Shike, page 11
Go-Shirakawa settled himself rock-like on his dais. "The Zinja are murderers masquerading as monks. Be warned: to lay hands on me is to insult the very flesh of She Who Shines in the Heavens. I will not go."
Jebu heard a cry behind him. He whirled. A courtier brandishing a dagger was leaping at him. Jebu grabbed the man's wrist, tripped him and threw him to the floor. He knelt on the courtier's back and used the man's own knife to cut his throat. He stood back, wiped the knife on the dying man's robe, and stuck the blade in his belt, stepping away from the widening pool of blood on the polished floor.
"Indeed, these are unsettled times, Holiness."
Go-Shirakawa looked thoughtful. "The red of his blood contrasts with the pale green silk of his robe. Clearly if such things as this can happen at my very feet I am not safe here. You may escort me to the Imperial Palace."
Jebu preceded Go-Shirakawa through the doorway of his palace. Outside, the pitiful courtier guards, who knew next to nothing about swordplay, lay scattered on the ground, so many butchered corpses.
The helmeted samurai prostrated themselves when Go-Shirakawa in his orange Buddhist priest's robe appeared on the steps of the pavilion. Jebu snapped his fingers and the ox-drawn carriage was brought around to the steps. A samurai knelt and presented his back to the sacred feet as Go-Shirakawa climbed into the carriage. Another warrior slid the door shut, and the Retired Emperor was alone with his meditations.
"Mount up," Jebu ordered. "Eorm a circle around the carriage." They had not lost a single man. That pleased him.
The last person to leave the Sanjo palace was a samurai with a bloody sword in one hand and a torch in the other.
"No!" Jebu called, even as the man's arm snapped forward and the torch flew through the air. Flames leaped up to engulf the palace.
Domei had given strict orders that the taking of Go-Shirakawa be smooth and quiet. But no discipline seemed strong enough to contain the samurai lust for destruction. The samurai, thought Jebu angrily, why were they such brutes? Supposedly in arms to serve and protect the empire, they were reducing it to ruins.
Go-Shirakawa had said something about this being an age when the teachings of Buddha were forgotten. Jebu had heard other Buddhist priests speak on the same theme, calling these times the Latter Days of the Law. The Buddha, they said, had predicted that the day would come when his laws would be broken and the world sink into chaos. It did seem, thought Jebu as the bonfire of the Sanjo palace roared into the sky, that everything old, everything beautiful, everything wise was gradually vanishing. Perhaps, indeed, these were the Latter Days of the Law.
Chapter Eleven
At sundown on the day the Muratomo seized control of the Imperial Palace, Horigawa and a small contingent of bodyguards stopped at the Shima residence. Horigawa sent for Taniko.
"I got your message. You are a dutiful wife. But by the time it reached me I had already learned of the Muratomo coup. How did you escape from the palace?"
"I was able to slip out through the north-east gate before Domei's men had complete control of the palace. The palace grounds and buildings are so complicated; they're hard to guard and easy to escape through if you know your way around."
What Taniko did not add was that a frightened Akimi had awakened her before dawn. "You are in danger. You must leave the palace now, by the north-east gate. It isn't guarded yet."
"What's happening, Akimi-san?"
"Domei is about to seize the palace and take the Emperor and Empress prisoner."
"Why? He must be mad. It's his duty to protect the Emperor."
"He's been abused for too long. He wants to take control of the government and avenge himself on his enemies. His men are ready to move at sunrise. This is your last chance to get out. Hurry and dress."
Taniko's mind was racing. "It's my duty to stay here with the Empress."
"No one will hurt the Empress. But you are Horigawa's wife. Even though he likes you, Domei will have to use you as a hostage to try to get Horigawa. We know that Horigawa won't put himself in Domei's hands to save you. That means Domei may have to hurt you. You must get out now."
"I must warn the Empress."
Akimi's beautiful face was grave: "I won't let you do that. I'll turn you over to Domei's men."
"Do you approve of what Domei is doing?"
