Brilliance of the Moon (9 page)

I went to the room. Makoto was already asleep. Kahei was talking
to two of his men who had come to keep guard. He told me he had also put two
men to watch the room where Kaede slept. I lay down, wished she were next to
me, briefly considered sending for her, then fell into the deep river of sleep.

For the next few days our march to Maruyama continued without
event. The news of Jm-emon’s death and the defeat of his bandits had gone ahead
of us and we were welcomed because of it. We moved quickly, with short nights
and long days, making the most of the favorable weather before the full onset
of the plum rains. As we traveled, Kaede tried to explain to me the political
background of the domain that was to become hers. Shigeru had already told me
something of its history, but the tangled web of marriages, adoptions, deaths,
that might have been murders, jealousy, and intrigue was mostly new to me. It
made me marvel anew at the strength of Maruyama Naomi, the woman he had loved,
who had been able to survive and rule in her own right. It made me regret her
death, and his, all the more bitterly, and strengthened my resolve to continue
their work of justice and peace.

“Lady Maruyama and I talked a little together on a journey like this,“
Kaede said. ”But we were riding in the opposite direction, toward Tsuwano, where
we met you. She told me women should hide their power and be carried in the
palanquin lest the warlords and warriors crush them. But here I am riding
beside you, on Raku, in freedom. I’ll never go in a palanquin again.“

It was a day of sun and showers, like the fox’s wedding in the
folktale. A sudden rainbow appeared against a dark gray cloud; the sun shone
bravely for a few moments; rain fell silver. Then the clouds swept across the
sky, sun and rainbow vanished, and the rain had a cold, harsh sting to it.

Lady Maruyama’s marriage had been intended to improve relations
between the Seishuu and theTohan. Her husband was from theTohan and was related
to both the Iida and the Noguchi families. He was much older than she was, had
been married before, and already had grown children. The wisdom of an alliance
through such an encumbered marriage had been questioned at the time, not least
by Naomi, who, although only sixteen, had been brought up in the Maruyama way
to think and speak for herself. However, the clan desired the alliance, and so
it was arranged. During Lady Maruyama’s life her stepchildren had caused many
problems. After her husband died they had contested the domain—unsuccessfully.
Her husband’s only daughter was the wife of a cousin of Iida Sadamu, Iida
Nariaki—who, we learned on the way, had escaped the slaughter at Inuyama and
had fled into the West, from where it seemed he now intended to make a new
claim on the domain. The Seishuu clan lords were divided. Maruyama had always
been inherited through the female line, but it was the last domain that clung
to a tradition that affronted the warrior class. Nariaki had been adopted by
his father-in-law before Lady Maruyama’s marriage, and was considered by many
to be legal heir to his wife’s property.

Naomi had been fond of her husband and grieved genuinely when he
died after four years, leaving her with a young daughter and a baby son. She
was determined her daughter would inherit her estate. Her son died
mysteriously, some said poisoned, and in the years that followed the battle of
Yaegahara, the widowed Naomi attracted the attention of Iida Sadamu himself.

“But by that time she had met Shigeru,” I said, wishing I knew
where and how. “And now you are her heir.” Kaede’s mother had been Lady
Maruyama’s cousin, and Kaede was the closest living relative to the former head
of the clan, for Lady Maruyama’s daughter Mariko had died with her mother in
the river at Inuyana.

“If I am allowed to inherit,” Kaede replied. “When her senior
retainer, Sugita Haruki, came to me late last year, he swore the Maruyama clan
would support me, but Nariaki may have already moved in.”

“Then we will drive him out.”

On the morning of the sixth day we came to the domain border.
Kahei halted his men a few hundred paces before it, and I rode forward to join
him.

“I was hoping my brother would have met us before now,” he said
quietly.

I had been hoping the same. Miyoshi Gemba had been sent to
Maruyama before my marriage to Kaede to convey the news of our imminent
arrival. But we had had heard nothing from him since. Apart from my concerns
for his safety, I would have liked some information about the situation in the
domain before we entered it, the whereabouts of Iida Nariaki, the feelings in
the town toward us.

