Across the Nightingale Floor (26 page)

We walked westwards, along the
southern side of the castle. As it grew dark I was thankful that there would be
no moon and no stars. Torches flared from the castle gate, and the shops were
lit by candles and oil lamps. There was a smell of sesame and soy, rice wine
and grilling fish. Despite everything, I was hungry. I thought to stop and buy
something, but Kenji suggested going a little farther. The street became darker
and emptier. I could hear some wheeled vehicle rumbling over cobblestones, and
then the sounds of a flute. There was something unspeakably eerie about it. The
hairs on the back of my neck stood up in warning.

“Let's go back,” I said, and at
that moment a small procession emerged from an alley in front of us. I took
them for street performers of some sort. An old man wheeled a cart with
decorations and pictures on it. A girl was playing the flute, but she let it
fall when she saw us. Two young men came out of the shadows holding tops, one
spinning, one flying. In the half-light they seemed magical, possessed by
spirits. I stopped. Kenji stood right behind me. Another girl stepped towards
us, saying, “Come and look, lord.”

I recognized her voice, but it was
a couple of moments before I placed her. Then I jumped backwards, evading Kenji
and leaving my second self by the cart. It was the girl from the inn at
Yamagata, the girl of whom Kenji had said, “She's one of us.”

To my surprise one of the young men
followed me, taking no notice of my image. I went invisible, but he guessed
where I was. I knew for certain then. These were Tribe, come to claim me, as
Kenji had said, had known they would. I dropped to the ground, rolled, slid
beneath the cart, but my teacher was on the other side. I tried to bite his
hand, but his other one came up to my jaw, forcing it away. I kicked him instead,
went limp in his grasp, tried to slide through his fingers, but all the tricks
I knew he had taught me.

“Be quiet, Takeo,” he hissed. “Stop
struggling. No one's going to hurt you.”

“All right,” I said, and went
still. He loosened his grip and in that moment I got away from him. I pulled my
knife from my sash. But the five of them were fighting in earnest now. One of
the young men feinted at me, making me back up to the cart. I slashed out at
him and felt the knife strike bone. Then I cut one of the girls. The other had
gone invisible and I felt her drop like a monkey from the top of the cart, her
legs around my shoulders, one hand over my mouth, the other at my neck. I knew
of course the place she was going for, and twisted violently, losing my balance.
The man I'd cut got my wrist, and I felt it bend backwards until I lost my grip
on the knife. The girl and I fell together to the ground. Her hands were still
at my throat. Just before I lost consciousness I clearly saw Shigeru sitting in
the room, waiting for us to return. I tried to scream in outrage at the
enormity of the betrayal, but my mouth was covered, and even my ears could hear
nothing.

It was early evening, on the third
day after her arrival at Inuyama. Since the moment the swaying palanquin had
carried her into the castle, Kaede's spirits had fallen lower and lower. Even
more than Noguchi, Inuyama was oppressive and full of terror.

The women of the household were
subdued and grief-stricken, still mourning their lady, Iida's wife, who had
died in the early summer. Kaede had only seen their lord briefly, but it was
impossible not to be aware of his presence. He dominated the residence, and
everyone moved in fear of his moods and rages. No one spoke openly.
Congratulations were mouthed to her by women with tired voices and empty eyes,
and they prepared her wedding robes with listless hands. She felt doom settle
over her.

Lady Maruyama, after her initial
joy at seeing her daughter, was preoccupied and tense. Several times she seemed
inclined to take Kaede into her confidence, but they were rarely alone for
long. Kaede spent the hours trying to recall all the events of the journey,
trying to make some sense out of the undercurrents that swirled around her, but
she realized she knew nothing. Nothing was as it seemed, and she could trust no
one—not even Shizuka, despite what the girl had told her. For her family's sake
she must steel herself to go through with the marriage to Lord Otori: She had
no reason to suspect that the marriage would not go ahead as planned, and yet,
she did not believe in it. It seemed as remote as the moon. But if she did not
marry—if another man died on her account—there would be no way out for her but
her own death.

She tried to face it with courage,
but to herself she could not pretend: She was fifteen years old, she did not
want to die, she wanted to live and to be with Takeo.

