Sada gripped her arm. “You heard him say that? What else did you hear?”
Maya stared back at her. For a moment she did not speak. Then she said, “I heard everything.”
Sada could not prevent the smile curving her lips. “Never speak of it to anyone,” she murmured, with complicity. She drew Maya close and embraced her. Maya hugged her back, felt the heat of her body, and wished she was Taku.
24
Some men love love, but Muto Taku was not one of them, nor had he ever been smitten by the passion that wants to devote itself only to the beloved. He found such extreme emotions curious, even distasteful, and had always laughed at the infatuated, openly despising their weakness. When women professed to love him, as they often did, he detached himself from them. He liked women, and all the pleasures of the body one enjoyed with them, was fond of his wife and trusted her to run his household, bring up his children properly, and be loyal to him, but the idea of being faithful to her had never occurred to him. So the persistence of the memory of the sudden, unexpected intimacy with Sada disturbed him. It had been unlike anything in his experience, desire of such intensity, fulfillment so piercing and complete; her body, as tall and as strong as his, almost like a man’s, yet a woman’s; her responding desire for him, which yielded to him and at the same time seized him. He had hardly been able to sleep, longing only to feel her next to him, and now, talking to Sugita Hiroshi in the garden of the castle at Maruyama, he was finding it hard to concentrate on what his old friend was saying. We grew up together. It need not mean anything, she had said, and that had been part of the thrill, she moving from companion, almost sister, to lover. And he had said, with unknowing insight, Nothing between us can be meaningless.
He drew his attention back to his companion. They were the same age, turning twenty-seven in the new year, but whereas Taku had the wiry build and nondescript, mobile face of the Muto, Sugita Hiroshi was considered a handsome man, half a head taller than Taku and broader in the shoulder, with the pale skin and fine features of the warrior class. As boys they had squabbled and competed with each other for Lord Takeo’s attention, had been lovers for one ecstatic summer, the year they had broken in the colts together, and since then had been tied by the bonds of deepest friendship.
It was early morning on what promised to be a brilliant autumn day. The sky was the clear pale blue of a bird’s egg, the sun just beginning to lift the haze from the golden stubble of the rice fields. It was the first chance the two men had had to talk in private since Taku had arrived in the company of Lord Kono. They had been discussing the coming meeting between Lord Otori and Arai Zenko, which was to take place within the next few weeks in Maruyama.
“Takeo and Lady Shigeko must be here by next month’s full moon,” Hiroshi said, “but their arrival has been delayed somewhat, for they were to go to Terayama to visit Matsuda Shingen’s grave.”
“It is sad for Takeo to lose his two great teachers in the same year. He had barely gotten over Kenji’s death,” Taku remarked.
“Matsuda’s passing was neither as sudden nor as shocking as Kenji’s. Our Abbot was over eighty years, an extraordinary life span. And he has worthy successors. As your uncle has in you. You will become to Lord Takeo what Kenji always was.”
“I already miss my uncle’s skill and perception,” Taku confessed. “The situation seems to become more complex every week. My brother’s intrigues, which even I cannot completely fathom; Lord Kono and the demands from the Emperor; the refusal of the Kikuta to negotiate…”
“During my time in Hagi, Takeo seemed unusually preoccupied,” Hiroshi said tentatively.
“Well, apart from his grief and these affairs of state, he has other concerns, I suppose,” Taku replied. “Lady Otori’s pregnancy, problems with his daughters.”
“Is something wrong with Lady Shigeko?” Hiroshi interrupted. “She was in good health when I saw her recently…”
“Not as far as I know. It’s the twin girls,” Taku said. “Maya is here with me; I must warn you in case you recognize her.”
“Here with you?” Hiroshi repeated in surprise.
“She’s dressed as a boy. You probably won’t even notice her. She’s being looked after by a young woman, also in men’s guise, a distant relative of mine. Sada is her name.”
There was no need to speak her name, yet he could not help himself. I am obsessed, he thought.