The barrier stood at a crossroads. The guard post was silent, the
roads on all sides deserted. Amano took Jiro and they rode off to the south.
When they reappeared, Amano was shouting.

“A large army has been through: There are many hoofprints and horse
droppings.“

“Heading into the domain?” I called.

Yes!

Kahei rode closer to the guard post and shouted, “Is anyone
there? Lord Otori Takeo is bringing his wife, Lady Shirakawa Kaede, heir to
Lady Maruyama Naomi, into her domain.”

No answer came from the wooden building. A wisp of smoke rose
from an unseen hearth. I could hear no sound, other than the army behind me,
the stamping of restless horses, the breathing of a thousand men. My skin was
tinglmg. I expected at any moment to hear the hiss and clack of arrows,

I rode Shun forward to join Kahei. “Let’s take a look.” He
glanced at me, but he’d given up trying to persuade me to stay behind. We
dismounted, called to Jiro to hold the horses’ reins, and drew our swords.

The barrier itself had been thrown down and crushed in the rush
of men and horses that had trampled over it. A peculiar silence hung around the
place. A bush warbler called from the forest, its song star-tlingly loud. The
sky was partly covered with large gray clouds, but the ram had ceased again and
the breeze from the south was mild.

I could smell blood and smoke on it. As we approached the
guardhouse we saw the first of the bodies just inside the threshold. The man
had fallen across the hearth and his clothes were smoldering. They would have
burned if they had not been soaked with blood from where his belly had been
slashed open. His hand still gripped his sword, but the blade was clean. Behind
him lay two others, on their backs; their clothes were stained with their own
last evacuations, but not with blood.

“They’ve been strangled,” I said to Kahei. It chilled me, for
only the Tribe use garrotes.

He nodded, turning one over to look at the crest on his back.
“Maruyama.”

“How long since they died?” I asked, looking round the room. Two
of the men had been taken completely by surprise, the third stabbed before he
could use his sword. I felt fury rise in me, the same fury I’d felt against the
guards in Hagi when they’d let Kenji into the garden or when I’d slipped past
them—fury at the dullness of ordinary men who were so easily outwitted by the
Tribe. They’d been surprised while they’d been eating, killed by assassins
before any of them could get away to carry a warning of the invading army.

Kahei picked up the teakettle from where it had been sent flying.
“Barely warm.”

“We must catch up with them before they reach the town.”

“Let’s get moving,” Kahei said, his eyes bright with
anticipation.

But as we turned to go I caught a fresh sound, coming from a
small storeroom behind the main guard post. I made a sign to Kahei to keep silent
and went to the door. Someone was behind it, trying to hold his breath but
definitely breathing, and shivering, and letting the breath out in what was
almost a sob.

I slid the door and entered in one movement. The room was
cluttered with bales of rice, wooden boards, weapons, farming implements.

“Who’s there? Come out!”

There was a scuttling noise and a small figure burst out from
behind the bales and tried to slide between my legs. I grabbed it, saw it was a
boy of ten or eleven years, realized he held a knife, and wrenched his fingers
apart until he cried out and dropped it.

He wriggled in my grasp, trying not to sob.

“Stand still! I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Father! Father!” he called.

I pushed him in front of me into the guardroom. “Is one of these your
father?“

His face had gone white, his breath came raggedly, and there were
tears in his eyes, but he still struggled to control himself. There was no
doubt he was a warrior’s son. He looked at the man on the floor whom Kahei had
pulled from the fire, took in the terrible wound and the sightless eyes, and
nodded.

Then his face went green. I pulled him through the door so he could
vomit outside.

There’d been a little tea left in the kettle. Kahei poured it
into one of the unbroken cups and gave it to the boy to drink. “What happened?”
I said.

His teeth were chattering, but he tried to speak normally, his
voice coming out louder than he’d intended. “Two men came through the roof.
They strangled Kitano and Tsuruta. Someone else slashed the tethers and
panicked the horses. My father ran after them, and when he came back inside the
men cut him open with their knives.”

