The Harsh Cry of the Heron (44 page)

Since childhood she
had lived in the belief that the Muto family were unswervably loyal to the
Otori, and that the Muto controlled the loyalty of the Tribe - apart from the
Kikuta, who hated her father and sought his death. Shizuka, Kenji, Taku were
all Muto and had been her closest advisers and teachers all her life. So she
was slow to understand and accept the signs in front of her eyes.

Fewer messengers came
to the house; information was delivered so late as to be useless. The guards sniggered
behind Taku’s back about his obsession with Sada, a man-woman who had weakened
and deranged him. Maya found herself burdened with more of the household work
as the maids became lazy, even insolent. As she grew more suspicious, she
followed them to the inn and heard the tales they told there: that Taku and
Sada were sorcerers, and that they used a cat ghost in their spells.

It was in the inn
that she heard other conversations among the Muto, Kuroda and Imai: after
fifteen years of peace, during which time ordinary merchants and peasants had
enjoyed an unprecedented increase in prosperity, influence and power, the Tribe
were missing the old days, when they had controlled trade, moneylending and
commodities, and when warlords had competed for their skills.

The uncertain
allegiances that Kenji had held together by the force of his character, his
experience and his guile were beginning to fall apart, and to reform now that
Kikuta Akio had emerged from the long years of isolation.

Maya heard his name
several times in the early days of the fourth month, and each time her interest
and curiosity grew. One night, a little before the full moon, she stole away to
the inn on the riverbank; the town was even livelier than usual, for Zenko and
Hana had arrived with all their retinue, and the inn was crowded and the
atmosphere rowdy.

Maya liked to conceal
herself under the veranda, using invisibility to slip beneath it; tonight it
was too noisy to hear much even with her sharp ears, but she caught the words
Kikuta Master, and realized Akio himself was within.

She was astonished
that he would dare appear openly in Hofu, and even more amazed that so many
people who she knew to be from the Tribe not only tolerated his presence but
were seeking him out, making themselves known to him. She realized that he was
here under Zenko’s protection, and even heard Zenko referred to as the Muto
Master. She recognized it as treachery, though she did not yet know its full
extent. She had used her Tribe skills undetected all winter, and had become
arrogant about them. She felt inside her upper garment for her knife, and without
any clear idea of what she intended to do with it, took on invisibility and
went to the door of the inn.

All the doors were
wide open, catching the breeze from the south-west. Lamps burned smokily, and
the air was full of rich smells, grilled fish and rice wine, sesame oil and
ginger.

Maya scanned the
different groups; she knew immediately who Akio was, because he saw her,
penetrating her invisibility in an instant. She realized in that moment how
truly dangerous he was, how weak she was in comparison, how he would kill her
without hesitation. He leaped up from the floor and seemed to fly towards her,
releasing the weapons as he moved. She saw the glint of the knives, heard them
whistle through the air, and without thinking dropped to the ground. Everything
changed around her: she saw with the cat’s vision; she felt the texture of the
floor beneath her pads; her claws scrabbled on the boards of the veranda as she
fled back into the night.

Behind her she was
aware of the boy, of Hisao. She felt his gaze seeking her, and heard the
fragments of his voice forming into the words she had dreaded understanding.
Come to me. I have been waiting for you.

And the cat wanted
only to return to him.

Maya fled to the only
protection she knew, to Sada and Taku, rousing them from deep sleep. They tried
to calm her as she struggled to regain her true form, Sada calling her name
while Taku stared into her eyes, seeking to bring her back, fighting her
powerful gaze. Finally her limbs went limp; she seemed to sleep for a few
moments. "When her eyes opened, she was rational again, and wanted to tell
them everything.

Taku listened in
silence as she related what she had heard, noting that despite her distress her
eyes were dry, admiring her self-control.

‘So something is
linking Hisao and the cat?’ he asked finally.

‘It is he who is
calling the cat,’ she said in a low voice. ‘He is its master.’