"Approve? I have loved him for twelve years. I'm part of his family. My son is a Muratomo. I saw Domei's father beheaded. I watched the Takashi seize every opportunity to insult him, to grind him into the dirt. Yes, I approve. If he did not fight back he would not deserve to be chief of the clan."
"Yes, I see." Taniko was dressing quickly with Akimi's help. "Of course he must try to win back all that his family has lost. But to seize the Emperor is unheard of. What if Domei can't hold the palace? The Takashi have tens of thousands of men over at the Rokuhara. I don't trust this way of doing things. It's too simple and too violent. It makes Domei look like a rebel."
Tears glittered in Akimi's large eyes. "I know, Taniko, I know. I'm terrified for all of us, for Domei, for my son, for Domei's other sons. He's wild-desperate. He has to do something. He isn't cunning, as the Takashi are. He thinks he can cut through the net they've woven around him with a single sword stroke." She sighed. "There's no turning back now. It's in motion. Our karma will decide what happens."
Hurriedly, wrapped in a heavy cloak, Taniko followed Akimi out of the Wisteria Hall. In the distance, before the Hall of Military Virtues, she could see dark, square masses of men gathered. The clink of weapons and armour carried clearly through the cold, still, pre-dawn air. She followed Akimi along a winding path through the twisted trees planted in the north-east corner of the palace grounds. They came to an ox-drawn carriage held by a servant. The women said goodbye and Taniko got into the carriage. The guards at the north-east gate were apparently not involved in the plot. They didn't question Taniko and let her through. Soon afterwards she was at the Shima mansion.
Now Horigawa said, "As soon as Domei feels he has the palace under control he'll send men after me, and I don't intend to give him the pleasure of catching me. The Muratomo may attempt to take you as a hostage. Take your carriage and follow me to Daidoji as quickly as you can. We'll be safe there until Sogamori returns to the capital."
"There's no need for me to take a carriage," said Taniko. "I can ride as well as you. Perhaps better."
"Thank you for reminding me that I married a rustic wife," said Horigawa.
Taniko looked at him levelly. "You married a samurai wife."
Heavily cloaked against the cold of the last month of the year, Horigawa, Taniko and their party, riding without stopping, took half the night to reach Horigawa's country estate, the manor called Daidoji. The samurai and peasants on the estate had heard nothing of the events in the city and were amazed to see their lord and his lady suddenly appear at the gate.
"Dig a pit deep enough to bury a man behind the guards' quarters," Horigawa ordered the steward, "and cut a length of bamboo that will reach to the bottom. Post a lookout above the pass. I want to know at once if armed men ride this way." Without another word to Taniko or anyone else, he disappeared into his quarters. A moment later Taniko heard the steward's angry voice commanding servants to take lanterns and shovels down to the guards' quarters and begin to dig.
It was the hour of the ox, the blackest part of the night. Taniko went to her chamber in the women's house, tended by sleepy maidservants she had come to know on -previous visits to the manor. She had a charcoal brazier brought in to warm the room and wrapped herself in as many robes and quilts as she could find. But she could not sleep. She lit an oil lamp and settled down with The Tale of the Hollow Tree given her over a year ago by Akimi.
Strange, she thought, that of all the women she had met at Court her closest friend should be Akimi, Domei's mistress. It had begun with the incident of the dog, and after that, as they talked, she had found she could share thoughts with Akimi as she had never been able to do with another woman. Although Taniko would never have said so, the Empress was a rather dull person, the other women of the Court even more so. Taniko's career as a lady-in-waiting would have been unbearable without Akimi.
And now, thought Taniko, I am in flight from Domei with Akimi's help, and comforting myself with a book Akimi gave me.
It was two years since her marriage to Horigawa. She found the prince as repulsive as ever, but his conjugal visits were, happily, infre quent. He seemed to want a wife mainly because a man in his position was expected to have one or more wives. While it must be bad karma that had afflicted her with a husband like Horigawa, she had learned not to consider herself uniquely unfortunate. Many other women had unappealing husbands. Perhaps most did. Rebirth as a woman was probably a punishment for misdeeds in a previous life.