“Zenko and Hana are coming,” Hiroshi exclaimed. “Surely they will recognize her!”
“I suppose Hana might. Not much escapes her.”
“No,” Hiroshi agreed. They were silent for a moment, then both laughed at the same time.
“You know,” Taku said, “people say you never got over her, and that is why you never married!” They had never spoken of it before, but his curiosity had been kindled by his own new obsession.
“It’s true at one time I fervently wanted to marry her. I thought I adored her, and I wanted so much to be part of that family—my own father, as you know, was killed in the war, and my uncle and his sons took their own lives rather than surrender to Arai Daiichi. I had no family of my own; when Maruyama settled down after the earthquake, I was living in Lord Takeo’s household. My family’s lands reverted to the domain. I was sent to Terayama to study the Way of the Houou. I was as foolish and conceited as any young man. I thought that Takeo would adopt me eventually, especially when no sons were born.” He smiled in self-mockery but without bitterness. “Don’t misunderstand me. I am not disappointed or distressed. I see my life’s calling is to be of service; I am happy to be the steward of Maruyama and to hold it for Lady Shigeko. Next month she will receive her domain; I will soon return to Terayama, unless she needs me here.”
“I am sure she will need you—at least for a year or two. No need to bury yourself at Terayama like a hermit. You should marry and have children of your own. As for land, Takeo—or Shigeko—would give you anything you asked for.”
“Not quite anything,” Hiroshi said quietly, almost to himself.
“So you are still pining after Hana.”
“No, I rapidly recovered from that infatuation. Hana is a very beautiful woman, but I am glad it is your brother who is her husband, not myself.”
“It would be better for Takeo if it were you,” Taku said, wondering what else might keep Hiroshi from remarrying.
“They feed each other’s ambitions,” Hiroshi agreed, and deftly changed the subject. “But you still have not told me for what reason Maya is here.”
“She needs to be kept apart—from her cousins, who are now in Hagi, and from her twin. And someone needs to be watching her constantly, which is why Sada came with her. I’ll have to spend some time with her too. I can’t explain all the reasons to you. I’m relying on you to cover my absence and entertain Lord Kono—and, incidentally, convince him of the Seishuu clans’ complete loyalty to the Otori.”
“Is the child in some danger?”
“She is the danger,” Taku replied.
“But why does she not come openly, as Lord Otori’s daughter, and stay here as she often has before?”
When Taku did not answer immediately, Hiroshi said, “You love intrigue for its own sake, admit it!”
“She is more useful if she is not recognized,” Taku said finally. “Anyway, she’s a child of the Tribe. If she is Lady Otori Maya, that is all she can be; in the Tribe she can take on many different roles.”
“I suppose she can do all those tricks you used to tease me with,” Hiroshi said, smiling.
“Those tricks, as you call them, have saved my life more than once!” Taku retorted. “Besides, I believe the Way of the Houou has a few tricks of its own!”
“The Masters, like Miyoshi Gemba, and Makoto himself, have many skills that seem supernatural, but are the result of years of training and self-mastery.”
“Well, it’s more or less the same with the Tribe. Our skills may be inherited, but they’re nothing without training. But your Masters have prevailed on
Takeo not to go to war, either in the East or the West?”
“Yes, when he comes, he will inform Lord Kono that our emissaries are on their way to Miyako to prepare for next year’s visit.”
“Do you think this visit is wise? Isn’t Takeo simply placing himself in the power of this new general, the Dog Catcher?”
“Anything that avoids war is wise,” Hiroshi replied.
“Forgive me, but these are strange words from the mouth of a warrior!”
“Taku, we both saw our fathers die in front of our eyes…”
“My father, at least, deserved to die! I will never forget that moment when I thought Takeo must kill Zenko…”
“Your father acted correctly, according to his beliefs and his code,” Hiroshi said calmly.
“He betrayed Takeo after swearing alliance with him!” Taku exclaimed.
