Shike, page 30
"I see." Governor Liu stood and beckoned to Yukio and Jebu, drawing them to a corner behind a gilded pillar and leaving his pikeman to watch the envoy.
In a low voice he said, "This commander who offers mercy is only second-in-command of the army outside. The tarkhan who leads all the Mongols in this region is in Szechwan conferring with their Emperor Mangu. The temporary commander has made many errors by Mongol standards. In the battle at the Green Belt Bridge his orders were delayed, and too many warriors died. Discipline in the camp is poor. The movements of his army are behind schedule. Now he fears that the tarkhan will punish him for his mistakes. He wants to take the city without a fight and present it to the tarkhan as a great conquest."
"How do you know so much about what the Mongols are thinking, Your Excellency?" Jebu asked.
"I have agents who are able to get in and out of their camp with ease. I know also that even though you suffered great losses at the Green Belt Bridge, the Mongol commander fears you. You are strange to him, and you seem fiercer than the Chinese he has encountered. And he doesn't know how few of you there really are."
"Your Excellency wishes us to fight on?" Yukio asked.
"I do."
Yukio nodded. "We will teach them that the men of the Sunrise Land are not dwarfs but dragons."
Jebu was pleased that Yukio did not promise victory. Perhaps he had begun to absorb some of the Zinja teachings.
Governor Liu returned to his throne. "We reject the terms offered us. We will fight on against the barbarian invaders who would steal our lands, our cities and our lives." He motioned his guards to escort the ambassador back to the south gate.
The grizzled tuman-bashi started to turn away, then swung around and said, "You will regret your stubbornness. You should surrender now, while you have the chance. There will be no mercy for Kweilin when our tarkhan, Arghun Baghadur, resumes command."
Chapter Six
From the pillow book of Shima Taniko:
The barbarians who have invaded southern China are said to smell so bad that the very stench of their approach forces their foes to retreat. They are described as hideous creatures, hunchbacked and twisted of limb. I have even been told that they bite off the breasts of women. Somehow, I suspect that those terrifying reports are spread to excuse the absence of Chinese victories. Jebu is sprung from the barbarians, and surely he is not twisted of limb. And he bites women only with the best of intentions.
The Chinese also have many strange notions about us. They believe that we eat human flesh and worship gods with the heads of animals. It makes one wonder if the things they say about the Mongols are any more true.
From one of the Chinese serving-maids I have heard the tale of a band of warriors from across the China Sea, short-statured and ferocious, who came to fight in the Sung Emperor's service. That could only be Muratomo no Yukio's men, and Jebu must be with them. They are now at a city called Kweilin, further from here than the Sacred Islands. I thought if I came here I would be closer to Jebu. We are in the same country, but this one country is as big as twenty countries. I am told they were in Linan a few months ago. Lord of Boundless Light, will I ever meet him again?
-Eighth Month, twenty-sixth day
YEAR OF THE HORSE
At its southern end, the brick-paved Imperial Way-which was to Linan what Redbird Avenue was to Heian Kyo-curved past the Imperial Palace and the base of Phoenix Hill. Aristocrats and rich merchants built their palaces on Phoenix Hill, and it was here Horigawa took up residence. The gateway of his mansion led into a formal courtyard surrounded by three imposing pavilions with blue and gold pillars. The window of Taniko's room on the second storey of the women's pavilion looked towards a lagoon covered with lily pads. The weeping willows and peach trees around it were green. At home this would have been the beginning of autumn, but here in Linan there was no autumn.
Horigawa's negotiations with officials in the Chinese Court dragged on for months. He had arrived in Linan with the names of a few people who might be useful-mostly merchants who traded with the Takashi-and he used these like the rungs of a ladder to reach higher personages. But frequently there were waits of many days between his appointments with various great men. Hardest of all to arrange was an audience with the most important official in Linan, the Emperor's chief councillor and the real ruler of southern China, Chia Ssu-tao.
