Yamada Monogatori: The Emperor in Shadow (34 page)

“Highness, a reasonable person would conclude Kenji and I—well, mostly myself—are simply bad luck.”

She laughed, but my relief and her laughter were both short-lived.

“I believe we have discussed the subject of your luck before now,” she said. “Just as we have discussed the subject of whether or not I am a fool. Have you changed your opinion on the latter?”

“No,” I said. “I have not.”

She drew the veil aside. I could now plainly see the anger on her face. “Lord Yamada, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me your being here tonight was a coincidence.”

I wanted very much to do that, but I could not. Even if I thought I could be convincing, even if she did not know I was lying, I could not do it. I did not wish to lie to her.

“It was not a coincidence, Tagako-hime. I suspected there would be an attack on both occasions. Before you ask, no, I am not at liberty to say why. You do have the right to know, I do not dispute this, but there are other people involved, and more than one life will be at stake if I say more now than I know for certain.”

She slowly pulled the curtain closed. “I would not wish to be the cause of anyone’s misfortune, but I must ask this one thing—do you think,” she said, “there will come a time when the danger is past and you will be able and willing to tell me why I was marked for death?”

“I believe so.”

“Then I will trust you, so long as you understand one day I
will
want an answer.”

“If the answer is mine to give, I promise I will give it.”

She seemed to resign herself, though with the
kicho
back in place, it was hard to tell. “I will be content for the time being, though, Master Kenji, I really must insist you stop grinning now. It is a bit unnerving, and under the circumstances, most inappropriate.”

“Forgive me, Highness, I was merely appreciating the fact you’ve gotten the better of Lord Yamada. I do not see that often.”

“Nonsense. You see it every day,” I said.

“Yes, but this time someone
else
did it.”

Princess Tagako laughed again, only this time it did last for a little while. The hour was late, and we took our leave soon after. I know I should have returned directly to my house in the third ward, but I was not ready. Kenji, however, very much was ready.

“At my age, late night excursions into the city do not have quite the appeal for me which they once did.”

“Only because you’ve gotten lazy and you prefer your ‘excursions’ to come to you.”

Kenji shrugged. “A wise man saves his strength.”

Despite his protests, I had Ujiyasu escort Kenji. Partly to annoy him, but mostly because I knew the streets were never perfectly safe and his priestly status would not dissuade everyone, human or otherwise. Morofusa continued with me, since I would not be persuaded to stop.

“Yamada-sama, where are we going?”

“To the bridge over the Kamo River at the fourth avenue.”

Morofusa glanced up. “There’s still not enough moon to be worth seeing at the moment, Lord Yamada.”

“True, but we are not going for moon-viewing. I wish to view something else. It will not take long, I promise.”

“That is not my concern,” Morofusa said, suppressing a yawn. “Alone, I may not be adequate if we run into trouble.”

“But you are not alone, Morofusa-san. I am with you.”

He sighed and fell into line a few steps off to my right side. “This way I can cover three sides, Yamada-sama. If anyone attacks from your left, do me the courtesy of staying alive until I can reach you.”

“Fair enough.”

It was a quiet evening. We saw no people at all and only one or two small
youkai
and one moth-demon, all of who seemed intent on their own business and showed no inclination to bother us, I was pleased to see. Despite Morofusa’s misgivings, we reached the Shijo Bridge without incident. We walked to the very center, where I looked out over the water instead of up at the moon.

“What are you looking for?”

“The ghosts. They should be out around now.”

Morfusa frowned, and he followed my gaze down to the level of the water. They were very faint at first, no more than wisps, easily mistaken for mist rising from the water, but I knew better. Soon they had resolved into graceful shapes, sometimes in pairs, often alone, the images of men and women. Not for the first time I wondered if there was anything really left of the people they had once been, or if they were only memories, preserved on the water. There was no way to know. They could not be approached. I had tried, once or twice in my youth, wading into the river where the water was shallow or by boat. They would simply disappear, only to coalesce and reform once I had gone away. It was my earliest understanding that some things were not knowable but simply
were
and had to be accepted on their own terms.