He fought back the sob. “I thought they’d gone,” he said. “I
couldn’t see them! They came out of the air and cut him open.”

“Where were you?”

“I was in the storeroom. I hid. I’m ashamed. I should have killed
them!“

Kahei grinned at the fierce little face. “You did the right
thing.

Grow up and kill them, then!“

“Describe the men to me,” I said.

“They wore dark clothes. They made no sound at all. And they did
that trick so that you could not see them.” He spat and added, “Sorcery!”

“And the army that came through?”

“Iida Nariaki of the Tohan, together with some Seishuu. I
recognized their crests.”

“How many?”

“Hundreds,” he replied. “They took a long time to go past. But
it’s not so long since the last ones rode through. I was waiting until I
thought they had all gone. I was about to come out when I heard you, so I
stayed hidden.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sugita Hiroshi, son of Hikaru.”

“You live in Maruyama?”

“Yes, my uncle Sugita Haruki is chief retainer to the Maruyama.”

“You’d better come with us,” I said. “Do you know who we are?”

“You are Otori,” he said, smiling for the first time, a wan,
feeble smile. “I can tell by your crests. I think you are the ones we have been
waiting for.”

“I am Otori Takeo and this is Miyoshi Kahei. My wife is
Shira-kawa Kaede, heir to this domain.”

He dropped to his knees. “Lord Otori. Lord Miyoshi’s brother came
to my uncle. They are preparing men because my uncle is sure Iida Nariaki will
not let Lady Shirakawa inherit without a fight. He’s right, isn’t he?”

Kahei patted him on the shoulder. “Go and say good-bye to your
father. And bring his sword. It must be yours now. When the battle is won we
will bring him to Maruyama and bury him with honor.”

This is the
upbringing I should have had
, I thought, watching
Hiroshi
come back holding the sword, which was
almost as long as he was. My mother had told me not to tear the claws off
crabs, not to hurt any living creature, but this child had been taught since
birth to have no fear of death or cruelty. I knew Kahei approved of his
courage: He had been raised in the same code. Well, if I did not have
ruthlessness by now, after my training in the Tribe, I would never get it. I
would have to pretend it.

“They drove off all our horses!” Hiroshi exclaimed as we walked
past the empty stables. He was shaking again, but with rage, I thought, not
fear.

“We’ll get them back, and more,” Kahei promised him. “You go with
Jiro, and stay out of trouble.“

“Take him back to the women and tell Manami to look after him,” I
said to Jiro as I took Shun from him and remounted.

“I don’t want to be looked after,” the boy announced when Kahei
lifted him onto the back of Jiro’s horse. “I want to go into battle with you.”

“Don’t kill anyone
by mistake with that sword,” Kahei said, laughing. “We’re your friends,
remember!”

“The attack must have come as a complete surprise,” I said to
Makoto, after telling him briefly what we’d learned. “The guardhouse was hardly
manned.“

“Or maybe the Maruyama forces were expecting it and pulled back
all their available men to ambush them or attack on more favorable ground,” he
replied. “Do you know the land between here and the town?“

“I’ve never been here.”

“Has your wife?”

I shook my head.

“Then you’d better get that boy back. He may be our only guide.”

Kahei shouted to Jiro, who had not gone far. Hiroshi was
delighted to be brought back again, and he knew a surprising amount about the
terrain and the fortification of the town. Maruyama was a hill castle; a
sizable town lay on the slopes and at the foot of the rounded hill on which the
castle was built. A small, fast-flowing river supplied the town with water and
fed a network of canals, kept well stocked with fish; the castle had its own
springs. The outer walls of the town had formerly been kept in good repair and
could be defended indefinitely, but since Lady Maruyama’s death and the
confusion that had followed Iida’s downfall, repairs had not been kept up and
guards were few. In effect, the town was divided between those who supported
Sugita and his championship of Kaede, and those who thought it more practical
to bend before the wind of fate and accept the rule of Iida Nariaki and his
wife, whose claim, they said, also had legitimacy.