The Harsh Cry of the Heron (25 page)

‘There are goblins
there,’ Maya told Sunaomi, ‘with long noses and eyes on stalks!’

She pointed up the
hill, where the dark trees formed an impenetrable mass. Two kites wheeled above
them. The four children were in the garden at the end of the afternoon on the
third day of the Festival. The day had been stifling; even in the garden, under
the trees, it was still unbearably hot.

‘I’m not afraid of
goblins,’ he replied. ‘I’m not afraid of anything!’

‘These goblins eat
boys,’ Miki whispered. ‘They eat them raw, bit by bit!’

‘Like tigers?’
Sunaomi replied, mocking, irritating Maya even more. She had not forgotten
Sunaomi’s words to her father, his unconscious assumption of superiority:

They are only girls,
after all. She would pay him back for that. She felt the cat stir inside her,
and flexed her hands.

‘They can’t get to us
here,’ Chikara said nervously. ‘There are too many guards.’

‘Oh, it’s easy to be
brave when you’re surrounded by guards,’ Maya said to Sunaomi. ‘If you were
really brave, you would go outside alone!’

‘I am not allowed to,’
he replied.

‘You are scared to!’

‘No, I’m not!’

‘So go outside. I’m
not afraid to. I’ve been to Akane’s house, even though her ghost haunts it. I’ve
seen her.’

‘Akane hates boys,’
Miki whispered. ‘She buries boys alive in her garden so the shrubs grow well
and smell sweet.’

‘Sunaomi wouldn’t
dare go there,’ Maya said, showing her small white teeth in a half smile.

‘In Kumamoto I was
sent to the graveyard at night to bring back a lantern,’ Sunaomi said. ‘I didn’t
see a single ghost!’

‘So go to Akane’s
house and bring back a spray of flowers.’

‘That would be so
easy,’ Sunaomi said scornfully. ‘Only I’m not allowed - your father said so.’

‘You’re afraid,’ Maya
said.

‘It’s not very easy
to get out without being seen.’

‘It’s easy if you’re
not scared. You’re just making excuses.’ Maya stood and went to the edge of the
sea wall. ‘You climb down here at low tide and walk over the rocks to the
beach.’ Sunaomi had followed her, and she pointed to the clump of pine trees
where Akane’s house stood, empty and forlorn-looking. It was half dismantled in
preparation for the building of the new shrine: no longer a dwelling, not yet a
temple, it suggested the in-between world of spirits. The tide was half full,
the partly exposed rocks jagged and slippery. ‘You could go tonight.’ She
turned and looked at Sunaomi, holding his gaze for an instant until his eyes
began to roll.

‘Maya!’ Miki called
warningly.

‘Oh, forgive me,
cousin! I forgot. I mustn’t look at people. I promised Father.’ She gave
Sunaomi a quick slap on the cheek to wake him up, and went back to Chikara.

‘Do you know, if you
gaze into my eyes you will go to sleep and never wake up!’

Sunaomi came running
to his brother’s defence. ‘Do you know that you would not be alive if you lived
in Kumamoto? We kill twins there!’

‘I don’t believe
anything you say,’ Maya replied. ‘Everyone knows the Arai are traitors and
cowards.’

Sunaomi drew himself
up proudly. ‘If you were a boy, I would kill you. But since you are only a
girl, I will go to this house and bring back whatever you want.’

At sunset the sky was
clear, the air blue and luminous with no wind, but as the moon rose, one night
past full, it drew with it from the east a strange dark mass of cloud that
spread across the sky, obliterating the stars and finally swallowing the moon
itself. Sea and land merged into one. The last fires still smouldered on the
beach; there was no other light.

Sunaomi was the
eldest son of a warrior family. He had been trained since infancy in
self-discipline and the overcoming of fear. It was not difficult for him,
though only eight years old, to stay awake until midnight. He was, despite his
bold assurances, apprehensive - but more of disobeying his uncle than of
physical danger or ghosts.

