The Harsh Cry of the Heron (21 page)

His voice was stern,
and Miki, who had been touching the scar that ran from the side of his neck
across his chest and was about to ask him to tell the story of the fight,
thought better of it and said nothing.

Takeo spoke more
gently. ‘A lot is demanded of you. You have to learn the way of the warrior, as
well as all the secrets of the Tribe. I know it is not easy. You have many
talents: you must be very careful how you use them.’

Miki said, ‘Is it
because of the cat?’

‘Tell me about the
cat,’ he replied.

They exchanged a
glance but did not answer.

Takeo said, gesturing
towards his private parts, floating limp, innocent, in the water, ‘I carried
you there; you come from me. You are marked as I am as Kikuta. There is nothing
you cannot tell me. Maya, what happened with the cat?’

‘I didn’t mean to
hurt it,’ Maya began.

‘You must not lie to
me,’ he reminded her.

She went on, ‘I
wanted to see what would happen. I thought it might hurt the cat, but I didn’t
mind.’ Her voice was serious; she looked directly at him. One day she would
challenge him, but now her look was still that of a child. T was angry with
Mori Hiroki.’

‘He looked at us,’
Miki explained. ‘Everyone does. As if we were demons.’

‘He likes Shigeko and
he doesn’t like us,’ Maya said.

‘And that’s the same
with everyone,’ Miki said, and as if his silence unleashed something within
her, she began to cry. ‘Everyone hates us because there are two of us!’

The twins rarely
cried. It was yet another trait that made them seem unnatural.

Maya was also crying.
‘And Mother hates us because she wanted one boy, and she got two girls!’

‘Chiyo told us that.’
Miki gulped.

He felt his heart
twist for them. It was easy to love his eldest daughter; he loved these two all
the more because they were not easy to love, and he pitied them.

‘You are very
precious to me,’ he said. ‘I have always been glad that there are two of you
and that you are girls. I would rather have two girls than all the sons in the
world.’

‘When you are here, it’s
all right. We feel safe, and we don’t want to do bad things. But you are away
so much of the time.’

‘I would keep you
with me if I could - but it is not always possible. You have to learn to be
good even when I am not here.’

‘People shouldn’t
look at us,’ Maya said.

‘Maya, from now on it
is you who must be careful how you look. You know the story -1 have often told
you - about my encounter with the ogre Jin-emon?’ Takeo asked.

‘Yes,’ they said
together, with enthusiasm.

‘I looked into his
eyes and he fell asleep. This is the Kikuta sleep, which is used to disable
your enemy. This is what you did to the cat, Maya. But Jin-emon was huge, as
tall as the castle gate and heavier than an ox. The cat was small, and young,
and the sleep killed it.’

‘It’s not really
dead,’ Maya said, coming close to him, hanging off his left arm. ‘It came into
me.’

Takeo tried to make
no sign of shock or alarm, not wanting to silence her now.

‘It came to live with
me,’ Maya said. ‘It doesn’t mind. Because it couldn’t talk before, and now it
can. And I don’t mind either. I like the cat.’

‘But Jin-emon didn’t
come into you, did he, Father?’ Miki said. It was no more strange to them than
invisibility, or the second self, and perhaps no more harmful.

‘No, because in the
end I cut his windpipe and throat with Jato. He died from that, not from the
sleep.’

‘Are you angry about
the cat?’ Maya said.

He knew they trusted
him, and knew he must not lose that trust, that they were like shy wild animals
who would flee at a moment. He recalled the months of misery he had endured
with the Kikuta, the brutality of the training.

‘No, I am not angry,’
he said calmly.

‘Shizuka was very
angry,’ Miki muttered.

‘But I need to know
everything: in order to protect you, and to stop you hurting other people. I am
your father, and your senior in the Kikuta family. You owe me your obedience on
both counts.’

‘This is what
happened,’ Maya said. ‘I was angry with Mori Hiroki. I saw how he loved the
cat. I wanted to pay him back for not looking at us. And the cat was sweet. I
wanted to play with it. So I looked in its eyes, and I couldn’t stop looking.
It was sweet, but I wanted to hurt him, and I couldn’t stop.’ She broke off,
and looked helplessly at him.

