Brilliance of the Moon (37 page)

BOOK: Brilliance of the Moon
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Lamps burned day and night before the shrine, and often Kaede lit
incense and let its heavy fragrance fill her nostrils and permeate the air
around her. A small bell hung from a frame, and from time to time she would
feel the impulse to strike it sharply. The clear note echoed through her rooms
and the maids exchanged glances, careful not to let Rieko see them. They knew
something of Kaede’s history, pitied her, and increasingly admired her.

One of these girls in particular interested Kaede. She knew from
the records that she had copied for Takeo that several Tribe members were
employed in Fujiwara’s household, almost certainly unknown to him. Two men, one
of them the estate steward, were paid from the capital; presumably they were
spies placed there to report back to the court on the exiled nobleman’s
activities. There were two servants in the kitchen who sold snippets of
information to whoever would pay them, and another woman, a maid, whom Kaede
had tentatively identified as this girl.

She had little to go on beyond the fact that there was something
indefinable about her that reminded her of Shizuka and that the girl’s hands
were similar in shape. Kaede had not missed Shizuka when they had first
separated; her life had been completely taken up with Takeo. But now, in the
company of women, she missed her acutely. She longed to hear her voice and
yearned for her cheerfulness and courage.

Above all, she longed for news. The girl’s name was Yumi. If
anyone knew what was happening in the outside world, it would be one of the
Tribe, but Kaede was never alone with her and was afraid to approach her even
indirectly. At first she thought the girl might have been sent to assassinate
her, for some motive of revenge or to punish Takeo, and she watched her without
seeming to, not out of fear but rather with a sort of curiosity: how it would
be done, what it would feel like, and if her first response would be relief or
regret.

She knew the sentence of death the Tribe had passed on Takeo,
made more stringent by the rigors with which he had pursued them in Maruyama.
She did not expect any sympathy or support from them. And yet there was
something in the girl’s demeanor that suggested she was not hostile to Kaede.

As the days grew shorter and cooler, winter garments were brought
out and aired, summer ones washed, folded, and put away. For two weeks Kaede
wore the in-between season robes and found herself grateful for their extra
warmth. Rieko and the maids sewed and embroidered, but Kaede was not allowed to
take part. She did not particularly like sewing—she had had to struggle with
her left-handedness to become deft at it—but it would have helped fill the
empty days. The colors of the thread appealed to her, and she was enchanted by
the way a flower or bird came alive against the heavy silk fabric. She gathered
from Rieko that Lord Fujiwara had ordered all needles, scissors, and knives to
be kept from her. Even mirrors had to be brought to her only by Rieko. Kaede
thought of the tiny needle-size weapon Shizuka had fashioned for her and hidden
in her sleeve hem and the use she had put it to at Inuyama. Did Fujiwara really
fear that she might do the same to him?

Rieko never let Kaede out of her sight, except when Fujiwara paid
his daily visit. She accompanied her to the bathhouse and even to the privy,
where she held the heavy robes aside and afterward washed Kaede’s hands for her
at the cistern. When Kaede’s bleeding began, Fujiwara ceased his visits until
she had been purified at the end of the week.

Time went past. The plum tree was bare. One morning the moss and
the pine needles had a glimmer of frost. The onset of the cold weather brought
a wave of sickness. First Kaede caught a cold; her head ached and her throat
felt as if she had swallowed needles. The fever brought disturbing dreams, but
after a few days she recovered, apart from a cough that troubled her at night.
Ishida gave her willow bark and valerian. By that time Rieko had caught the
cold; it seemed to have increased in virulence, and the older woman was far
more ill than Kaede had been.

On the third evening of Rieko’s illness there came a series of
small earth tremors. These and the fever sent Rieko into a state of panic. She
became almost uncontrollable. Alarmed, Kaede sent Yumi to fetch Ishida.

Night had fallen by the time he arrived; a silver three-quarter
moon hung in an intensely black sky, and the stars were icy points of light.

