The Harsh Cry of the Heron (14 page)

The tide was ebbing
as they came to the stone bridge, and the river smelled of salt and mud. The
bridge had been destroyed in the Great Earthquake, people said in punishment of
Arai Daiichi’s treachery, for he had turned on his Otori allies right alongside
the stone carved with the words: The Otori clan welcomes the just and the
loyal. Let the unjust and disloyal beware.

‘And look what
happened to him!’ Maya said in satisfaction as they stood before the stone for
a few moments, making an offering of wine, thanking the river god for
protecting the Otori and remembering the death of the stonemason who had been
walled up alive long ago within the parapet of the bridge. His skeleton had
been found in the river and had been buried again during the rebuilding of the
bridge, beneath the stone, which had also been retrieved from the river.
Shizuka often told the girls this story, and that of his daughter, Akane, and
sometimes they visited the shrine at the volcano’s crater where Akane’s tragic
death was commemorated and her spirit invoked by unhappy lovers, men and women.

‘Shizuka must grieve
for Lord Arai, though,’ Shigeko said quietly as they left the bridge. For a
moment the twins walked side by side: passers-by dropped to their knees as
Shigeko went past, but from the twins they averted their faces.

‘I grieved for the
love that was once between us,’ Shizuka replied. ‘And for my sons, who saw
their father die before their eyes. But Arai had already made me an enemy, and
had ordered my death. His own death was no more than a just end to the way he
chose to live.’

‘You know so much
about those times!’ Shigeko exclaimed.

‘Yes, probably more
than anyone,’ Shizuka admitted. ‘As I grow older, all that is past becomes
clearer in my mind. Ishida and I have been recording all my memories: your
father requested it.’

‘And you knew Lord
Shigeru?’

‘For whom you are
named. Yes, I knew him closely. We confided in each other for years, and
trusted each other with our lives.’

‘He must have been a
good man.’

‘I have never met
another like him.’

‘Was he a better man
than my father?’

‘Shigeko! I cannot
judge your father!’

‘Why not? You are his
cousin. You know him better than most people.’

‘Takeo is very like
Shigeru: he is a great man and a great leader.’

‘But. . .?’

‘All men have flaws,’
Shizuka said. ‘Your father tries to master his, but his nature is divided in a
way that Shigeru’s was not.’

Shigeko shivered
suddenly, though the air was still warm. ‘Don’t say any more! I’m sorry I asked
you.’

‘What’s wrong? Did
you have a premonition?’

‘I have them all the
time,’ Shigeko replied quietly. ‘I know how many people seek my father’s death.’
She gestured at the twins, now waiting at the gate to the shrine. ‘Our family
is divided in the same manner: we are the reflection of his nature. What will
happen to my sisters in the future? What will their place be in the world?’ She
shivered again, and made an effort to change the subject.

‘Has your husband
returned from his latest voyage?’

‘He is expected any
day; he may already be in Hofu. I have not heard.’

‘Father was in Hofu!
Maybe they met there. Maybe they will return together.’ Shigeko turned and
gazed back towards the bay. ‘Tomorrow we will climb the hill and see if their
ship is in sight.’

They entered the
shrine enclosure, passing beneath the huge gate, whose architrave was carved
with mythical animals and birds, houou, kirin and shishi. The shrine was
enfolded in greenery. Huge willow trees lined the riverbank; on the other three
sides grew live oak and cedars, the last elements of the primeval forest that
had once covered the land from mountain to river. The clamour of the city faded
into stillness, broken only by bird-song. The slanting western light lit up the
dust between the massive trunks in rays of gold.

A white horse in an
elaborately carved stable neighed greedily on seeing them, and the twins went
to offer carrots to the sacred beast, patting its plump neck and fussing over
it.

An elderly man
appeared from behind the main hall. He was the priest, and had been dedicated
to the service of the river god as a young boy after his eldest brother drowned
at the fish weir. His name was Hiroki. He was the third son of Mori Yusuke, the
horsebreaker to the Otori. His older brother, Kiyoshige, had been Lord Shigeru’s
closest friend, and had died at Yaegahara.