‘Go on,’ he said.

T drew it in. From
its eyes, through my eyes. It came leaping into me. It yowled and mewed. But I
couldn’t stop looking. And then the cat was dead. But it was still alive.’

‘And?’

‘And Mori Hiroki was
sad, and that made me happy.’ Maya gave a deep sigh, as if she had completed
reciting a lesson. ‘That’s all, Father, I promise you.’

He touched her cheek.
‘You were honest with me. But you see how confused your emotions were. Your
mind was not clear, as it must be when you use any of the Tribe skills. When
you look into other people’s eyes you will see their weaknesses and their lack
of clarity. That is what makes them vulnerable to your gaze.’

‘What will happen to
me?’ Maya said.

‘I don’t know. We
have to watch you to find out. You acted wrongly; you made a mistake. You will
have to live with the consequences. But you must promise me never to use the
Kikuta sleep on anyone, until I say you may.’

‘Kenji would know,’
Miki said, and began to cry again. ‘He told us about animal spirits and how the
Tribe use them.’

‘I wish he wasn’t
dead,’ Maya said through her own renewed sobs.

And Takeo felt his
own eyes grow hot, for his teacher, now lost to him, and for his twin
daughters, whom he had not been able to protect from a possession whose outcome
he had no way of foreseeing.

Both girls were close
to him, their limbs, in the steaming water, so like his in the texture and
colour of the skin, brushing against him.

‘We don’t have to
marry Sunaomi, do we?’ Maya asked him, calmer now.

‘Why? Who says you
should?’

‘Sunaomi told us he
is to be betrothed to one or other of us!’

‘Only if he is very
naughty indeed,’ Takeo replied. ‘As a punishment!’

‘I don’t want to be
betrothed to anyone,’ Miki said.

‘One day you may
change your mind,’ Takeo teased her.

‘I want to marry
Miki,’ Maya said, beginning to giggle.

‘Yes, we’ll marry
each other,’ Miki agreed.

‘Then you will have
no children. You need a man to make children.’

T don’t want
children,’ Miki said.

T hate children,’
Maya agreed. ‘Especially Sunaomi! You won’t make Sunaomi your son, will you,
Father?’

T have no need of sons,’
Takeo replied.

Kenji’s funeral was
held the following day, and a stone was erected for him at the Hachiman shrine
next to Tokoji, which soon became a place of pilgrimage for the Muto family and
other members of the Tribe. Kenji had passed into the spirit world, like
Shigeru, like Jo-An. All three had seemed more than human in their lifetime.
Now they inspired and protected those who still lived in the midst of the
world.

The plum rains ended
and the great heat of summer began. Shigeko rose early every day before sunrise
and went to the shrine on the riverbank to spend an hour or so with the black
colt while the air was still cool. The two old mares nipped and kicked him and
taught him manners; he had become calmer in their company, and gradually he
seemed to accept her, whickering when he saw her and showing signs of
affection.

‘He has never done
that to anyone,’ Mori Hiroki remarked, watching the colt rub his head against
Shi-geko’s shoulder.

‘I would like to give
him to my father,’ she replied. ‘He has had no horse he likes since Shun died.’

‘He is ready to be
broken in,’ Hiroki said. ‘But you should not attempt it, certainly not alone. I
am too old and slow now, and your father is too busy.’

‘But I must do it,’
Shigeko argued. ‘He has come to trust me.’ Then the thought leaped into her
mind. Hiroshi is coming to Hagi. We can break the horse in together. And Father
can ride him next year when we travel to Miyako.

She named the horse
Tenba, for he had something heavenly about him, and when he galloped around the
meadow he seemed to fly.

So the hot days
passed. The children swam in the sea and continued their studies and training,
happy because their father was home, and though government affairs kept him
busy most of the day he always spent some time with them, in the warm evenings
when the sky was deep black and the stars huge, and the faint breath of the
wind from the sea cooled the residence.

