Heaven's Net Is Wide

23

The journey was leisurely, for they had several weeks of fine weather ahead of them, and since its purpose was ostensibly of a domestic and peaceful nature, they took every opportunity to stop at famous places and sites of beauty along the way, as well as making formal visits to various Otori vassals and retainers. Shigeru’s true purpose in traveling so slowly was to allow the messengers he had sent to reach Otori Eijiro and bring back his reply. He also had to allow time for Eijiro’s two oldest sons to ride to Kumamoto and Maruyama to arrange a meeting with representatives from the Arai family and the Maruyama.

Kumamoto lay in the far southwest of the Three Countries, seven to ten days’ hard ride away. Maruyama was about seven days’ journey due west from Yamagata. As Shigeru and his retinue of mounted warriors, servants, foot soldiers, and packhorses, palanquins for his wife and her women, banners and sunshades, wound its way through the autumn landscape, the rice fields golden, the autumn lilies brilliant red, his thoughts were miles away with those distant messengers, urging them on their way, praying for a fruitful outcome to his swift planning. The messengers were from his own men, one of them Harada, who had ridden on a similar mission the year before to bring reinforcements to the border from Yamagata and Kushimoto. Harada had been deeply affected by the death of Tomasu, the man he had carried on his back across the Yaegahara plain. He was implacably opposed to the Tohan and alert to any kind of weakness among the Otori that might lead to appeasement. Shigeru had entrusted Harada with the letter to Eijiro, instructing him to travel on himself with the two sons. He recalled riding on the same road over two years before, when he had gone to Terayama to be taught by Matsuda. He looked back on his fifteen-year-old self with amazement. What a child he had been! He could see clearly how much he had grown up since then, and the changes that Matsuda’s teaching, Irie’s constant support, and the circumstances of his life had wrought in him.

Once back in Hagi, he had moved rapidly to bring about the desired meeting with the clans of the West. But he had kept this true motive secret, sharing it only with Irie and Kiyoshige. He had sought his father’s permission to take his wife to Kushimoto and Takeshi to Terayama, but it had been merely a formality. He had been making his own decisions for more than a year now, and the strength of his personality and character had increased to such an extent that his father now conceded to him on almost every issue. Shigeru no longer even kept up the pretence of consulting his uncles. Occasionally, when their protests and complaints annoyed him, he considered advising them to leave the castle, exiling them to distant country estates, but on the whole he preferred to keep them within Hagi, where he could keep an eye on their activities.

He discovered within himself an ability to dissemble. He took on an exterior that seemed affable, bland, and relaxed. But beneath the mask lay a different personality, watchful and tireless. Now the austere training from Terayama began to show its results. He needed very little sleep, could endure endless meetings as well as the campaigns on the border. He became accustomed to making quick decisions and never regretting them, acting immediately to put them into practice. His decisions were invariably proved right, which won him the trust of warriors, merchants, and farmers alike. Now he had a new idea that he would bring into being: an alliance that would bring peace to the Three Countries and protect the Otori against the Tohan. He was so sure of the justice and sense of this endeavor he felt he could create it purely through the strength of his will.

This new ability to hide his true feelings helped him maintain a semblance of harmony with his wife during the journey. Moe was relieved to escape from the oppressions of life in the deep interior of the castle, but she was not a good traveler, did not care for horses, and found the movement of the palanquin disagreeable. She was anxious about the dangers of the road-sickness, bandits, bad weather-and the minor discomforts of fleas, stuffy rooms, and cold water irritated her. Shigeru spent as little time in her company as he could, though he treated her with unrelenting politeness. The rooms of lodging places with their flimsy screens did not encourage intimacy, and though he knew he should follow Irie’s advice and keep trying to approach her, despite his own words to Akane and his best intentions, he made no move toward her. He intended that she should spend the winter with her parents; when she returned to Hagi in the spring, they might be able to make a fresh start. He would be freed from anxiety about her and would be able to concentrate on the preparations for the war that he was increasingly convinced would break out within the next year.

It was with relief that he left Lord Yanagi’s house at Kushimoto and set out for Terayama on the journey home. He would leave his brother at the temple. He had taken Takeshi everywhere with him, wanting the boy to see the country and meet the retainers and the vassal families for himself, hoping to share with him his ideas of the fief as a farm, the need to support warriors to defend it. Takeshi was astute when it came to assessing the reactions of the Kitano, for example, and he got on well with the Yanagi boys, but it was obvious that he was more interested in swords and horses; he himself said so. Shigeru responded that without rice they would have neither: the warrior’s heroism was no use among the starving, and preparations for war included tilling the land as much as training men and arming them. However, he found little support for this view among the ruling families, apart from Eijiro; they were more interested in how taxes could be increased. Farming methods were old-fashioned; innovation if it happened was piecemeal and inconsistent. After the war is won, I will rehaul the entire fief, Shigeru promised himself. But now the most important task was to ensure the loyalty and military readiness of the whole clan. And that could be done only by confirming allegiances and not antagonizing anyone.

