The Harsh Cry of the Heron (15 page)

Shigeko felt her
mother trembling.

‘I do love them,’
Kaede whispered. ‘But sometimes they cause me so much pain and fear that I wish
they were dead. And I have always longed for a son, I can’t pretend I have not.
The question of whom you will marry also torments me. I used to consider it the
greatest blessing of my life that I loved your father and was able to marry him.
But I have come to see that it was not without cost. I acted foolishly and
selfishly in many ways. I went against everything I had been taught from
childhood, that I had been expected and advised to do, and will probably pay
for it for the rest of my life. I would not wish you to make the same mistakes,
especially because, as we have no sons and you will inherit, the choice of your
husband has become a political matter.’

‘I have often heard
Father say he is happy that a girl -I - will inherit your realm.’

‘So he always claims.
It is to spare my feelings. All men want sons.’

Yet Father does not
seem to, Shigeko thought. But her mother’s words, their hint of regret, and the
seriousness of her tone, remained in her heart.

News of Muto Kenji’s
death took some weeks to reach Inuyama. The Kikuta were divided between the
desire to keep it secret for as long as possible while they tried to rescue the
hostages, and the temptation to boast about it to show Otori that beyond the
Three Countries he was powerless.

During Takeo and
Kaede’s rule, roads throughout the Three Countries had been improved, and
messages were carried swiftly between the great cities. But across the Eastern
border, where the High Cloud Range formed a natural barrier, lay miles of wild
country almost all the way to the free city of Akashi, the port that formed the
gateway to the Emperor’s capital of Miyako. The rumours of Muto Kenji’s death
were heard in Akashi around the beginning of the fourth month, and from there
the news travelled to Inuyama by way of a merchant who traded in the free city
and often passed on information from the East to Muto Taku.

Even though he had
expected it, Taku was both saddened and angered by his uncle’s death, feeling
the old man should have passed away peacefully in his own home, fearing that
the approach would seem like weakness to the Kikuta and would only encourage
them further, praying that Kenji’s death had been swift and not without some
meaning.

He felt he himself
should break the news to Takeo, and Sonoda and Ai agreed that he should leave
at once for Hofu, where Takeo had gone for reasons of government while Kaede
and their children had returned to Hagi for the summer.

A decision on the
fate of the hostages also had to be formally delivered by either Takeo or
Kaede. They would be executed now, presumably, but it had to be done according
to the law and not seen as an act of revenge. Taku himself had inherited Kenji’s
cynicism and was not averse to committing acts of revenge, but he respected
Takeo’s insistence on justice - or at least the appearance of justice. Kenji’s
death also affected the Tribe, as he had been its head for well over twenty
years: someone would have to be chosen from the Muto family to succeed him.
Taku’s older brother, Zenko, was the closest male relative, for Kenji had had
no children apart from his daughter, Yuki, yet Zenko had taken his father’s
name, had no Tribe skills and was now a warrior of the highest rank, head of
the Arai clan and lord of Kumamoto.

Which left Taku
himself, in many ways the obvious heir, highly talented in invisibility and the
use of the second self, trained by Kenji, trusted by Takeo. It was another
reason to travel now through the Three Countries, to meet with the Tribe
families, confirm their loyalty and support and discuss who should be the new
Master.

Furthermore he was
restless: he had been in Inuyama all winter. His wife was pleasant, his
children amused him, but domestic life bored him; he bade his family farewell
with no regrets, and despite the sad nature of his mission set out the
following day with a sense of mingled relief and anticipation, riding the horse
Takeo had given him when he was still a child: it was the son of Raku, to whom
many horse shrines were now dedicated, and had the same pale grey coat and coal
black mane and tail - the colouring most highly prized in the Three Countries.
Taku had named him Ryume.

Ryume himself had
fathered many colts, and was now old and venerable, yet Taku had never had a
horse he liked as much as this one that he had broken in himself and that had
grown up with him.

It was not a good
time to travel, the spring rains having just commenced, but the news could not
be delayed, and no one could take it but him. He rode fast, despite the bad
weather, hoping to catch Takeo before he left Hofu.