Hiroki was smiling as
he approached them. He shared in the city’s unanimous approval of Shigeko, and
had a particular bond with her through their love of horses. He had maintained
his family’s tradition, taking care of the Otori horses after his father went
to the end of the world in search of the swift horses of the steppes. Yusuke
himself never returned, but he sent back a stallion that became the sire of
Raku and Shun, who were both broken in and trained by Takeshi, Shigeru’s
younger brother, before his death.

‘Welcome, lady!’ Like
many people he ignored the twins, as though their existence was too shameful to
acknowledge. The girls withdrew a little under the shade of the trees, watching
the priest carefully with their opaque eyes. Shigeko saw they were angry. Miki
in particular had a fiery temper, which she had not yet learned to bring under
control. Maya’s temper was colder, but more implacable.

After they had
exchanged courtesies and Shigeko had presented the offerings, Hiroki pulled on
the bell rope to waken the spirit and Shigeko made her usual prayer for the
protection of the horses, seeing herself as an intermediary between the
physical world and the spiritual for beings who had no speech and therefore no
prayers.

A half-grown cat came
scampering along the veranda, chasing a fallen leaf. Hiroki caught it up in his
arms, caressing its head and ears. It began to purr throatily. Its eyes were
huge and amber, its pupils slitted against the bright sun, its pale
rust-coloured fur splashed by patches of black and ginger.

‘You have a new
friend,’ Shigeko exclaimed.

‘Yes, he came to seek
shelter one wet night and has stayed ever since. He is a good companion, the
horses like him, and he terrifies the mice into silence.’

Shigeko had never
seen a more handsome cat; the contrasts in its colouring were striking. She saw
the old man had grown fond of the animal, and she was glad for him. His family
were all dead: he had lived through the defeat of the Otori at Yaegahara and
the destruction of the city in the earthquake. His only interests now were his
service of the river god and his care of the horses.

The cat allowed
itself to be patted for a moment, then struggled until Hiroki put it down. It
dashed away, tail high.

‘There’s a storm
coming,’ Hiroki said, chuckling. ‘He feels the weather in his fur.’

Maya had picked up a
twig. She bent down and scratched the leaves with it. The cat went still, its
eyes intent.

‘Let’s go and see the
horses,’ Shigeko said. ‘Come with me, Shizuka.’

Miki ran after them,
but Maya remained crouched in the shade, enticing the cat to come closer. The
maid waited patiently on the veranda.

One corner of the
small field had been fenced with bamboo, and a black colt was confined within
it. The ground was worn and rutted where the horse had been pacing, and when it
saw them it neighed shrilly and reared. The two other young horses called in
reply. They were nervous and skittish. Both had recent bite marks on neck and
flank.

A boy was filling the
colt’s water bucket. ‘He kicks it over on purpose,’ he grumbled. One of his
arms bore the signs of teeth marks and bruising.

‘Did he bite you?’
Shigeko asked.

The boy nodded. ‘He’s
kicked me too.’ He showed another dark purple bruise on his calf.

‘I don’t know what to
do with him,’ Hiroki said. ‘He has always been difficult: now he has become
dangerous.’

‘He’s beautiful,’
Shigeko said, admiring the long legs and muscled back, the fine-shaped head and
large eyes.

‘Yes, he’s
fine-looking, and tall: the tallest horse we have. But his temperament is so
intractable, I don’t know if he’ll ever be broken, or if we should breed from
him.’

‘He looks ready to
breed!’ Shizuka remarked, and they all laughed, for the horse was showing all
the signs of an eager stallion.

‘I’m afraid putting
him with the mares will make him worse,’ Hiroki said.

Shigeko moved closer
to the colt. It rolled its eyes and put its ears back.

‘Be careful,’ Hiroki
warned, and at that moment the horse tried to bite her.

The horse boy smacked
it as Shigeko drew back out of reach of the horse’s teeth. She studied the animal
for a few moments without saying anything.

‘Confining him must
make him worse,’ she said. ‘Move the other young ones and let him have this
field to himself. How would it be if you brought a couple of old, barren mares
- would they calm him down and teach him manners?’

