Brilliance of the Moon (38 page)

Kaede said nothing, just gazed at the pine needles etched against
the sky. She was afraid of what she might reveal to Rieko. Yumi’s message had
brought her hope, but the reverse side of hope was fear: for Yumi, for Shizuka,
for herself.

“You seem changed in some way,” Rieko muttered. “You think I
can’t read you?”

“It’s true I feel a little warm,” Kaede said. “I believe the
fever has returned.”

Are they at
Hagi yet
? she thought.
Is he fighting now?
May he he protected! May he live
!

“I am going to pray for a little while,” she told Rieko, and went
to kneel before the shrine. Kumiko brought coals and Kaede lit incense. The
heavy smell drifted through the rooms, bringing an uneasy peace to the women
within.

A few days later Yumi went to fetch the food for the midday meal
and did not return. Another maid came in her place, an older woman. She and
Kumiko served the meal in silence. Kumikos eyes were red and she sniffed
miserably. When Kaede tried to find out what was wrong, Rieko snapped, “She has
caught the cold, that’s all.”

“Where is Yumi?” Kaede asked.

“You are interested in her? That proves my suspicions were
right.”

“What suspicions?” Kaede said. “What can you mean? I have no
feelings about her one way or the other. I simply wondered where she was.”

“You won’t be seeing her again,” Rieko said coldly. Kumiko made a
strangled sound as if she were muffling a sob.

Kaede felt very cold, and yet her skin was burning. She felt as
if the walls were closing in on her. By evening her head was aching fiercely;
she asked Rieko if she would send for Ishida.

When he came she was appalled at his appearance. A few days
earlier he had been merry; now his face was gaunt and drawn, his eyes like
shriveled coals, his skin gray. His manner was as calm as ever and he spoke to
her with great kindness, but it was obvious something terrible had happened.

And Rieko knew about it; Kaede was sure of that from her pursed
lips and sharp eyes. Not to be able to question the doctor was torture; not to
know what was happening in the household around her or in the world outside
would surely drive her mad. Ishida gave her tea brewed from willow bark and
bade her good night with unusual intensity. She was sure she would never see
him again. Despite the sedative, she spent a restless night.

In the morning she questioned Rieko again about Yumi’s
disappearance and Ishida’s distress. When she received no other answer than
veiled accusations, she decided she would appeal to Fujiwara himself. It was
nearly a week since she had seen him; he had stayed away during their sickness.
She could not endure the inexplicably threatening atmosphere any longer.

“Will you tell Lord Fujiwara I would like to see him?” she asked
Rieko when she had finished dressing.

The woman went herself and returned to say, “His Lordship is
delighted that his wife desires his company. He has arranged a special
entertainment for this evening. He will see you then.”

“I would like to speak to him alone,” Kaede said.

Rieko shrugged. “There are no special guests at present. Only Mamoru
will be with him. You had better bathe, and I suppose we must wash your hair so
it can be dried in the sun.“

When her hair was at last dry, Rieko insisted on oiling it
heavily before she dressed it. Kaede put on the quilted winter robes, grateful
for their warmth, for her wet hair had made her very cold, and though the day
was sunny, the air was chill. She ate a little soup at midday, but her stomach
and throat seemed to have closed against food.

“You are very white,” Rieko said. “Lord Fujiwara admires that in
a woman.” The undertone in her words made Kaede tremble. Something terrible was
about to happen—was already happening; everyone knew about it but her, and they
would reveal it to her when it pleased them. Her pulse quickened and she felt
its rapid thump in her neck, in her belly. From outside came a dull hammering
sound that seemed to echo her own heart.

She went to kneel at the shrine, but even that failed to calm
her. At the end of the afternoon Mamoru came and led her to the pavilion where
she had watched the first snow fall with Fujiwara at the beginning of the year.
Although it was not yet dark, lanterns were already lit in the bare-branched
trees, and braziers burned on the veranda. She glanced at the young man, trying
to learn something from his demeanor. He was as white as she was, and she
thought she detected pity in his eyes. Her alarm deepened.

