Dragon Sword and Wind Child (7 page)
At eventide, I gaze beyond the clouds,
lost in thought,
Dreaming of my beloved so far away.
â Anonymous
M
AHOROBA DERIVED ITS NAME
from its location at the center of the lands of Toyoashihara. From here a road had once led to heaven. According to legend, the long valley, running north to south, was formed by the foot of the God of Light when he returned to his celestial home, and it did indeed resemble a huge footprint, as though someone had stepped in the middle of the mountains. Within this imprint nestled the extensive buildings of the Palace of Light and a multitude of lesser manors that housed the palace subjects, together comprising the capital.
The journey had lasted many days, during which time Saya had become accustomed to horse and saddle. She had even ridden on a ferry with the horses. What surprised her most as she crossed the mountain wall was the orderliness of the mountains hemming the capital; that and the way their vivid green slopes crowded in on every side, cutting off the sky. Comparing Mahoroba to her childhood home in the east, and to the countless mountains and rivers they had crossed in between, was like comparing a smooth bowl produced upon a potter's wheel to a rough-hewn wood carving. Here one would find no reedy marshes that took half a day to cross, no precipitous cliffs of red rock rising sudden and sheer in one's path. Everything was delicate and orderly, as if cradled tenderly within the palm of a giant hand.
The vengeful gods of the earth do not reside in this land.
That's what makes it Mahoroba,
Saya thought.
Nature wielded no power here; rather, power was vested in human hands. The roads, the cultivated fields, the buildings of men, which usually appeared insignificant before the creations of wind and water, had reached their zenith in Mahoroba. They rode past irrigated rice paddies, the water levels of which were carefully regulated. The pale green of the young rice seedlings and the dark purple of the irises along the embankments seemed to melt into the humid haze. A fine silken rain fell continuously, though it did not hinder their progress. Despite the heavy clouds hanging overhead, the sky was bright and glowed like dull nickel. The capital, which Saya saw for the first time in her life, was clad mysteriously in a light robe of early summer rain. Several times they passed local people wearing straw rain cloaks who, as soon as they caught sight of the procession, scrambled off the road and knelt in the mud, not daring to raise their heads until the horses' hooves had passed.
Finally a huge gate set in a tall stockade came into view through the misty white haze. The gate was roofed, sufficiently large to house many people, and heavily guarded. Saya, expecting to see the main hall once she passed through the gate, was surprised to enter a large square from which the road stretched still farther before them. Countless lofty buildings, each enclosed behind its own walls, lined the road.
“Well,” she muttered to herself, “how many layers will it take to satisfy them? Mahoroba is just like a set of nested boxes.”
They passed through two or three more gates. All she could see were earthen walls, pillars painted cinnabar red, and guards; the place seemed unnaturally still. It was so imposing that Saya, who was nervous anyway, was overwhelmed. When they passed through the last gate, however, the surroundings suddenly brightened. Despite the fact that it was midday, wood burned in metal brackets. The enormous plaza in which they stood was the courtyard of the palace's main hall, an immense structure with two stately wings extending to either side and behind which soared a high wooden tower. People thronged the main steps and crowded along both wings, waiting to welcome them.
Saya's eyes were drawn to a resplendent figure standing at the top of the main steps. Her hair was fastened in many loops through which were thrust long golden hairpins, and the delicate ornaments dangling from them swayed gently, framing her face. She wore robes of layered crimson and purple, beaded with white pearls and covered in a silver shawl of gossamer silk. Her ears were adorned with charming earrings of jade. More dazzling than all of these, however, was the beauty that radiated from the Princess herself.
Prince Tsukishiro urged his dapple-gray stallion forward to where his heralds, who had preceded him, stood waiting respectfully. The horses of his aides halted next, and Saya and the others fell in behind them. When they had dismounted and stood at attention, Prince Tsukishiro uttered a formal greeting in clear, ringing tones.
“Long have we been parted, O sister. I have returned from the war in the remote lands of the barbarians to the east.”