The arrival of the
kirin and the encounter with his sister had prevented Takeo from leaving for
Hagi immediately as he had wished. His nephews, Sunaomi and Chikara, were
prepared for the journey, but a heavy storm delayed their departure for a
further two days. Thus he was still in Hofu when Muto Taku came from Inuyama to
his elder brother’s house, asking to be admitted to Lord Otori’s presence
immediately. It was obvious that Taku was the bearer of bad news. He arrived
alone, late in the evening when the light had almost faded, weary and travel
stained, yet would not bathe or eat until he had spoken to Takeo.

There were no
details, only the grim fact that Muto Kenji was dead. There was no corpse to
weep over, no stone to mark the grave: the hardest of deaths to mourn, distant
and unseen. Takeo’s grief was intense, made worse by his sense of despair. Yet
he felt unable to give way to it in Zenko’s house, and unable to confide in
Taku as completely as he would have liked. He resolved to leave the next
morning for Hagi, and to ride fast. His main desire was to see Kaede, to be
with her, to find comfort with her. Yet his other concerns would not stand
aside and wait while he dealt with grief. He had to keep at least one of Zenko’s
sons with him; he would take Sunaomi -the boy would have to ride as fast as he
did - and send the younger boy with Ishida and the kirin, by boat, as soon as
the weather cleared. Taku could take care of that. And Kono? Perhaps Taku could
also stay in the West and keep an eye on him. How soon would he hear from
Fumio? Had he managed to intercept the smuggled firearms? And if he had not,
how long would it take Takeo’s enemies to match him in weaponry?

Memories of his
teacher and of the past assailed him. He mourned not only the loss of Kenji but
all its associations. He had been among Shigeru’s closest friends: one more
link had been broken.

Then there was the
question of the hostages in Inuyama. They must now be put to death, yet it must
be done legally, and he or a member of his family should be present. He would
have to write to Ai’s husband, Sonoda, send the order to him, and Ai would have
to stand in for Kaede, something his tender-hearted sister-in-law would flinch
from.

He spent most of the
night awake in the company of grief, and at first light called for Minoru and
dictated the letter to Sonoda and Ai, but before affixing his seal he spoke
again to Taku.

‘I find myself more
than usually reluctant to order the deaths of these young people. Can we turn
to any alternative?’

‘They were involved
in an assassination attempt on your own family,’ Taku replied. ‘You yourself
established the laws and the penalties. What would you do with them? To pardon
them and set them free would seem like weakness; and long imprisonment is crueller
than swift death.’

‘But will their
deaths prevent further attacks? Will they not simply enrage the Kikuta further
against me and my family?’

‘Akio’s feud against
you is already absolute. He will never relent while you remain alive,’ Taku
replied, and then added, ‘but the deaths will remove two more assassins, and
sooner or later they will run out of those willing or competent. You must
outlive them.’

‘You sound like
Kenji,’ Takeo said. ‘As realistic and pragmatic as he always was. I suppose you
will take over the leadership of the family now?’

‘I will discuss it
with my mother. And my brother, of course, for form’s sake. Zenko has few Tribe
skills and carries our father’s name, but he is still my senior in age.’

Takeo raised his
eyebrows slightly. He had preferred to leave the handling of Tribe matters to
Kenji and Taku, trusting Kenji completely. He was uneasy at the idea of Zenko
sharing in some of their secrets.

‘Your brother has
approached me with the proposition to adopt one of his sons,’ he said, allowing
a note of surprise to enter his voice, which he knew Taku would not miss. ‘Sunaomi
will accompany me to Hagi. I’ll leave within the hour. But there are many
things we must discuss first. Let’s walk in the garden.’

‘Lord Otori,’ Minoru
reminded him. ‘Will you finish this letter first?’

‘No, bring it with
us. I will discuss the matter further with my wife before I come to a decision.
We will send it from Hagi.’

The early light was
grey, the morning damp and humid, with more rain threatening. The journey would
be wet and uncomfortable. Takeo could already anticipate how the ache in his
old injuries would be made worse by the days on horseback. He was aware that
Zenko was probably watching him, resenting his closeness to Taku, knowing he
would be confiding in his brother. The reminder that Zenko was also Muto by
birth, and related, like Taku, to the Kikuta, had put him on his guard. He
hoped it was true that Zenko’s Tribe skills were negligible, and spoke quietly,
telling Taku briefly about Lord Kono’s message, as well as the smuggled
weapons.