Taniko remained in isolation, in effect a prisoner. As happened wherever she went, she quickly made friends with the servants, both her own people and the newly hired Chinese. Horigawa had instructed the household staff to keep a close watch on her and warned them that she was not to be trusted. But, consciously employing charm, candour and kindness, she eventually won them all over. Through the servants she was able to make contact with the outer world. An elderly Chinese secretary was especially helpful.
Erom him she learned some of the history of the Sung Emperors. Their dynasty had been founded almost three centuries earlier by a general who seized the throne. A hundred years ago they had lost northern China, first to the barbarian Cathayans, then to the Kin Tartars. And now the Mongols, having in turn overrun the Kin, had decided to unite the two halves of China under their rule. They had pierced the Sung territories from three directions with three armies; their Emperor, the Great Khan Mangu, in the far west; Mangu's younger brother, Kublai Khan, in the west nearer the capital; and a famed and feared general, Arghun Baghadur, in the south. She thought she had heard of Arghun Baghadur before, but she could not remember where or when.
At first it seemed to Taniko that all Chinese were tall, grave and silent. Then she met several who were short, passionate and talkative. She thought the Chinese greedy, then heard tales of poor scholars and met beggar monks at the mansion kitchen. Gradually she realized that her quickly formed beliefs about the Chinese were as foolish as the Chinese notion that her people ate human flesh, and she settled down to studying the Chinese one by one.
One of their customs was utterly strange to her. She did not meet any upper-class women, but the servants assured her it was quite true that the feet of wealthy and well-born Chinese women were tightly bound when they were small girls, to keep them from growing. The deformed results, which looked something like the hooves of horses, were known as lily feet, and the Chinese women were proud of them. Taniko could not imagine why, nor why the Chinese men would find such feet attractive, as they evidently did. Only a man like Horigawa, she thought, would want a crippled woman.
Towards the end of the Year of the Horse, the prince's Chinese secretary told her that Horigawa had finally made contact with Chia Ssu-tao. Because of the chief councillor's passion for sponsoring cricket fights, Horigawa had scoured the ten major marketplaces of Linan and all the lesser ones till he found a truly formidable fighting cricket, for which he paid one hundred bolts of silk. He sent the cricket to the great minister in an ivory cage, with the compliments of one who served the Emperor of Ge-pen in the same capacity that Chia served the Sung Emperor. It was an exaggeration, but there was no way Chia Ssu-tao could discover that. Chia sent for Horigawa. What they had discussed, precisely, the secretary had no idea.
Horigawa was invited to Chia Ssu-tao's celebration ushering in the Year of the Sheep. The chief councillor entertained his guests on Linan's great Western Lake, chartering a fleet of flower-bedecked pleasure boats, crewed by women and heavily laden with casks of spiced rice wine. Horigawa was among the most favoured guests, those who accompanied Chia Ssu-tao himself on the dragon barge that led the fleet. Not long after this, Horigawa sent a sealed dispatch on a trading junk to Takashi no Sogamori.
Taniko passed the days writing in her pillow book, embroidering, and playing mah-jongg with a Chinese maid who taught her the game. The elderly secretary taught her the art of painting in the Chinese manner. She compared languages with him, both of them fascinated by the way Taniko's language was written in Chinese characters, but with the characters standing for completely different words. The old man explained that China was known as the Central Kingdom because all the other nations of the earth must come to China to learn.
One day in early spring of the Year of the Sheep, Horigawa came to her. His small, squarish face was alight with pleasure and triumph.
"I have come to advise my honoured wife to prepare herself for a long and arduous journey by land. We leave in three days' time."
"Where are we going?" Taniko asked coldly.
"West." Horigawa waved expansively in that direction.
"There is war in the west."
"Yes. Are you afraid?" He watched her keenly. Perhaps he hoped that the long months of suspense and confinement would have broken her down.