On the journey out he had made a point of staying two nights in Tsuwano, where Lord Kitano and his sons received him with chilly deference. The close friendship Shigeru had had with Tadao and Masaji seemed to have evaporated after Shigeru had demanded their return from Inuyama the year before. All three repeated their vows of allegiance and gave detailed reports of the troops they had sent to the eastern borders.

“I am a little surprised your sons are in Tsuwano,” Shigeru said. “I expected them to be in Chigawa until the beginning of winter.”

“Their mother has been unwell,” Kitano replied smoothly. “At one stage we feared for her life.”

“I am glad to see her so perfectly recovered!” Shigeru replied.

“If I may offer a word of advice, Lord Shigeru, it is better not to provoke Iida Sadamu any more than you already have. We have heard many reports of his bitterness against you. You have given him cause to hate you.”

“He seizes on any pretext to justify his aggression and lust for power,” Shigeru replied. “He knows that I am not afraid of him.”

“You must be aware that the Tsuwano domain would suffer the most from a Tohan attack.”

“All the more reason to ensure that it is properly defended.”

Kitano’s words stayed with him after he left Tsuwano, causing him some anxiety. He would have liked to journey farther south and meet Noguchi Masayoshi again. The memory of their first meeting also made him uneasy. Noguchi had accompanied Kitano’s sons to Inuyama: since then, Shigeru had had no word of his movements other than the formal interactions demanded by their relationship within the clan, the payment of rice levies and other taxes on the lucrative trade through Hofu. Matsuda had described Noguchi as a coward and an opportunist, and called both him and Kitano pragmatic. I should have insisted the boys come back to Hagi with me, he thought-and if only I had time to travel to Hofu.

ONE AFTERNOON TOWARD the end of the tenth month, when they were on their way back to Yamagata, Takeshi, who had been riding ahead with Kiyoshige, came cantering back to Shigeru.

“I thought you might like to know. The man we sent away in Chigawa, the burned one, is on the road ahead. I can’t imagine you want to talk to him, but… well, I was sorry I treated him so badly before, since he is in your favor, so I’m trying to make amends.”

Shigeru was going to tell Takeshi to send a servant to ask after the man’s health and give him some food, but the beauty of the autumn day and the lightening of his spirits since leaving Moe at her parents’ home suddenly prompted him to say, “We will stop for a while and rest. Tell the young woman to bring her uncle to me.”

A makeshift camp was swiftly set up beneath a small grove of trees, mats spread on the ground and covered with silk cushions, fires lit and water boiled. A small chair was provided for Shigeru, Takeshi sat next to him, and they drank the tea Moe’s parents had given them, picked on the southern slopes of Kushimoto, and ate fresh persimmons and a sweet paste made from chestnuts.

The air was crisp and clear, the sun still pleasantly warm. Ginkgo trees in the grove scattered their leaves in drifts of gold.

He can see none of this, Shigeru thought with pity as the girl led Nesutoro toward him.

“Uncle, Lord Otori is here,” he heard her whisper as she helped him kneel.

“Lord Otori?” He held his face up, as if trying to look with the last of his sight.

“Nesutoro.” He did not want to insult a man of such courage with pity. “I am glad to see your journey is progressing well.”

“Thanks to your kindness, lord.”

“Give him some tea,” he said, and the servants came forward with a wooden bowl. The girl took it from them and placed her uncle’s hands around it. He bowed in thanks and drank.

The girl’s movements were deft and graceful. Shigeru was aware that Takeshi was watching her, and he remembered how he had begun finding his eyes drawn to women. Surely Takeshi was too young! Was he going to be as precocious in this as in everything? He would have to talk to him, warn him against the dangers of infatuation. But the girl was attractive, reminding him of Akane, of how much he missed her.

“What will you do when you get to Maruyama?” he said.

“I believe the Secret One has some plan for my life,” the man replied. “He has spared me; he has brought me this far.” He smiled, making the scars and the sightlessness suddenly less ugly.

“I am glad to have seen you,” Shigeru said, and told the servants to give the girl some rice cakes. “Take care of him.”

She nodded and bowed in thanks, too awed, it seemed, to speak.

Nesutoro said, “May he bless and keep you always.”

“The blessing of their god seems more like a curse,” Takeshi remarked when they resumed their journey.

Shigeru turned in the saddle to catch a last glimpse of the girl leading the blind man along the road. Lit by the afternoon sun, the dust around them made a golden haze.

“I hope he will have a safe and happy life from now on. But can you ever recover from such suffering?”