Taku absorbed all
this information in silence; his only comment was, ‘Your trust in my brother
has been eroded, I imagine.’

‘He has renewed his
oaths to me, but we all know oaths mean nothing in the face of ambition and the
lust for power. Your brother has always blamed me for your father’s death - and
now it seems the Emperor and his court do too. I do not trust either your
brother or his wife, but while their sons are in my care I think their
ambitions can be contained. They must be contained: the alternatives are that
we fall again into civil war or I must order your brother to take his own life.
I will avoid this for as long as I can. But I must ask you to be more than
usually discreet, and to disclose nothing that might advantage him.’

Taku’s habitual
expression of amused cynicism had darkened.

‘I would kill him
myself if he were to betray you,’ he said.

‘No!’ Takeo replied
swiftly. ‘That brother should kill brother is unthinkable. Those days of blood
feuds are over. Your brother, like everyone else - including yourself, my dear
Taku - must be contained by law.’ He paused for a moment and then said quietly,
‘But tell me: did Kenji ever speak to you about the prophecy that was given to
me, that I am safe from death, except at the hands of my son?’

‘Yes, after one of
the attempts on your life, he remarked the prophecy might be true after all -
he was not usually credulous about prophecies and signs. He told me then what
had been spoken about you. He said it partly to explain your constant
fearlessness, and why the threat of attack did not paralyse you or make you
ferociously cruel, as it would most men.’

‘I am not credulous
either,’ Takeo replied, smiling ruefully. ‘And sometimes I believe in the truth
of the words, and sometimes I don’t. It has suited me to believe because it has
given me time to achieve everything I wanted, without living in fear. However,
the boy is sixteen years old now, easily old enough, in the Tribe, to take
life. So now I find myself trapped: can I cease to believe when it no longer
suits me?’

‘It would be easy
enough to get rid of the boy,’ Taku offered.

‘Taku, you have
learned nothing from all my efforts! Those days of secret assassination are
over. I could not take your brother’s life when my knife was at his throat in
the heat of battle. I could never order the death of my own son.’

After a moment Takeo
went on, ‘Who else knows of this prophecy?’

‘On the occasion
Kenji told me, Dr Ishida was present. He had been treating your wound, and
trying to control the fever. Kenji spoke as much to reassure him that you might
not be at the point of death, for Ishida had given up all hope.’

‘Zenko does not know?’

‘He knows of the
existence of your son - he was in the Muto village when news came of Yuki’s
death. Everyone talked about little else for weeks. But I don’t think Kenji
spoke of the prophecy on any other occasion save the one I have just told you
about.’

‘Then let it remain a
secret between us,’ Takeo said.

The younger man
nodded. ‘I will stay here with them, as you suggest,’ he said. ‘Watch closely,
make sure Chikara leaves with Ishida, and maybe discover more of his parents’
true intentions.’

As they parted, Taku
said, ‘Just one more thought. If you do adopt Sunaomi, and he becomes your son
. . .’

‘That is when I
definitely choose not to believe!’ Takeo replied, assuming a lightness he did
not feel.

Takeo set out around
the Hour of the Snake: the rain held off, but towards evening it began to fall
heavily. Sunaomi was quiet, eager to behave correctly and with courage yet
clearly apprehensive about leaving his parents and family. Two of Zenko’s
retainers came with him to take care of him, while Takeo was accompanied by Jun
and Shin, as well as a band of about twenty warriors and Minoru. They stayed
the first night in a small village, where several inns had been established in
these years of prosperity now that merchants and their goods travelled
frequently between Hofu and Hagi. The road was kept in good repair, gravelled
or paved for its entire length; each small town was guarded, and travel had
become safe and swift. Despite the rain, they came to the confluence of the
rivers on the evening of the third day, and were met by Miyoshi Kahei, who had
already been alerted by messengers that Lord Otori was travelling north.