Ishida told Yumi to bring hot water and he brewed a strong draft and
had the sick woman drink it. Gradually her writhing lessened and her sobs
quietened.

“She’ll sleep for a while,” he said. “Yumi may give her another
dose if the panic returns.”

As he spoke the ground shook again. Through the open door Kaede
saw the moon quiver as the floor beneath her lifted and subsided. The other
maid gave a squeal of fright and ran outside.

“The ground has been shaking all day,” Kaede said. “Is it a
warning to us of a severe earthquake?”

“Who knows?” Ishida replied. “You had better extinguish the lamps
before you go to bed. I’ll go home and see what my dog is doing.”

“Your dog?”

“If he’s asleep under the veranda, there’ll be no big quake. But
if he’s howling, I’ll start getting worried.”

Ishida chuckled and Kaede realized it had been a long time since
she’d seen him in such a good mood. He was a quiet, self-contained,
conscientious man guided by his duty to Fujiwara and his calling as a doctor,
but she felt something had happened to him that night to penetrate his calm
exterior.

He left them, and Yumi followed Kaede into the sleeping room to
help her undress.

“The doctor seems cheerful tonight,” Kaede remarked. It was so
pleasant not to have Rieko listening to her every word that she felt like talking
just for the sake of it. The robe slid from her shoulders, and as Yumi lifted
her hair to free it, Kaede felt her breath against her ear and heard her
whisper.

“That’s because Muto Shizuka came to see him.” Kaede felt the
blood drain from her head. The room seemed to whirl around her, not from an
earth tremor but from her own weakness. Yumi held her to support her and
lowered her onto the sleeping mat. She brought out the night robe and helped
Kaede put it on.

“My lady must not get cold and fall sick again,” she murmured,
taking up the comb to attend to Kaede’s hair. “What is the news?” Kaede said
quietly.

“The Muto have made a truce with Lord Otori. The Muto master is
with him now.”

Just hearing his name spoken made Kaede’s heart bound so
strongly, she thought she would vomit. “Where is he?”

“At the coast, at Shuho. He surrendered to Lord Arai.” She could
not imagine what had been happening to him. “Will he be safe?“

“He and Arai formed an alliance. They will attack Hagi together.”

“Another battle,”
Kaede murmured. A storm of emotion raced through her, making her eyes grow hot.
“And my sisters?”

“They are well. A marriage has been arranged for Lady Ai, to Lord
Akita’s nephew. Please don’t cry, lady. No one must ever find out that you know
these things. My life depends on it. Shizuka swore to me that you would be able
to conceal your feelings.”

Kaede fought to keep the tears from falling. “My younger sister?”

“Arai wanted to
betroth her to Lord Otori, but he says he will not consider marriage until he
has taken Hagi.”

It was as if a hidden needle had slipped into her heart. It had
not occurred to her, but of course Takeo would marry again. His marriage to her
had been annulled; he would be expected to take another wife. Hana was an
obvious choice, sealing the alliance with Fujiwara, giving Arai another link to
the Maruyama and Shirakawa domains.

“Hana is only a child,” she said dully as the comb raked through
her hair. Had Takeo forgotten her already? Would he happily accept her sister
who looked so much like her? The jealousy that had racked her when she imagined
Makoto with him now returned a thousandfold. Her isolation, her imprisonment,
struck her with renewed force
.
The day I
hear he is married I will die, if I have to bite out my own tongue
, she
swore silently.

“You may be sure Lord Otori has his own plans,” Yumi whispered.
“After all, he was riding to rescue you when Arai intercepted him and drove him
back to the coast. Only the typhoon prevented his escape then.”

“He was coming to rescue me?” Kaede said. The jealousy abated a
little, washed away by gratitude and a faint glimmer of hope.

“As soon as he heard of your abduction he set out with over a
thousand men.” Kaede could feel Yumi trembling. “He sent Shizuka to tell you he
loves you and will never give you up. Be patient. He will come for you.”

A sound came from the next room, a sort of feverish cry. Both
women went still.

