Shike, p.7
Shike, page 7
To ease the pain he forced himself to consider the immediate problem. "Moko, you know Heian Kyo. Go down there and try to find out what has happened. Find the house of Prince Sasaki no Horigawa and make sure all is well with him. See whether it will be safe for us to bring the Lady Taniko into the city. Then meet us here."
The cross-eyed carpenter came back after the midday meal. He shook his head sadly. "The beautiful streets of Heian Kyo have become a battleground for samurai. Such things did not occur when I was a child."
"Tell me exactly what has happened, Moko-san."
Moko waved his hands in distress. "It was all over nothing. A street-corner brawl between Takashi and Muratomo samurai. But hundreds joined in. Then bands of samurai took to attacking people's houses. The Takashi samurai burned the houses of Muratomo families and killed their servants. The Muratomo did the same thing to the Takashi."
"What of Prince Horigawa?"
"It was hard to find out anything about him, shike. If you ask too many questions, people look upon you as a suspicious person, and suspicious persons don't live long in Heian Kyo today. The Takashi have put a heavy guard around the prince's house, though. He is safe enough."
Jebu recalled that Taniko's family was a branch of the Takashi. "Is Lady Taniko's family in any danger?"
"Shike, everyone who lives in Heian Kyo is in danger today. But the Shima mansion is not among those I heard were burned."
Jebu felt a momentary panic as he realized he was uncertain what to do next. The only thing about this journey he had never questioned was its unchanging destination.
Rely on nothing under heaven.
Now he had to decide whether to take Taniko into a city torn apart by warring samurai or whether to seek uncertain refuge somewhere in these hills. Perhaps he should defy her father and the Order and flee with her in the hope that they might find a life together in hiding somewhere. Just as his father fled his people.
He looked at smouldering Heian Kyo. Whatever he decided might bring swift death to himself and Taniko.
Chapter Seven
Taniko joined Jebu at the edge of the cliff. Looking around quickly to make sure she was not observed, she took his hand and smiled up at him.
"If you are trying to decide what we should do, please let me help. As you know now, I prefer to make up my own mind."
Jebu squeezed her hand with such passion that she winced, but she did not pull away from him. "What is your wish?"
"That we go forward. We will all go together to the nearest gate. You will wait there with the women and me, and you will send Moko and the other porter to my uncle ryuichi. Moko will tell my uncle to send a carriage for me, so I can enter the capital in proper style. It is too bad that Moko has to make two trips into the city, but if you had asked me the first time you sent him, this is what I would have told you."
They descended from the mountain and returned to the Tokaido. This close to the capital, it was a broad, well-travelled highway. Here on the city's east side, buildings had spread beyond the walls. Temples, mansions and humbler dwellings encroached on the rice land surrounding the capital.
The party passed a park surrounded by a stone wall twice the height of a man. Within it stood three fortified towers, taller than any buildings Jebu had ever seen. Red banners flew just below the protective dolphin sculptures on the peaked roofs of the towers.
"That is the headquarters of the Takashi clan," said Moko. "It is called the Rokuhara. Sogamori lives there with his sons and thousands of samurai. They have added many buildings since I saw it last."
Now they rode over a long wooden span, which Moko called the Gojo Bridge, arching over the Kamo River. The bridge and the gateway to which it led were a continuation of Gojo Avenue, one of the ten principal east-west thoroughfares of Heian Kyo.
As they approached the city's walls, Jebu saw that many of the large stones had fallen out of the pounded earth core of the ramparts which, unprotected, were eroding. He remembered what Taitaro had said about Heian Kyo's having seen better days.
Sending Moko on through the Gojo gate, Taniko and Jebu and their party settled down in a field outside the city wall. Jebu stood guard atop a large stone, his back resolutely turned to Taniko. There was nothing more that could be said between them. Anguish lay like a crushing weight on his chest.
The sun had nearly set when Moko returned leading a handsome ox-drawn carriage, its roof thatched with palm leaves. Five samurai walked beside it. Clearly her Uncle Ryuichi was not as miserly as Taniko's father.
