The Harsh Cry of the Heron (40 page)

Both Don Carlo and
Don Joao came, with Madaren, to the meeting, which was held in the main room of
the house, looking out over the garden, where the stream and the waterfalls
splashed and the red and gold carp swam lazily in the pools, leaping
occasionally for spring insects. Takeo would have preferred to receive them in
the castle with elaborate ceremony and a greater display of wealth, but he felt
Kaede should not be put to the stress of going there, and they were both of the
opinion that she should be present to help to explain exactly what both parties
meant.

It was a difficult
task. The foreigners were more importunate than they had been previously. They
were tired of being confined to Hagi, impatient to start real trade and, though
they did not state it so baldly, to start making money. Madaren was made more
nervous by Takeo’s presence, seemed to dread offending him, yet at the same
time to want to impress him. He himself was less than comfortable, suspecting
that the foreigners, for all their protestations of respect and friendship,
looked down on him, knowing that Madaren was his sister - did they know? Had
she told them? Kaede had said they knew he was born into the Hidden . . . The
interpretation slowed the discussions down; the afternoon dragged on.

He asked them to
state clearly what they hoped to be granted within the Three Countries, and Don
Joao explained that they hoped to establish regular trade. He praised the
beautiful products, the silk, lacquerware, mother-of-pearl, and the celadon and
porcelain imported from Shin. All of these, he said, were much sought after and
highly prized in his own distant country. In return he could offer silver,
glassware, cloth from Tenjiku, aromatic woods and spices, and naturally
firearms.

Takeo replied that
all of this was perfectly acceptable: the only condition being that trade was
to be conducted solely through the port of Hofu and under the supervision of
his own officials, and that firearms were to be imported only with his or his
wife’s permission.

The foreigners
exchanged glances when this was translated to them, and Don Joao replied, ‘It
is customary among our people to be allowed to travel and trade freely wherever
they choose.’

Takeo said, ‘Maybe
some day that will be possible. We know that you can pay well with silver, but
if too much silver comes into our country, the value of everything must go
down. We must protect our own people, and take things slowly. If trade with you
turns out to be profitable to us, we will expand it.’

‘On these terms it
may not be to our profit,’ Don Joao argued. ‘In which case we will leave
altogether.’

‘That may be your
decision,’ Takeo agreed politely, knowing inwardly that it was most unlikely.

Don Carlo then raised
the issue of religion, and asked if they would be allowed to build a temple of
their own in either Hofu or Hagi, and if the local people might join them in
their worship of Deus.

‘Our people are
allowed to worship as they please,’ Takeo replied. ‘There is no need for a
special building. We have provided you with accommodation. You may use a room
there. But I advise you to be discreet. Prejudices still exist, and the
practice of your religion must remain a private affair. It must not be allowed
to disrupt the harmony of society.’

‘We had hoped Lord
Otori would recognize ours as the one true religion,’ Don Carlo said, and Takeo
thought he heard a deeper fervency come into Madaren’s voice as she translated.

He smiled, as if
dismissing the idea as too absurd even to discuss. ‘There is no such thing,’ he
replied, and saw that his words disturbed them.

‘You should return to
Hofu,’ he said, thinking he would write to Taku. ‘I will arrange a ship with
Terada Fumio - he will accompany you. I will be away most of the summer, and my
wife will be fully occupied with our child. There is no reason for you to stay
in Hagi.’

‘I will miss Lady
Otori’s company,’ Don Carlo said. ‘She has been both pupil and teacher, and
excellent as both.’

Kaede spoke to him in
his own language; Takeo marvelled at her fluency in the strange sounds.

‘I thanked him and
said he too had been diligent as a teacher, and hoped he would continue to
learn from us,’ she said aside to Takeo.

‘He prefers to teach
rather than be a pupil, I think,’ he whispered, not wanting Madaren to hear
him.

‘There are many
things in which he is convinced he knows the truth,’ Kaede replied as quietly.

‘But where is Lord
Otori going for so long, so soon after the birth of your child?’ Don Joao
inquired.

The whole city knew:
there was no reason to keep it from them. ‘I have to visit the Emperor.’

When this was
translated, it seemed to cause the foreigners some consternation. They
questioned Madaren carefully, glancing towards Takeo with surprise.

‘What are they
saying?’ He leaned towards Kaede and spoke in her ear.

‘They did not know
the Emperor existed,’ she murmured. ‘They had assumed you were what they call
the king.’

‘Of the Eight
Islands?’

‘They don’t know
about the Eight Islands - they thought the Three Countries were all there was.’

Madaren said,
hesitantly, ‘Forgive me, but they would like to know if they would be permitted
to accompany Lord Otori to the capital.’

‘Are they mad?’ He
added quickly, ‘Don’t translate that! Tell them these things have to be
arranged months in advance. It is not possible at this time.’

Don Joao insisted. ‘We
are the representatives of the king of our country. It is only right that we
should be allowed to present our credentials to the ruler of this land, if it
is not, as we had assumed, Lord Otori.’

Don Carlo was more
diplomatic. ‘Perhaps we should, in the first instance, send letters and gifts.
Perhaps Lord Otori would be our ambassador.’

‘It’s a possibility,’
Takeo conceded, inwardly determining to do no such thing. However, Don Joao and
Don Carlo had to content themselves with this vague agreement, and after
accepting some refreshments from Haruka they made their farewells, promising to
send the letters and presents before Takeo left.

