Across the Nightingale Floor (34 page)

“I want to fulfill his wishes, yet I
feel unworthy. And anyway, I am bound by my oath to the Tribe.”

“That could be broken, if you
wanted.”

Maybe Makoto was right. On the
other hand, maybe the Tribe would not let me live. And besides, I could not
hide it from myself: Something in me was drawn to them. I kept recalling how
I'd felt Kikuta had understood my nature, and how that nature had responded to
the dark skills of the Tribe. I was all too aware of the deep divisions within
me. I wanted to open my heart to Makoto, but to do so would mean telling him
everything, and I could not talk about being born into the Hidden to a monk who
was a follower of the Enlightened One. I thought of how I had now broken all
the commandments. I had killed many times.

While we spoke in whispers in the
darkened garden, the silence broken only by the sudden splash of a fish or the
distant hooting of owls, the feeling between us had grown more intense. Now
Makoto drew me into his embrace and held me closely. “Whatever you choose, you
must let go of your grief,” he said. “You did the best you could. Shigeru would
have been proud of you. Now you have to forgive, and be proud of, yourself.”

His affectionate words, his touch,
made the tears flow again. Beneath his hands I felt my body come back to life.
He drew me back from the abyss and made me desire to live again. Afterwards, I
slept deeply, and did not dream.

———«»———«»———«»———

Arai came with a few retainers and
twenty or so men, leaving the bulk of his army to maintain the peace in the
East. He meant to ride on and settle the borders before winter came. He had
never been patient; now he was driven. He was younger than Shigeru, about
twenty-six, in the prime of manhood, a big man with a quick temper and an iron
will. I did not want him as an enemy, and he made no secret of the fact that he
wanted me as an ally and would support me against the Otori lords. Moreover, he
had already decided that I should marry Kaede.

He had brought her with him, as
custom dictated she should visit Shigeru's grave. He thought we should both
stay at the temple while arrangements were made for the marriage. Shizuka of
course accompanied her and found an opportunity to speak privately to me.

“I knew we'd find you here,” she
said. “The Kikuta have been furious but my uncle persuaded them to give you a
little more leeway. Your time's running out, though.”

“I am ready to go to them,” I
replied.

“They will come for you tonight.”

“Does Lady Shirakawa know?”

“I have tried to warn her, and I
have tried to warn Arai.” Shizuka's voice was heavy with frustration.

For Arai had very different plans.
“You are Shigeru's legal heir,” he said as we sat in the guest room of the
temple, after he had paid his respects to the grave. “It's entirely fitting
that you marry Lady Shirakawa. We will secure Maruyama for her, and then turn
our attention to the Otori next spring. I need an ally in Hagi.” He was
scrutinizing my face. “I don't mind telling you, your reputation makes you a
desirable one.”

“Lord Arai is too generous,” I
replied. “However, there are other considerations that may prevent me from
complying with your wishes.”

“Don't be a fool,” he said shortly.
“I believe my wishes and yours mesh very well together.”

My mind had gone empty: My thoughts
had all taken flight like Sesshu's birds. I knew Shizuka would be listening
from outside. Arai had been Shigeru's ally; he had protected Kaede; now he had
conquered most of the Three Countries. If I owed anyone allegiance, it was to
him. I did not think I could just disappear without giving him some
explanation.

“Anything I achieved was with the
help of the Tribe,” I said slowly.

A flicker of anger crossed his
face, but he did not speak.

“I made a pact with them, and to
keep my side of it, I must give up the Otori name and go with them.”

“Who are the Tribe?” he exploded.
“Everywhere I turn I run into them. They are like rats in the grain store. Even
those closest to me . . . !”

“We could not have defeated Iida
without their help,” I said.

He shook his large head and sighed.
“I don't want to hear this nonsense. You were adopted by Shigeru, you are
Otori, you will marry Lady Shirakawa. That is my command.”

“Lord Arai.” I bowed to the ground,
fully aware that I could not obey him.

After visiting the grave, Kaede had
returned to the women's guest house and I had no chance to speak to her. I
longed to see her but also feared it. I was afraid of her power over me, and
mine over her. I was afraid of hurting her and, worse, of not daring to hurt
her. That night, sleepless, I went again and sat in the garden, longing for silence
but always listening. I knew I would go with Kikuta when he came for me that
night, but I could not rid my mind of the image and memory of Kaede, the sight
of her next to Iida's body, the feel of her skin against mine, her frailty as I
entered her. The idea of never feeling that again was so painful, it took the
breath from my lungs.

