Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate (20 page)

“Please.”

I already knew Lady Snow was an excellent dancer, but I soon discovered that even this skill was eclipsed by her mastery of the
koto.
For a little while I forgot the simple but extremely well-presented meal before me. When I finally did start to eat, the food, as I expected, was excellent, but I found myself barely tasting it as I listened to Lady Snow play song after song. Some I recognized, some I did not, but her skill was evident in all of them. I was almost sorry to finish the meal because I knew it would bring the concert to a close. Yet the time came and Lady Snow put the long instrument aside. She politely offered me saké, which I politely declined, and then she got down to the matter I knew actually concerned her.

“I regret the necessity of dampening your enjoyment, but I must again ask for your help, Lord Yamada.”

“And I regret the necessity of spoiling your hopes. It seems extremely ungrateful of me after such a fine meal and entertainment, for in truth I cannot remember better. Yet, unless matters have changed greatly since our last meeting, I must again refuse.”

“Matters have indeed changed, if I might be so bold as to say,” she replied. “Are not the obligations that formerly held you in the Emperor’s city no longer at issue?”

She obviously knew I was without a patron at the moment, and this was about the politest way of saying so I could imagine. “How did you know that?”

“By asking,” Lady Snow said, looking down with a demure expression. “Some men will tell a woman things they would not tell their own brothers. Forgive me, but you do know my interest in this matter.”

I was less certain now of which matter we were actually discussing. “While it is true that my obligations have ceased for the moment, my concerns remain unchanged, both in your regard and to that of my former employer.”

“You remain discreet about your former patron, and it does you credit. Still, there have been no new attacks for some time.”

I should have been surprised Lady Snow knew so much. I was worried, certainly, but not surprised. I imagined there would be little Lady Snow could not uncover, had she a need or wish to do so, a fact which made my reluctance in the matter of my father and Fujiwara no Kiyoshi harder to justify; not impossible, perhaps not even difficult, but harder.

“I’m not convinced the attacks have ceased, and since I don’t know their true nature, I can hardly call the matter settled. I do not believe the danger is past.”

Lady Snow met my gaze then. “Lord Yamada, you must believe me when I tell you I would like nothing better than to have the matter of the attacks resolved. Taira no Kei . . . I knew her. She was a gentle girl and a cheerful spirit. Perhaps her
karma
was to blame, but I do not think she deserved such an ending.”

Well, here was something I had not known before. “May I ask how you knew Kei?”

She shrugged. “An
asobi
is often near to the Court, if never a part of it, and there are many idle young men in Princess Ai’s circle who sought my acquaintance. I met Kei-chan on one such occasion. She was kind to me, Lord Yamada. As with Kiyoshi, one learns to appreciate kindness since to some of us it is so rarely bestowed. That matter aside, for the moment you are without hindrance. I recognize this may change, but it is certainly true now, yes?”

“It is so,” I said and waited.

She produced a scroll. “This may not be the definitive proof you require Lord Yamada, but I think you will find it interesting. I copied the original, even though I was not able to procure it.”

I took the scroll, but I was not sanguine. A mere copy was unlikely to be substantive enough to satisfy me no matter what the original document purported to reveal, leaving aside the Minister of Justice or anyone empowered to act in this matter. At least, I was convinced of that until I read the scroll Lady Snow had given me:

All is prepared. Lord Yamada meets the Emishi prince at the Izawa barrier at noon on __________. I have my men ready. Be sure their king stands aside as promised. His son will not be harmed, but once the foolish prince plays his part, we will play ours.—Sentaro

The salutation of the letter was to Abe no Ginjo, the chief of the Abe clan. The clan which—for that past year—the governor of Mutsu Province had been charged to subdue without much success. Prince Kanemore could say a thing or two about the intensity of the fighting there. Granted, seventeen years ago that branch of the Abe had been simply a border clan, who were granted their lands solely for the purpose of containing the Emishi barbarians in their strongholds north of Izawa and Shiba, where Sakanouye Tamuramarou had first driven them two hundred years before. It was only recently that the Abe Clan had begun to ignore or circumvent the will of the Emperor. It was not in open rebellion yet, but I knew Kanemore and others fully expected the current hostilities to escalate.

Sentaro’s close ties to the Abe of the time was questionable but not suspicious. If that had been all there was to the letter, I would have dismissed it out of hand.

Curious.

“Well?” Lady Snow asked.

“Where did you get this?”

“I can’t tell you, precisely. Yet it clearly shows that Yamada no Seburo was the victim of a conspiracy.”

I grunted. “One could as easily argue my father planned to form an alliance with this ‘barbarian prince’ mentioned in the letter, and that Lord Sentaro got wind of it and laid a trap for him with the aid of the provincial governor. That reading makes just as much sense as yours. Perhaps more.”

To my surprise, she smiled. “I admit you are right in every point. So why are you troubled, Lord Yamada? Why do you hesitate? Shall I tell you? It’s because there is something present in that letter that makes no sense to you.”

She knew. Of course, she
would
know, if the entire letter was a fabrication. Common sense said as much. Yet, if so, it was a fabrication well-chosen to intrigue me, and I had to admit it had done so; I did not understand why anyone would go to so much trouble.

“Actually, there are two things. The first that does not make sense is the chief of the barbarians would co-operate to reveal a spy in his own enemies’ camp.”

“What is the second?”

“That my father was taken at Izawa barrier. I had thought he was taken at Chiba, since that is where he was executed.”

“I do not know. I only know this letter is an exact copy of one Lord Sentaro wrote. I also know that, just before the incident, he wrote another letter. To your father.”