“Better to take your own life-and far more honorable,” Takeshi said.

“The Hidden are forbidden to kill themselves,” Kiyoshige told him. “Just as they are forbidden to kill.”

It was the complete opposite of everything Takeshi had been brought up to believe. Shigeru could see that the idea was incomprehensible to him. He was not sure he understood it himself. Yet it seemed wrong that those who would not kill should be tortured and murdered: it was like slaughtering children or women for no reason or killing an unarmed man. He had seen for himself the results of blood-lust and unbridled cruelty and now realized the wisdom he had absorbed from Matsuda Shingen. The warrior had been given the right to kill; his class loved the way of the sword. But the right brought responsibility, and love of the way of the sword must never be allowed to become a love of killing for its own sake. He hoped Takeshi would learn this, too, in the coming year.

They were met outside Yamagata by Nagai Tadayoshi, who had shown Shigeru so much of the town, the surrounding area, and the records of both during his stay two years before. Nagai was an austere and undemonstrative man, but he could not hide his pleasure at the meeting. Shigeru was equally glad to see him again, feeling he could trust Nagai completely, and he was delighted to be in Yamagata, the town whose people he had formed such close bonds with.

The annual business of government took up many hours of each day. Shigeru devoted himself patiently to these affairs, determined not to leave Yamagata before he had word from Eijiro or his sons or Harada about the outcome of their negotiations. At first Takeshi attended the meetings too but seeing his boredom and fearing he would exhaust too soon the concentration and discipline he would need for his time at Terayama, Shigeru allowed him to go with Kiyoshige and the other captains to assess the capabilities and readiness of the Yamagata warriors, a task Takeshi took to with alacrity.

They met in the evening to bathe and eat. Kiyoshige then usually took himself off to get the feeling of the town, as he put it. Shigeru did not allow Takeshi to go with him, knowing that getting the feeling of the town usually took place in pleasure houses among the beautiful women of Yamagata. But he found the information Kiyoshige gleaned from these excursions useful. Nagai had somewhat reluctantly suggested that Shigeru also might like to meet some beautiful women, but he had declined. It seemed unnecessarily insulting to his wife, and, he realized, he did not want to hurt Akane by breaking his promise not to make her jealous. Besides, his refusal had so delighted Nagai it had been worth it for that alone.

So when Kiyoshige sent a message early one evening to say he had returned with a woman he wanted Shigeru to meet, Shigeru was at first inclined to refuse. The day’s meetings had been long and demanding; his head ached and he was hungry. He did not intend to sleep with Kiyoshige’s woman, however attractive she was, and so there seemed no point in meeting her. He sent a reply to that effect, but an hour later, while he was finishing the evening meal and talking to Nagai about the following day’s arrangements, Kiyoshige himself came to the room and drank wine with them.

“When you are finished, Lord Shigeru, spare me a few minutes of your company. This girl will intrigue you, I promise. She is from Kumamoto; she plays the lute and sings. I think you will like her songs.”

Kumamoto: home of the Arai.

“Maybe I will join you for a little while,” he replied.

“We are at the Todoya,” Kiyoshige said. “Come anytime. We will wait all night!”

Nagai sat saying nothing, a look of disapproval on his face. Shigeru regretted the tarnishing of his bright reputation, but it was more important to keep his negotiations with the Seishuu secret. He did not leave immediately, not wanting to insult the older man; they talked for another hour or so, at first about administrative affairs, and then, after a third flask of wine, about Nagai’s passion for gardening. Finally Shigeru stood and wished him good night. He went to the privy to relieve himself, and then, calling for two guards to come with him, walked from the residence through the inner courtyard to the castle gatehouse.

It could hardly be called a castle, though the foundations and the moat walls were of stone. Lying in the heart of the Middle Country, Yamagata had never come under attack and was not built to be defended. Shigeru thought about this as he crossed the bridge over the moat. The residence buildings were all wooden. They stood behind walls and strong gates, but he saw how easily they could be taken. Iida Sadamu was said to be building himself a mighty castle at Inuyama. Should the Otori be fortifying their towns in the same way? It was something else to discuss with Nagai.

It was about the second half of the Hour of the Boar. There was no moon, but the constellations of stars were brilliant in the cold clear night. There was a hint of frost in the air, the men’s breath was visible, and a slight mist rose from the surface of the water. On the bank, bulrushes emerged like lances, and the willows’ long branches, now almost bare, were wreathed in the pale vapor.

The town was quiet, most people already asleep. Only a few inns and pleasure houses still had lamps outside, their glow warm orange. From inside came sounds of music, women singing, men laughing, their voices made loud by wine.

