Cloud of Sparrows (30 page)

Shigeru said, “Nevertheless, as a precaution, we should loop farther north, and turn west just south of Mushindo Monastery. It will add two days to the journey, but it will also put us on a path less prone to interception.”

Hidé and Heiko rejoined them. Hidé said, “The shelters are ready, my lord.”

“Thank you. I will stand the first watch, Shigeru the second, and you the third.”

Hidé said, “There is no need for you to do such menial duty, my lord.”

“There are only three of us. If I do not bear my share, in short order you and Shigeru will be too tired to be of any use. I will stand the first watch.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Heiko smiled at Genji.

“Something amuses you?”

“An idle thought, nothing more.”

“And what is the idle thought?”

“We are proceeding farther north?”

“Yes, for two more days. Why?”

“Is not the renowned impregnable fortress of the Mukai family to the north?”

Genji reached for her, but he was not fast enough. With a giggle, she slipped away.

“Come back.”

“Patience, my lord.”

Heiko stopped a short distance away from the outsiders and bowed. “Emily, Matthew.” She gestured at one of the lean-tos she and Hidé had erected. “We are to stop here for the night. Please try to get some rest. After tonight, we may not have such leisure until we reach Lord Genji’s castle.”

“Thank you, Heiko,” Emily said.

Emily was put to bed under several layers of blankets. Stark and Heiko sat with her until, at last, she fell asleep. When Heiko rose, Stark stopped her.

“Who were those men?”

Heiko searched her memory for the right word. “Outlaws.”

“Why did they run away instead of attacking?”

“They recognized Lord Shigeru.”

“There were two dozen of them, against four men on our side.”

“Yes,” Heiko said. “They were too few and knew it. So they ran.”

Stark was sure Heiko didn’t understand his questions. The answers she gave made no sense. Nowhere in the world do two dozen men run from four. “Why did those two kill themselves?”

“They were apologizing for their harsh words.”

“Apologizing. By stabbing themselves with their own swords?”

“Yes.”

“What did they say that required such an action?”

“Disrespectful things,” Heiko said, “which would be disrespectful for me to repeat.” She bowed. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Heiko.”

Stark didn’t fall asleep until near dawn. He heard Heiko giggling. Later, the warlord’s uncle woke and disappeared into the woods. Several hours later, he returned and Hidé assumed the watch. Stark wanted to offer his services, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to insult someone inadvertently and have to apologize with his life. He had to live until Ethan Cruz was dead.

“You don’t really believe what you said about Mukai?”

“I do. The way he looked at you. The way he said ‘My lord.’ And so often. ‘My lord.’ At every opportunity, as if by saying it, he possessed you.”

“Mukai’s ancestors fought beside mine at Sekigahara. That is the only reason for his allegiance.”

“If you believe that, you are as gullible as a pubescent farm girl.”

“A sparrow sword guard has been in his family for generations.”

“According to him. He could have purchased it at any pawnshop. Sekigahara is his excuse, not his reason. Love always finds a way.”

“Ridiculous. And not amusing. Stop laughing.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t laugh. I should be angry.”

“What reason do you have for being angry?”

“Because you are considered more beautiful than I. By some, at least.”

“Mukai is not in love with me.”

“One day, when you are living a pampered existence in his castle high above the swirling northern sea, you will know otherwise.”

“The world has not deteriorated to that extent. Nor will it in my lifetime.”

“Is that prophecy, my lord?”

That night and the following morning, a heavy snowfall blanketed the Kanto Plain. From his office in Edo Castle, Mukai watched the world turn white. Genji was somewhere out there, a hunted fugitive. His heart ached when he thought of how the young lord must be suffering in the harsh weather.

He had tried to get the assignment to intercept Genji, but Kawakami had taken it upon himself. So he was stuck here in Edo, helpless to give aid to the one he loved more than life itself. Could any fate be crueler?

He looked at the sword guard in his hand. Sparrows flitting above the waves. It was when he had seen it in Seami’s shop that he had realized the truth of his feelings for Genji. Until then, he had not understood the source of the lingering malaise that had plagued him since the previous spring. He had attributed it to the unease everyone felt at the increasing presence of outsiders in Japan. In fact, spring was when he had first seen Genji.

“There is the next Great Lord of Akaoka,” Kawakami had said, pointing him out at a gathering before the Shogun. “When the old man dies, the line is finished.”

Mukai saw a youth whose incredible beauty left him speechless. He knew he should express agreement with Kawakami, but his mouth would not form the words.

That would have been that. Nothing further would have occurred. But that very evening, listening to a discussion about the poisonous values of the outsiders, his life began to come into focus for the very first time.

“Happiness is the main goal of outsiders,” Kawakami said.

“That is hard to believe,” Lord Noda said. “No society based on such a shallow, self-centered concept can survive beyond a few generations, at best.”

“I don’t know how long they will survive,” Kawakami said. “Nevertheless, it is a fact.”

“They are strange,” Lord Kubota said, “but they cannot be that strange.”

“It is written into their supreme law,” Kawakami said. “Happiness is declared to be a right guaranteed to everyone.”

“To individuals?” Mukai said.

Kawakami shot him an irritated look. His function was to attend, listen, and appreciate, not speak. Mukai bowed apologetically. Mollified, and feeling magnanimous that night, Kawakami answered him. “Yes. To individuals.”

“How perverse,” Lord Noda said.

Mukai silently agreed. Perverse, without question. The goal of society was order, and the only way to order was the correct establishment of place. Civilization required it. Everyone must know his place, accept it, and behave accordingly. Anything else would result in chaos. Happiness. What an idea. Mukai felt an excitement he thought at the time was righteous indignation, which was the appropriate response.