‘Remind them how
opulent these gifts must be,’ Takeo told Madaren, for usually what the
foreigners considered adequate fell far short of what was customary. He
reflected with pleasure, tinged with some regret, on the impression the kirin
was bound to make. Kaede had ordered the preparation of bolts of beautiful
silk, and they were already packed in soft paper wrappings along with the
finest examples of pottery, including tea bowls, and caddies made of gold and
black lacquer. She had also chosen a landscape painting by Sesshu. Shigeko
would take horses from Maruyama and scrolls of calligraphy in gold leaf, iron
tea kettles and lamp stands, all designed to honour the Emperor and display the
wealth and standing of the Otori, the extent of their trade, the riches of
their realm. He doubted anything the foreigners could provide would be worth
carrying as far as the capital, even to give to some under-minister.

He had stepped out
into the garden as the foreigners retreated, bowing in their stiff, awkward
way, rather than accompanying them to the gate, and did not notice for a moment
that Madaren had come after him. It angered him, for he thought he had made it
clear that he did not wish to be approached by her, yet he realized that she
had been associating closely with his wife all winter and had gained a certain
familiarity with the household. He in his turn felt he had certain obligations
towards her; he regretted his own coolness, that he did not feel more affection
for her, at the same time thinking fleetingly, gratefully, that if anyone saw
them they would assume only that she spoke to him as an interpreter, not as his
relative.

She called his name;
he turned to her, and when she seemed unable to continue said, trying to sound
kind, ‘Tell me what I can do for you? Do you have any needs that are not met?
Do you need money?’

She shook her head.

‘Shall I arrange a
marriage for you? I will find a suitable shopkeeper or merchant. You will have
your own establishment, your own family eventually.’

‘I do not want any of
those things,’ she replied. ‘Don Joao needs me. I cannot leave him.’

He thought she might
thank him, and was surprised when she did not. Instead she spoke abruptly,
awkwardly. ‘There is one thing I desire above everything. Something only you
can give me.’

He raised his
eyebrows slightly and waited for her to continue.

‘Tomasu,’ she said,
tears starting in her eyes. ‘I know you have not completely turned from God.
Tell me that you are still a believer.’

‘I am not a believer,’
he said calmly. ‘I meant what I told you just now: there is no one true
religion.’

‘When you spoke those
terrible words, God sent me a vision.’ The tears were pouring down her face.
There was no doubt of her distress or her earnestness. ‘I saw you burning in
Hell. The flames were devouring you. That is what awaits you after death,
unless you come back to God.’

He remembered the
revelation that had come to him after the terrible poison-fever that had taken
him to the very threshold of the next world. He would believe nothing, so that
his people might believe whatever they chose. He would never abandon that
stance.

‘Madaren,’ he said
gently. ‘You must not speak to me of these things. I, forbid you ever to
approach me in this way again.’

‘But your eternal
life is at stake; your soul. It is my duty to try to save you. Do you think I
do this lightly? Look how I am shaking! I am terrified to say these words to
you. But I must!’

‘My life is here, in
this world,’ he said. He made a gesture at the garden, in all its spring
beauty. ‘Is this not enough? This world into which we are born, and in which we
die, to return, body and soul, into the great cycle, the seasons of life and
death? This is wonder and miracle enough.’

‘But God made the
world,’ she said.

‘No, it makes itself;
it is far greater than you think.’

‘It cannot be greater
than God.’

‘God, the gods, all
our beliefs are created by humans,’ he said, ‘far smaller than this world that
we live in the midst of.’ He was no longer angry with her, but he could see no
reason why he was detained here by her, continuing this pointless discussion.

‘Your masters are
waiting for you. You had better return to them. And I forbid you to disclose
anything about my past to them. I think you realize by now that that past is
closed. I have cut myself off from it. My circumstances make it impossible for
me to return. You have enjoyed my protection and I will continue to extend it
to you, but it is not unconditional.’

He felt chilled,
despite the warm day, by his own words. What did he mean? What did he intend to
do with her? Execute her? He remembered, as he did almost every day, the death,
at his hands, of Jo-An, the outcaste who had also seen himself as a messenger
of the Secret God. No matter how deeply he regretted the act, he knew that he
would do it again with ho more hesitation. He had killed his past, his
childhood beliefs, with Jo-An, and none of them could be resurrected.

Madaren also was
subdued by his speech. ‘Lord Otori.’ She bowed to the ground as if recalling
her true place in his world, not his sister but lower than the maids of his
household - like Haruka, who had been waiting half-hidden on the veranda, and
now, as he turned to go inside, stepped into the garden.

‘Is everything all
right, Lord Takeo?’

‘The interpreter had
some questions,’ he said. ‘Then she seemed to become unwell. Make sure she is
recovered, and see that she leaves as soon as possible.’

Terada Fumio had
spent the winter in Hagi with his wife and children. Shortly after the meeting
with the foreigners Takeo went to their house on the other side of the bay. The
sheltered gardens, warmed by the hot springs surrounding the volcano, were
already bright with azaleas and peonies, and other more exotic plants that
Fumio brought back for Eriko from distant islands and remote kingdoms: orchids,
lilies and roses.

‘You should come with
me one day,’ Fumio said as they strolled through the garden and he related the
provenance and history of each plant. ‘You have never left the Three Countries.’

‘I don’t need to,
when you bring the world to me,’ Takeo replied. ‘But one day I would like to -
if I ever retire or abdicate.’

‘Are you considering
such a thing?’ Fumio studied him, his lively eyes scanning his face.

‘We will see what
happens in Miyako. I hope above all to resolve matters without fighting. Saga
Hideki has proposed a contest - my daughter is determined to be my stand-in -
she and everyone else are already convinced that the outcome will be in my
favour.’

‘You will wager the
Three Countries on one single contest? Better by far to prepare for war!’

‘As we decided last
year, we will prepare for war. It will take a month at least for me to get to
the capital. In that time Kahei will assemble our armies on the Eastern border.
I will abide by the contest, win or lose, but on certain conditions which I
will discuss with Saga. Our forces are there only if my conditions are not met,
or if they break faith with us.’