"I am not," Taniko said firmly-. "Wherever we are going, if you are not frightened, I can be quite certain I will not be frightened." "You have more to fear than I do."
Once again Taniko carefully packed away her silks, jewels, combs and the other belongings she had brought with her from Heian Kyo. She had not yet worn any of her finery.
The day before they were to leave she sought out the old secretary to say goodbye. He prostrated himself before her and looked up with tears in his eyes.
Taniko smiled. "I hardly deserve such an outpouring of feelings. Perhaps if you knew me better you would weep less at this parting."
He shook his head. "Escape, honoured lady. Run away. Do not go with the prince."
"How can I escape? Where could I go?"
"You are being taken to your destruction. To think that I should advise a wife to defy her husband-it is a great wrong I do. But the evil he contemplates is greater."
He would say nothing more. She passed that day and night in dread. Of course, she had always known Horigawa had some cruelty in store for her, though the uneventful voyage and the quiet months in Linan had lulled her into a feeling of safety. There was danger in the west.
How could she run away from Horigawa in an utterly strange land? Could she find her way to Jebu? How would she eat? Where would she sleep? She would either be returned to Horigawa or fall into the hands of criminals. She could only escape if she. had help. She decided to ask the secretary, since he had warned her, to help her get away.
After a sleepless night she dressed quickly. As she finished, Horigawa swept into the room.
"We depart at once."
"I-I am not ready."
"That is unfortunate. I'm sorry, but we leave in any case." The little man beckoned, and two large Chinese serving-women came into the room.
"I am not going with you."
"I suspected as much. Rumour of our destination has somehow reached you. One can appreciate at such times the usefulness of the Chinese custom of binding women's feet."
"I am sure the idea of torturing and deforming women appeals to you."
Horigawa nodded to the two large women. With blank faces they stepped forward and reached for Taniko. She remembered her samurai training. She stepped towards the maid on her left, tripped her and sent her sprawling on her back. The other big woman threw her arms around Taniko from behind. Taniko drove her elbow into the woman's stomach.
Horigawa tried to block the doorway, but Taniko thrust the heel of her hand into his chin. He fell back against the wall of the corridor.
She ran out of the room and into the arms of a steel-helmeted guard with a three-pointed sword swinging from his broad belt. He picked her up off her feet in a bear hug and held her impassively while she kicked against his massive body.
"Take her to the carriage and lock her in," said Horigawa, panting as he picked himself up off the floor with the help of one of the maids. He bared his black-dyed teeth at Taniko. "I might say I will make things worse for you, to repay you for this. But your fate cannot be made any worse."
Chapter Seven
They set out that morning escorted by a clanking company of soldiers carrying long spears and shields painted with fire-breathing dragons' heads. The prince rode in solitary splendour in a vermilion and gold official state carriage of the Sung Emperor's Court, drawn by a pure white ox. His entourage followed in less ornate vehicles, their belongings packed on the roofs of the carriages. Eive big carts, each pulled by three oxen, carried bales of silk, boxes of silver bars and other valuables.
Taniko rode with three Chinese maids, the two she had knocked down and another, grim-looking woman taller and broader than either of the others. All were strangers to her. When she tried to speak to them, they silently looked away.
The caravan rode north on the Imperial Way, passing canals and bridges and vast marketplaces. Around the market squares stood tall buildings, some as high as five storeys, a necessity in this overcrowded city. They passed through a fortified gateway and crossed a wide moat, and Taniko looked back at walls so thick, chariots could be driven along their tops.
As they travelled slowly westwards, they passed flooded rice paddies, whose green shoots were just beginning to break through the water's surface, alternating with woodlands full of leafy trees. At night they stayed at inns, places that intrigued Taniko. People paid in silk, silver coins or the paper money issued by the Emperor, and were given food and sleeping quarters for the night. How much easier it would make travelling in her own country if such establishments existed there.