The retainers who had
accompanied him from Hofu were staying in one of the clan halls in the town,
ordered there by Lord Otori: the castle guards were mainly on the gates and
around the front walls. A patrol walked through the gardens at regular
intervals. Sunaomi heard them go past the open doors of the room where he and
Chikara slept, along with the two maids who took care of them. Both girls were
fast asleep, one of them snoring slightly. He rose quickly, ready to say he was
going to the privy if they woke, but neither stirred.

Outside, the night
was still. Both castle and town slept. Below the wall, the sea murmured gently.
Hardly able to discern anything, Sunaomi took a deep breath and began to feel
his way down the great ramp of the wall. Made of huge stones fitted closely
together, giving just enough space for a fingerhold, it curved outwards
slightly, towards the water. Several times he thought himself stuck, unable to
go up or down; he thought of monsters that came up out of the sea, huge fish or
giant octopuses that might at any moment pluck him into the darkness. The sea
moaned, louder now. He could hear the swirl of water on the rocks.

When his feet, in the
straw sandals, touched the surface of the rock, he slipped immediately and
nearly fell straight into the water. Scrabbling to grab a handhold he felt the
sharp shells like knives beneath his palms and knees. A wave crept under him,
setting the small cuts stinging. Clenching his teeth, he edged his way like a
crab in the direction of the last smouldering fires, towards the shore.

The beach was a pale
greyness; the waves hissed with a sudden gleam of white. When he reached the
sand, it was a relief to feel its softness beneath his feet. It gave way to
tussocks of stiff grass; he stumbled and continued on all fours into the small
grove where the trunks of the pines loomed around him. An owl hooted overhead,
making him jump, and its ghostly shape floated briefly ahead of him on
soundless wings.

The glow of the fires
was well behind him. He halted for a few moments, crouching beneath the trees.
He could smell their resiny scent along with the smoke from the fires, and
another heavy fragrance, sweet and enticing -the shrubs in Akane’s garden,
their perfume enhanced by boys’ blood and bones.

Boys were frequently
sent to graveyards or execution grounds at night to test their courage. Sunaomi
had boasted to Maya that he had never seen a ghost. But that did not mean he
did not believe in their existence: women with long necks like snakes and teeth
sharp as cats’, strange inhuman shapes with only one eye and no limbs, headless
bandits who resented their cruel punishment, any one of the restless dead who
sought to feed on human blood or human souls.

He swallowed hard and
tried to suppress the shivering that threatened to take over his limbs. I am
Aral Sunaomi, he told himself, son of Zenko, grandson of Daiichi. I am afraid
of nothing.

He forced himself to
stand, and to walk forwards, though his legs seemed as heavy as the tree
trunks, and he badly needed to piss. He could just make out the walls of the
garden, the curve of the roof behind them. The gate stood open; the walls were
beginning to crumble.

As he stepped through
the gate, he walked into a summer spider’s web, the sticky threads clinging to
face and hair. His breath was coming faster now, but he told himself, I’m not
crying, I’m not crying, though he could feel the pressure of water building up
behind his eyes, inside his bladder.

The house seemed
completely dark. Something scuttled away across the veranda, a cat perhaps, or
a large rat. He held his hands out in front of him as he followed the scent
round the far side of the house and into the garden. The cat - it must have
been a cat - yowled suddenly from the shadows.

He could see the
blossom: the only thing visible in the darkness, a faint gleam. He set out
towards it, hurrying now, desperate to pluck a spray and escape, but he tripped
over a rock and fell full length, his mouth in the earth. Its smell and taste
made him think of graves and corpses, and how he might soon lie buried in it,
its taste his last living sensation.

Then he pushed
himself up on all fours and spat out the earth. He stood, reached up and snapped
off a branch. The shrub instantly gave out another strong smell of sap, and
Sunaomi heard footsteps on the veranda behind him.

As he spun round, his
eyes were instantly dazzled by the light. All he could see was a half-formed
shape, a woman, but only partly a woman, one who must have just struggled out
of the grave. The shadows played over her; her arms were stretching out to him.
The lamp rose a little; the light fell on her face. She had no eyes, no mouth,
no nose.

