Heaven's Net Is Wide

45

By the time Naomi had arrived home, her compan-ion, Sachie, who knew her so intimately, had begun to suspect what had happened. When they were alone inside the residence, the two women stared at each other. Sachie’s eyes held the question. Naomi could only nod.

“But how?” Sachie began.

“At Terayama. He was there. Don’t say anything to me. I know what a fool I have been. Now I am going to get rid of it.”

She saw Sachie flinch and was unreasonably angry with her. “I am not asking you to have anything to do with it. If it offends you, then leave me. Someone is coming to help me.” She was silent for a moment, then said, her voice breaking, “But she must come soon.”

“Lady Naomi!” Sachie reached out to her as if she would embrace her, but Naomi stood rigid. “I would never leave you at a time like this. But is there no alternative?”

“I cannot think of one,” Naomi said bitterly. “If you can devise some way out, some way for me not to kill Lord Shigeru’s child, then tell me. Otherwise don’t pity me, or you will weaken me. I will weep later when it is all over.”

Sachie bowed her head, tears in her eyes.

“In the meantime you may tell the household I have caught a severe cold. I will see no one, except the woman with whom we rode to Yamagata, Muto Shizuka. She must come soon,” she repeated, gazing into the garden where the rain fell steadily.

Two days later there was a brief break in the weather, and in a patch of sunshine and blue skies, Shizuka arrived with Bunta.

Alone in the room with Naomi, she listened in silence to the curt request, asked for no explanations, and offered no sympathy.

“I will be back tonight,” she said. “Eat and drink nothing. Try to rest. You will not sleep tonight, and it will be painful.”

She returned with herbs from which she made a bitter infusion and helped Naomi drink it. Within hours the cramps began, followed by severe pain and heavy bleeding. Shizuka stayed with her throughout the night, wiping the sweat from her face, washing away the blood, reassuring her that it would soon pass.

“You will have other children,” she whispered. “As I did.”

“You have been through this too,” Naomi said, letting the tears flow now as much for Shizuka as for herself.

“Yes, my first child. It did not suit the Tribe for me to have it at that time. My aunt gave me this same brew. I was very unhappy. But if the Tribe had not done that to me, I would never have dared defy them to help Lord Shigeru and to keep your secret. Men cannot foresee what the results of their actions will be because they do not take account of the human heart.”

“Are you in love with Lord Shigeru?” Naomi heard herself asking. “Is that why you do so much for us?” The darkness, the intimacy between them, made her dare to utter such words.

Shizuka replied with the same honesty. “I love him deeply, but we will never be together in this life. That precious fate is yours.”

“It is a fate that has brought me little but sorrow,” Naomi said. “But I would not choose any other.”

Toward dawn the pain eased and she slept a little; when she woke, Sachie was in the room and Shizuka was preparing to leave. Naomi was filled with dread at the idea of her departure.

“Stay a little longer! Don’t leave me yet!”

“Lady, I cannot stay. I should not be here. Someone will find out, and it will bring us all into danger.”

“You will not tell Lord Shigeru?” Naomi began to weep at his name.

“Of course not! It may anyway be a long time till I am able to see him. You may see him yourself before then. You must rest and recover your strength. You have many who love you and who will take care of you.”

When Naomi wept more despairingly, Shizuka tried to comfort her. “Next time I go to Hagi, I will come here first. You may send a message to him then.”

It was nine weeks to the day when Naomi had lain down next to Shigeru as if in a dream.

The child’s life had been extinguished swiftly and easily. She could not even pray openly for its soul or express her grief and her anger that she could not live freely with the man she loved. Her mood became very dark, as if a heavy spirit had possessed her, and she was given to outbursts of rage against her retainers and servants, which led the elders to express among themselves the opinion that she was showing all the irrationality of a woman and was maybe not fit to govern alone. They began to suggest marriage to Iida or to someone chosen by him, thus enraging her further.

When summer passed and the cooler autumn weather came, she had still not fully recovered, and she began to dread the coming of winter. She had meant to travel to Inuyama again but knew she was not well enough to face Iida and maintain her self-control. Yet she feared offending him and disappointing Mariko further.

“My life is hopeless,” she said in despair one night to Sachie and her sister, Eriko. “I should end it now.”

“Don’t speak in this way,” Sachie pleaded. “Things will get better. You will recover your strength.”

“There is nothing wrong with my health,” Naomi replied. “But I cannot rid myself of this terrible darkness that lies on my spirit.” She whispered, “If only I could acknowledge the-what happened-I feel I would be absolved. But I cannot, and while I cannot, I will never have any peace.”

