Spider, page 14
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He sighed and held his hands out, palms up and open in a gesture of honesty. “We’re safe here. Nobody will overhear us. Shiko thinks I’ve brought you here for an assignation. Will you listen to me? I’ll explain everything.”
I shrugged. “I will drink my tea. You have until the cup is empty to explain your behavior to me. If I’m not satisfied at any point, I will kill you.” I smiled and watched horror cross Masai’s face. “You said that we would not be disturbed here. If I find it necessary to deal with you, then I’ll do it. I can kill you silently and so quickly you will have no chance to defend yourself. Once you are dead, I will scream for Shiko and tell him that you became so over-excited that you had a heart seizure. He will have no reason not to believe me.”
I took a sip of my tea and tilted the bowl toward him, raising my eyebrows questioningly. Clearly he believed me and spoke very quickly.
“Where do you want me to begin?” he asked. I thought about it and decided to start with the basics. He knew me; I did not know him. Establishing who he was would give me the chance to assess him, to decide if I was going to believe anything he said.
“I know your name. But nothing else about you. You seem to be well-known here in Kobe. Who are you?”
“Do you mean, what do I do?” Masai asked cautiously. I nodded. “I am the tayu for the leading bunraku theater here in Kobe.” Despite his visible anxiety, his voice had a note of pride in it. I kept my face still, but at the same time I was pleased. That explained a great deal. The way people acknowledged him. His sense of confidence. And above all, the deep, rich—and very carrying—voice. My tension began to leave me. He was not shinobi, and I could not believe a famous tayu would be anybody’s choice for a secret conspirator.
“I see.”
Masai smiled, his obvious pride in his art overcoming his anxiety. “My bunraku is famous. It’s the best in Kobe. Do you like the bunraku, Keiko?” He asked hopefully.
“Not really,” I said bluntly. His face fell. He would have been even more disappointed if I had told him the truth. Very few things in my life made me afraid, but at one time the bunraku had been one of them.
When I was a small child, Isamu had taken Emiko and me to the bunraku in Edo as a treat. I do not remember why. It may have been a birthday, or perhaps just one of Isamu’s sudden whims. It didn’t matter. Emiko had been to the puppet theater before, and she was delighted that we were going again. I would love it, she assured me.
But I did not. I was terrified.
To me, the bunraku was something out of a nightmare. I was startled to find that the puppet masters were clearly visible during the performance. The puppets themselves were huge, perhaps chest high to a man. And because of their size and weight, it took three puppet masters to control each doll. The whole thing was immensely skillful, I could appreciate that. But each of the puppet masters was dressed entirely in black, and even worse, they wore a black hood over their heads! I could not see their faces at all, and I was immediately convinced that they were all blind and were manipulating the puppets by some dreadful supernatural instruction.
The puppets were even more terrifying. They were so lifelike and manipulated so very naturally, I could not believe they really were just dolls. Isamu increased my fear when he whispered close to my ear, startling me.
“Look at the puppet that’s supposed to be the villain. He looks exactly like our great-grandfather! The tayu has his voice just right as well.”
I was rigid with alarm. How could Isamu and Emiko possibly be entranced by this unnatural production? Although I barely thought it possible, things became worse as the production wore on. After a while, although I knew they were still there, the black-shrouded puppet masters seemed to disappear and the puppets took on life, performing on their own. At every moment, I expected the doll that Isamu said resembled great-grandfather to hop down into the audience and reprimand me for not honoring his spirit.
The tayu provided the final edge to my terror. He provided all of the puppet voices, alternating smoothly between an old woman and a young girl, a peasant boy and a noble. He was, I supposed, superbly talented. But that did nothing to lessen my terror.
I never dared tell Isamu that I had hated the performance. I think he took my silence for awe at the skill of the puppeteers. Emiko, of course, never even bothered to ask me if I had enjoyed it. I was deeply relieved when she decided the bunraku was fine but preferred the kabuki. If Emiko didn’t want to go to the bunraku, then naturally she assumed that I did not either.
“Our bunraku is one of the best anywhere, Keiko.” Masai sounded deeply sad that I didn’t care for his play. I dragged my thoughts back to the present.
“I’m sure it is,” I said briskly. “So, I know who you are and what you do. But that confuses me, Masai. Why would a tayu who is obviously well-known here in Kobe go out of his way to pretend he knows a woman who is a complete stranger to him and has just arrived in the city?”
I observed him carefully, ready to detect any false note in his voice or the way he held himself. A muscle twitching in his cheek or a wrong tone in his voice would be enough. I knew I would have to be very observant; a tayu was as skilled as any actor in the kabuki. Perhaps more so, as he had to switch from character to character in the blink of an eye. Masai would surely be supremely talented in the art of deception.
When he spoke, his words were so surprising to me that I paused with my hand nearly touching my teacup.
“Aisha-san told me to look out for you.”
“Aisha-san?” I frowned, pretending confusion. If this was a trick to take me off my guard, I would not be caught so very easily. “And who is Aisha-san?”
“Aisha-san is now the kannushi of Jokan-Ji temple in Edo.” Unexpectedly, Masai was smiling. “He sent a message to tell me to look out for you. He also warned me that you wouldn’t believe a word I said.”