The stifling day was slowly drawing
to an end, the watery sun casting an eerie reddish light over the town. Kaede
was weary and restless, longing to divest herself of the layers of robes she
wore, longing for the coolness and dark of night, yet dreading the next day,
and the next.

“The Otori lords came to the castle
today, didn't they?” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“Yes, Lord Iida received them.”
Shizuka hesitated. Kaede felt her eyes on her, and was aware of her pity.
Shizuka said quietly, “Lady . . .”

She went no further.

“What is it?”

Shizuka began to speak brightly of
wedding clothes as two maids passed by outside, their feet making the floor
sing. When the sound had died away, Kaede asked, “What were you about to say?”

“You remember I told you that you
could kill someone with a needle? I'm going to show you how. You never know,
you might need it.”

She took out what looked like an
ordinary needle, but when Kaede held it she realized it was stronger and
heavier, a miniature weapon. Shizuka demonstrated how to drive it into the eye
or into the neck.

“Now hide it in the hem of your
sleeve. Be careful, don't stick yourself with it.”

Kaede shuddered, half-appalled,
half-fascinated. “I don't know if I could do it.”

“You stabbed a man in rage,”
Shizuka said.

“You know that?”

“Arai told me. In rage or fear,
humans don't know what they are capable of. Keep your knife with you at all
times. I wish we had swords, but they are too hard to conceal. The best thing,
if it comes to a fight, is to kill a man as soon as possible and take his
sword.”

“What's going to happen?” Kaede
whispered.

“I wish I could tell you
everything, but it's too dangerous for you. I just want you to be prepared.”

Kaede opened her mouth to question
her further, but Shizuka murmured, “You must be silent: Ask me nothing and say
nothing to anyone. The less you know, the safer you are.”

Kaede had been given a small room
at the end of the residence, next to the larger room where the Iida women were,
with Lady Maruyama and her daughter. Both rooms opened onto the garden that lay
along the southern side of the residence, and she could hear the splash of
water and the slight movement of the trees. All night Kaede was aware of
Shizuka's wakefulness. Once she sat and saw the girl cross-legged in the
doorway, barely visible against the starless sky. Owls hooted in the dark
hours, and at dawn from the river came the cries of waterfowl. It began to
rain.

She dozed off listening to them,
and was woken by the strident calls of crows. The rain had stopped and it was
already hot. Shizuka was dressed. When she saw Kaede was awake, she knelt
beside her and whispered, “Lady, I have to try to speak to Lord Otori. Will you
please get up and write a letter to him, a poem or something? I need a pretext
to visit him again.”

“What's happened?” Kaede said,
alarmed by the girl's drawn face.

“I don't know. Last night I was
expecting something. . . . It didn't happen. I have to go and find out why.”

In a louder voice she said, “I will
prepare ink, but my lady must not be so impatient. You have all day to write
suitable poems.”

“What shall I write?” Kaede
whispered. “I don't know how to write poetry. I never learned.”

“It doesn't matter, something about
married love, mandarin ducks, the clematis and the wall.”

Kaede could almost have believed
Shizuka was joking, except that the girl's demeanor was deathly serious.

“Help me dress,” she said imperiously.
“Yes, I know it is early, but stop complaining. I must write at once to Lord
Otori.”

Shizuka smiled encouragingly at
her, forcing her mouth in her pale face.

She wrote something, she hardly
knew what, and in the loudest voice possible told Shizuka to hurry to the Otori
lodging house with it. Shizuka went with a show of reluctance, and Kaede heard
her complain quietly to the guards, heard their laughter in response.

She called for the maids to bring
her tea and, when she had drunk it, sat gazing out onto the garden, trying to
calm her fears, trying to be as courageous as Shizuka. Every now and then her
fingers went to the needle in her sleeve, or to the smooth, cool handle of the
knife inside her robe. She thought of how Lady Maruyama and Shizuka had taught
her to fight. What were they anticipating? She had felt herself a pawn in the
game being played around her, but at least they had tried to prepare her, and
they had given her weapons.

