Across the Nightingale Floor (31 page)

But for me the night's work was not
finished. I swam back to the bank and picked up Jato. There was hardly a trace
of blood on the blade. I wiped it and put it back in the scabbard. I knew Kenji
was right—it would hamper my climbing—but I needed Jato now. I did not say a
word to Kenji, and nothing to Yuki beyond “I'll see you in Terayama.”

Kenji whispered, “Takeo,” but
without conviction. He must have known nothing would stop me. He embraced Yuki
swiftly. It was only then that I realized that she was of course his daughter.
He followed me back into the river.

Kaede waited for night to come. She
knew there was no other choice but to kill herself. She thought about dying
with the same intensity she brought to everything. Her family's honor had
depended on the marriage—so her father had told her. Now in the confusion and
turmoil that had surrounded her all day, she clung to the conviction that the
only way to protect her family's name was to act with honor herself.

It was early evening on what should
have been her wedding day. She was still dressed in the robes that the Tohan
ladies had prepared for her. They were more sumptuous and elegant than anything
she had ever worn, and inside them she felt as tiny and fragile as a doll. The
women's eyes had been red with weeping for the death of Lady Maruyama, but
Kaede had been told nothing about this until after the massacre of the Otori
men. Then one horror after another was revealed to her, until she thought she
would go mad from outrage and grief.

The residence with its elegant
rooms, its treasures of art, its beautiful gardens, had become a place of
violence and torture. Outside its walls across the nightingale floor, hung the
man she was supposed to have married. All afternoon she had heard the guards,
their taunts and their foul laughter. Her heart swelled to breaking point, and
she wept constantly. Sometimes she heard her own name mentioned, and knew that
her reputation had grown worse. She felt she had caused Lord Otori's downfall.
She wept for him, for his utter humiliation at Iida's hands. She wept for her
parents and the shame she was bringing them.

Just when she thought she had cried
her eyes dry, the tears welled and streamed down her face again. Lady Maruyama,
Mariko, Sachie . . . they were all gone, swept away by the current of Tohan
violence. All people she cared about were either dead or vanished.

And she wept for herself because
she was fifteen years old and her life was over before it had begun. She
mourned the husband she would never know, the children she would never bear,
the future that the knife would put an end to. Her only consolation was the
painting Takeo had given her. She held it in her hand and gazed on it
constantly. Soon she would be free, like the little bird of the mountain.

Shizuka went to the kitchens for a
while to ask for some food to be brought, joining in the guards' jokes with
apparent heartlessness as she went past. When she returned the mask fell away.
Her face was drawn with grief.

“Lady,” she said, her bright voice
belying her true feelings, “I must comb your hair. It's all over the place. And
you must change your clothes.”

She helped Kaede undress and called
to the maids to take the heavy wedding robes away.

“I will put on my night robe now,”
Kaede said. I will see no one else today." Clad in the light cotton
garment, she sat on the floor by the open window. It was raining gently and a
little cooler. The garden dripped with moisture as though it, too, were in
deepest mourning.

Shizuka knelt behind her, taking up
the heavy weight of her hair and running her fingers through it. She breathed
into Kaede's ear, “I sent a message to the Muto residence in the city. I have just
heard back from them. Takeo was hidden there, as I thought. They are going to
permit him to retrieve Lord Otori's body.”

“Lord Otori is dead?”

“No, not yet.” Shizuka's voice
trailed away. She was shaking with emotion. “The outrage,” she murmured, “the
shame. He cannot be left there. Takeo must come for him.”

Kaede said, “Then he, too, will die
today.”

“My messenger is also going to try
to reach Arai,” Shizuka whispered. “But I do not know if he can arrive in time
to help us.”

“I never believed anyone could
challenge the Tohan,” Kaede said. “Lord Iida is invincible. His cruelty gives
him power.” She gazed out of the window at the falling rain, the gray mist that
enshrouded the mountains. “Why have men made such a harsh world?” she said in a
low voice.

A string of wild geese flew
overhead, calling mournfully. In the distance beyond the walls a deer barked.

Kaede put her hand to her head. Her
hair was wet with Shizuka's tears. “When will Takeo come?”

