The Tengu's Game of Go (6 page)

He flew as silently as an owl to the stream, picked up the sleeping boy with one hand, called out a farewell, and disappeared above the treetops.

Even Mu, who had come to know Tadashii well over the years, was startled by this abrupt departure. Kinpoge, when she woke the next morning, was inconsolable.

“Where did the tengu take him? Why? When will he come back?” She was fighting back tears.

“It's part of his training.” Mu tried to reassure her. “He will be fine. You remember Tadashii often took me away. Didn't I always come back?”

“You are an adult. You can look after yourself. Take is only a boy,” she argued.

“Take can look after himself very well,” Ima told her. “He has grown up in the weeks he has been here.” He tried to put Kinpoge on his knee to comfort her, but she struggled from his grasp.

“You sent him away to spite me!” she accused her father angrily. “You don't want us to be friends!”

“Maybe I don't, but so what? You are too young to know what is best for you. And anyway, girls should obey their fathers.” Mu tried to maintain his composure. Only Kinpoge could unsettle him so much. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, seeking to enter the state of no attachment that made him the warrior of nothingness. He heard Kinpoge sigh in exasperation and walk away. He heard the clink of Ban's bridle and the slight rush of air as the skull horse took off.

Tadashii is right. If she is to be married the only appropriate bridegroom will be one of her cousins.

A dog began to bark. Ima said, “Someone is coming.”

Mu heard the sounds at the same time: twigs breaking, leaves rustling, the four-beat step of horses. He opened his eyes.

Chika rode into the clearing on a tall brown horse, leading another smaller gray, laden with baskets. He was wearing a green hunting robe with a chrysanthemum crest, a bow on his back, a sword at his hip. Despite his mustache and beard, Mu recognized him at once, though years had passed since the day he had last seen him when Tsunetomo, the one-eyed warrior, had slung his youngest brother, Ku, unconscious, over the back of his horse and had ridden away with Kiku, Kaze, and Chika, leaving Mu destroyed in body and heart.

Mu let the memory reform in his mind, looking at it dispassionately, observing how he had recovered from it and how it had given him the strength he now possessed. At the same time, he studied Chika, seeing the boy he had been, the man he had become. Kiku, he thought, had given him something he needed, some love or approval. He supposed they were now brothers-in-law. Yet there was still an emptiness within him, some unfulfilled longing that was on the point of hardening into bitterness. Nothing would ever satisfy him, no honors or rewards would ever heal the wound dealt to the heart of a child.

It was frustrating to know there was so much he could teach Chika, and to recognize at the same time that Chika was unteachable.

I am thinking like a tengu!
The idea surprised and shocked him.

Ima had walked toward the visitor. Chika dismounted, greeted him briefly, and handed the horses' reins to him. Then he came close to Mu, standing somewhat defiantly in front of him.

Mu acknowledged him with a slight inclination of his head. “What are you doing here, Chika?”

His familiar tone seemed to annoy the other man. Mu could see he had become touchy and proud. Chika glanced around, surveying the clearing and the hut.

“Not much has changed, I see.”

“Not much,” Mu agreed. “And yet, everything.”

“And you?” Chika turned his gaze back to Mu. “You seem to have suffered no lasting harm.”

“I did and I did not.”

“It was I who saved your life, you know. I think I deserve some gratitude. Tsunetomo wanted to kill you.”

Mu bowed. “You were indeed the instrument of Heaven's will.”

“So don't forget, you are indebted to me,” Chika said.

“If there is a debt it will be paid,” Mu replied. “But by the same currency, if there is an offense it will be avenged.”

Chika stared at him blankly.

“What can I do for you?” Mu said.

“Let's sit down and talk,” Chika said. “Perhaps Ima could make us some tea. I've brought leaves with me, if you have none. We import them from Shin. I also have presents for you and your daughter. The gray horse is yours. Ima, tether the horses and unpack the baskets. They are all gifts from Kiku, your brother.”

“I know very well who Kiku is,” Ima muttered under his breath as he set a pot of water to boil on the fire. The tea leaves were of the highest quality, fragrant and sharp-flavored. Among the gifts were green ceramic cups, much finer than anything Mu had ever drunk from.