I heard the soft tread of a woman's
feet. Shizuka placed her hand, so like mine in shape and design, on my shoulder
and whispered, “Lady Shirakawa wishes to see you.”

“I must not,” I replied.

“They will be here before dawn,”
Shizuka said. “I have told her they will never relinquish their claim on you.
In fact, because of your disobedience in Inuyama, the master has already
decided that if you do not go with them tonight, you will die. She wants to say
good-bye.”

I followed her. Kaede was sitting
at the far end of the veranda, her figure lit dimly by the setting moon. I
thought I would recognize her outline anywhere, the shape of her head, the set
of her shoulders, the characteristic movement as she turned her face towards
me.

The moonlight glinted on her eyes,
making them like pools of black mountain water when the snow covers the land
and the world is all white and gray. I dropped on my knees before her. The
silvery wood smelled of the forest and the shrine, of sap and incense.

“Shizuka says you must leave me,
that we cannot be married.” Her voice was low and bewildered.

“The Tribe will not allow me to
lead that life. I am not—can never now be—a lord of the Otori clan.”

“But Arai will protect you. It's
what he wants. Nothing need stand in our way.”

“I made a deal with the man who is
the master of my family,” I said. “My life is his from now on.”

In that moment, in the silence of
the night, I thought of my father, who had tried to escape his blood destiny
and had been murdered for it. I did not think my sadness could be any deeper,
but this thought dredged out a new level.

Kaede said, “In eight years as a
hostage I never asked anyone for anything. Iida Sadamu ordered me to kill
myself. I did not plead with him. He was going to rape me: I did not beg for
mercy. But I am asking you now: Don't leave me. I am begging you to marry me. I
will never ask anyone for anything again.”

She threw herself to the ground
before me, her hair and her robe touching the floor with a silky hiss. I could
smell her perfume. Her hair was so close, it brushed my hands.

“I'm afraid,” she whispered. “I'm
afraid of myself. I am only safe with you.”

It was even more painful than I had
anticipated. And what made it worse was the knowledge that if we could just lie
together, skin against skin, all pain would cease.

“The Tribe will kill me,” I said
finally.

“There are worse things than death!
If they kill you, I will kill myself and follow you.” She took my hands in hers
and leaned towards me. Her eyes were burning, her hands dry and hot, the bones
as fragile as a bird's. I could feel the blood racing beneath the skin. “If we
can't live together we should die together.”

Her voice was urgent and excited.
The night air seemed suddenly chill. In songs and romances, couples died
together for love. I remembered Kenji's words to Shigeru: You are in love with
death, like all your class. Kaede was of the same class and background, but I
was not. I did not want to die. I was not yet eighteen years old.

My silence was enough answer for
her. Her eyes searched my face. “I will never love anyone but you,” she said.

It seemed we had hardly ever looked
directly at each other. Our glances had always been stolen and indirect. Now that
we were parting, we could gaze into each other's eyes, beyond modesty or shame.
I could feel her pain and her despair. I wanted to ease her suffering, but I
could not do what she asked. Out of my confusion, as I held her hands and
stared deeply into her eyes, some power came. Her gaze intensified as if she
were drowning. Then she sighed and her eyes closed. Her body swayed. Shizuka
leaped forward from the shadows and caught her as she fell. Together we lowered
her carefully to the floor. She was deeply asleep, as I had been under Kikuta's
eyes in the hidden room.

I shivered, suddenly terribly cold.

“You should not have done that,”
Shizuka whispered.

I knew my cousin was right. “I did
not mean to,” I said. “I've never done it to a human being before. Only to
dogs.”

She slapped me on the arm. “Go to
the Kikuta. Go and learn to control your skills. Maybe you'll grow up there.”

“Will she be all right?”

“I don't know about these Kikuta
things,” Shizuka said.

“I slept for twenty-four hours.”

“Presumably, whoever put you to
sleep knew what they were doing,” she retorted.

From far away down the mountain
path I could hear people approaching: two men walking quietly, but not quietly
enough for me.