Honestly, this annoyed the blazing devils out of me at the time. It still did, for all that I understood it was true.

“Why are they here?” Morofusa asked. “Do they see us?”

“No one really knows and probably not. Or if they do see us, it is of no concern . . . to them.”

“This is what you came here to see?”

“Yes.”

Morofusa thought for a moment. “Yamada-sama, may I ask why?”

“Because one theory is these are the ghosts of men and women who died for love.”

Morofusa kept his gaze on the water. “That is very sad.”

“Is it really?”

He looked at me. “You do not think so?”

“Everyone dies and usually not for their own reasons or at a time of their own choosing. No, Morofusa-san, it would only be sad if they died without first learning how to live. I think there was a time when love might have killed me, too. Yet I remain, because I know I am still learning what it means to live. Once I thought I knew, but I was wrong. As for love, it can be a reason for dying. It can also be a reason for living. The one thing it is not is a substitute for either.”

“Then why, if I may ask, did you come here?”

“Because it was the first time in a while I’ve felt the need to remind myself of the things I believe to be true. I place my certainties against the reality of these memories, and decide how the balance turns.”

“So how does the balance turn tonight?”

I smiled. “I am ready to go home.”

It was not an answer, but Morofusa seemed happy enough with it. Or perhaps he only wanted to get away from the ghosts. I envied his certainty that he would leave them at the river. Try as I might, I never could.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Kenji found me on the northern veranda, pretending to read an ancient book of poetry. Mostly I was admiring the calligraphy rather than what it said. The poetry I judged mediocre—I had written enough of the same sort to recognize it, but the script was exquisite.

“It has been almost a week,” Kenji said, “and we have done absolutely nothing.”

I put the scroll aside. “Not true—we have visited Princess Tagako three times and consulted with Toshihide-san three times.”

“You have not searched for Prince Kanemore. You have not attempted to trick information from either Takamasa or Hiroshi, and you know they are keeping secrets.”

“So am I. Besides, I am not doing nothing. I am waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For proof the
onmyōji
who put those
shikigami
in Prince Kanemore’s compound is who I think it is.”

“And you believe this ‘proof’ will come to you of its own accord?”

“Of course not. It is being sent for. Yet it is far away. It might come today, it might come in another week. I am being patient, even as you try said patience.”

“How about the said suspicion? Are you still not ready to share?”

I sighed. “Kenji, let me ask
you
something: would you tell your best friend a secret if you thought this secret might cost him his life?”

He looked at me. “You are serious.”

“When have you accused me of being otherwise? Too serious, too miserable, too . . . well, almost everything. Except cheerful and happy. You know, I really have been guilty of those two very things, from time to time.”

Kenji glared. “This is more than simply a fey mood. You
know
.”

“I know nothing. I suspect many things. This is why I am waiting. I am tired of suspecting, tired of conjecture. I
want
to know.”

Kenji sat down beside me. “So now I must place myself in the same position as Princess Tagako—will you ever tell me this secret?”

I considered. “When I
do
know, I mean really
know
, it will likely become necessary for you to know as well, but when that happens, please remember—you did ask.”

Kenji looked grim. “I will take the chance.”

“So be it. But until then, I am waiting and so are you.”

“Surely there is something else?”

“Other than keeping poor Tagako’s mind off the reality of someone trying to kill her? Not a thing. The less we are seen to do, the better.”

“Because we are being watched?”

“Constantly, by Takamasa and likely Hiroshi as well, possibly others. The thing is we do not know
why
, any more than we know why Princess Tagako’s life is in danger. We are waiting for information that will answer one question and one question only. That answer, I believe, will lead us to the others. Until then, we are in a boat floating in an angry sea, and it is in our interest not to unbalance the load.”

“I do not like this waiting,” Kenji said finally.

“Nor I, nor is our approval of the situation necessary.”