Eriko and Sachie exchanged a quick glance, and Sachie said equally quietly, “My sister and I were unable to help you with what you needed before. But perhaps we can offer you healing now.”

“There are no herbs for this sort of ailing,” Naomi said.

“But there is one who can help you,” Eriko said hesitantly.

Naomi sat in silence for a while. She had told Shigeru that she was familiar with the teachings of the Hidden and even held a great sympathy for the persecuted sect. But she had not told him-for the secret was not hers to give away-that both Sachie and Eriko were believers; that Mari, the niece of the tortured man whom Shigeru had rescued years ago near Chigawa, worked in the castle and kept the two women in touch with the Hidden throughout the West and with the former Otori warrior Harada, who had become something of an itinerant priest after serving Nesutoro as disciple and servant. She had had many discussions with the two sisters about their faith and had in the past often felt a yearning to abandon herself like them to the love and mercy of a Supreme Being who would accept her for what she was, an ordinary human being, no better and no worse than any other. But now she had taken life, had sinned beyond forgiveness-and she could not repent, for given the same choices she would take the same action again.

“I know what you mean,” she said finally. “I would turn to any spiritual being who would give me relief. But I have offended deeply by killing my own child. I am unable to pray openly to the Enlightened One or go to the shrine. How can I turn to your god, to the Secret One, when your first commandment is not to kill?”

Eriko said, “He knows everything in your heart. His first commandment is to love him; his second, to love all men and forgive those who hate us. It is because of love that we do not take life. That is for him alone to decide. We live in the midst of the world; if we repent, I believe he understands and forgives us.”

“And will forgive you,” Sachie added, taking Naomi’s hand.

Eriko took her other hand, and they sat with bowed heads. Naomi knew the other two women were praying, and she tried to still her heart and her thoughts.

They delude themselves, she thought. There is nothing there-and even if there were, I would not be able to heed its voice, for I am a ruler and must rule with power.

Yet as the silence deepened, she was aware of something beyond herself, some greater presence that both towered above her and waited humbly for her to turn to it. She saw suddenly how this could be the highest allegiance anyone could make; one could kneel before this and genuinely submit one’s body and soul. It was the opposite to the earthly power of warlords like Iida, and maybe the only power that could check such men.

She did turn and whispered, “I am sorry,” and felt the lightest of touches, like a healing hand on her heart.

Throughout the winter she talked to Eriko and Sachie often and prayed with them, and before the beginning of the new year, she had been received into the community of the Hidden.

She realized there were many levels of belief, and many people held them whom she had not suspected of so doing. She became aware of the network they formed across her domain, throughout the West, indeed throughout the Three Countries, though in Tohan lands they were still persecuted. It was whispered that Iida himself took part in hunting them down, indulging his pleasure in killing.

In many ways, Naomi struggled against belief. It was not an easy decision. Her pride in her position and her family made her recoil from putting herself on the same level as ordinary people. She believed she had always treated them fairly, but to see them as her equals was strange and affronting to her. Yet belief brought her a sense of forgiveness, and forgiveness brought her peace.

There were other conflicts within her that seemed impossible to resolve. The beliefs of the Hidden forbade the taking of life, yet the only way to set her daughter free and bring not only happiness to herself but peace and justice to the Three Countries was for Iida to die. She remembered the discussions she had had with Shigeru about assassination; must she now abandon all these plans and leave Iida’s punishment to the Secret One, who saw everything and dealt with everyone after death?

Heaven’s net is wide, but its mesh is fine, she said to herself.

She thought of Shigeru constantly, though she had little hope of meeting him or hearing from him. The narrow escape from discovery had alarmed and shocked her: she could not bear to take such a risk again. Yet she still longed for him, still loved him deeply, wanted now to tell him about the child and ask his forgiveness. She wrote letters to him all winter, which she hoped to send with Shizuka, and then tore them into scraps and burned them.

Spring came; the snows had melted: messengers, travelers, and peddlers once again began their journeys across the Three Countries. Naomi had little time to brood, luckily, for she was always busy. She had to resume the control and leadership of her clan, which had slipped from her a little while she was ill. Even when the weather was too bad to ride outside, there were many meetings held with the clan elders, many decisions that had to be made regarding trade, industry, mining and agriculture, military affairs and diplomacy.

When she had time, she liked to retreat in the afternoons with Sachie and Eriko and prepare tea for them in the teahouse built by her grandmother. The ritual took on some of the holy qualities of the shared meal of the Hidden. The maid, Mari, usually waited on them, bringing hot water and little cakes of sweetened chestnut or bean paste, and often Harada Tomasu joined them to pray with them.

One day in the fifth month, to Naomi’s delight, Shizuka’s name was announced to her, and Mari brought her into the garden.