Still, there was much pleasure in her life. Living in the Imperial Palace most of the time, serving the Empress, she felt close to the centre of things, where she had always wanted to be. The letters she translated for Horigawa brought her news of the fabled land of China. Horigawa's close ties with the Takashi enabled her to watch Sogamori's rise to power and also afforded occasional glimpses of the splendid Kiyosi. All in all, it was an exciting life for a young woman of fifteen.
There was, of course, the horrid possibility of her becoming pregnant by Horigawa. But she faithfully followed the precautions her mother had taught her, and anyway, she doubted that Horigawa's seed had any life in it. Neither of his earlier wives, she learned, had ever conceived.
One thing was missing, though. In dreams and in waking reveries there would often appear a very tall young man with red hair and strange, grey eyes. In a way, the memory was sweet. It was good to know that once in her life she had held the strong body of such a man in her arms. But it was unbearably sad to think that she would never know such joy again.
If only she had fully given herself to Jebu. Horigawa had hardly seemed to notice or care whether she was a virgin. Now she might never know what it was like to have such a beautiful man inside her. And Jebu had seemed to know so much about a woman's body. What exquisite pleasures he might have given her if she had permitted him the final intimacy. What marvellous memories she might have now.
When she thought of what she had lost, apparently for ever, tears filled her eyes.
The river that flowed through the hills above the manor was frozen, and she missed the sounds of the waterfall and the mill wheel, which usually furnished a background for her reading. Instead, from a distance rose the ringing sound of shovels biting into hard, cold earth. She and Horigawa and the others on the estate were simply waiting, waiting for the Muratomo. She wondered what he meant the pit for. Was he going to kill himself?
Reading by lamplight tired her eyes, and she blew out the lamp and tried to sleep. She lay awake on her futon, frightened, wondering what danger was coming their way, wondering what was happening in Heian Kyo. Was Jebu involved? Thinking of Jebu, she imagined herself in his arms. She thought about him and talked with him in her mind. Calmed by the fantasy, she fell asleep.
The lookout, half-dead from a freezing night spent in the hills, rode into the yard shortly after sunrise. A party of armed men was on the way. Horigawa emerged from his hall wearing an old black kimono. Summoning Taniko, he headed for the guard building. Behind the building, where it could not be seen from the main houses or the gateway to the estate, two men had dug a deep, square hole. Puzzled, Taniko watched as Horigawa ordered a ladder lowered into the pit and then climbed down.
Looking up from the pit at his bewildered servants, Horigawa said, "Any of you who reveals my whereabouts will wish you had never been born." He glared up at Taniko. "Any of you." Taniko felt her face grow hot with anger. The offensive old toad.
He lay down in the pit. Taniko peered over the edge. He had the bamboo tube in his hand, holding it to his mouth. He drew a white silk cloth from his kimono sleeve and spread it over his face.
"This is madness," Taniko said.
"It is a device others have used. I am certain they will never find me. Eill the pit. Bury me."
The pit was filled in long before the Muratomo riders came to the gate. Eollowing Taniko's directions, men spread gravel over the surface to hide the freshly turned earth. Only the tip of the breathing tube showed above the gravel, unnoticeable unless one were aware of it.
We have no way of knowing whether the other end is in his mouth or not, thought Taniko. He may be dying even now. She suppressed the thrill of hope that thought gave her. She wanted, as best she could, to do her duty to her husband.
The head of the guards came up to her. "A party of twenty-four samurai is approaching," he said. "If they are Muratomo, shall we fight them?"
"That would be an utter waste," said Taniko. "His Highness has hidden himself so that it will not be necessary for you to fight to protect him. Resistance would only tell them that he must be somewhere on the manor. Let them in, be hospitable. Send their leader to my quarters."
Going to the women's building, she ordered her maidservants to arrange the wall screens to create a spacious audience chamber. At one end of the room they set a screen of state whose curtains were decorated with a design of snow-covered mountains.
She heard horses and cries in the courtyard, and a moment later a warrior's heavy tread on the steps of the women's house. A young man's voice spoke to her maidservants.