“If he does, late at night.” There
was a long pause and then Shizuka said, “It is a hopeless venture.”

Kaede did not reply. I will wait
for him, she promised herself. I will see him once more.

She felt the cool handle of the
knife inside her robe. Shizuka noticed the movement, drew her close, and
embraced her. “Don't be afraid. Whatever you do, I will stay with you. I will
follow you into the next world.”

They held each other for a long
time. Exhausted by emotion, Kaede slipped into the stage of bewilderment that
accompanies grief. She felt as if she were dreaming and had entered another
world, one in which she lay in Takeo's arms, without fear. Only he can save me,
she found herself thinking. Only he can bring me back to life.

Later she told Shizuka she would
like to bathe, and asked her to pluck her brow and eyebrows and scrub her feet
and legs smooth. She ate a little and then sat in outwardly composed silence,
meditating on what she had been taught as a child, remembering the serene face
of the Enlightened One at Terayama.

“Have compassion on me,” she
prayed. “Help me to have courage.”

The maids came to spread the beds.
Kaede was getting ready to lie down and had placed the knife underneath the
mattress. It was well into the hour of the Rat, and the residence had fallen
silent, apart from the distant laughter of the guards, when they heard
footsteps making the floor chirp. There was a tap on the door. Shizuka went to
it and immediately dropped to the ground. Kaede heard Lord Abe's voice.

He has come to arrest Shizuka , she
thought in terror.

Shizuka said, “It's very late,
lord. Lady Shirakawa is exhausted,” but Abe's voice was insistent. His
footsteps retreated. Shizuka turned to Kaede and just had time to whisper,
“Lord Iida wishes to visit you,” before the floor sang again.

Iida stepped into the room,
followed by Abe and the one-armed man, whose name she'd learned was Ando.

Kaede took one look at their faces,
flushed with wine and with the triumph of their revenge. She dropped to the
floor, her head pressed against the matting, her heart racing.

Iida settled himself down
cross-legged. “Sit up, Lady Shirakawa.” She raised her head unwillingly and
looked at him. He was casually dressed in nightclothes, but wore his sword in
his sash. The two men who knelt behind him were also armed. They now sat up,
too, studying Kaede with insulting curiosity.

“Forgive me for this late
intrusion,” Iida said, “but I felt the day should not end without me expressing
my regrets for your unfortunate situation.” He smiled at her, showing his big
teeth, and said over his shoulder to Shizuka, “Leave.”

Kaede's eyes widened and her breath
came sharply, but she did not dare turn her head to look at Shizuka. She heard
the door slide closed and guessed the girl would be somewhere close, on the
other side. She sat without moving, eyes cast down, waiting for Iida to
continue.

“Your marriage, which I thought was
to form an alliance with the Otori, seems to have been the excuse for vipers to
try to bite me. I think I have exterminated the nest, however.” His eyes were
fixed on her face. “You spent several weeks on the road with Otori Shigeru and
Maruyama Nakomi. Did you never suspect they were plotting against me?”

“I knew nothing, lord,” she said,
and added quietly, “If there was a plot, it could only succeed with my
ignorance.”

“Unnh,” he grunted, and after a
long pause said, “Where is the young man?”

She had not thought her heart could
beat more quickly, but it did, pounding in her temples and making her faint.
“Which young man, Lord Iida?”

“The so-called adopted son. Takeo.”

“I know nothing of him,” she
replied, as if puzzled. “Why should I?”

“What kind of a man would you say
he was?”

“He was young, very quiet. He
seemed bookish; he liked to paint and draw.” She forced herself to smile. “He
was clumsy and . . . perhaps not very brave.”

“That was Lord Abe's reading. We
know now that he was one of the Hidden. He escaped execution a year ago. Why
would Shigeru not only harbor but adopt a criminal like that, except to affront
and insult me?”

Kaede could not answer. The webs of
intrigue seemed unfathomable to her.

“Lord Abe believes the young man
fled when Ando recognized him. It seems he is a coward. We'll pick him up
sooner or later and I'll string him up next to his adopted father.” Iida's eyes
flickered over her, but she made no response. “Then my revenge on Shigeru will
be complete.” His teeth gleamed as he grinned. “However, a more pressing
question is: What is to become of you. Come closer.”