“And what else did he tell you?” I asked cautiously.
“He said that I was to tell you that Akira has acquired an irezumi tattoo on his chest, just above his heart. Does that make any sense to you?”
I sighed and nodded. “Yes,” I whispered. There was truly no danger here for me. At least, not from Masai. I remembered Akira’s smooth, unblemished body with a shiver of regret. I shook the thought away firmly, there was much I still need to know. Now was not the time to be distracted by pleasant memories. “How did Aisha get a message to you? Tokaido Highway was almost impassable in places. We faced great danger getting through ourselves. And how do you come to know Aisha, anyway?”
“I only got the message the day before yesterday. The man who brought it to me said it had been handed to him by another, who in turn said it had been given to him with instructions to pass it on urgently. I think the message had been passed through many hands, but Aisha-san’s seal was intact.” His voice was awed, as if the very idea of anybody daring to break the old kannushi’s personal seal was nonsense. “It had my name on the front, so I read it immediately, and per Aisha-san’s instructions, I sent messengers to all the likely ryokan on the road into Kobe, warning them to expect you.”
Ah, so that was why our innkeeper had seemed to expect us when we arrived unexpectedly. One question, at least, had been answered.
“How do you come to know Aisha?” I asked curiously. I left off his title purposely. I wanted to impress this big, confident man with how well I knew the venerable kannushi. It seemed to work. He blinked in surprise and I thought respect.
“My father spoke of Aisha-san often, before he died.” It was on the tip of my tongue to remark that he would hardly have spoken of him after he was dead, but that would have been spiteful, so I did not. “I have never met the honorable kannushi, but Father told me that if ever I had word from him, then I was to obey his request as if it came from the shogun himself.”
Once again, I was amazed at the depth of reverence my friend commanded. He had been shinobi in his younger days, before the contemplative life had called him, and it was obvious to me that he had done favors for many people in many places.
“When I see Aisha again, I will tell him you obeyed your father’s wishes.” I bowed my head formally. Masai smiled happily, looking suddenly boyish. I reminded myself sourly that this man was a tayu, one who could persuade a knowledgeable audience that he spoke in the bodies of many characters in a single play. He was obviously a talented actor. I sensed he could be trusted, but at the same time, I doubted he was a serious sort of man. Would he be tempted to gossip? If he was, he would not get the chance to do it twice.
“You are most kind, Keiko. May I ask you a question in return?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“You know who this humble man is. You know how I came to expect you here in Kobe. You know that I am bound to obey any request that comes from Aisha.” He paused, looking at me hopefully. I nodded again, urging him on silently. “But I do not know who you are, Keiko. Nor why it was necessary for you to have undertaken such a long and dangerous journey from Edo to Kobe.”
Twenty-One
Do not try to hurt
A spider. She has eight eyes
To watch your approach
How true is the saying that the gods do not like us humans to be too certain of ourselves! I was so shocked, I almost laughed in Masai’s innocent, interested face. I—or rather the legend that I had become—was so well known in Edo that a kabuki play had been written about the tragedy of my life. I was Lady Keiko, the honorable samurai noblewoman whose family had been slaughtered by insurgents. I was also the woman who—so gossip said—had taken her own life rather than marry the old man her father had chosen for her. As if that wasn’t enough, legends had begun to circulate about an onna-bugeisha who had arisen from the myths of old to right the wrongs of our modern world. I thought it was only a matter of time before clever tongues began to piece all the many faces of Lady Keiko together, but I had not been worried. Only those who were very close to me knew the truth, and I was sure that none of them would ever give away the secret of my identity. Besides, the gossip about me would only last until something more interesting came along.
I found it strange that this man—and probably the whole of Kobe—knew nothing at all of the courageous life and deeds of Lady Keiko. For a moment, I was oddly disappointed. Hot on the heels of that thought followed another idea entirely.
Here, I was unknown. I was free to be whoever I wanted to be. Free to do what I wanted. I smiled warmly at Masai, perhaps too warmly as his expression was suddenly wary.
“Aisha told you nothing at all about me?”
Masai shook his head. “He gave me only your name and instructed me to assist you in any way possible. I assumed from his reference to yakuza tattoos that you were perhaps not quite a lady of high caste.” He paused, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth as he chose his words with care. “That would fit with your clothes, and the fact that you are traveling with only two servants. But it doesn’t feel right to me. You give me the impression that you are someone who is used to being obeyed without question. You seem to me to be a woman who is accustomed to being shown respect.”
I paused before I spoke. I had been so many different people in my near past. Did I now want to return to being samurai lady Keiko? It would be easy enough. I could buy splendid new clothes here. I had some of Emiko’s trinkets, and Soji had written a letter of introduction for me should I need it. Yo had been here to find out about a minor noble. To become myself again was a logical place to begin my search.
Why, then, did I smile at Masai? Lower my voice and lean toward him confidentially, even though I knew we could not be overheard?
“You are a very clever man, Masai. You’re right. I’m not quite a lady. But I am accustomed to being obeyed. Many men fear me, and with just cause.” Well, that was true enough. “Did your father ever explain to you why you had to obey any command that came from Aisha?”