“But if he had not, sooner or later Takeo would have turned on him. It is the very nature of our society. We fight until we tire of war, and after a few years we tire of peace and so we fight again. We mask our bloodlust and our desire for revenge with a code of honor, which we break when it seems expedient.”
“Have you truly never killed a man?” Taku said abruptly.
“I was taught many ways to kill, and learned battle tactics and war strategy before I was ten years old, but I have never fought in a real battle, and I have never killed anyone. I hope I never will.”
“Find yourself in the midst of a fight and you’ll change your mind,” Taku said. “You’ll defend yourself like all men do.”
“Maybe. In the meantime I’ll do everything in my power to avoid war.”
“I’m afraid that between them my brother and the Emperor will bring you to it. Especially if they now have firearms. You can be sure they will not rest until they have tried out their new weapons for themselves.”
There were signs of movement at the far end of the garden, and a guard ran forward and knelt before Hiroshi.
“Lord Kono is coming, Lord Sugita!”
In the nobleman’s presence they both changed a little—Taku became more guarded, Hiroshi apparently more open and genial. Kono wanted to see as much of the town and the surrounding countryside as possible, and they made many excursions, the nobleman carried in his elaborate gilded lacquer palanquin, the two young men riding the horses, Raku’s sons, who were as much old friends as they were. The autumn weather continued clear and brilliant, the leaves more deeply colored every day. Hiroshi and Taku took every opportunity to apprise Kono of the wealth of the domain, its secure defenses and number of soldiers, the contentment of its people, and its absolute loyalty to Lord Otori. The nobleman received all this information with his usual unperturbed courtesy, giving no indication of his real feelings.
SOMETIMES MAYA WENT on these trips, riding on the back of Sada’s horse, occasionally finding herself close enough to Kono and his advisers to catch what they murmured to each other. The conversations seemed uninteresting and trivial, but she memorized them and repeated them word for word to Taku when he came to the house where she and Sada stayed, as he did every two or three days. They took to sleeping in a small room at the end of the house, for sometimes he came late at night, and no matter how late the hour he always wanted to see Maya, even if she was already asleep. She was expected to wake immediately, in the way of the Tribe, who control their need for sleep in the same way they control all their needs and desires, and she had to summon up all her energy and concentration for these nighttime sessions with her teacher.
Taku was often tired and tense, his patience short; the work was slow and demanding. Maya wanted to cooperate, but she was afraid of what might happen to her. Often she longed to be home in Hagi with her mother and sisters. She wanted to be a child; she wanted to be like Shigeko, with no Tribe skills and no twin. Being a boy all day exhausted her, but that was nothing compared to the new demands. She had found her earlier Tribe training easy—invisibility, the use of the second self came naturally to her, but this new path seemed far more difficult and more dangerous. She refused to let Taku lead her down it, sometimes with a cold sullenness, sometimes with fury. She came to regret bitterly the cat’s death and its possession of her spirit; she begged Taku to remove it.
“I cannot,” he replied. “All I can do is help you learn to control it, and master it.”
“You did what you did,” Sada said. “You have to live with it.”
Then Maya was ashamed of her weakness. She had thought she would like being the cat, but it was darker and more frightening than she had expected. It wanted to take her into another world, where ghosts and spirits lived.
“It will give you power,” Taku said. “The power is there—you must grasp it and exploit it!”
But though under his gaze and with his guidance she became familiar with the spirit that lived within her, she could not do what she knew he expected: take on its form and use it.
25
The full moon of the tenth month approached, and everywhere preparations began for the Autumn Festival. The excitement was heightened this year by the fact that Lord Otori himself and his oldest daughter, heir to Maruyama, Lady Shigeko, would be present for the Festival. Dancing began, the townspeople taking to the streets in throngs every evening in bright clothes and new sandals, singing, waving their hands above their heads. Maya had known that her father was popular, beloved even, but she had not fully realized to what extent until she heard it from the mouths of the people she now mingled with. The news also spread that the domain of Maruyama was to be formally presented to Shigeko now that she was of age. She would become Lady Maruyama.