Kaede bowed and moved forward. Her
heartbeat had slowed—indeed, seemed almost to have stopped. Time slowed too.
The night became more silent. The rain was a gentle hiss. A cricket chirped.

Iida leaned forward and studied
her. The lamplight fell on his face, and when she raised her eyes she saw his
predatory features slacken with desire.

“I am torn, Lady Shirakawa. You are
irretrievably tainted by these events, yet your father has been loyal to me,
and I feel a certain responsibility towards you. What am I to do?”

“My only desire is to die,” she
replied. “Allow me to do so honorably. My father will be satisfied with that.”

“Then there is the question of the
Maruyama inheritance,” he said. “I've thought of marrying you myself. That
would deal with the problem of what happens to the domain, and would put an end
to these rumors about your dangerous effect on men.”

“The honor would be too great for
me,” she replied.

He smiled and ran one long
fingernail across his front teeth. “I know you have two sisters. I may marry
the older one. All in all, I think it is preferable if you take your own life.”

“Lord Iida.” She bowed to the
ground.

“She's quite a wonderful girl,
isn't she?” Iida said over his shoulder to the men behind him. “Beautiful,
intelligent, brave. And all to be wasted.”

She sat upright again, her face
turned away from him, determined to show nothing to him.

“I suppose you are a virgin.” He
put out a hand and touched her hair. She realized he was far more drunk than he
had appeared. She could smell the wine on his breath as he leaned towards her.
To her fury, the touch made her tremble. He saw it and laughed. “It would be a
tragedy to die a virgin. You should know at least one night of love.”

Kaede stared at him in disbelief.
She saw then all his depravity, how far he had descended into the pit of lust
and cruelty. His great power had made him arrogant and corrupt. She felt as if
she were in a dream, in which she could see what was going to happen but was
powerless to prevent it. She could not believe his intentions.

He took her head in both hands and
bent over her. She turned her face away, and his lips brushed her neck.

“No,” she said. “No, lord. Do not
shame me. Let me just die!”

“There is no shame in pleasing me,”
he said.

“I beseech you, not before these
men,” she cried, going limp as if she were surrendering to him. Her hair fell
forward, covering her.

“Leave us,” he said to them curtly.
“Let no one disturb me before dawn.”

She heard the two men leave, heard
Shizuka speak to them, wanted to cry out, but did not dare. Iida knelt beside
her, picked her up, and carried her to the mattress. He untied her girdle and
her robe fell open. Removing his sword and loosening his own garments, he lay
beside her. Her skin was crawling with fear and revulsion.

“We have all night,” he said, the
last words he spoke. The feel of his body pressing against her brought back
vividly the guard at Noguchi Castle. His mouth on hers drove her nearly mad
with disgust. She threw her arms back over her head, and he grunted in
appreciation as her body arched against his. With her left hand she found the
needle in her right sleeve. As he lowered himself onto her she drove the needle
into his eye. He gave a cry, indistinguishable from a moan of passion. Pulling
the knife from beneath the mattress with her right hand, she thrust it upwards.
His own weight as he fell forward took it into his heart.

I was soaked from the river and
from the rain, water clinging to my hair and eyelashes, dripping like the
rushes, like bamboo and willow. And although it left no mark on my dark
clothes, I was soaked, too, with blood. The mist had thickened even more. Kenji
and I moved in a phantom world, insubstantial and invisible. I found myself
wondering if I had died without knowing it and had come back as an angel of
revenge. When the night's work was done I would fade back into the netherworld.
And all the time grief was starting up its terrible chanting in my heart, but I
could not listen to it yet.

We came out of the moat and climbed
the wall. I felt the weight of Jato against my flank. It was as if I carried
Shigeru with me. I felt as if his ghost had entered me and had engraved itself
on my bones. From the top of the garden wall I heard the steps of a patrol.
Their voices were anxious; they suspected intruders, and when they saw the
ropes that Yuki had cut, they stopped, exclaiming in surprise, and peering
upwards to the iron rings where Shigeru had hung.