“They're coming,” I said.

Shizuka knelt beside Kaede and
lifted her with her easy strength. “Good-bye, Cousin,” she said, her voice
still angry.

“Shizuka . . .” I began as she
walked towards the room. She stopped for a moment but did not turn.

“My horse, Raku—will you see Lady
Shirakawa takes him?” I had nothing else to give her.

Shizuka nodded and moved away into
the shadows, out of my sight. I heard the door slide, her tread on the matting,
the faint creak of the floor as she laid Kaede down.

I went back to my room and gathered
together my belongings.

I owned nothing, really: the letter
from Shigeru, my knife, and Jato. Then I went to the temple, where Makoto knelt
in meditation. I touched him on the shoulder, and he rose and came outside with
me.

“I'm leaving,” I whispered. “Don't
tell anyone before morning.”

“You could stay here.”

“It's not possible.”

“Come back then when you can. We
can hide you here. There are so many secret places in the mountains. No one
would ever find you.”

“Maybe I'll need that one day,” I
replied. “I want you to keep my sword for me.”

He took Jato. “Now I know you'll be
back.” He put out his hand and traced the outline of my mouth, the edge of bone
beneath my cheek, the nape of my neck.

I was lightheaded with lack of
sleep, with grief and desire. I wanted to lie down and be held by someone, but
the footsteps were crossing the gravel now.

“Who's there?” Makoto turned, the
sword ready in his hand. “Shall I rouse the temple?”

“No! These are the people I must go
with. Lord Arai must not know.”

The two of them, my former teacher
Muto Kenji and the Kikuta master, waited in the moonlight. They were in
traveling clothes, unremarkable, rather impoverished, two brothers perhaps,
scholars or unsuccessful merchants. You had to know them as I did to see the
alert stance, the hard line of muscle that spoke of their great physical
strength, the ears and eyes that missed nothing, the supreme intelligence that
made warlords like Iida and Arai seem brutal and clumsy.

I dropped to the ground before the
Kikuta master and bowed my head to the dust. “Stand up, Takeo,” he said, and to
my surprise both he and Kenji embraced me.

Makoto clasped my hands. “Farewell.
I know we'll meet again. Our lives are bound together.”

“Show me Lord Shigeru's grave,”
Kikuta said to me gently, in the way I remembered: as one who understood my
true nature.

But for you he would not be in it ,
I thought, but I did not speak it. In the peace of the night I began to accept
that it was Shigeru's fate to die the way he did, just as it was his fate now
to become a god, a hero to many people, who would come here to the shrine to
pray to him, to seek his help, for hundreds of years to come, as long as
Terayama stood—maybe forever.

We stood with bowed heads before
the newly carved stone. Who knows what Kenji and Kikuta said in their hearts? I
asked Shigeru's forgiveness, thanked him again for saving my life in Mino, and
bade him farewell. I thought I heard his voice and saw his openhearted smile.

The wind stirred the ancient
cedars; the night insects kept up their insistent music. It would always be like
this, I thought, summer after summer, winter after winter, the moon sinking
towards the west, giving the night back to the stars, and they, in an hour or
two, surrendering it to the brightness of the sun.

The sun would pass above the
mountains, pulling the shadows of the cedars after it, until it descended again
below the rim of the hills. So the world went, and humankind lived on it as
best they could, between the darkness and the light.

The main characters, Takeo and
Kaede, came into my head on my first trip to Japan in 1993. Many people have
helped me research and realize their story. I would like to thank the Asialink
Foundation, who awarded me a fellowship in 1999 to spend three months in Japan,
the Australia Council, the Department of Trade and Foreign Affairs and the
Australian Embassy in Tokyo, and ArtsSA, the South Australian Government Arts
Department. In Japan I was sponsored by Yamaguchi Prefecture's Akiyoshidai
International Arts Village whose staff gave me invaluable help in exploring the
landscape and the history of Western Honshuu. I would particularly like to
thank Mr. Kori Yoshinori, Ms. Matsunaga Yayoi, and Ms. Matsubara Manami. I am
especially grateful to Mrs. Tokorigi Masako for showing me the Sesshu paintings
and gardens and to her husband, Miki, for information on horses in the medieval
period.