The Todoya was built on the riverbank, its verandas extending out over the water; long boats were moored beneath them, and lanterns hung on the corners of the eaves and on the ends of the boats. Braziers had been carried onto the verandas, and several people sat outside, wrapped in animal pelts, enjoying the brilliance of the autumn night. There were two of Kiyoshige’s men outside the main entrance; when they recognized Shigeru, one of them called inside to a maid to fetch Kiyoshige, while the other knelt to unfasten Shigeru’s sandals.

Kiyoshige appeared, gave him a knowing smile, and led him to a room at the back of the house. It was a private room, reserved for special guests, spacious and comfortable, warmed by two charcoal braziers, though the doors were open onto the garden. The night was windless. Water trickled from a fountain, echoing slightly like a bell. Occasionally there was a rustle as a leaf detached itself and fell.

A young woman, around seventeen years of age, knelt beside one of the braziers. She was small, but not slight and fragile like his wife. Her limbs were strong, almost muscled, and beneath her robe her body was compact and firm. She bowed to the floor when he entered the room, and sat up when Kiyoshige told her to. She kept her eyes down, and her whole demeanor was modest and refined, but Shigeru suspected it was partly assumed. His suspicions were confirmed when she glanced at him, met his gaze, and held it. Her eyes were extraordinarily sharp and intelligent. She is more than she seems, he thought suddenly. I must be very careful what I say.

“Lord Otori,” she said. “It is a great honor.” Her voice was soft, also refined, her language formal and courteous. Yet she was in a house of pleasure: he could not place her. “My name is Shizuka.”

Again he sensed disguise: the name meant tranquillity, yet he felt this woman was far from tranquil. She poured wine for him and Kiyoshige.

“You are from Kumamoto, I believe,” he said, as though making idle conversation.

“My mother lives there, but I have many relatives in Yamagata. My family name is Muto. Lord Otori may have heard of them.”

He recalled, from Nagai’s records, a merchant of that name, a manufacturer of soybean products, he thought, and could even place where the house was.

“You are visiting your relatives, then?”

“I often come to Yamagata for that purpose.” She glanced at Kiyoshige and dropped her voice. “Forgive me, Lord Otori, if I come closer. We do not wish to be heard by the wrong people.” She shuffled toward him until they sat knee to knee. He could smell her fragrance and could not help thinking how attractive she was; her voice when she spoke had not lost its feminine note, but her speech was direct and matter-of-fact, like a man’s.

“Your relative, Otori Danjo, came to Kumamoto two weeks ago. He is the same age as Lord Arai’s eldest son, Daiichi. They met at Maruyama when they were boys. Both were taught by Sugita Haruki. But I expect Lord Otori is already aware of this.”

“Of course I knew Danjo’s mother is from the Sugita family. I did not know he was already acquainted with Arai Daiichi.”

“He and Danjo were happy to see each other again; and Lord Arai was very pleased to have such good news of Lord Otori’s health. I am also closely acquainted with Lord Arai,” Shizuka went on. “That is why I am here. I come at his request.”

Closely acquainted? What did she mean? Were they lovers? Was she Arai’s acknowledged mistress, as Akane was his? Or was she a spy, sent by Iida to trap him into revealing his plans?

“I hope I will have the pleasure of meeting Lord Arai himself,” he said noncommittally. For a moment he felt like the Otori symbol, the heron, peering into opaque water, waiting for something to move that he might stab at it.

She gazed at him frankly for a long moment, then reached into the folds of her robe and took out a small roll of paper. “I have a letter from him. He accompanied Danjo back to Kibi, just across the border.”

He took the note and unrolled it, seeing the vermilion seal with the Arai characters.

“Lord Arai says he had heard that I am in Yamagata and invites me to visit him, since he is, by coincidence, in Kibi,” he said to Kiyoshige. “He suggests we go hawking on Kibi plain.”

“Hawking is a very popular pursuit,” Kiyoshige remarked. “As long as no one is swallowed up by the earth.”

“Why did he send the letter with you?” Shigeru asked the woman. “Any messenger could have brought it to me.”

“Most messengers would simply have delivered it,” she replied. “I was to see you first and…”

“And what?” He did not know whether to be affronted or amused.

“And decide if we should take matters further.”

He was surprised by her boldness and confidence. She spoke as if she were one of Arai’s senior advisers rather than a concubine.

“You decided very quickly,” he said.

“I am able to sum up a character very quickly. I believe Lord Otori is to be trusted.”

But are you? he thought, but did not speak it.

“Ride toward Kibi tomorrow. Just over the wooden bridge, there is a fox shrine. A horseman will meet you there. Follow him toward the southwest. Bring only a few men, and let everyone know that you ride out for pleasure.”

“We should have hawks,” Shigeru said to Kiyoshige.

He nodded. “I will arrange it.”

“It will be a perfect day for hawking,” the woman called Muto Shizuka said.