‘Its master? Where
did you get that word from?’

‘It’s what the ghosts
say, if I let them.’

He shook his head in
something like wonder. ‘Do you know who Hisao is?’

‘He is Muto Kenji’s
grandson.’ She paused and then said without emotion, ‘My father’s son.’

‘How long have you
known this?’ Taku asked.

T heard you tell
Sada, in Maruyama last autumn,’ Maya replied.

‘The first time we
saw the cat,’ Sada whispered.

‘Hisao must be a
ghostmaster,’ Taku said, hearing Sada’s slight intake of breath, sensing the
hairs bristle at the back of his neck. ‘I thought such things existed only in
legends.’

‘What does that mean?’
Maya said.

‘It means he has the
ability to walk between the worlds, to hear the voices of the dead. The dead
will obey him. He has the power to placate them or incite them. It is far worse
than we imagined.’

Indeed, he felt for
the first time real fear for Takeo, a primitive dread of the supernatural, as
well as deep unease at the treachery Maya’s account had revealed, and anger at
his own complacence and lack of vigilance.

‘What should we do?’
Sada asked quietly. Her arms were around Maya; she held her close. Maya’s
bright tearless eyes were fixed on Taku’s face.

‘We must take Maya
away,’ he replied. ‘But first I will go to my brother, make one last demand to
him, and find out how deep his involvement with Akio is, and how much they know
about Hisao. My guess is they have not discovered his gift. No one knows about
these things in the Tribe any more: all our reports have indicated that Hisao
is believed to have no Tribe skills.’

Did Kenji know? he
found himself thinking, realizing yet again how much he missed the old Master,
and in a rare moment of self-judgement how deeply he had failed to replace him.

‘We will go to
Inuyama,’ he said. T will try to see Zenko tomorrow, but we must go anyway. We
must get Maya away.’

‘We have heard
nothing from Lord Takeo since Terada came from Hagi,’ Sada said uneasily.

‘It had not worried
me before, but now it concerns me,’ Taku replied, gripped by the sensation that
everything was beginning to unravel.

Later that night,
though he would hardly admit it to himself, let alone speak of it to Sada or to
anyone else, the conviction grew on him that Takeo was doomed, that the net was
tightening around him and there would be no escape. As he lay awake, conscious
of Sada’s long body beside him, hearing her steady breathing, watching the
night pale, he pondered what he should do. It made sense to obey his older
brother, who would take over the leadership of the Tribe - or even hand it on
to Taku himself: the Muto and Kikuta would be reconciled; he would not have to
give up Sada or his own life. All the pragmatic instincts of the Muto urged him
to follow this path. He tried to weigh in his head the probable costs. Takeo’s
life certainly. Kaede’s, possibly the children’s - maybe not Shigeko, unless
she took up arms, but Zenko would consider the twins too dangerous. If Takeo
fought it out, a few thousand Otori warriors, which did not concern him unduly.
Hiroshi. . .

It was the thought of
Hiroshi that brought him up short. As a boy he had always had a secret envy of
Hiroshi, for his straightforward warrior nature, his physical courage, his
unshakeable sense of honour and loyalty. Taku had teased him and competed with
him, always trying to impress him; had loved him more than any other human
being until he had met Sada. He knew Hiroshi would take his own life rather
than abandon Takeo and serve Zenko, and he could not bear the thought of
Hiroshi’s look when he realized Taku had defected to Zenko’s side.

What a fool my
brother is, he thought, not for the first time, resenting Zenko all the more
for placing him in this intolerable position. He drew Sada closer to him. I
never imagined I would fall in love, he thought as he woke her gently and,
though he did not know it, for the last time. I never imagined I would play the
noble warrior.

Taku sent messages
the next morning, and received an answer before midday. He was addressed with
all the usual courtesies, and invited to the Hofu residence to eat the evening
meal with Zenko and Hana. He spent the next few hours preparing for the
journey, yet not openly, for he did not want to draw attention to his
departure. He rode to the residence with four of the men who had accompanied
him from Inuyama, feeling he could trust them more than those supplied by the
Muto in Hofu.