It was like something from a legend, a name Maya had heard all her life, from Chiyo, from Shizuka, from the balladeers who sang and recited the tales of the Otori on street corners and riverbanks.
“It seems my mother is to lead the Tribe, Lady Shigeko will one day rule the Three Countries; you had better become a girl again before you are much older!” Taku teased her.
“I’m not interested in the Three Countries, but I would like to lead the Tribe!” Maya replied.
“You will have to wait until I am dead!” Taku laughed.
“Don’t say such things!” Sada warned him, touching him on the arm. He turned his head at once and looked at her in the way that both thrilled Maya and filled her with jealousy. The three of them were alone in the small room at the end of the Tribe house. Maya had not expected Taku so soon—he had been there the previous night.
“You see, I cannot stay away from you,” he had said to Sada when she expressed her surprise, and then it was she who could not hide her pleasure, who could not keep herself from touching him.
The night was cold and clear, the moon, four days from full, already swollen and yellow. Despite the frosty air the shutters were still open; they sat close together near the small charcoal brazier, the bed quilts wrapped around them. Taku was drinking rice wine, but neither Sada nor Maya liked its taste. One small lamp barely dinted the room’s darkness, but the garden was filled with moonlight and dense shadows.
“And then there is my brother,” Taku whispered to Sada, no longer joking, “who believes it is his right to lead the Tribe, as Kenji’s oldest male relative.”
“I am afraid there are others, too, who feel it is wrong for Shizuka to be the Muto Master. A woman has never acted in this way before; people do not like to break with tradition. They mutter that it offends the gods. It is not that they want Zenko—they would prefer you, certainly, but your mother’s appointment has caused divisions.”
Maya listened carefully, saying nothing, aware of the heat of the fire on one side of her face, the chill air on the other. From the town came sounds of music and singing, drums beating with an insistent rhythm, sudden guttural shouts.
“I heard a rumor today,” Sada went on. “Kikuta Akio has been seen in Akashi. He left for Hofu two weeks ago.”
“We’d better send someone to Hofu at once,” Taku said. “And find out where he is going and what
his intentions are. Is he traveling alone?”
“Imai Kazuo is with him, and his son.”
“Whose son?” Taku sat upright. “Not Akio’s?”
“Apparently, a boy of about sixteen years. Why are you so shocked?”
“You don’t know who this boy is?”
“He is Muto Kenji’s grandson, everyone knows that,” Sada replied.
“Nothing else?”
Sada shook her head.
“I suppose it is a Kikuta secret,” Taku muttered. Then he seemed to recall Maya’s presence.
“Send the girl to bed,” he said to Sada.
“Maya, go and sleep in the maids’ room,” Sada ordered. A month ago she would have protested, but she had learned to obey Sada and Taku in everything.
“Good night,” she murmured, and rose to her feet.
“Close the shutters before you go,” Taku said. “It’s getting chilly.”
Sada stood to help her. Away from the fire Maya was cold, and once in the maids’ room even colder. Everyone seemed to be asleep already; she found a space between two girls and crawled between them. Here in the Tribe house everyone knew she was female—it was only in the outside world that she had to keep up her disguise as a boy. She was shivering. She wanted to hear what Taku said; she wanted to be with him and Sada. She thought of fur, of the cat’s thick, soft coat covering her, warming her through and through, and the shivering turned into something else, a ripple of power that ran over her, as the cat flexed its muscles and came to life.
She slipped from the covers and padded silently from the room, aware of her huge pupils and acute vision, remembering how the world looked, full of little movements that she never noticed before, listening all the time in part-dread for the empty voices of the dead. She was halfway down the passageway when she realized she was moving above the ground, and cried out a little in fear.
Men and women turned in their sleep, shuddering as they saw unbearable dreams.