The Harsh Cry of the Heron (33 page)

Now the sword was in
his hand. He saw the tawny throat and bared teeth. It was a cat, but a cat with
the size and strength of a wolf. One set of claws raked his face as he dived
sideways and turned to come up close enough to stab it in the throat, losing
invisibility himself in order to focus on the blow.

But the cat twisted
away. It cried in an almost human voice, and through the shock and fear of the
fight he heard something he recognized.

‘Father,’ it cried
again. ‘Don’t hurt me! It’s me, Maya.’

The girl stood before
him. It took all his strength and will to halt the knife thrust that nearly cut
his daughter’s throat. He heard his own desperate yell as he forced his hand to
turn the blade away. The knife fell from his fingers. He reached out to her and
touched her face, felt the wet of blood or tears or both.

‘I nearly killed you,’
he said, and wondered with a sense of horror and pity whether she could be
killed; he was aware of the tears in his own eyes, and when he raised his
sleeve to wipe them away he felt the sting of the scratch, the blood dripping
from his face. ‘What are you doing here? Why are you out here on your own?’ It
was almost a relief to express his confusion in anger. He wanted to slap her,
as he might have done when she misbehaved as a child, but what had happened to
her had put her beyond childhood. And it was his blood that made her what she
was.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’
She was crying like a child, incoherent with distress. He pulled her into his
arms and held her tightly, surprised by how much she had grown. Her head came
up to the centre of his breastbone; her body was lean and hard, more like a boy’s
than a girl’s.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said
with assumed calmness. ‘We will go and see Taku, and he will tell me what has
been happening to you.’

‘I’m sorry because I’m
crying,’ she said in a muffled voice.

‘I thought you might
be sorry because you tried to kill your own father,’ he replied, leading her by
the hand through the shrine gate and into the street.

‘I did not know it
was you. I could not see you. I thought you were some Kikuta assassin. As soon
as I recognized you I changed. I can’t always do that immediately, but I’m
getting better. I did not need to cry, though. I never cry. Why did I cry then?’

‘Perhaps you were
happy to see me?’

‘I am,’ she assured
him. ‘But I have never cried for joy. It must have been the shock. Well, I’ll
never cry again!’

‘There is nothing wrong
with crying,’ Takeo said. ‘I was also crying.’

‘Why? Did I hurt you?
It must be nothing compared with the wounds you have already suffered.’ She
touched her own face. ‘You hurt me worse.’

‘And I am deeply
sorry. I would rather die than hurt you.’

She has changed, he
was thinking; even her speech is more abrupt, more unfeeling. And there was
some stronger accusation behind her words, something more than the physical
wound. What other grievance did she hold against him? Was it resentment at
being sent away, or something else?

‘You should not be
out here alone.’

‘It is not Taku’s
fault,’ Maya said quickly. ‘You must not blame him.’

‘Who else do I blame?
I entrusted you to him. And where is Sada? I saw the three of you together
earlier today. Why is she not with you?’

‘Wasn’t it wonderful?’
Maya said, evading his questions. ‘Shigeko looked so beautiful. And the horse!
Did you like your present, Father? Were you surprised?’

‘Either they are
negligent or you are disobedient,’ Takeo said, refusing to be distracted by her
sudden childish speech.

‘I was disobedient.
But it’s as if I have to be. Because I can do things no one else can do, so
there is no one to teach me. I have to find out on my own.’ She shot a glance
up at him. ‘I suppose Father has never done that?’

Again he sensed a
deeper challenge. He could not deny it, but he decided not to answer, faced now
- for they were approaching the gate of the Muto residence -with the problem of
how to get inside. His face was smarting, and his body ached from the sudden,
intense fight. He could not see Maya’s wound clearly, but could picture its
jagged edge - it must be treated immediately: it would scar, almost certainly,
leaving her with an identifiable mark.

‘Is the family here
trustworthy?’ he whispered.

‘I have never asked
myself!’ Maya replied. ‘They are Muto, Taku’s relatives and Sada’s. Surely they
are?’

‘Well, we will soon
find out,’ Takeo muttered, and rapped on the barred gate, calling to the guards
within. Dogs began barking furiously.