It had been so long since she had seen any landscape that the
scene before her, the gardens and the mountains beyond, seemed unutterably
beautiful. The last rays of the sun turned the snowcapped peaks to pink and
gold, and the sky was a translucent color between blue and silver. She gazed at
it, drinking it in as if it were the last sight she would see on earth.

Mamoru wrapped a bearskin around her and murmured, “Lord Fujiwara
will be with you soon.”

Directly in front of the veranda was an area of tiny white stones
raked into a swirling pattern. Two posts had been newly erected in the center.
Kaede frowned at them; they broke the pattern of the stones in a harsh, almost
threatening way.

She heard the padding of feet, the rustling of robes.

“His Lordship is approaching,” Rieko said behind her, and they
both bowed to the ground.

Fujiwara’s particular fragrance wafted over Kaede as he sat next
to her. He did not speak for a long time, and when he finally told her she
might sit up, she thought she heard anger in his voice. Her heart quailed. She
tried to call on her courage, but she had none. She was deathly afraid.

“I am glad to see you recovered,” he said with icy politeness.

Her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. “It is thanks to
Your Lordship’s care,” she whispered.

“Rieko said you wished to speak to me.”

“I always desire Your Lordships company,” she began, but faltered
when his mouth twisted mockingly.

Let me not be
afraid
, she prayed.
If he sees I am afraid,
he will know he has broken me… He is after all only a man; he did not want me
to have even a needle. He knows what I can do. He knows I killed lida
. She drew a deep breath.

“I feel there are things going on that I do not understand. Have
I offended Your Lordship? Please tell me what I have done wrong.”

“There are things going on that I do not understand,” he replied.
“Almost a conspiracy, I would say. And in my own household. I cannot believe my
wife would stoop to such infamy, but Rieko told me of her suspicions and the
maid confirmed them before she died.”

“What suspicions?” Kaede asked, showing no emotion.

“That someone brought a message to you from Otori.”

“Rieko is lying,” Kaede said, but her voice did not obey her.

“I don’t think so. Your former companion Muto Shizuka was seen in
this district. I was surprised. If she wanted to see you, she should have
approached me. Then I remembered that Arai had used her as a spy. The maid
confirmed that Otori sent her. That was shocking enough, but imagine my
astonishment when she was discovered in Ishida’s rooms. I was devastated: Ishida,
my most trusted servant, almost my friend! How dangerous not to be able to
trust one’s physician. It would be so easy for him to poison me.“

“He is completely trustworthy,” Kaede said. “He is devoted to
you. Even if it were true that Shizuka brought a message to me from Lord Otori,
it has nothing to do with Dr. Ishida.”

He looked at her as though she had not grasped what he was
saying. “They were sleeping together,” he said. “My physician has been having
an affair with a woman known to be a spy.”

Kaede did not reply. She had not known of their relationship; she
had been too wrapped up in her own passion to notice it. Now it seemed quite
obvious. She recalled all the signs: how often Shizuka had gone to Ishida’s
rooms to collect medicine or tea. And nowTakeo had sent Shizuka with the
message for her. Shizuka and Ishida had risked seeing each other and they were
to be punished for it.

The sun had set behind the mountains, but it was not yet dark.
Twilight lay over the garden, barely dispelled by the light of the lanterns. A
crow flew overhead to its roost, cawing bitterly.

“I am very fond of Ishida,” Fujiwara said, “and I know you had
become attached to your woman. It’s a tragedy, but we must try to comfort each
other in our grief.” He clapped his hands. “Bring wine, Mamoru. And I think we
will begin our entertainment.” He leaned toward Kaede. “We don’t have to hurry:
We have all night.”

She still had not grasped his meaning. She glanced at his face,
saw the cruel set of his mouth and the skin’s pallor, the tiny muscle in his
jaw that gave him away. His eyes turned to her and she looked away to the
posts. A sudden faintness came over her; the lanterns and the white stones
began to swirl around her. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “It is not worthy of you.”