For Shigeko the next
great event of the summer was the arrival of Sugita Hiroshi from Maruyama. He
had lived with the Otori household until he reached the age of twenty and had
then moved to Maruyama, where he ran the domain that was her mother’s and would
one day be hers. It was like the return of a beloved older brother for all
three girls. Every time she received a letter, Shigeko expected to read that
Hiroshi was married, for he was twenty-six years old and had not yet taken a
wife. It was inexplicable, but, to her only half-admitted relief, when he rode
into Hagi he came alone, and there was no mention of any wife or betrothed left
behind in Maruyama. Waiting until she could question Shizuka alone, she tried
to bring the subject up casually. ‘Shizuka, how old were your sons when they
married?’

‘Zenko was eighteen,
and Taku seventeen,’ Shizuka replied. ‘Not particularly young.’

‘And Taku and Sugita
Hiroshi are the same age, are they not?’

‘Yes, they were born
in the same year - your Aunt Hana was also born that year.’ Shizuka laughed. ‘All
three boys hoped to marry Hana, I think. Hiroshi in particular had always had a
yearning to be Hana’s husband: he idolized your mother and thought Hana very
like her. Taku got over his disappointment swiftly, but it’s common gossip that
Hiroshi never did, and that is why he has never married.’

‘How very unusual,’
Shigeko said, half wanting to continue the conversation, and half astonished at
the pain it caused her. Hiroshi in love with Hana? And to the extent that he
could not bring himself to marry anyone else?

‘If a suitable
alliance had presented itself, no doubt your father would have arranged a
marriage,’ Shizuka said. ‘But Hiroshi’s position is unique. He is both too high
in rank and not high enough. His closeness to your family is almost that of a
son of the house, yet he has no hereditary lands of his own. He will give
Maruyama over to you this year.’

‘I hope he will
continue to serve me there,’ Shigeko said. ‘But I can see I will have to find
him a wife! Does he have a mistress or concubine?’

‘I suppose so,’
Shizuka replied. ‘Most men do!’

‘Not my father,’
Shigeko said.

‘No, nor did Lord
Shigeru.’ Shizuka’s eyes took on a faraway, pensive look.

‘Why are they so
different from other men, I wonder.’

‘Maybe no other woman
appeals to them. And I suppose they do not want to cause their beloved the pain
of jealousy.’

‘Jealousy is a
terrible feeling,’ Shigeko said.

‘But luckily you are
too young to have such emotions,’ Shizuka replied. ‘And your father will choose
wisely when it comes to your husband. In fact, he will be so particular about
it, I wonder if he will ever find anyone good enough.’

‘I would be happy
never to marry,’ Shigeko declared, but she knew that this was not wholly true.
Ever since she had reached womanhood she had found herself troubled by dreams,
and by longings for a man’s touch, the feel of the strong body aligned with her
own, the intimacy of hair, skin and smell.

‘It’s a shame girls
are not permitted to take lovers as boys are,’ she said.

‘They have to be a
little more discreet about it,’ Shizuka replied, laughing. ‘Is there already
someone you desire, Shigeko? Are you older than I think?’

‘Of course not. I
just want to know what it’s like: the things men and women do together,
marriage, love . . .’

She studied Hiroshi
carefully that evening as he ate the evening meal. He did not look like someone
driven mad by love. He was not particularly tall, about the same height as her
father but more powerfully built and fuller in the face. His eyes were long in
shape and lively in expression, his hair thick and completely black. He seemed
in an excellent humour, overflowing with optimism about the coming harvest and
eager to share the results of his innovative techniques in drilling men and
horses; he teased the twins and flattered Kaede, made jokes with Takeo and
reminisced about the old days, the retreat in the typhoon and the battle for
Hagi. Once or twice in the course of the evening she fancied she felt his eyes
on her, but when she glanced at him he was always looking away, and he only
spoke directly to her once or twice, addressing her with formality. His face
became less animated then, taking on a calm, almost remote expression. It
reminded her of the way her teachers at the temple looked while meditating; and
she recalled that, like herself, Hiroshi had been trained in the Way of the
Houou. It consoled her a little: they would always be comrades, though they
could be nothing more; he would always understand her and support her.