As soon as he met his
brother, Taku noticed a change in him. Zenko had grown his moustache and beard,
but above that he showed a new confidence, a greater swagger. He noticed, too,
though he did not remark on it immediately, that Zenko wore elaborate prayer
beads round his neck, carved from ivory, similar to those worn by Don Joao and
Don Carlo, who were also present at dinner. Before the meal, Don Carlo was
asked to say a blessing, during which Zenko and Hana sat with folded hands, bowed
heads, and expressions of great piety.

Taku noticed the new
warmth between the foreigners and Zenko, the mutual flattery and attention,
heard how often the name of Deus was introduced into the conversation, and
realized with a mixture of astonishment and distaste that his brother had been
converted to the foreigners’ religion.

Been converted or
pretended to? Taku could not believe that Zenko was sincere. He had always
known him as a man with no religious beliefs and no spiritual interest - in
this respect like himself. He has seen some advantage: it must be military, he
thought, and anger began to rise in him as he thought of all that the
foreigners might bestow in the way of firearms and ships.

Zenko noticed Taku’s
growing discomfort, and when the meal was over said, ‘There are matters I must
discuss with my brother. Please excuse us for a little while. Taku, come into
the garden. It is a beautiful night: the moon is nearly full.’

Taku followed him,
every sense alert, tuning his hearing for the unfamiliar tread, the unexpected
breath. Were the assassins already concealed in the garden, and his brother
leading him within easy reach of their knives? Or their guns? And his flesh
recoiled at the thought of the weapon that brought death from afar, that not
even all his Tribe skills could detect.

Zenko said, as if
reading his thoughts, ‘There is no reason for us to be enemies. Let us not try
to kill each other.’

‘I believe you are
carrying out some intrigue against Lord Otori,’ Taku replied, masking his
anger. ‘I cannot imagine for what reason, since you have sworn allegiance to
him and owe him your life, and since these actions imperil your own family - my
mother, myself, even your sons. Why is Kikuta Akio in Hofu under your
protection, and what evil pact have you made with these people?’ He gestured
towards the residence where the conversation could be heard - like shrikes
squawking, he thought sourly.

‘There is no evil in
it,’ Zenko replied, ignoring the question about Akio. ‘I have seen the truth of
their beliefs and have chosen to follow them. That freedom is allowed
throughout the Three Countries, I believe.’

Taku saw his white
teeth in his beard as he smiled. He wanted to strike out, but controlled
himself.

‘And in return?’

‘I’m surprised that
you don’t know already, but I’m sure you can guess.’ Zenko looked at him, then
stepped closer, taking him by the arm. ‘Taku, we are brothers, and I care for
you, despite what you think. Let us speak very frankly. Takeo has no future:
why go down with him? Join me, the Tribe will be united again; I told you I was
in contact with the Kikuta. It’s no secret I’ve found Akio very reasonable, a
pleasure to deal with. He will overlook your role in Kotaro’s death: everyone
knows you were only a child. I will give you whatever you want. Takeo caused
our father’s death. Our first duty under Heaven is to avenge that.’

‘Our father deserved
his death,’ Taku replied, biting back the words, And so do you.

‘No, Takeo is an
imposter, a usurper, and a murderer. Our father was none of those things: he
was a true warrior.’

‘You look at Takeo as
if at a mirror,’ Taku said. ‘You see your own reflection. It is you who are the
usurper.’

His fingers twitched,
longing to reach for his sword, and his body tingled as he prepared to go
invisible. He was sure Zenko would try to have him killed now. He was tempted,
so strongly he was not sure he could resist, to strike the first blow, but
something restrained him: a reluctance, deeper than he had realized, to take
his brother’s life, and a memory of Takeo’s words: That brother should kill
brother is unthinkable. Your brother, like everyone else, including yourself,
my dear Taku, must be contained by law.