“Your brother is deeply sorry for what happened,” Chika said, after taking a sip. “He asks you to forgive him. He wants to see you.”

“If he is so sorry, why did he not come himself?” Mu replied. The moment he spoke he regretted his pettiness. He was going to visit Kiku, he knew that: the tengu had said so. There was no need to pretend he needed persuading. On the other hand, it would do no harm to seem reluctant.

“You don't know what Master Kikuta has become, or you wouldn't suggest that,” Chika replied. “His empire is now so great he can't just leave it to travel to the Darkwood.”

“Where is this empire?”

“In Kitakami, on the north sea.”

“From whence he summons his subjects into his presence,” Mu said, with a hint of sarcasm.

“He doesn't consider you his subject, Mu.”

“Then what does he consider me?”

“His brother, whom he wronged.”

“Those were his words?”

“Exactly as he spoke them,” Chika said, with such sincerity Mu knew he was lying.

“I will come with you,” he said finally. “We should meet again, Kiku and I, and Kuro and Ku as well. What about you, Ima? Will you come, too?”

“Someone has to look after the animals,” Ima said, “and keep an eye on the hut. I have no desire to leave the Darkwood and go to Kitakami. Besides, Kiku did not send a horse for me.”

Was he hurt by the oversight? It was impossible to tell. As always, Ima's calm expression gave no hint of his true feelings. Mu remembered what the tengu had said.
Don't feel sorry for him
. He was pierced by an emotion that was not pity, though pity was included in it.
I love him
, he realized.
Is this what brothers feel for each other?

“We'll have to wait for Kinpoge to return,” he said.

“She'll come back soon,” Ima said, smiling. “She took off without eating; she'll be hungry.”

As Ima predicted, Kinpoge appeared not long after. Chika produced presents for her: a robe of cream silk embroidered with celandines and aconites; sweet bean paste; a small bronze mirror into which she gazed in wonder; an exquisite carving of a horse, one foot raised, with a long mane and tail. Mu was astonished at the luxury and wealth that the gifts indicated and also at how well chosen they were, how apt for Kinpoge. He asked who had been responsible.

Chika addressed Kinpoge. “My sister, Kaze, chose them for you. Do you remember her? She knew you when you were a little girl. She always kept a fondness for you. She has many children herself—your cousins. You will meet them in Kitakami.”

“Can they do the things Father and I can do?” Kinpoge asked.

Chika looked at Mu, eyebrows raised.

“She means invisibility, the second self, that sort of thing,” Mu explained.

“Oh, they are all experts in that!” Chika laughed. “You never know who is who or where any of them are.”

Kinpoge whispered to her father, “I do want to meet them, but what about Take? He'll come back, and we won't be here.”

“Ima will tell him where we've gone. Anyway, we don't know how long he will be away with the tengu. We're not going forever, just for a visit. It will make time go faster until you see Take.” He knew he was not being completely truthful with her. The reality was that he hoped she would never meet Take again.

“Can I take Ban?” she asked.

“Ban is going to stay with me,” Ima said. “You are going to ride a real horse, that pretty gray.”

Kinpoge looked at the horse, with shining eyes. It seemed to notice her gaze, raised its head, and whickered to her. She went to it and patted its neck.

“Let's get going,” Chika said. “It's not yet noon. We've several hours of daylight left.”

Kinpoge ran to Ban and gave the skull horse a pat. It quivered all over and its eye sockets seemed to widen. Then she hugged her uncle. Mu embraced Ima, too.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

As they rode away, he saw an old vixen on the edge of the forest. He did not know if she was Kinpoge's mother, Shida. Was it possible that she was still alive? All that day he was aware that she followed them, but the next morning she was gone.

*   *   *

A week later they were in Kitakami. Autumn came early to the northern city and already red leaves were falling and a cold wind blew off the gray sea. Kiku's residence resembled a fortress in its size and defenses, and was high on a slope on the northeast side of the city, with watchtowers that looked out to the north and the south, along the course of the river that linked Lake Kasumi to the sea. Beyond that, far in the distance, lay the capital, Chika said, adding he had never been there. Mu had flown above it, had seen its lord in his sickness, but he did not mention this.