“Let us rejoice at your safe and swift return,” replied Princess Teruhi, her scarlet lips brighter than the building's pillars. Her gaze and the clear ringing tone of her voice, unusual in a woman, were identical to her brother's. “And how handsome is your figure garbed in armor, my brother, even in the rain.”
A wry smile briefly touched Prince Tsukishiro's face. “And you, my sister: the beauty of your figure in such robes surpasses that of your golden armor shining in the midday sun. Even more so when to behold you thus is as rare as a rainbow at dawn.”
Princess Teruhi responded with a slight scowl. “Let us leave such banter for later. You had best remove your armor, dry yourself, and rest after your tiring journey. And your companions, too.”
Having been dismissed, the Prince and his retinue began leading their horses to the stables. Princess Teruhi paused as she was going through the doors and looked back as though remembering something. “Tsukishiro,” she called out. “When you're finished, we will meet in your hall. And have your so-called new handmaiden attend us.”
WHAT FOLLOWED
for Saya was unpleasant. She was placed in the hands of an elderly lady-in-waiting and led off in the opposite direction from the Prince's hall. Although she realized it was outrageous to hope that she might always be near the Prince, she still felt forsaken. Prince Tsukishiro was her sole support, and without him she found everything around her intimidating. She was taken through countless stately buildings connected by passageways to a room which she was told was hers, but it was so far removed that she was sure she would never find her way back to the gate. Feeling like a prisoner, she could find no joy in the room's rich furnishings, its silk screen and thick straw-stuffed mats. And worse, even in Mahoroba, old people were old. Saya's lady-in-waiting gave the impression of having once been beautiful, but sharp wrinkles were etched in her face, and she had a rigid arrogance, assuming that what was right for her was right for everyone.
She looked Saya over from head to toe with scornful eyes and, allowing no protest, dragged her back into the passageway. This time she led her to the bath. Saya, who had always washed in the river, and was therefore totally ignorant of baths, found herself in a room with black wooden walls, a large tub, and a bucket from which steam was rising. Two young servant girls waiting in the room approached the astonished Saya, removed her clothes, and drove her into the tub, which they had filled with steaming water. Next they took a rough cloth and began to rub vigorously. The lady-in-waiting stood watching, commanding the girls to scrub harder, despite the fact that Saya already felt herself to be subjected to punishing abuse. Unable to endure it any longer, she shook herself free, scooped up hot water in both hands, and threw it over the girls. Shocked, the lady-in-waiting shrieked, “What do you think you're doing? This is no place for such unladylike behavior!”
“There's no need to skin me alive.”
“But you're covered in grime.”
“I am not!” Saya retorted.
Perhaps realizing that Saya was not one to give in easily, the two girls relaxed their efforts somewhat. Even so, she was sure that her skin had been rubbed raw, but when the heat of the bath had cooled she found that it was not as sore as she had expected. Next they brushed her hair endlessly, clothed her, and tied her sash unnecessarily tight. By the time they had finished and she had returned to her room, it was already dark.
“Well, you look a little better,” the elderly woman commented. “Would you like some color for your lips? You're a bit pale.”
“No thank you,” Saya replied, still fuming. “I'd rather have some food. I haven't eaten for ages.”
She was acutely aware that the supper hour had long since passed. Delicious smells had come from the kitchens near the bath. Having ridden all day without a meal since morning, she was so hungry that it was no wonder she was pale.
“There's no time for that. It's the hour at which I was commanded to bring you to His Highness,” the lady-in-waiting replied imperiously. Sensing an undercurrent of spite in her words, Saya said, “It's of no consequence. I will just ask Prince Tsukishiro himself.”
The lady-in-waiting drew herself up haughtily. “Surely you would not dare to sully His Highness's ears with such vulgar concerns.”
“Oh no. I will simply tell him that I haven't had a bite to eat since we reached the palace.”
