The Tengu's Game of Go (19 page)

Sesshin's song came back to him:
When the deer's child calls / He will awaken.

“Shikanoko will come here,” Aritomo said. “And I will be ready for him. I have no more to say to you now. You will have to move away from the capital. I will inform you where that is to be. Let your son know this: his position is upheld by me. He may be the Emperor, but I hold all the power.”

Dusk was falling as he left. He saw the werehawk keeping watch on the roof and could not resist the impulse to listen to the prisoners, hungry to know all he could of Yoshimori before he put an end to his life. He told his men to go on to the gate and went silently to the outside of the cell.

At first there was only silence, then he heard one, not Yoshimori, the other one, whose name he had been told was something ridiculous like Sarumaru, say, “It's true, isn't it? You really are the Emperor?”

“No!” Yoshimori said. “It's all a mistake.”

“Then why does the lute play for you?” Saru demanded.

“I don't know,” Yoshimori said quietly.

“Don't lie to me,” the other exclaimed. “Not after all we have been to each other. I was there on the boat when we pulled Yayoi and Take from the water. It played then. And that crazy bird, Kon, that's why it follows you, isn't it? Where did you come from?”

“I hardly remember,” Yoshimori said. “I know a young woman took me away from a burning palace and told me to pretend I was someone else. But before that, everything is confused. I don't know if it is a memory or a dream. I was carried everywhere—I wanted to run, but the women wouldn't let me. My father was addressed as Prince, my mother as Princess, but my real life, the one I do remember, only began shortly before I met you in the Darkwood.”

“None of it matters since they are going to kill us,” Saru said.

“Let's pray together,” Yoshimori whispered, and he began the words of a prayer Aritomo had never heard before. He shuffled closer to the door.

“Someone's coming!” Saru cried. “Are they going to take us out and execute us now?”

Aritomo froze. After a long silence he heard Yoshimori say quietly, “The Secret One is with us, just as the priest always told us. He will never forsake us.”

“But if you are the Emperor,” Saru said, sniffing as if through tears, “you are descended from the gods. You are divine!”

“I don't dare think that about myself,” Yoshimori replied.

“Why are we forbidden to kill when all around us the beasts kill each other, men slaughter them in their hundreds, like in the great hunt we witnessed, and think nothing of taking human life? Even animals fight for their lives. If we were not forbidden to fight we could defend ourselves. A cornered rat has more courage than we have.”

“All living beings fear death,” Yoshimori said. “That's why we should not inflict it on any of them. I suppose you are sorry that you found me in the forest? I am more sorry than I can say, for causing this suffering to you and all our friends.”

“I would die to save your life,” Saru said. “You know that, don't you? Didn't I pretend to be you, when we were first seized? I would even kill to save you.”

“Better to leave it all in the hands of the Secret One,” Yoshimori said.

“I am not sure I believe in that god any longer,” Saru said in an anguish-filled voice.

“At least Kai is safe,” Yoshi said very quietly. “That must be part of his plan, for if she had not been carrying our child she would have come with us. I don't fear my own death, but I dread hers.”

The silence deepened over the temple. The musicians had quietened. No one sang; no one screamed. It was almost raining. A dank drizzle filled the air, and the eaves dripped with moisture. The bird called from the roof, startling Aritomo.

“That's Kon!” Saru said suddenly. “It's still around. Why doesn't it go for help?”

“I don't think anyone can help us now,” Yoshimori said.

Aritomo waited for a long time, but neither of them spoke again. He returned to his palace deeply disturbed by all he had heard. The bird might go for help? Help from whom? Kiyoyori's daughter? Shikanoko? Yoshimori and the other acrobats belonged to some hitherto unknown sect? He had an unborn child? Was Aritomo going to have to scour the Eight Islands all over again to find another supposed heir to the throne?

*   *   *

Messengers came that night, two of them, faces ashen with fear. Aritomo had the reputation of summarily executing bearers of bad news. There had been a sea battle. The Kakizuki had been forewarned. Arinori's fleet had sailed into a trap, carried by the tide into the waiting warships. He was dead and most of his men drowned, the ships sent to the bottom of the Encircled Sea. Shortly after, others came from the opposite direction, from the east. Yukikuni no Takauji was in open rebellion and was laying siege to Minatogura.