The river cut a narrow valley through mountains that rose sheer from the shoreline, their peaks already white with snow. Its estuary formed the port, the only secure harbor on the Northern Sea. Whoever controlled Kitakami controlled trade with Shin and Silla, and the lands of the barbarians in the north. And, from the first impression of Kiku's home, it was clear to Mu who that was.

The imposing gates on the west side stood open, but he could see how they would close at a moment's notice, making the place impregnable. Guards stood in front of them, acknowledging Chika as they rode in. They all had some deformity: a missing eye, hand, or leg, twisted limbs, scarred features. Yet Mu was aware of hidden abilities that compensated for their handicaps.

Kinpoge had sat behind him most of the way, except when pain from the unfamiliar act of riding forced him to walk for a while, and she took the reins. She liked being in control of the horse and begged him not to lead her but to let her canter after Chika. Now she slid down from the gray's back and was immediately surrounded by a clutch of children of all ages, chattering at her, pelting her with questions.

A man came to lead the horses away, a couple of large dogs at his heels. He smiled shyly at Mu, who realized it was his youngest brother, Ku. They embraced, Ku awkward and seemingly embarrassed.

“You can talk later,” Chika said. “I'm sure Ku is very busy and Kiku is waiting for you.”

Mu raised his eyebrows, but Ku merely bowed deferentially without meeting his gaze. It was obvious that, as the tengu had told him, Kiku had made Ku his servant.

Chika urged him forward.

“Stay with your cousins,” he told Kinpoge, who looked as if she was going to follow them. “They'll take you to meet your aunt Kaze. You'll meet your uncles later.”

Apart from the men at the gate, Mu's sharp hearing told him others were concealed in the guardhouse, and when they were shown into Kiku's presence, he knew there were more, in alcoves and behind curtains around the room.

He is afraid I'll attack him!
The idea amused him. He did not often need the cane to walk with, but he had brought it with him and now leaned on it, a little more than was necessary.

From the veranda they entered an anteroom where screen doors slid open silently to allow them into the main hall. It looked out over the cliffs to the sea, and the restless surge of the waves below was a constant background noise. On this bright autumn day the sea was calm, its color deep indigo. In the distance, several white-fringed islands could be seen. One had the red bird-perch gate of a shrine; the others seemed uninhabited except by seabirds. Twisted pines had been carved into grotesque shapes by the northeasterly wind. Mu tried to imagine what it would be like in winter, when snow covered the town and gales lashed the fortress.

The room was spacious, sparsely furnished, the floor dark polished cedar, the shutters cypress, their inner surfaces carved with scenes of life in Kitakami. One side was covered with woven wall hangings of exotic landscapes, dragons, and sea serpents.

Kiku sat at the far end, his back to the sea. The brightness of the light made it hard to see his face. On his right was his brother Kuro, on his left the warrior Tsunetomo, who had tied Mu up and left him crippled. Both Kuro and Tsunetomo had mustaches and beards, unkempt like wild men, but Kiku was clean shaven. Mu studied all three of them, glad to realize he felt nothing, no anger, no resentment.

Chika had entered the room after him and now went down on one knee, bowing his head low. Mu remained standing. To his surprise, both Kiku and Tsunetomo placed their hands palms down on the matting and, leaning forward, touched their foreheads to the floor. After a moment's hesitation, Kuro followed them.

Chika shuffled forward and indicated a silk cushion. Mu sat down, cross-legged. Kiku raised his head. Tsunetomo and Kuro stayed low.

“Welcome, brother,” Kiku said. His voice had changed, had become deeper and more cultured, yet the same hard edge was still there and still menacing. His eyes were gleaming, but at the same time expressionless. His skin had lost its copper tone and was pale, as though he rarely went outside. “I am very glad to see you again. I believe our old friend Chika has conveyed to you my deep regret for the past.”

Mu wondered how genuine he was and how much of it was part of some deep, elaborate scheme. What were his true intentions? At any moment, his brother might make a signal and the unseen guards would emerge and fall on him. He felt his right hand edge closer to the cane he had placed beside him. They might not be expecting to fight a man trained by a tengu.