‘It’s a good idea; I’ll
try it,’ the old man said, and told the boy to take the other two horses to the
further meadows. ‘We’ll bring the mares in a day or two. He’ll appreciate
company more if he’s lonely!’

‘I will come every
day and see if he can be gentled,’ Shigeko said, thinking she would write to
Hiroshi and ask his advice. Maybe Hiroshi will even come and help me break him
in . . .

Shigeko was smiling
to herself as they returned to the shrine.

Maya was sitting on
the veranda next to the maid, eyes cast down in a semblance of docility. The
cat lay limp in the dirt, a small bundle of fur, all its beauty and vitality
faded.

The old man cried
out, and went hurrying, stumbling, towards it. He picked it up and held it
close. It moved slightly, but did not waken.

Shizuka went at once
to Maya. ‘What have you done?’

‘Nothing,’ she
replied. ‘It looked at me, and then it fell asleep.’

‘Wake up, Mikkan,’
the old man implored in vain. ‘Wake up!’

Shizuka was gazing in
alarm at the cat. With a visible effort to control her reaction, she said
quietly, ‘It will not waken. Not for a long time, if ever.’

‘What is it?’ Shigeko
said. ‘What did she do to it?’

‘I didn’t do
anything,’ Maya said again, but her eyes, when she looked up, were hard and
bright, almost excited, and when she looked at the old man, who had begun to
weep quietly, her mouth twisted scornfully.

Then Shigeko realized
and said, feeling sick, ‘It’s one of those secret skills, isn’t it? Something
she learned while she was away? Some horrible sorcery!’

‘Let’s not talk about
it here,’ Shizuka murmured, for the shrine servants had gathered round and were
staring open-mouthed, fingering their amulets and invoking the protection of
the river spirit. ‘We must go back. Maya must be punished. But it may be too
late.’

‘Too late for what?’
Shigeko demanded. ‘I will tell you later. I only half understand these Kikuta
skills. I wish your father were here.’

Shigeko longed even
more for her father to come home as she faced her mother’s anger. It was late
on the same day: Shizuka had taken the twins away to inflict some kind of
punishment on Maya and they had been sent to separate rooms to sleep. Thunder
rolled in the distance, and now from where she knelt, head bowed before her
mother, she could see the glimmer on the gold-embossed walls as lightning
flashed far out to sea. The cat’s weather prediction had been correct.

Kaede said, ‘You
should not have taken them there together! You know I do not want them seen in
public together.’

‘Forgive me, Mother,’
Shigeko whispered. She was not accustomed to her mother’s disapproval and it
hurt her deeply. Yet she was concerned for the twins too, and felt her mother
was unjust to them. ‘It had been a hot day; they had studied hard. They needed
an outing.’

‘They may play in the
garden here,’ Kaede replied. ‘Maya must be sent away again.’

‘It is the last
summer we will all spend together in Hagi,’ Shigeko pleaded. ‘Let her stay at
least until Father comes home.’

‘Miki is manageable,
but Maya is growing beyond control,’ Kaede exclaimed. ‘And no punishment seems
to touch her. Separation from her twin, you and her father may be the best way
of curbing her will. It would also give us some peace during the summer!’

‘Mother . . .?’
Shigeko began, but then could not continue.

‘I know you think I
am hard on them both,’ Kaede said after a moment of silence. She approached her
daughter, and raised her head so she could see her face. Then she drew her
close and caressed the long, silky hair.

‘How beautiful your
hair is! Just like mine used to be!’

‘They wish you could
love them,’ Shigeko dared to say, feeling her mother’s anger abate. ‘They
believe you hate them because they are not boys.’

‘I do not hate them,’
Kaede said. ‘I am ashamed of them. It is a terrible thing to have twins, like a
curse. I feel it was a punishment of some kind, a warning from Heaven. And when
incidents like this one with the cat occur they frighten me. Often I think it
would be better if they had died at birth, like most twins. Your father would
not hear of it. He allowed them to live. But now I ask myself: for what
purpose? They are Lord Otori’s daughters; they cannot go off and live with the
Tribe. They will soon be of marriageable age - who among the warrior class will
ever marry them? Who would take a sorceress for a wife? If their skills were
disclosed, they might even be put to death for them.’