Brilliance of the Moon (21 page)

Kaede said, “I must ask the goddess to protect these treasures
for me. Unless I myself come for them, they must stay here with her forever.”

The old woman nodded and bowed. Behind the rock a cave had been
hollowed out, well above the highest level of the river. They climbed up to it
and placed the chests in it. Kaede noticed that it contained many other objects
that had been given to the goddess. She wondered about their history and what
had happened to the women who had placed them there. There was a damp, ancient
smell. Some of the objects were decaying; some had already rotted. Would the
records of the Tribe rot away there, hidden under the mountain?

The air was cold and clammy, making her shiver. When she put the
chest down, her arms felt suddenly empty and light. She was seized by the
knowledge that the goddess knew her need—that her empty arms, her empty womb,
would be filled.

She knelt before the rock and scooped up water from the pool that
had gathered at its base. As she drank she prayed almost wordlessly. The water
was as soft as milk.

The old woman, kneeling behind her, began to chant a prayer so
ancient that Kaede did not recognize the words, but its meaning washed over her
and mingled with her own longing. The rock shape had no eyes, no features, yet
she felt the benign gaze of the goddess upon her. She remembered the vision she
had had at Terayama and the words that had been spoken to her:
Be
patient; he will come for you
.

She heard the words clearly again, and for a moment they puzzled
her. Then she understood them to mean he would come back.
Of
course he will. I will be patient
, she vowed again.
As soon as my sisters are here, we
will go to Maruyama at once. And when Takeo returns, I will conceive a child. I
was right to come here
.

She felt so strengthened by the visit to the caves that at the
end of the afternoon she went to the family temple to pay her respects to her
father’s tomb. Hiroshi came with her, as did one of the women of the house,
Ayako, who carried offerings of fruit and rice and a bowl of smoking incense.

His ashes lay buried among the graves of her ancestors, the
Shira-kawa lords. Beneath the huge cedars it was gloomy and cool. The wind
soughed in the branches, carrying the
min-min
of cicadas. Over the years earthquakes had shifted the columns
and pillars, and the ground heaved upward as if the dead were trying to escape.

Her fathers grave was still intact. Kaede took the offerings from
Ayako and placed them in front of the stone. She clapped her hands and bowed
her head. She dreaded hearing or seeing his spirit; yet she wanted to placate
it. She could not think calmly about his death. He had wanted to die but had
been unable to find the courage to kill himself. Shizuka and Kondo had killed
him: Did that constitute murder? She was aware, too, of the part she had
played, the shame she had brought on him; would his spirit now demand some
payment?

She took the bowl of smoldering incense from Ayako and let the smoke
waft over the tomb and over her own face and hands to purify her. She put the
bowl down and clapped again three times. The wind dropped, the crickets fell
silent, and in that moment she felt the earth tremble slightly beneath her. The
landscape quivered. The trees shook.

“An earthquake!” Hiroshi exclaimed behind her as Ayako gave a cry
of fear.

It was only a small tremor, and no more followed, but Ayako was
nervous and jittery on the way home.

“Your fathers spirit spoke to you,” she murmured to Kaede. “What
did he say?”

“He approves of everything I have done,” she replied with a
confidence she was far from feeling. In fact the tremor had shocked her. She
feared her father’s angry, embittered ghost and felt it attacked all she had
experienced in the sacred caves at the goddess’s feet.

“May heaven be praised,” Ayako said, but her lips tightened and
she continued to give Kaede anxious glances all evening.

“By the way,” Kaede asked her as they ate together, “where is the
young man Sunoda, Akita’s nephew?” This young man had come with his uncle the
previous winter, and she had made him remain in her household as a hostage, in
Shoji’s care. She was beginning to think she might have need of him now.

“He was allowed to return to Inuyama,” Ayako said.

“What?” Shoji had relinquished her hostage? She could not believe
the extent of his treachery.

“His father was said to be ill,” Ayako explained.

So her hostage was gone, diminishing her power further.

It was already dusk before she heard Shoji’s voice outside.
Hiroshi had gone with Amano to his house to meet his family and sleep there,
and Kaede had been waiting in her father’s room, going through the records of
the estate. She could see many signs of mismanagement, and when it was obvious
Shoji had returned alone, her rage against her father’s senior retainer grew
even more fierce.

When he came to her Ayako followed him, bringing tea, but Kaede
was too impatient to drink it.

“Where are my sisters?” she demanded.

He drank the tea gratefully before replying. He looked hot and
tired. “Lord Fujiwara is glad of your return,” he said. “He sends you his
greetings and asks that you will call on him tomorrow. He will send his
palanquin and an escort.”

“I have no intention of calling on him,” she retorted, trying not
to lose her temper. “I expect my sisters to be returned to me tomorrow, and
after that we will leave for Maruyama as soon as possible.”

“I am afraid your
sisters are not there,” he said. Her heart plunged to her belly. “Where are
they?”

“Lord Fujiwara
says Lady Shirakawa is not to be alarmed. They are perfectly safe and he will
tell her where they are when she visits him tomorrow.”

“You dare to bring me such a message?” Her voice sounded thin and
unconvincing to her own ears.

Shoji inclined his head. “It gives me no pleasure. But Lord
Fujiwara is who he is; I cannot defy or disobey him, nor, I believe, can you.”

“They are hostages, then?” she said in a low voice.

He did not answer directly but merely said, “I’ll give orders for
your journey tomorrow. Shall I accompany you?”

“No!” she cried. “And if I am to go, I will ride. I will not wait
for his palanquin. Tell Amano I will ride my gray and he is to come with me.”

For a moment she thought he would argue with her, but then he
bowed deeply and acquiesced.