A moment later the samurai leader strode into Taniko's chamber on stockinged feet. He made a low bow. "Am I in the presence of Lady Shima no Taniko, wife of Prince Sasaki no Horigawa?"
The blinds and screens around the room were pulled tight to keep out the winter air, and little light came into the room from outside. Taniko had arranged the lamps so that the light was on the intruder, leaving her screen and herself in the shadows. Through tiny apertures between the screen's hangings she studied the Muratomo leader. In the palace, on the Empress's business, it was occasionally permissible for her to be seen by men. In her own home, and especially meeting with an invader, she was required to shield herself behind a screen of state.
The samurai was a boy. His face was smooth. His forehead, surmounted by the samurai topknot, was high. When he was fully grown, she thought, his face would be strong. As yet it had a boy's smoothness.
"I do not know who you are," said Taniko, "but you appear by your dress and bearing to be a well-born warrior. Your arrival is sudden and surprising to us, but we will make you welcome as best we can."
His eyes were alert, suspicious, unfriendly.
"I am Muratomo no Hideyori, son of Muratomo no Domei, captain of the palace guards and chieftain a the Muratomo clan. I have come at my father's order, seeking His Highness, your husband."
To kill him, thought Taniko. She said, "The prince would certainly wish to meet you, were he here. Alas, he left us last night. His destination, he said, was a temple on the northern shore of Lake Biwa."
"He began a journey at night?"
"So must you have, to reach Daidoji from the capital by morning. In His Highness's case, a diviner warned him that north would be an unlucky direction for him today." The nobility of Heian Kyo frequently planned their movements on the basis of lucky and unlucky directions.
"Staying at home might have been unlucky for him as well," said Hideyori. "In spite of what you tell me, I feel I must seek the prince here at Daidoji, in the hope that I may present him with my father's greetings. Do I have your permission to look for him?"
"Of course, Hideyori-san," said Taniko. "You will have every assistance from His Highness's servants."
Hideyori bowed, turned and left her. He had his father's commanding manner and good looks, she thought. A few moments later she heard his voice shouting orders. She moved two lamps closer to where she sat, settled down again with The Tale of the Hollow Tree, and waited, wondering what it must be like for Horigawa in his pit and how long he could live under the weight of all that earth. It did not matter that she loathed the man. He was her husband, and it was her duty to do everything in her power to preserve his life.
After a time Hideyori returned. Taniko quickly withdrew behind her screen. "You are correct, my lady. Prince Horigawa appears to be gone. If you will permit me now to search the women's house, I will accept what you've said, that Prince Horigawa is not here, and I will leave you in peace."
"Surely you would not distress my ladies by searching their quarters. Prince Horigawa is a man of noble birth. He would not hide among women."
The young Muratomo looked at her gravely through the screen. "You are of a samurai family, my lady. Do you give me your word as a samurai that Prince Horigawa is not here?"
"He is not in the women's quarters. You have my word."
"Then I will leave your ladies undisturbed if you will grant me one favour."
"What is that?"
"I have heard that the wife of Prince Horigawa is one of the most beautiful women in the capital. I would like to see for myself. Come out from behind that screen and let me look at you. Then I will go."
He was bold, for one so young. She studied him through the screen. His eyes were a fathomless black. He was staring back, trying to see past the hangings, but his expression was one of unabashed interest, with nothing corrupt, nothing cruel about it. It was not the look she had seen in Sogamori's eyes when Lady Akimi was mentioned, or for that matter when the Takashi chieftain looked at her. There was something straightforward and likeable about the Muratomo men.
"Very well." Daintily, drawing her kimono, patterned with red flowers, more closely about her, and taking an ivory fan from her sleeve and opening it, she stepped out from behind the screen and stood before Hideyori. She stood partially turned away from him with her eyes downcast. She held her fan so as not to hide her face, but to shield and reveal it at the same time.
There was a very long silence. At last, Taniko could stand it no longer. She looked up and allowed her eyes to meet his. He sighed. "Well?" she said with a touch of impatience.