Taniko and her two maids rode in the carriage. The samurai kept their hands on their sword hilts, their eyes darting warily from side to side.
Moko walked solemnly beside Jebu, pulling his wheezing, baggage-laden horse. He had promised Jebu and Taniko that he would remain with her as part of her household.
"I will be the link between you," he said.
At the Gojo gate the party identified themselves to a lieutenant of the Imperial police, a nervous, pale man carrying an ivory baton. He looked incapable of dealing with so much as a band of mischievous boys. Smiling politely at the Shima family samurai, the police officer waved the party through.
"It's a wonder that man was at his post at all," said Taniko's silvery voice through the orange-tinted blinds of her carriage.
To ease the pain of the imminent parting from Taniko, Jebu focused his attention on the sights and sounds of the capital. He had never seen so many people in his life; crowds filled the wide avenue like a river about to overflow its banks. People on foot dodged samurai on horseback and ox-carts piled high with bales and boxes. Every so often handsomely dressed men carrying small sticks would push through the throngs shouting, "Make way!" and then, slowly, an ox-drawn carriage, like the one Taniko was riding in or even grander, would roll through the cleared pathway. People would bow or peer curiously into the carriage, trying to see the great lord or lady within; usually the passenger's silhouette was visible through the screened sides. Frequently these passengers would let the long sleeves of their many-layered costumes trail out through the rear doorways. Jebu heard knowledgeable comments from the crowd, not only identifying the carriage riders but commenting critically on their choice and matching of colours. The people of Heian Kyo talked much and rapidly, seemed to run rather than walk, and often talked and ran at the same time.
Gojo Avenue was lined with willows, the leaves on their trailing branches turning to autumn gold. The mansions along the avenue were surrounded by low walls of white stone, a token hindrance to intruders. But, a sign of troubled times, many of the mansions had new, high bamboo palisades built around them. Others looked abandoned, as if their owners had sought safer places to live. Each estate consisted of numerous one-storey buildings connected by covered corridors and surrounded by gravelled courtyards and landscaped gardens.
Twice they passed mansions that had been burned during the night. The grounds of one were completely deserted. Nothing was left but smouldering ruins. Burnt trees stood like black poles.
The second burnt mansion was surrounded by samurai, who greeted Taniko's escort familiarly. Servants combed through the ashes for valuables and loaded whatever they could find in an ox-cart.
"That was the home of a noble who supports the Takashi," one of the samurai with Jebu explained. "The Muratomo dogs burned it. Tonight we will burn some Muratomo mansions."
Stupid, thought Jebu. People spent years of their lives building these homes and the beautiful things that went into them. Centuries had gone into the making of this lovely city. All to be destroyed in one night by some idiot with a torch. What prize could be worth such a loss?
Taniko's uncle, Ryuichi, stood on the veranda of the main house of the Shima family's Heian Kyo residence, waiting to greet his niece. He resembled his older brother, Bokuden, but was stouter in body and rounder in face, as if life in the capital had softened him. The look he gave Taniko as she stepped down from her carriage was kindly. His manner reassured Jebu as he prepared himself to leave her.
Covering her face modestly with her fan, Taniko said, "Uncle, this Zinja monk single-handedly killed a band of three samurai who were threatening to kidnap me. He faithfully escorted me all the way from Kamakura and brought me safe to your door. I hope you will reward him appropriately."
"How awful that my lovely niece should have been in such danger," Ryuichi exclaimed. "With respect to my elder brother, I knew the Tokaido was dangerous and I believed you should have had a large escort of samurai. But, thanks to the prowess of this monk, you are safe. I will speak to him in a moment. Taniko-san, it is not proper for you to display yourself in the open air before a group of men, even when the occasion is important. You must learn the manners of the capital, my child. Come into our house. Your aunt, Chogao-san, will make you welcome and comfortable."