After he had gone, her thoughts were in turmoil. If she could not
trust Shoji, whom of the domain’s men could she trust? Were they trying to trap
her? Surely even Fujiwara would not dare. She was married now. At one moment
she thought she should return immediately to Maruyama; the next she realized Ai
and Hana were in someone else’s possession and she understood what it meant to
have hostages held against her.

So must my
mother and Lady Naomi have suffered
, she thought.
I
must go to Fujiwara and bargain with him for them. He has helped me before. He
will not turn completely against me now
.

Next she began to worry about what to do with Hiroshi. It had
seemed like the safest of journeys; yet she could not help feeling that she had
brought him into danger. Should he ride with her to Lord Fujiwara’s or should
she send him home as quickly as possible?

She rose early and sent for Amano. She dressed in the simple
traveling clothes she had worn on the journey, even though she could hear
Shizuka’s voice in her head:
You can’t appear before
Lord Fujiwara on horse
back like a warrior
.
Her own better judgment told her to delay a few days, to send messages and
gifts and then to travel in his palanquin with his escort, dressed perfectly
for him, presented like the flawless treasures he prized. Shizuka, even Manami,
would have advised her so. But her impatience was too great. She knew she would
never endure the waiting and the inactivity. She would meet Lord Fujiwara once
more, would find out where her sisters were and what he wanted, and would then
go immediately back to Maruyama, back to Takeo.

When Amano came she sent the women away so she could speak
privately with him, and quickly explained the situation.

“I have to go to Lord Fujiwara’s, but to tell you the truth I am
anxious about his intentions. We may need to leave quickly and return to
Maruyama at speed. Be ready for it, and make sure the men and horses are
prepared.”

His eyes narrowed. “There will be no fighting, surely?”

“I don’t know. I am afraid they will try to detain me.”

“Against your will? It’s impossible!”

“It’s unlikely, I know, but I am uneasy. Why were my sisters
taken away if not to force me in some way?”

“We should leave at once,” he said, young enough not to be cowed
by the nobleman’s rank. “Let your husband talk to Lord Fujiwara with the
sword.“

“I am afraid of what will be done to my sisters. I must at least
find out where they are. Shoji says we cannot defy Fujiwara, and I suppose he
is right. I will have to go and speak with him. But I will not go into the
house. Do not let them take me inside.”

Amano bowed. Kaede went on: “Should Hiroshi be sent home? I wish
I had not brought him; I have the burden of his safety on me now too.“

“There is safety in numbers,” Amano said. “He should stay with
us. And anyway, if there is to be trouble, we can ill spare the men to escort
him back. I will die before any harm comes to him or you.”

She smiled, grateful for his loyalty, “Then let us leave with no more
delay.“

The weather had changed again. The clarity and coolness of the
last few days had given way to a renewed oppressiveness. It was humid and
still, the sort of day that heralded the typhoons of late summer. The horses
were sweating and restless, Hiroshi’s roan more unsettled than ever.

Kaede wanted to talk to Hiroshi, to warn him of the possible
dangers that lay ahead, to make him promise not to get involved in any
fighting; but the horse was too fidgety, and Amano made the boy ride in front
with him, lest the roan upset Raku as well. She could feel the sweat running
down inside her clothes. She hoped she would not arrive red in the face and
soaked. She was already half regretting the rashness of her decision. But, as
always, riding made her feel more powerful. She had made the journey only in
the palanquin before, never able to look out on the landscape from behind the
silk curtains and oiled paper screens that had enclosed her. Now she was able
to absorb the beauty of the scenery, the richness of farmland and forest, the
grandeur of the distant mountains, range after range, each slightly paler than
the one in front, fading until they merged into the sky.

No wonder Lord Fujiwara did not want to leave this beautiful
place. His image, seductive and intriguing, rose before her eyes. She
remembered how he had always seemed to like and admire her. She could not
believe he would harm her. But her senses were heightened with some apprehension.
Is this how it feels to ride into battle
,
she wondered,
life never seeming more beautiful nor more fleeting,
to be grasped and flung away in one and the same breath
?

She put her hand on the sword in her belt, reassured by the feel
of the hilt.

They were only a few miles from the gates of Fujiwara’s residence
when they saw dust on the road ahead, and out of the haze trotted the palanquin
bearers and horsemen sent by the nobleman to fetch her. Their leader spotted
the silver river crest on Amano’s surcoat and drew rein to greet him. His gaze
swept over Kaede and then his neck muscles corded as his eyes snapped back to
her in astonishment.

“Lady Shirakawa,” he gasped, and shouted to the bearers, “Down!
Down!”

They dropped the palanquin and knelt in the dust. The horsemen
dismounted and stood with bowed heads. They appeared submissive, but she saw
immediately that they outnumbered her men two to one.

“I am on my way to visit His Lordship,” she said. She recognized
the retainer but could not recall his name. He was the man who had always come
to escort her to Lord Fujiwara’s in the past.

“I am Murita,” he said. “Would Lady Shirakawa not prefer to be carried?“

“I will ride,” she said shortly. “We are so close now.” His lips
were compressed into a thin line.
He disapproves
, she thought, and glanced at Amano and Hiroshi, who were now
alongside her. Amano’s face gave nothing away, but there was a flush of blood
beneath Hiroshi’s skin.

Are they
embarrassed for me? Am I shaming myself and them
?
Kaede
straightened her back and urged Raku forward.

Murita sent two of his men ahead, increasing her sense of unease
about the reception that awaited them, but she could think of nothing to do but
ride onward.

The horses felt her anxiety. Raku sidestepped a little, ears
pricked, eyes rolling, and Hiroshi’s horse threw its head in the air and tried
to buck. The boy’s knuckles were white on the reins as he brought it under
control.