“The pretender, Yoshimori, dies tomorrow,” Aritomo declared. Vomit rose in his throat and he tried to hold it down but could not. Pain tore through him. For a moment he thought savagely that the messengers' deaths would ease it, but then he reminded himself he would need every man he had. The Kakizuki would certainly attempt to return to the capital. He must prepare an army to counteract and surprise them. But whom could he trust, now that Arinori and Masachika were gone? Someone had betrayed his plans. There must be spies everywhere. He groaned loudly.

His attendants tried to persuade him to rest, but he could not lie down with any ease. He was dressed and ready before dawn, and as he paced the floor waiting for daybreak he heard the steady splash of water from the eaves, a sound so unfamiliar for a moment he did not recognize it.

The Emperor is in the capital and it is raining.

 

18

HINA

Hina stood beside Tan in front of the west gate at Matsutani. It was the only part of the building still intact; the house, the pavilions, the stables and other outbuildings were smouldering ruins, charred wood, ash that was once thatch.

In their niche, among the carvings, the eyes gleamed. She had not seen them since she had left them at Nishimi, when she had fled all those years ago with Take.

“They are Sesshin's eyes, Father,” she murmured to Kiyoyori's spirit. She had fallen into the habit of telling him everything, and even when she did not put her thoughts into words, she felt he understood them. “Do you remember when we found them on the ground after the earthquake? They make you see yourself as you really are, not as you wish you were.”

Ibara rode up behind her and dismounted. She said to Hina, “It is done. Masachika is dead.”

The horse shuddered slightly and bowed its head three times.

“So soon after my stepmother died,” Hina said. “In the end they were not parted for long. May they find peace together and be reborn into a better life.”

“You are more forgiving than me, Lady Hina. I don't know enough about her, but I hope he rots in Hell!”

Ibara's breath caught in her throat and then she said, “Revenge is not as sweet as I thought it would be. Why should I feel regret and pity now, for all his mistakes and my own?”

“It is the eyes,” Hina said. “Under their gaze, you see yourself without the armor of your self-regard, and in that light you can only feel regret, remorse, and pity.”

Tan bowed his head and nuzzled her shoulder.

It was late afternoon, the sky was covered in clouds, and the air felt damp as though rain might fall at any moment. Nagatomo and Eisei had fashioned torches from burning wood.

Shikanoko called to them, “We must ride on. If the spirits have returned to the gateposts, let them remain there. Nothing is left for them to destroy. Aritomo and Yoshimori are more than a day ahead of us. We have no time to waste.”

Hina thought she heard a whisper.

“Shikanoko is here!”

“I heard his voice, didn't you?”

“I did! I heard his voice!”

Hina wondered aloud, “Should I bring the eyes?” There was nothing left for them to keep watch over and it seemed fitting that they should be with the Kudzu Vine Treasure Store and the medicine stone that she carried in her bag.

Tan nodded vigorously.

“I don't have anything to put them in,” Hina said.

“Here.” Ibara handed her a small bamboo box, empty apart from some scarlet maple leaves. “I like to pick the leaves up, sometimes, I don't know why. Shake them out if you want to.”

“No,” Hina replied. “They will make a fine mat to put the eyes on.”

She vaulted onto Tan's back to reach them, and as she lifted them down and placed them carefully in the box she heard a voice say, more loudly, “Who's that?”

“It must be Kiyoyori's daughter!”

“Lady! Lady! You are back!”

“Welcome home!”

“Is Kiyoyori with her?”

“I feel he is, don't you?”

Shikanoko, a werehawk on each shoulder, rode up to the gate, calling her name. “Lady Hina, are you ready?”

“Shikanoko!” the first voice cried.

“I knew it was you,” said the second.

“You have both been misbehaving again,” Shikanoko said sternly. “You have destroyed the very place you were meant to guard. I should shut you up in a rock for a thousand years!”