Masai stared at me. His voice was very low when he spoke. “He said that our family owed Aisha a debt of gratitude that no amount of money could ever repay. I never found out what Aisha had done for us, but it was obviously something very important. Something that no ordinary man could have done. I guessed from the mystery that perhaps it was something not quite reputable. From that, I guessed Aisha must have been shinobi when he was a young man, and that he had undertaken a commission for my father.” He spoke the last words in an awed whisper.
I nodded seriously. “I couldn’t say. You understand, there is a question of honor in these things.” For a moment, I thought I had over-done the mystery, but a glance at Masai’s face assured me I had not. Of course, he was a tayu. His whole life was a melodrama. “But if Aisha trusted you, then I can also trust you. Just like he was, I am shinobi.”
Masai breathed out so loudly I realized he had been holding his breath. “Of course!” He spoke loudly and put his hand in front of his mouth to cover his error. I frowned at him and he went on in a very small voice. “Forgive me, I should have understood that at once.”
“Not at all. It is not generally known that women can be shinobi.” A demon of mischief possessed me. I couldn’t resist adding, “Just as most people don’t think women warriors of the samurai exist.”
Masai surprised me. “But of course they do! One of the most popular plays we present in the bunraku has a woman warrior as its heroine. Tomoe Gozen, the great onna-bugeisha. You may have heard of her?” I nodded dumbly, wondering if the coincidence was too great. At once, Akira’s voice whispered in my head, there is no such thing as coincidence. But Masai had yet more to amaze me with. “Of course, the Genpei Wars were fought in this area. The people of Kobe have long memories, and we are proud of our heritage.”
“Really?” I managed to sound no more than politely interested. “I didn’t know that.”
In my heart, I gave thanks that I had decided to let Lady Keiko slumber for a while longer. Rumors of Keiko’s—my—activities might not have reached Kobe yet, but I felt far safer as an anonymous and secretive shinobi.
I realized I had been quiet for a long time when I saw that Masai was watching me eagerly, waiting for me to go on. I needed time to gather my thoughts and asked him a question instead.
“I have never been to Kobe before. Tell me about the place.” It was a command rather than a request. As I had guessed, Masai was proud of his city and eager to tell me about it.
“Well, I daresay it may seem a little small, perhaps even provincial, after Edo.” He paused, clearly waiting for me to deny his words politely. I simply lifted my eyebrows noncommittally. He looked faintly disappointed, and there was a waspish note to his next comment that made me hide a smile. “I know Edo thinks it’s the capital of Japan, but it hasn’t taken that honor yet. The emperor still has his court in Kyoto, and Kobe is no more than a day’s ride away from there. So really, we’re far nearer to the true center of the nation than Edo is.”
“I hadn’t realized that.” And I honestly had not. His vanity smoothed, Masai continued happily.
“Actually, there’s no such place as Kobe. The city is divided into three parts, and each part is ruled by different authorities. The eastern and western parts are ruled by two different domains. But the center, where we are now, is ruled by the Tokugawa shogunate, just as Edo is. So the two towns are really quite similar. And of course, as all three parts are side-by-side, it’s much easier to think of the whole place simply as Kobe.”
He paused to make sure I was following him. I was not only following, I was intrigued. Already, I was sure it was karma that had led Yo here, and karma that had caused me to come here to find him. There were too many links to my background that I had been unaware of. Masai’s words explained why Father and Isamu had journeyed here from time to time. Did our family business have connections in Kobe? Perhaps distant relatives? I was instantly certain that my decision to discard Lady Keiko—at least for the present—was the correct one. How I was going to find Yo without her, I had no idea. But surely it was better to be safe than being caught unawares.
“That’s very interesting, thank you,” I said politely. Masai was watching me avidly, and I gave in. Aisha obviously thought I could trust him, and it appeared at the moment I had no alternative.
“I am here to find my lover.” Masai gave a satisfied sigh and hunched down as if he was a child settling to enjoy a story. A sudden pang of doubt made me speak sharply. “Before I go any further, you do understand how important it is that you tell nobody at all about any of this? Not your wife, or your mother, or your mistress.”
He looked pained. “Of course I understand. My own family’s honor is at stake. If Aisha has given me the chance to repay our debt after all these years, I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Please remember that.” I smiled at him. “You are the only person I know in Kobe. If I find I have been betrayed, then I have very good friends who will ensure that I am avenged.”
To give him his due, Masai did not flinch from my threat. He held his head up when he answered and all traces of theatricality left his voice.
“My mother is dead. I do not have a wife, nor—at the moment—a mistress. If I did, I would swear on all their souls that I would never betray you or my father’s honor.” I was quite touched by his apparent honesty. “Whatever you tell me will go no further.”
“Very well.” I decided I would respond with equal trust. At least for the moment, all my words would be nothing but the truth. “My lover, a shinobi called Yo, came here to Kobe some time ago to fulfill a commission. He told me there was no danger here for him, but he has been gone for far longer than I expected. I knew I was right to worry when he sent a message to his old brother-in-arms, Aisha. The message said he was in great danger and asked that I come to help him.”