It took a few moments
to convince them to open the gate; they did not recognize Takeo immediately,
but they knew Maya. They saw the blood in the light of their lamps, exclaimed
in surprise and called for Taku - but, Takeo noticed, none of them touched her.
Indeed, they avoided coming close to her, so she stood as if surrounded by an
invisible fence.

‘And you, sir, are
you hurt too?’ One of the men held the lamp up so its light fell on his cheek.
He made no effort to dissemble his features; he wanted to check their reaction.

‘It is Lord Otori!’
the man whispered, and the others all immediately dropped to the ground. ‘Come
in, lord.’ The man holding the lamp stood aside, lighting the threshold.

‘Get up,’ Takeo said
to the prostrate men. ‘Bring water, and some soft paper or silk wads to staunch
the bleeding.’ He stepped over the threshold, and the gate was swiftly shut and
barred behind him.

The household was
awake by now; lamps were lit within, and maids came out, blinking sleepily.
Taku came from the end of the veranda, dressed in a cotton sleeping robe, a
padded jacket flung over his shoulders. He saw Maya first, and went straight to
her. Takeo thought he was going to hit her - but Taku beckoned to the guard to
bring the light, and holding Maya’s head in both hands tilted it sideways so he
could see the wound in her cheek.

‘What happened?’ he
said.

‘It was an accident,’
Maya replied. ‘I got in the way.’

Taku led her to the
veranda, made her sit down and knelt next to her, taking a wad of paper from
the maid and soaking it in water. He bathed the wound carefully, calling for
the light to be held closer.

‘This looks like a
throwing knife. Who was out there with a throwing knife?’

‘Sir, Lord Otori is
here,’ the guard said. ‘He is also hurt.’

‘Lord Takeo?’ Taku
peered towards him. ‘Forgive me, I did not see you. You are not badly hurt?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Takeo
said, moving towards the veranda. At the step, one of the maids came forward to
take off his sandals. He knelt next to Maya. ‘It may be hard to explain how I
came by it, though. The marks will be visible for a while.’

‘I am sorry,’ Taku
began, but Takeo held up a hand to silence him.

‘We’ll talk later.
See what you can do for my daughter’s wound. I am afraid it will leave a
noticeable scar.’

‘Get Sada,’ Taku
ordered one of the maids, and a few moments later the young woman came, also
from the far end of the veranda, dressed like Taku in a sleeping robe, her
shoulder-length hair loose round her face. She looked quickly at Maya and went
into the house, returning with a small box.

‘It’s a salve Ishida
prepares for us,’ Taku said, taking it and opening it. ‘The knife was not
poisoned, I hope?’

‘No,’ Takeo replied.

‘Luckily it missed
the eye. It was you who threw it?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘At least we don’t
have to go searching for some Kikuta assassin.’ Sada held Maya’s head still
while Taku spread the paste over the wound; it seemed slightly sticky, like
glue, and held the edges of the cut together. Maya sat without flinching, her
lips curved as if she was about to smile, her eyes wide open. There was some
strange bond between the three of them, Takeo thought, for the scene held a
deep charge of emotion.

‘Go with Sada,’ Taku
told Maya. ‘Give her something to make her sleep,’ he said to Sada. ‘And stay
with her all night. I will speak with her in the morning.’

‘I am very sorry,’
Maya said. ‘I did not mean to hurt my father.’

But her tone managed
to suggest the opposite.

‘We will devise a
punishment that will make you sorrier still,’ Taku said. ‘I am very angry, and
I am sure Lord Otori is too.

‘Come closer,’ he
said to Takeo. ‘Let me see what she did to you.’

‘Let’s go inside,’
Takeo replied. ‘It is better that we speak in private.’

Telling the maids to
bring fresh water and tea, Taku led the way to the small room at the end of the
veranda. He folded the sleeping mats and pushed them to the corner. One lamp
still burned, and next to it stood a flask of wine and a drinking bowl. Takeo
surveyed the scene without saying anything.

‘I had expected to
see you before now,’ he said, his voice cold. ‘I did not expect to meet my
daughter in this way.’