Without a backward look at Jebu, Taniko was gone. Ryuichi followed her. Jebu turned towards the street. He did not dare look after Taniko. What was between them must remain secret for ever. He felt a hand on his arm. It was Moko. Jebu looked into the crossed eyes and found them bright with tears.
A moment later Ryuichi returned to the veranda. "You have done well, shike. You have earned the gratitude of the Shima family. How may we reward you?"
Jebu could imagine Lord Bokuden's rage if he knew his brother was offering a reward. "The Order has been paid for my services, my lord. I may not accept a reward for myself."
"Nothing at all?"
Then Jebu remembered. "There is one thing. I took a sword from a samurai I had to kill, protecting Lady Taniko. It is in her baggage. I would like to keep it as-as a memento of the journey."
Beaming, Ryuichi clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course. And you shall have that horse as well. You may turn it over to your Order if you wish, but at least you won't leave here on foot."
Smiling to himself at the thought of Lord Bokuden's annoyance, Jebu accepted.
A row of white stones, intended to represent the Shima trading fleet, crossed the centre of the pond in the mansion garden. Jebu sat cross-legged looking at the women's pavilion on the north side of the garden. The pavilion stood on pilings half the height of a man that kept it well off the slightly damp ground. Taniko was in there, probably being prepared for her first encounter with Prince Horigawa.
Silently Moko stepped down from the veranda of the women's building, bringing the sword and scabbard. They bowed to each other as Jebu took the sword, and Moko turned away, wiping his eyes.
At the eastern gateway of the mansion a servant was holding Hollyhock for Jebu. He opened his travelling case to pack the samurai sword. Under the lid of the case there was a piece of folded, red-tinted paper. Jebu's heartbeat speeded up. He opened the paper and read the poem in Taniko's hand.
The autumn leaves fall,
But the pine tree's green lives on.
In a spasm of anguish Jebu's hand crushed the poem. He wanted neither poems nor pine trees. He wanted the living woman behind the Shima walls.
He smoothed out the poem, folded it again and tucked it into his tunic. He mounted Hollyhock, sadness weighing down his shoulders. He waved to Moko, who had followed him to the gate.
Slowly, feeling that he was riding away from life itself, he rode out of Heian Kyo.
Chapter Eight
Prince Sasaki no Horigawa made his first courtship visit to Taniko the very night of her arrival in Heian Kyo. Taniko's Aunt Chogao warned her to expect him and helped her bathe and dress in her finest gown and jewels. She washed and combed the softly glowing black hair that hung to Taniko's waist. All the while Taniko protested, trying not to cry and feeling as ill from the loss of Jebu as if one of her hands had been chopped off.
"I have been travelling for twenty days. I'm worn out. Can't he give me one night to rest before he sees me?"
Aunt Chogao shrugged. "He told your uncle that he is extremely busy with matters of state. He is an Imperial adviser, don't forget. Besides, he has waited a long time to meet you. You are lucky to have such an eager lover."
Taniko made a face. Her aunt added, "Of course, he is lucky to get such a beautiful young woman. When he sees you, I'm sure he'll be even more eager."
How will I ever get through this? Taniko wondered. I was sickened before at the thought of spending the rest of my life with the old bloodsucker. But before I met Jebu, I never knew the kind of beauty that could exist between a man and a woman. Now that I do know, how can I give my life to something that is so much less?
For hours after she had dressed, Taniko, her aunt and the two maids waited for Horigawa's visit. Taniko insisted on writing in her pillow book, despite her aunt's protest that she might get ink stains on her fingers or her Chinese jacket. Taniko declared that she had never splashed ink on anything in her life. She offered to stop writing if her aunt would bring her a book to read, but the few books in the mansion, it seemed, were in Ryuichi's quarters, and her uncle was not to be disturbed. So Taniko wrote by candlelight.