Shizuka stepped into the teahouse and knelt before Naomi, then sat up and studied her face. “Lady Maruyama has recovered,” she said quietly, “and regained all her beauty.”

“And you, Shizuka, have you been well? Where did you spend the winter?” Naomi thought Shizuka looked unusually pale and subdued.

“I have been in Noguchi all winter with Lord Arai. I thought I would be able to go to Hagi now, but something just happened, here in Maruyama, that has alarmed me.”

“Can you tell me what it is?” Naomi said.

“It may be nothing. I am imagining things. I thought I saw my uncle Kenji in the street. Well, I didn’t see him, actually, I smelled him-he has quite a distinct smell-and then I realized there was someone using one of the Tribe skills to hide their presence. He was ahead of me and upwind, so I don’t think he saw me. But it worried me. Why would he be here? He rarely comes this far to the West. I am afraid he is watching me. I have aroused his suspicions in some way. I should not go to Hagi, for I will give away my friendship with Lord Shigeru, and if the Tribe find out…”

“Please go!” Naomi begged her. “I will write to him now. I will be quick; I won’t delay you.”

“I should not carry letters,” Shizuka said. “It is too dangerous. Tell me your message. If I think it is safe-not only for me but for us all-I will try to see Lord Shigeru before summer.”

“Sachie, prepare tea for Shizuka while I sit for a few moments and think of what I want to say,” Naomi requested, but before Sachie could move, Mari called quietly from the doorway.

“Lady Maruyama, Harada Tomasu has something to tell you. May I bring him here?”

Shizuka had gone still. “Who is Harada?” she whispered.

“He was one of Shigeru’s retainers,” Naomi replied. “You have nothing to fear from him.” Harada was the former Otori warrior who had once taken a message from her to Shigeru and had arranged their first meeting. She held him in great affection for that reason, and also because she had spoken to him many times about his beliefs. “Can he have brought a message from Hagi?” Her hands were trembling against the delicate pottery of the tea bowl, sending tiny ripples across the surface of the tea.

She called to Mari. “Yes, bring him at once.”

Mari bowed and left, and returned after a little while with Harada.

Naomi greeted the one-eyed man warmly. He looked thinner and more spare, as though the fire of his conviction was consuming him from within.

“Lady Maruyama, I feel I must go to Hagi and see Lord Otori.”

“What has happened?” she said with some alarm.

“I have had no news of Lord Otori for months,” he replied. “As far as I know, he is well. But I have a strong feeling I should take some information I’ve heard recently to him.”

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“There is a peddler who travels from Inuyama; he has been to Hagi often too. He is one of us and brings news of our people from the East and the Middle Country. The year before last, for the first time he went beyond the capital into the mountains-he will return there this summer. He let slip that there is a boy there who looks like one of the Otori.”

She stared at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“It may be nothing important. An illegitimate son…?”

“Lord Shigeru’s?” she said in a forced voice.

“No, no, I would not suggest that. The boy must be fifteen or sixteen, nearly fully grown. But from the Otori, definitely.” His voice trailed away. “I am making too much of it: I thought Lord Shigeru would like to know.”

Shizuka had been kneeling quietly to one side. Now she said, “Lady Maruyama, may I ask this man a question?”

Naomi nodded, grateful for the interruption. He is too old to be Shigeru’s son, she was thinking in a mixture of relief and disappointment. But maybe they are related in some way.

“Did he notice anything else?” Shizuka said, her voice compelling. “He speaks of a facial likeness, no doubt. Did he see the boy’s hands?”

Harada stared at her. “As a matter of fact, he did.” He glanced at Naomi and said, “Lady Maruyama?”

“You may speak in front of her,” Naomi said.

“He noticed them because the boy is one of us, one of the Hidden,” Harada said quietly. “But he wanted to hold the sword. And his hands were marked across the palm.”

“Like mine?” Shizuka said, holding out her hands palm upward.

“I suppose so,” Haruda said. “The peddler took a liking to the family, and now he is worried about them. So many of us are dying in the East.”

They all stared at Shizuka’s hands, at the straight line that almost seemed to cut the palm in half.

“What does it mean?” Naomi asked.

“It means I have to go to Hagi at once,” Shizuka replied, “no matter how dangerous it is, and inform Lord Shigeru. You need not go,” she told Harada. “I must go! I must tell him this!”

The idea came to Naomi that she would present him with this boy; it seemed like a gift, to replace the child she had had to kill. She saw the hand of God in it. This was the message Shizuka must take for her. Amazed and grateful, she rose to her feet.

“Yes, you must go to Hagi and tell Lord Otori. You must go at once.”