Then he saw the sword guard and something broke open inside of him. Before he knew it, he was weeping.

“My lord,” Seami the shopkeeper said, “are you unwell?”

The sparrows in midair. Though they were but inanimate representations in filigreed steel, were they not freer than he would ever be?

Genji’s beauty.

His own ugliness.

The emptiness of place.

Happiness. A pure, individual, personal, selfish happiness. To think of oneself and to forget all else. Even better, to disappear into the bliss of unbridled love. If he could be with Genji, he would vanish, and only Genji would remain, beautiful, so very beautiful.

And so he wept as Seami stood by, helplessly wringing his hands.

Mukai purchased the sword guard for the first figure Seami named, without haggling. He would gladly have paid twice as much. With it, he invented a fictitious ancestor who had fought with the Okumichis at Sekigahara. It gave him a reason to meet privately with Genji.

Now, as snow continued to fall, and his large, blunt-fingered hand tightly clutched the sword guard, Mukai made the most fateful decision of his life.

Within the hour, he left Edo Castle, bound for his home on the Sea of Japan. He was a minor lord, with a mere two hundred armed vassals. No matter. He would summon them all and rally to the sparrow-and-arrows banner of the Okumichi clan. If the young lord was to die, then he, too, would die.

The thought of perishing in the same place and at the same moment as Genji brought an exquisite vision of nearly unendurable beauty to his imagination. It was too much to hope for. Yet it wasn’t impossible. They could die in each other’s arms, the blood of love beautifying them both in the eternal moment of death.

A joyous warmth flooded Mukai’s bosom. Winter itself was banished.

Unashamed, he admitted the truth he felt to the core of his being.

The outsiders were right. Nothing was more important than happiness.

Sohaku and Kudo guided their horses through the deep snow.

“There they are,” Kudo said.

Two thousand samurai were bivouacked in the clearing ahead. At their center was a command tent. A quarter of the men were armed with muskets as well as the usual complement of swords and lances.

“No sentries are posted,” Kudo said. “That is careless.”

“The country is at peace,” Sohaku said, “and besides, who will attack the Shogun’s army so close to Edo?”

Kawakami, dressed ostentatiously in full battle armor, greeted them effusively as they entered his tent.

“Lord Kudo, Reverend Abbot Sohaku, welcome.”

Sohaku said, “Thank you for seeing us in such extraordinary circumstances, Lord Kawakami.”

“Nonsense. Some sake, to cut the chill?”

“Thank you.”

“I trust you were able to depart from Edo without excessive difficulty.”

“Yes, thanks to you.” Sohaku emptied his cup, which an attendant immediately refilled. “Regrettably, we were forced to kill the men who were keeping watch on the palace. Otherwise our departure would have been too easy, and suspicions would have been aroused. We are not yet certain of the loyalty of all of our men.”

“Understood,” Kawakami said. “I expected nothing else. I therefore assigned my own least reliable men to the watch. Therefore, it could be said that we have already exchanged mutual favors.” He bowed, and Sohaku and Kudo did the same. So far, the depths of their bows were precisely equal. “What is your strength?”

This was the second test. The first, which they had passed, was entering Kawakami’s camp alone, without a contingent of bodyguards. Now they were being asked to reveal their numbers and armament.

“One hundred and twelve samurai,” Sohaku said without hesitation, “all mounted, all armed with muskets of the Napoleonic type, and carrying twenty rounds of ammunition apiece.”

“Are they your own hereditary vassals?”

“Mine or Kudo’s, most of them. About a dozen are direct retainers of the Okumichi family.”

Kawakami frowned. “Would it not be most sensible to eliminate those without delay?”

“The situation is sensitive,” Sohaku said. “Our men are samurai of the most conservative and traditional type. Anything smacking of the cowardly or underhanded will undermine my own position. Murdering a dozen men loyal to their liege lord would not be helpful in that regard.”

“Having them in your midst is excessively dangerous,” Kawakami said.

“I agree. At midday today, I will announce my allegiance to the Shogun, giving as my reason the need for national unity in the face of a likely barbarian invasion. We must set aside old grievances and unite, as our ancestors did when the Mongols invaded Japan six centuries ago. I will say that Kudo and I have concluded, regrettably, that Lord Genji is not prophetic but insane, as is his uncle, Lord Shigeru, whose heinous crimes are well known among our men. To follow him blindly is not loyalty but cowardice. True loyalty is adherence to the ancient ideals embodied by our late lord, Kiyori. We must uphold the honor of the Okumichi house by establishing a regency. Lord Genji will be taken into protective custody, and we will henceforth act in his name.”

“You are quite an orator, Reverend Abbot. Had you remained in a monastic setting, you would undoubtedly have led many listeners to
bitoku
.”

“You are too kind, Lord Kawakami. As a true samurai, you could expound just as well on the nature of essential moral virtue.”

“What of those whose doubts are not dispelled by the clarity of your words?”

“Their loyalty to Lord Genji, misplaced though it is, will be honored. They will be permitted to depart directly for Akaoka.” Sohaku accepted another serving of sake. “Do you think any of them will successfully evade your forces?”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“So do I.”

Kawakami said, “There is still Lord Shigeru to consider.”

“He is the murderer of Lord Kiyori. We will deliver him to his proper fate.”

Kawakami nodded. “Excellent. However, I am troubled by one aspect of your plan.”

“Please share your concern.”

“Lord Genji alive will continue to be a serious danger, even in custody. His reputation for prophecy, specious though it is, has a powerful hold on the popular imagination.”