“Well!” The lady-in-waiting broke off abruptly and, leaving the room, ordered a servant to bring a tray of food immediately. Returning, she continued, “How childish! You're not in the least attractive. I can't imagine how you managed to catch the Prince's eye.”
She was silenced, however, when Saya retorted, “And I suppose your attractiveness has caught his eye?” She sat with her back turned, uttering not another word. Besides a bowl of fluffy white rice, the tray brought by the servant held a variety of dishes, of which some, such as the fish, mushrooms, and greens, were familiar, and others, such as the dried abalone and sea cucumber, were not. Although Saya left the less appealing dishes untouched, she found the rice delicious.
Urged by the lady-in-waiting, she rose and was led hastily through numerous corridors and connecting passageways toward the Prince's hall. Built of unvarnished wood, it was large enough to host a gathering of Saya's entire village beneath its roof. Entering through double doors studded with gleaming rivets, they passed along a floor of polished white cedar, smooth enough to skate on. In the innermost chamber, a canopy hung with floor-length curtains of fine silk and five-colored cords surrounded the low platform where the Prince sat. On the floor in front of this were placed bearskins and armrests for guests. Some fruit had been placed upon a small lacquered table. In each corner of the room, a candle stand had been placed in front of a silk screen, brightly illuminating the pictures. Four strange animals unlike any creatures in this world were depicted there.
Prince Tsukishiro rose and stepped through the curtains. He was wearing a long, pale yellow robe, and, with his hair hanging loose, he looked totally at ease. The lady-in-waiting knelt before him and bowed low.
“I have brought the maiden.”
“You're late,” said the Prince with some displeasure.
“I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. The preparations took time.”
The Prince looked at Saya and inclined his head to one side, thinking.
“Servant,” he said abruptly. “Remove that sash. Pale blue is better. This color is something my sister would wear.”
Saya, who was wearing a crimson sash, blushed.
“To hear is to obey. I will bring another immediately.” The old woman responded in such a way that only Saya could detect the rebuke in her voice and quickly left the room. It was too late now to do anything about her deliberate unkindness. Saya raised a miserable face and looked questioningly at the Prince. Surely by now he must be tired of this ignorant country girl, but he smiled at her and said, “You prefer light shades, don't you?”
Sitting down on one of the bearskins, he added, “A pale blue sash will suit you. You should wear one. After all, Sayura always wore that color.”
Saya's relief had lasted but a brief moment. His last words robbed her of strength. She felt even more miserable than before, but it was useless to complain or give up now. She did indeed feel better wearing the light blue sash the lady-in-waiting brought, and she decided to concentrate on that thought alone.
Shortly after, a young woman announced the arrival of Princess Teruhi. Noticing Saya's anxiety, Prince Tsukishiro said, “If you're nervous, wait behind that screen.”
Who wouldn't be nervous if the sun and the moon were to appear
before their very eyes?
Saya thought as she concealed herself gratefully. She could not stop trembling, but, although terrified, she did not want to miss the opportunity to see such a marvel. Soon she heard brisk, masculine footsteps and Princess Teruhi appeared. It was no wonder that she walked like a man. She had discarded all but the pale peach inner layer of her sumptuous robes. Pleated trousers with garters at the knees replaced the fine skirts she had worn before. All her hair ornaments were gone and, except for two small loops above her ears, her hair hung loose. It was so long that it fell down her back to the floor.
Looking up at her, Prince Tsukishiro said, “Well, well. So you've changed already.”
“Of course. I can hardly move in such garments. And I certainly can't sit properly in them,” Princess Teruhi replied as she crossed her legs firmly on a bearskin.
There was not a speck of difference between the two faces confronting each other. Yet Saya had never dreamed that they could give such opposite impressions. Like day to night, the spirit of Princess Teruhi was in striking contrast to that of Prince Tsukishiro. She radiated passion; the Prince, sorrow.
Saya could readily understand that people instinctively feared the Princess more. Her beauty was her intensity, a shaft that pierced the heart. The faint musky perfume of her aggressive spirit quickly filled the room.