At last there was a commotion in the garden. Chogao scurried to the blinds and peered out. "It's him. It's him," she whispered and waved the maids out of the room. She set a tall screen of state with flowered curtains in front of Taniko. For centuries it had been the custom at the capital for women of noble birth to remain concealed at all times from men other than their husbands or fathers. They received gentleman callers from behind portable screens of state. So significant a barrier was the screen of state that a man who got past it usually had no further difficulty in gaining his desire with the lady behind the screen.
Chogao snatched the pillow book out of Taniko's hand and shoved it into the pillow drawer, seized the ink stone, ink stick and brush, and hurried out of the room.
"Pretend to be asleep," came her voice through the sliding door.
There was a scratching outside on the veranda, and suddenly the blinds were raised and a short man with a powder-whitened face stepped into the room. His eyes stood out like two shiny black beans. He ducked his head to keep his tall black lacquered hat of office from being knocked askew.
Ignoring her aunt's advice about feigning sleep, Taniko peered through the screen of state at her future husband. Prince Horigawa's face was small and square, reminding Taniko of a grasshopper's head. A wisp of black beard decorated his bony chin. He fanned himself briskly with a black and white fan, as if climbing into the room had been a great exertion.
"Are you back there?" he said, directing his dry, raspy voice at the screen of state. Yet he spoke only slightly above a whisper. Not very gallant language for a prince come courting, Taniko thought. The sight of him made her heart sink. He was as unattractive as she had imagined. In his beady eyes there was nothing but nastiness and calculation.
"I am here, Your Highness," she said softly.
"Ah, very good, my dear. Let me join you behind your screen, where I can see you and make myself more comfortable." Without waiting for her reply, he skipped around the screen, seating himself beside her and seizing her hand. She had to restrain herself from pulling free of his clawlike grip. Had her aunt left them alone together? Taniko wondered.
The prince patted her hand. "Do not be frightened by my impetuosity, my dear," he whispered and grinned. At first it seemed to her that he was toothless, then she saw that his teeth had been dyed black in the Court manner. His grin faded as, still holding her hand tightly, he stared at her. Starting with her face and hair, his eyes travelled over her jacket and her many layers of skirts and dresses. He pursed his lips as he considered her selection of ornaments and her matching of colours.
"You appear to be as satisfactory as the matchmaker claimed," he said. He gestured at a jar of sake Taniko's aunt had left standing over a charcoal warmer, with two cups carefully placed on either side of it. Taniko poured sake, first for him, then for herself. Perhaps sake would help.
His cold fingertips scratched the nape of her neck. She could not help herself. She shuddered.
"The trapped bird trembles," he murmured. He drew a deep breath and threw himself upon her.
Taniko gave a little shriek as he clawed at her jacket, his face reddening. He seemed almost frantic as he plunged his hands under her skirts, trying to undo his gold-splashed black robe at the same time. Taniko had seen sparrows mating, and this flurried, furious assault reminded her of that.
"Your Highness," she gasped, out of breath. "This haste is inelegant." Recalling one of her mother's bedchamber books she added, "Permit me to unfold the pleasures of my body to you in more leisurely fashion, I beg you. To an inexperienced maiden, the charms of so handsome and distinguished a lord are irresistible, but do not press me so quickly."
"Your notion of the arts of the bedchamber are countrified," Horigawa panted. Inexorably he peeled away the layers of her clothing. In the flickering candlelight she caught a glimpse of his aroused body. It sickened her. She squeezed her eyes shut.
She reminded herself that she should not resist him. Custom demanded that she let the prince have his way. Keeping her eyes shut, she tried to relax. She remembered how, during their night together, Jebu had told her many things about the Zinja and the arts they practised. He said they could take their minds out of their bodies and go on long mental journeys, leaving their physical selves behind. She made herself think of the great white mountain, Fuji-san, that she had passed with Jebu at the beginning of their journey from Kamakura. This ugly little prince had doubtless never seen Mount Fuji.
He was hurting her. He had no consideration for her feelings, no tenderness for her virginity. From his grunting and his hard, sharp movements she sensed that he was aware only of his own need for relief.