She decided that whatever was to happen to her, she must meet it looking her best. Each morning she selected a set of her finest robes and dressed in them, layer on layer, folded back one on the other at throat, sleeves and skirt to show their variegated edges. She combed and arranged her hair and adorned it with jewelled combs and pins. She powdered her face and painted her lips, carefully making her mouth, her worst feature in her opinion, look smaller than it actually was. Horigawa had taken none-of the maids from their homeland on this journey, but she was able to teach the Chinese women to help her dress in the style of a great lady of Heian Kyo.
They began to pass long lines of refugees, bundles on their heads, trudging east along either side of the road. Horigawa was heading directly for the war zone. Taniko refused to give in to fear, knowing that was just what Horigawa wanted. She remembered Jebu's telling her that once she made direct contact with the Self, she would no longer feel fear. "There will be no necessity for it," was the way he put it. She tried to reach the Self by invoking Amida Buddha. Perhaps Amida was the Self.
They encountered a Chinese army, its yellow and black silk tents dotting the spring-green hills, its general a tall figure in gilded armour mounted on a splendid black charger. Horigawa showed the general a scroll which he took from a carved ivory case.
They went on, but now the Chinese guards who had accompanied them from Linan were no longer with them. They had no protection whatever. This was madness, Taniko thought. Yet she knew Horigawa would never risk his person unnecessarily.
Drowsing as their carriage bumped westwards, Taniko was awakened by the screams of the Chinese women. "Mongols!"
She looked up. Pale with fear, the maids were staring out the carriage window. Taniko pushed in among them.
They were on a road running through green young wheat fields. Nearby were the burnt ruins of a cluster of houses. In the distance she could see the walls and pagoda towers of a city above which hung a cloud of grey smoke. And across the empty fields, riders were galloping towards them. Horigawa stepped down from his carriage and stood waiting for them.
They skidded to a stop with shrill cries. Their faces were very broad and a dark brown. Eor the first time Taniko was seeing Jebu's people. They looked nothing like him. Then she noticed that two of them had moustaches the exact shade of red of Jebu's hair. That was a shock to her, making real something she had only half believed, as if a kami should suddenly appear to her in the living flesh.
Horigawa addressed the riders in Chinese and showed them something. He was too far away for Taniko to hear what he was saying. She hoped they would ride him down and impale him with their lances. She would be content to die, if she could first see that.
Several of the warriors dismounted and began to walk down the line of carriages, looking in the windows. Would they really smell as bad as the Chinese claimed?
A round face with a long black moustache, surrounded by a felt headpiece, thrust itself in at the window. The Mongol's eyes widened, and he exclaimed in his harsh tongue. Pulling the rear door of the carriage open, he seized the maid nearest him by the arm and yanked her out of the carriage. It was the biggest of the women. The Mongol was tall, but she was a bit taller.
The bowlegged warrior pulled the stout, pleading woman away from the road and into the knee-high green wheat. He threw her down on her back as his comrades, laughing and calling to each other, rode over and climbed down from their ponies. Taniko could hear Horigawa call out a protest, but the Mongols ignored him. Chattering gleefully, they tore the screaming woman's robes from her body. Two of them pulled her legs apart. The one who had taken her from the carriage threw himself upon her.
Her stomach churning, Taniko watched while the Mongols proceeded to take turns raping the woman. Her cries and groans brought tears to Taniko's eyes. The other two maids crouched on the carriage floor and covered their ears with their hands. Horigawa, his back turned, was talking to the leader of the Mongols, some distance away.
The last of them was through with the woman. He stood, drawing up his leather trousers, while she lay on her back sobbing. With a snarl the Mongol reached down and pulled her to her feet by the hair. He drew the sabre slung over his back, stretched her neck by pulling downwards on her hair, and in one swift motion struck off her head.
Taniko bit down on her fist to stifle her scream. If they heard her, they might come back. "Homage to Amida Buddha," she whispered. Sickened and grief-stricken, she fell back into a corner of the carriage, turned her face to the wall, and cried in anguish.
