and have fun!”
There was a slight movement of the ground like a small earthquake as the pagoda quivered. A flock of white doves that had been dozing on the roof flew up with a sudden fluttering of wings. As if they had pierced the clouds, a few large flakes of snow began to fall.
Kiku looked at his palms, now marked forever with bloody wounds that would fade into distinctive scars. “I will do as you command,” he said, “but I will never forgive you. You and I are enemies from now on, as will be our children and our children’s children.”
“Those children will all bear the mark of the sword,” Sesshin remarked. “Long after what caused it has been forgotten.”
Kiku turned abruptly and walked away, disappearing into the main hall. Tsunetomo went after him. Kuro looked at Shika, seemed about to say something, then changed his mind and followed his brother.
Mu said, “We will leave today to get back to Kitakami before winter sets in.”
“You may stay in the city,” Shika said.
“Do you fear me less than you fear him?” Mu looked at him with an amused expression.
“It’s not fear,” Shika replied, but in fact it was a kind of fear, of what Kiku might become, mingled with love and regret, bringing him close to tears. “But there is a difference between you.”
“Maybe because I was lucky enough to cross paths with a tengu,” Mu said.
Shika nodded, remembering Shisoku’s words from long ago and, earlier, the fawn’s form, the tengu overhead, the game of Go.
“I’ll go with him,” Mu said. “I’ll try to explain everything to him. There are many things he doesn’t understand.”
“I’m coming with you,” Ibara said.
“That would be most pleasant.” Mu was smiling. “You can meet my daughter, and my youngest brother, Ku.”
“I’m sick of being a woman, and—forgive me, Lady Hina, I don’t mean to offend you—a servant. I liked it in the forest when I was equal to men.”
“Maybe we will go back to the forest,” Mu said, with a trace of longing. “We should see how things are at the old hut, and how Ima is getting on. But for a little while we must stay with Kiku.”
Hina spoke quietly behind Shika. “Come to me. I will remove the mask.”
He turned and bowed his head, feeling deep relief as it slid easily from his face. He took it from her, feeling the cool touch of her fingers, and slipped it into the seven-layered bag.
“I was afraid he would take it from you,” she whispered, “even kill you for it.”
“He nearly succeeded,” he said in a low voice. He was trembling with exhaustion.
“Can someone tell me what happened?” Take said, looking as if he had just woken up.
“Kiku put you to sleep with his gaze,” Mu said. “I’ve seen him do it before.”
“I felt I knew nothing, had learned nothing, from you or the tengu,” Take said, shamefaced.
“Well, learn from this experience,” Mu said. “Never let anyone from the Kikuta family look you in the eyes.”
“Hidarisama has left the sword,” Shika said, handing Jato back to Take. “You may use it freely.” Now I will speak to Hina, he thought. Now we will walk down to the lake together and discuss our future.
As though she read his mind she looked up at him and smiled. Her hand touched his briefly. He heard his heart pounding, but it was not his heart, it was hoofbeats. A horse neighed and Nyorin answered, from where he was waiting outside the gate.
“Nagatomo is here!” Take cried.
The Burnt Twins came through the main gate on horseback, allowing no one to stop them. The horses were breathing hard, eyes wild, flanks heaving. Nagatomo dismounted, approach
ed Shika, and said quietly, “The Emperor has disappeared.”
Eisei slid from his horse’s back. “Saru has vanished, too.”
“How could that happen?” Shika said with quiet anger. “Must I look after everything myself?”
“No one expected them to be so agile, so acrobatic,” Nagatomo replied. “They scaled the wall, leaped into a tree, and were away over the river before anyone could follow. Apparently a young woman was waiting on the far bank with a change of clothes. We found the Emperor’s robes abandoned there.”
“We must go after him,” Shika said.
“I’ve told people he is unwell,” Nagatomo said. “We should not let the news spread, and we cannot pursue him as if he were a criminal.”
“I’ll go and find him,” Take said. “I can persuade him to return.”
Shikanoko looked at his son for a moment without speaking. “Very well,” he said finally. “There’s no point in me going, as he hates me above all. But you knew him in his other life. If he listens to anyone, it will be you. But who will go with you?”
“Lend me Nyorin. I will go alone. Don’t worry, Father. I know both the riverbank and the forest. I know where they will go.”
20
TAKEYOSHI
As Takeyoshi followed the river north the snow continued to fall, but it was not settling enough to reveal tracks. He had Jato at his hip and Ameyumi on his back. He rode at a canter, trusting the old horse not to stumble, and, if anyone greeted him, he replied it was a good day for hunting. He wore the bearskin chaps that the tengu had given him and a green robe that had belonged to Hina’s father, Lord Kiyoyori. After a while the snow stopped, the clouds cleared a little, and a pale wintry sun appeared. There was no wind.
The Sagigawa flowed from Lake Kasumi to the capital. Between the river and the mountains of the Darkwood lay a pattern of rice fields and vegetable gardens, crisscrossed by dikes and footpaths. Take wondered if Yoshi and Saru had run through them to reach the forest, but he then thought they were more likely to be trying to get to the lake, perhaps heading for the Rainbow Bridge or Aomizu, places they knew well and where they would be hidden. As he rode he reflected on the grief they must both be feeling. No one had considered the deaths of Asagao and several of the other acrobats and musicians as very important, but to the two young men they were friends, family, colleagues. He and Hina had rescued the survivors, tended their broken bodies, and arranged for the dead to be buried. They had attended their funerals and said prayers for them, but they had followed the usual temple ceremony. Take, alone, was familiar with the prayers of the Secret One, but he repeated them only in his heart.