Just then Hiroshi appeared around the east wing of the building. “Yamada-sama, you have a visitor.”

Kenji glanced at me, but I moved my head just slightly to the right, which he understood as “no.” He remained silent.

“Who is it, Hiroshi-kun?”

“A noble lady. She says she is an old friend of yours.”

“See that our guest is made welcome in the audience hall. I will be there shortly.”

When Hiroshi was out of earshot, Kenji leaned closer. “Is this . . . ?”

“I have no idea who this could be.”

Kenji made a face. “Likely an assassin brought in by whoever controls your household.”

“Hiroshi-kun has one great disadvantage as a spy—his face shows what he feels. Did you not notice? He was just as surprised as we were by the appearance of this visitor.”

“He certainly seemed excited,” Kenji admitted, however grudgingly. “Let us go see.”

We made our way to the audience hall. By protocol I should have greeted our guest from the dais, but I had never gotten into the habit, and when I saw who our guest was, I would have felt extremely silly doing so.

“Lady Kuzunoha! This is an unexpected pleasure.”

She was in her full human form, of course, wearing a kimono of seven layers in fall colors green and red. She wore a traveling hat with attached veil that partially obscured her face for propriety’s sake, but there was no doubt as to her identity. She kneeled on a cushion while a servant brought tea, and Kenji and I joined her there. The day was warm enough that the sliding doors to the hall had been left partially open, and beyond them I could see her alleged escort, though I was certain they were not real. Yoshitsune was apparently not privy to this knowledge, as he kept a watchful eye on them.

Her smile was tentative but easily seen through the veil. “You may not be as welcoming when I tell you why I am here.”

“Then let us discuss this among ourselves.” I dismissed the servants and spoke again only when I was certain we would not be overheard. “Now then, what is this about?”

“I must confess now that in our first meeting at Kamakura I did not tell you everything. The message I was to deliver was actually in two parts, not one. I am here now to deliver the second.”

“This, too, was at Prince Kanemore’s request, yes?”

“As you surmised at that time as well, yes.” She produced a folded and sealed piece of
washi
from within two of the layers of her kimono. “I think you will recognize Kanemore-ō’s hand.”

I broke the seal and read what Kanemore had written there:

Old Friend,

If you are reading this now, then events have proceeded perhaps better than you know. Well done. I will see you soon, but until then I know you have questions. All I can say for now is to go see Lady Hoshiko. She knows one of the answers, even though she does not know she knows, so be gentle.

—Kanemore

I looked at Lady Kuzunoha. “You do not know what it is in this letter, do you?”

“Certainly not. It was sealed when he gave it to me, and I have delivered it to you in the same condition.”

I smiled. “It was not meant as an accusation. I mean only that it would be very dangerous for another person if this letter fell into the hands of . . . well, let us just say an ‘unintended recipient.’ It was a sign of his trust in you that it was placed in your charge.”

She sighed delicately and sipped her tea. Normally a noblewoman would not take refreshment in the presence of men not her family or husband, but Kuzunoha was a fox demon and well aware of how silly such customs were. “For a human being, Prince Kanemore is not a bad sort, present company included. I still find it a little amusing that he places his trust in one such as me, but then I cannot say he was wrong. I apologize for concealing the existence of this second letter from you, but Kanemore was adamant. As for the letter, I will not ask what was in it. I truly do not wish to know.”

“I think this best, for your sake as much as anyone else’s. I am not angry, however there is one thing I would ask of you, if you are willing.”

She looked at me. “Perhaps. What is it, Yamada-sama?”

“If Kanemore’s message was in two parts, then something would have had to trigger the second part—an elapsed time or a specific event. May I ask what it was?”

Her smile was pure mischief, and again I was reminded I was speaking to a fox demon, not a human woman at all. “I am not certain I should tell you, yet Prince Kanemore did not specifically forbid it. I find that a little odd, don’t you? He is normally a meticulous sort. I think he shares that trait with his sister.”