‘There is really no
excuse,’ Taku replied. ‘But let me treat your wound first; sit down, here,
drink this.’ He poured the last of the wine into the bowl and handed it to
Takeo.

‘You don’t sleep
alone, but you drink alone?’ Takeo emptied the bowl at one gulp.

‘Sada doesn’t like
it.’ Two maids came to the door, one with water, one with tea. Taku took the
bowl of water and began to bathe Takeo’s cheek. The scratches stung.

‘Bring some more wine
for Lord Otori,’ Taku told the maid. ‘Quite a lot of blood,’ he murmured. ‘The
claws went deep.’

He fell silent as the
maid returned with another flask. She filled the drinking bowl and Takeo
drained it again.

‘Do you have a
mirror?’ he asked her.

She nodded. ‘I will
bring it for Lord Otori.’

She returned with an
object wrapped in a dull-brown cloth, knelt and handed it to Takeo. He
unwrapped it. It was unlike any mirror he had ever seen, long-handled, round,
the reflective surface brilliant. He had rarely seen his own reflection - and
never so clearly - and was now amazed by it. He had not known how he looked -
very like Shigeru when he had last seen him, but thinner and older. The claw
marks on his cheek were deep, scarlet edged, the blood drying darker.

‘Where did this
mirror come from?’

The maid glanced at
Taku and murmured, ‘From Kumamoto. A trader brings things from time to time, a
Kuroda man, Yasu. We buy knives and tools from him -he brought this mirror.’

‘Have you seen this?’
Takeo asked Taku.

‘Not this particular
one. I have seen something similar in Hofu and Akashi. They are becoming quite
popular.’ He tapped the surface. ‘It is glass.’

The backing was some
metal that Takeo did not immediately recognize, carved or moulded into a
pattern of interwoven flowers.

‘It was made
overseas,’ he said.

‘It looks like it,’
Taku agreed.

Takeo looked again at
his reflection. Something about the foreign mirror was bothering him. He made
an effort to put it from him now.

‘These marks will not
fade for a long time,’ he said.

‘Unn,’ Taku agreed,
dabbing at the wound with a wad of clean paper to dry it; he then began to
apply the sticky salve.

Takeo gave the mirror
back to the maid. When she had left, Taku said, ‘What was it like?’

‘The cat? The size of
a wolf, and possessing the Kikuta gaze. You have not seen it yourself?’

‘I have sensed it
within her, and a few nights ago Sada and I caught a glimpse of it. It can pass
through walls. It is extremely powerful. Maya has been resisting it in my presence,
though I have tried to persuade her to let it appear. She has to learn to
control it: at the moment it seems to take her over when her guard is down.’

‘And when she is
alone?’

‘We cannot watch her
all the time. She must be obedient; she must be held responsible for her own
actions.’

Takeo felt anger
blaze suddenly. ‘I did not expect that the two people to whom I entrusted her
would end up sleeping together!’

‘I did not expect it
either,’ Taku said quietly. ‘But it happened, and will continue.’

‘Perhaps you should
return to Inuyama, and your wife!’

‘My wife is a very
practical woman. She knows I have always had other women, in Inuyama and on my
travels. But Sada is different. I don’t seem to be able to live without her.’

‘What idiocy is this?
Don’t tell me you are bewitched!’

‘Maybe I am. I may as
well tell you that wherever I go, she will come with me, even to Inuyama.’

Takeo was astonished,
both that Taku should be so infatuated and that he made no effort to conceal
it.

‘I suppose this
explains why you have stayed away from the castle.’

‘Only partly. Until
the previous episode with the cat, I was there every day with Hiroshi and Lord
Kono. But Maya was very distressed and I did not want to leave her. If I
brought her with me, Hana would be sure to recognize her, ask questions about
her. The fewer people to know about this possession, the better. It’s not the
sort of report that Kono should take back to the capital. I am thinking of your
plans for your older daughter’s marriage. I don’t want to give Hana and Zenko
any more weapons to use against you. I don’t trust either of them. I’ve had
some disturbing conversations with my brother about the headship of the Muto
family. He is determined to insist on his right to succeed Kenji; it seems
there are some - I don’t know how many - who are not happy with the idea of a
woman in authority over them.’