Shizuka was back within the hour,
bringing a letter in return from Lord Otori, a poem written with lightness and
skill.

Kaede gazed at it. “What does it
mean?”

“It's just an excuse. He had to
write something in return.”

“Is Lord Otori well?” she asked
formally.

“Yes, indeed, and waiting with all
his heart for you.”

“Tell me the truth,” Kaede
whispered. She looked at Shizuka's face, saw the hesitation in her eyes. “Lord
Takeo—he's dead?”

“We don't know.” Shizuka sighed
deeply. “I must tell you. He has disappeared with Kenji. Lord Otori believes
the Tribe has taken him.”

“What does that mean?” She felt the
tea she had drunk earlier move in her stomach, and thought for a moment she
would vomit.

“Let us walk in the garden while
it's still cool,” Shizuka said calmly.

Kaede stood and thought she would
faint. She felt drops of sweat form, cold and clammy, on her brow. Shizuka held
her under the elbow and led her onto the veranda, knelt in front of her, and
helped her feet into her sandals.

As they walked slowly down the path
among the trees and shrubs, the babble of water from the stream covered their
voices. Shizuka whispered quickly and urgently into Kaede's ear.

“Last night there was to be an
attempt on Iida's life. Arai is barely thirty miles away with a huge army. The
warrior monks at Terayama are poised to take the town of Yamagata. The Tohan
could be overthrown.”

“What does it have to do with Lord
Takeo?”

“He was to be the assassin. He was
to climb into the castle last night. But the Tribe took him.”

“Takeo? The assassin?” Kaede felt
like laughing at such an unlikely idea. Then she remembered the darkness that
he retreated to, how he always hid his deftness. She realized she hardly knew
what lay beneath the surface, yet she had known that there was something more.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“Who are the Tribe?”

“Takeo's father was of the Tribe,
and he was born with unusual talents.”

“Like yours,” Kaede said flatly.
“And your uncle's.”

“Far greater than either of us,”
Shizuka said. “But you are right: We are also from the Tribe.”

“You are a spy? An assassin? Is
that why you pretend to be my servant?”

“I don't pretend to be your
friend,” Shizuka replied swiftly. “I've told you before that you can trust me.
Indeed, Arai himself entrusted you to my care.”

“How can I believe that when I have
been told so many lies?” Kaede said, and felt the corners of her eyes grow hot.

“I am telling you the truth now,”
Shizuka said, somber.

Kaede felt the faintness of shock
sweep over her and then recede a little, leaving her calm and lucid. “My
marriage to Lord Otori—was that arranged to give him a reason to come to
Inuyama?”

“Not by him. On his part the
marriage was made a condition of Takeo's adoption. But once he had agreed to
it, he saw it would give him a reason to bring Takeo into the Tohan
stronghold.” Shizuka paused and then said very quietly, “Iida and the Otori
lords may use the marriage to you as a cover for Shigeru's death. This is
partly why I was sent to you: to protect you both.”

“My reputation will always be
useful,” she said bitterly, made all too aware of the power men had over her,
and how they used it, regardless. The faintness came over her again.

“You must sit for a while,” Shizuka
said. The shrubs had given way to a more open garden with a view over the moat
and the river to the mountains beyond. A pavilion had been built across the
stream, placed to catch every faint trace of breeze. They made their way to it,
stepping carefully across the rocks. Cushions had been prepared on the floor,
and here they sat down. The flowing water gave a sense of coolness, and
kingfishers and swallows swooped through the pavilion with sudden flashes of
color. In the pools beyond, lotus flowers lifted their purple-pink blooms, and
a few deep-blue irises still flowered at the water's edge, their petals almost
the same color as the cushions.

“What does it mean, to be taken by
the Tribe?” Kaede asked, her fingers restlessly rubbing the fabric beneath her.

“The family Takeo belongs to, the
Kikuta, thought the assassination attempt would fail. They did not want to lose
him, so they stepped in to prevent it. My uncle played a role in this.”

“And you?”

“No, I was of the opinion that the
attempt should be made. I thought Takeo had every chance of succeeding, and no
revolt against the Tohan will happen while Iida lives.”