His control broke. He
screamed; the wetness burst out, running down his legs. He threw the branch
from him.

‘I’m sorry, Lady
Akane. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me. Don’t bury me!’

‘What on earth?’ a
voice exclaimed, a human voice, a man’s voice. ‘What do you think you’re doing
here at this time of night?’

But Sunaomi was
incapable of answering.

Taro, who had taken
to sleeping at Akane’s house while he worked on the statue, carried the boy at
once back to the castle. Sunaomi was not harmed in any way, other than being
severely frightened, and the following morning would not even admit to that,
but a wound had been made in his heart, and though it healed it left a scar of
deep hatred towards Maya and Miki. From that time on Sunaomi dwelt more and
more on his grandfather’s death and the offences against the Arai by the Otori
clan. His childish mind sought for ways to hurt Maya and Miki. He began to
ingratiate himself with the women of the household, charming and delighting
them; most of them adored boy children anyway, and he knew himself to be
handsome and winning. He missed his mother, but knew instinctively that he
could gain a high place in the affections of his aunt, Kaede, much higher than
the twin girls.

Takeo and Kaede were
distressed and angered by this episode, for if Sunaomi had been killed or badly
injured while in their care, quite apart from their own grief, for they had
both become fond of him, their strategy to placate and contain their
brother-in-law would have been completely destroyed. Takeo himself reprimanded
Sunaomi for his disobedience and foolhardiness, and questioned him closely
about his reasons, suspecting that he would never have thought of such a thing
without some prompting. It did not take long for the truth to come out, and
then it was Maya’s turn to face her father’s anger.

He was more alarmed
for her this time, for she gave no sign of contrition, and her eyes were fierce
and unrelenting, like an animal’s. She did not cry, not even when Kaede
expressed her own displeasure and slapped her hard several times.

‘She is completely
beyond reason,’ Kaede said, tears of exasperation in her own eyes. ‘She cannot
stay here. If she is not to be trusted with the young boys . . .’

Takeo heard her
concern for herself and the child she carried. He did not want to send Maya
away: he thought she needed his protection and supervision, but he was too busy
to devote much time to her, and he could not keep her constantly at his side.

‘It is not right to
want to send your own daughter away and favour other people’s sons,’ Maya said
quietly.

Kaede slapped her
again. ‘How dare you speak to me, your mother, in that way? What do you
understand of the affairs of state? Everything we do has a political reason. It
will always be like this. You are the daughter of Lord Otori. You cannot behave
like other children.’

Shizuka said, ‘She
does not know who she is: she has Tribe skills that she cannot use as a warrior’s
daughter. It’s a shame to see them wasted.’

Maya whispered, ‘Then
let me be a child of the Tribe.’

‘She needs watching
and training. But who knows about these things among the Muto? Even you,
Shizuka, with your Kikuta blood, have no experience with this sort of
possession,’ Takeo said.

‘You yourself taught
my son many Kikuta skills,’ Shizuka replied. ‘Maybe Taku is the best person.’

‘But Taku must stay
in the West. We cannot bring him back here just for Maya’s sake.’

‘Then send her to
him.’

Takeo sighed. ‘It
seems the only solution. Can someone be spared to accompany her?’

‘There is a girl; she’s
recently come from the Muto village to Hagi with her sister. They are both in
service in the foreigners’ house at present.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Sada: she is related
to Kenji’s wife, Seiko.’

Takeo nodded. He
remembered the girl now; she was tall and strongly built, and could pass as a
man, a disguise she was often called on to use while engaged in Tribe work.

‘You will go to Taku
in Maruyama,’ he told Maya. ‘You will obey Sada in everything.’

Sunaomi tried to
avoid her, but before she left, Maya cornered him, whispering, ‘You failed the
test. I told you the Arai were cowards.’

T went to the house,’
he replied. ‘Taro was there. He made me come back.’