“Come with me to the privy,” Kaede said, as calmly as if she had
said no other words all evening beyond “Hold my robe” and “Comb my hair.” She
was all too aware of the risks Yumi took by bringing her this message, and
feared for her safety.

Yumi took a warm cloak and wrapped it round her. They stepped
silently onto the veranda. It was colder than ever.

“It will freeze tonight,” the girl remarked. “Shall I order more
charcoal for the braziers?”

Kaede listened. The night was still. There was no wind and no dog
howling. “Yes, let’s try to stay warm.”

At the entrance to the privy she slipped the fur robe from her
shoulders and gave it to Yumi to hold. Squatting in the dark recess where no
one could see her, she let herself feel joy. The words were beating in her
brain, the words the goddess herself had spoken to her:

Be patient. He
will come for you.

The following day Rieko was a little better; she rose and dressed
at her usual time, even though Kaede begged her to rest longer. The autumn wind
blew more coldly from the mountain, but Kaede felt a warmth she had not known
since her capture. She tried not to think about Takeo, but Yumi’s whispered
message had brought his image intensely to the forefront of her mind. The words
he had sent to her beat so loudly inside her head, she was sure someone would
hear them. She was terrified of giving herself away. She did not speak to Yumi
or even look at her, but she was aware of a new feeling between them, a kind of
complicity. Surely, Rieko with her cormorant eyes could not miss it?

Sickness made Rieko short-tempered and more malicious than ever.
She found fault with everything, complained about the food, sent for three
different types of tea and found all of them musty, slapped Yumi for not
bringing hot water fast enough, and reduced the second maid, Kumiko, to tears
when she expressed her fear of earthquakes.

Kumiko was normally lighthearted and cheerful, and Rieko allowed
her a certain leeway that the other maids would never have enjoyed. But this
morning she sneered at her, laughing in contempt at the girl’s fears, ignoring
the fact that she herself shared them.

Kaede retreated from the unpleasant atmosphere and went to sit in
her favorite place, looking out over the tiny garden. The sun was just barely
shining into the room, but in a few weeks it would no longer clear the outer
walls. Winter would be gloomy in these rooms— but surely he would come for her
before winter?

She could not see the mountains, but she imagined them soaring
into the blue autumn sky. They would be snowcapped by now. A bird settled
suddenly on the pine tree, chirped loudly, and then flew away again over the
roof, a flash of green and white in its wings. It reminded her of the bird
Takeo had painted so long ago. Could it be a message for her—a message that she
would soon be free?

The women’s voices rose behind her. Kumiko was crying: “I can’t
help it. If the house starts to shake, I have to run outside. I can’t bear it.”

“So that’s what you did last night! You left Her Ladyship on her
own, while I was asleep?”

“Yumi was with her all the time,” Kumiko answered, weeping.

“Lord Fujiwara’s orders were that there must always be two of us
with her!” The sound of another slap echoed through the room.

Kaede thought of the bird’s flight, the woman’s tears. Her own
eyes grew hot. She heard footsteps and knew Rieko stood behind her, but she did
not turn her head.

“So Lady Fujiwara was alone with Yumi last night. I heard you
whispering. What were you talking about?”

“We whispered only so as not to disturb you,” Kaede replied. “We
spoke of nothing; the autumn wind, the brilliance of the moon, perhaps. I asked
her to comb my hair, accompany me to the privy.”

Rieko knelt beside her and tried to look into her face. Her heavy
scent made Kaede cough.

“Don’t bother me,” Kaede said, turning away. “We are both unwell.
Let us try to spend a peaceful day.”

“How ungrateful you are,” Rieko said in a voice as tiny as a
mosquito’s. “And what a fool. Lord Fujiwara has done everything for you and you
still dream of deceiving him.”

“You must be feverish,” Kaede said. “You are imagining things.
How could I deceive Lord Fujiwara in any way? I am completely his prisoner.”

“His
wife
,” Rieko corrected
her. “Even to use such a word as
prisoner
shows how you still rebel against your husband.”

BOOK: Brilliance of the Moon
9.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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