In the distance a dog was howling. It howled and howled without
ceasing.
It is Ishida’s dog
, Kaede thought,
and could almost believe it was her own heart, for it expressed utterly her
horror and despair.

“Disobedience and disloyalty to me must be punished,” he said,
“and in a way that will discourage others.”

“If they must die, make it swift,” she said. “I will do anything
you ask of me in return.”

“But you already should do that,” he said, almost puzzled. “What
else can you offer that a wife should not already do?”

“Be merciful,” she begged.

“I do not have a merciful nature,” he replied. “You have run out
of bargaining power, my dear wife. You thought you could use me for your own
purposes. Now I will use you for mine.”

Kaede heard footsteps on the gravel. She looked toward the sound
as though the power of her gaze could reach Shizuka and save her. Guards walked
slowly to the posts. They were armed with swords and they carried other
instruments whose appearance brought a metallic taste of fear to her mouth.
Most of the men were somber-faced, but one of them was grinning with nervous
excitement. Between them, Ishida and Shizuka were two small figures, weak human
bodies with an immense capacity for pain.

Neither of them made a sound as they were tied to the posts, but
Shizuka raised her head and looked at Kaede.

This cannot
happen. They will take poison
, Kaede told herself.

Fujiwara said, “I don’t think we left your woman with any way of
saving herself, but it will be interesting to see.”

Kaede had no idea what Fujiwara intended to do, what torture and
cruel death he had devised, but she had heard enough stories at Noguchi Castle to be able to imagine the worst. She realized she was on the edge of losing
control. She half rose, in itself unthinkable in Fujiwara’s presence, and tried
to plead with him, but even as the words came stumbling from her there was a
disturbance at the front gate. Guards called out briefly, and two men came into
the garden.

One was Murita, the man who had come to escort her and had then
ambushed and killed her men. He carried his sword in his left hand; his right
hand was still scarred from when she had cut it. She thought she did not know
the other, though there was something familiar about him. Both knelt before
Fujiwara, and Murita spoke.

“Lord Fujiwara, forgive me for disturbing you, but this man says
he brings an urgent message from Lord Arai.”

Kaede had sunk to the floor again, grateful for this brief
respite. She turned her eyes to the other man, noticed his big hands and long
arms, and realized with a shock that it was Kondo. He had dissembled his
features, and when he spoke, his voice was changed too. But surely Murita and
Fujiwara would know him.

“Lord Fujiwara, Lord Arai sends his greetings to you. Everything
is going according to plan.”

“Is Otori dead yet?” the nobleman asked, glancing briefly at
Kaede.

“Not yet,” the man replied. “But in the meantime Lord Arai asks
that you return Muto Shizuka to him. He has a particular personal interest in
her and wishes to keep her alive.”

For a moment Kaede felt hope flood into her heart. Fujiwara would
not dare harm Shizuka if Arai wanted her back.

“What a strange request,” Fujiwara said, “and a strange
messenger.” He ordered Murita, “Disarm him. I don’t trust him.”

The dog howled with a new intensity of fear. It seemed to Kaede
that there was a moment of stillness, and then as she tried to call out, as
Murita stepped toward Kondo, as Kondo drew his sword, the whole world groaned
and lifted. The veranda rose through the air; the trees flew and then crashed;
the house behind her shook and was torn apart. More dogs were barking now,
frantically. The caged birds shrieked in alarm. The air was full of dust. From
the fallen buildings came the screams of women and the instant crackling of
fire.

The veranda landed heavily with a thud that shook Kaede’s body;
the floor was slanting back toward the house, the roof splintering above her.
Her eyes were full of fragments of dust and straw. For a moment she thought she
was trapped, then she saw that she could climb out and began to scrabble up the
strange slope the veranda had assumed. Over its edge she saw as if in a dream
Shizuka slip her hands from the bindings, kick one of the guards between the
legs, take his sword from him, and slash him in the neck. Kondo had already
dealt Murita a blow that had almost cut him in half.