“We didn't mean to.”

“Everything was so out of kilter and amiss.”

“Yes, amiss and awry and out of kilter.”

“The Emperor was here.”

“They were going to kill him.”

“So we saved his life, you see.”

“Then I forgive you and I bid you farewell,” Shikanoko said. “Come, Lady Hina, Ibara.”

Hina sat on Tan's back and put the bamboo box in her bag. Ibara leaped onto her horse and called to Mu to join her.

“Don't leave us here!” one of the spirits cried.

“No, don't leave us here. Take us with you.”

“You belong here. Your master, Sesshin, placed you here,” Shikanoko said.

“There is nothing to guard here anymore.”

“We want to come with you.”

“How will you travel?” Shikanoko asked. “You cannot just waft around disembodied for that length of time. I would need to put you in something.”

“I want to go in your sword.”

“No, I want to go in the sword.”

“I said it first, you choose something else.”

“I'll go in the bow.”

“No!” Shikanoko said. “I don't want you in either my sword or my bow. I would never be able to rely on either of them again.”

“We will behave.”

“We promise.”

“We will protect you. Your sword will be the strongest.”

“Your bow, the most accurate.”

“Oh, very well,” Shikanoko said. “I don't have time to argue now.”

He spoke a word of power. The air shimmered. Both Jato and Kodama took on a sudden glow as if they were lit from within. It faded slowly.

“And no chattering,” Shikanoko said, as he clicked his tongue to Nyorin to move forward.

“We'll be completely silent.”

“As silent as the grave.”

*   *   *

They had ridden a little way when Shikanoko called to Ibara to ride alongside Nyorin so he could talk to Mu.

“You said Kiku had offered to help us. We'll need him, but we have no way of getting in touch with him in time.”

“We'll ride with your message,” Ibara said eagerly.

“It takes days to get to Kitakami and then back to the capital,” Shikanoko replied.

“I wish I could summon up a tengu or fly myself,” said Mu. “What about those birds? Can you send them?”

“They are young and untrained. I don't think they are reliable.” The birds croaked indignantly at him, one in each ear. “They are eager to go, but even if they find their way, Kiku might not understand them. Worse, he might kill them, as you and he did Gessho's.”

“Send a sign with them; send the little fawn I gave you. Kiku will know the birds come from you. I'm sure he will be able to talk to them.”

“I suppose we must try it.” Shika took the carved fawn from the breast of his robe, pulled out a thread from the material, and tied the tiny figure to the larger bird's leg.

“Go,” he said. “Fly north. I will guide you with my mind.”

As the birds fluttered away he said to Mu, “I have never done this before. I don't even know if it is possible.”

*   *   *

Most of the way they rode in single file, with Nyorin leading, but Tan also liked to be in front, and when the track widened, he pushed his way forward to canter alongside his father.

Despite being side by side, Shikanoko and Hina still hardly spoke. Sometimes she felt there was a depth of understanding between them, at other times he seemed remote and distant. Once or twice she caught him looking at her, with a kind of longing that made her heart jump with hope, but then he seemed to withdraw within himself, assuming his cold, distant demeanor.

As they came closer to Miyako they realized the roads were heavily guarded. Shikanoko decided to ride through the mountains, making their journey longer. Six days after they left Matsutani, they came out of the woods and saw the capital spread out below them. From that distance it looked as it always did, giving no sign that the Emperor was present or that he was alive.

The air was damp and cool. Around them the trees were in full color, made more radiant by the dim light. They were not far from the eastern bank of the river, hidden by the thick woods that covered the slope of the mountain. Across the river, which had shrunk to a trickle during the years of drought, could be seen the five-storied pagoda of Ryusonji and the cedar-shingled roofs of its great halls. The temple bell sounded the sunset hour, its sonorous tone echoing from the surrounding hills and followed by other bells throughout the city.

Despite the hour and the rain, the riverbank swarmed with people. Their clothes were brightly colored, glowing in the dusk. Some curious trick of the evening light brought out all the red and orange hues.