That stopped me. I was in the Imperial University when my father had been executed, and in one of my father’s infrequent letters a few weeks prior he had mentioned an important letter from Lord Sentaro, though not the contents. He seemed quite pleased about it, and hinted of good things to come—though I was strictly ordered not to mention it to anyone else, which I had not. I never knew the nature of Sentaro’s letter, and had pretty much forgotten about it, until Lady Snow refreshed my memory. Yet this was something she could not possibly know, unless . . .

“Are you saying you’ve seen a copy of Sentaro’s letter?”

“No. I have seen the actual letter. It was part of your father’s effects that were seized during his arrest, and these items were kept together. The letter had been resealed so I could not read it. Yet perhaps, if you were with me, we might be bolder?”

“You’re speaking of an archive. Any such would be here in the city.”

She smiled again. “It may not surprise you to learn that Lord Sentaro kept documentation of his many activities. These are not part of the official record, and they most certainly are
not
in the city.”

“How did you find this?”

“From the time I learned Kiyoshi had been murdered I knew who my enemy was, Lord Yamada. I’ve made it my mission to learn everything about him that could be learned by one such as myself.”

That rang true enough, as did the existence of such an archive in the first place. Someone like Sentaro no doubt had many dealings he would want to reference at need but certainly not keep part of the official record. Yet this would be a personal archive, well hidden and secret for obvious reasons. I started to ask how Lady Snow had gained access, but realized she had already told me how, at least in broad strokes. The details didn’t really matter.

I’ve made it my mission.

She looked at me, her face expressionless. “I cannot tell you where the archive is, Lord Yamada. Forgive me, but not unlike Lord Sentaro I, too, have secrets to keep and confidences to protect. However, if you are willing I can take you there.”

“I will need some time to think about this.”

She covered her smile with her fan. “Certainly no one can accuse you of rashness. Or is there another obligation?”

“I will be making a pilgrimage to Enryaku-ji in the next few days. Even if I were to agree, I cannot possibly accompany you anywhere until I return.”

She bowed again. “Would this have anything to do with the delegation from Imperial Court?”

I frowned. “I should ask how you know about that.”

“If you consider for a moment, I am sure an answer will present itself,” she said. “Still, it is fortunate you have friends in such high circumstances, including one of the heirs to the Imperial Throne. That could prove useful to you in getting justice, once you have the proof you require.”

“ ‘Heirs’? Takahito is crown prince. To whom are you referring?”

She looked puzzled. “Why, Prince Kanemore, of course. He is second in line for the succession. Forgive my impertinence, but your recent association with him is well known.”

“Kanemore is not in line for the throne at all, except in the sense that every member of the extended Royal Family could be termed so. If anything, the gods forbid, happened to Prince Takahito, Norihira is next in line, and there are two other Fujiwara princes in the direct line after him.”

She bowed low. “Perhaps I am mistaken,” she said. “But I had heard His Majesty’s intentions were otherwise.”

“I am sure that you are,” I said.

She bowed again. “Such lofty matters are outside my scope of concern, of course. It was foolish of me to mention what are surely no more than rumors.”

“It’s nothing. Please consider the matter closed.”

I’d have liked to have done the same, but if this was an actual rumor it was one I had not heard. I wondered if Kanemore had. It was something we perhaps should discuss along the road to Enryaku-ji.

“You have not yet told me ‘no,’ Lord Yamada. May I take that as a sign of hope? Will you seriously consider my proposal?”

“I am considering it,” I said. “But that is all I can promise at the present time.”

She smiled a little wistfully then and didn’t bother covering her mouth. “You must be weary of me, Lord Yamada. This silly woman with all these stories of things that happened long ago and should not matter to anyone now. Still, they do matter to me. I had hoped they would matter to you.”

“Nothing can restore my family to what it was,” I said again. I was beginning to feel the phrase had become some sort of mantra. “If your evidence was above refutation, I would still refuse to have any illusions in that regard. That is not to say I am uninterested in the idea of justice.”

“Whereas justice is
all
that interests me, Lord Yamada. If the blame for this is laid at Lord Sentaro’s feet as it should be, Kiyoshi will still be dead. The life I wanted, the life I could have had by his side is less than a dream now. Youth fades, and I cannot be an
asobi
for very much longer; my options will rapidly dwindle. At best I will become the wife of some fat merchant, else I must become a nun and beg my rice at the side of the road. But while I have the means and the strength, poor though either may be, I will continue to seek justice for Kiyoshi. It’s foolish, perhaps, but there it is. Refuse me and I will continue.”

“Why?”

“To answer that, I must ask you a question first: have you ever been in love, Lord Yamada?”

I answered even before I thought about it. “Yes,” I said.

“Who was she, if I may be so impolite?”

“Her name does not matter. Suffice to say she was a woman of higher station than my own, and in most other regards my superior as well. Our lives took different paths.”

“Did she love you?”

Such a simple question, the answer to which I expected would crush me like a worn-out cicada shell underfoot. “I thought so at the time. I will probably never know, yet I must face the possibility I was wrong.”

“Forgive me, but can you not ask her? Surely she will accept a letter.”

“She is deceased.”

Lady Snow reached out and touched my hand. It was the first time I had felt the warmth of her, and it had been a much longer time since I felt the warmth of anyone.

“Then you know what it is like, to lose what you hoped to hold forever. Perhaps you can at least understand why I do what I do. We are not so very different, Lord Yamada.”

“No.”

There followed a silence. Not really awkward, nor one needing to be filled; rather, an expectant silence. A waiting silence.

I got to my feet. Lady Snow did not move. She merely looked up at me patiently as I said foolish and self-evident things. “It is very late, and I have a long way to go tomorrow. I have greatly enjoyed your company, but I must leave now.”

She looked at the floor. “It’s really not so wise to go out in the city at this hour. The demons would get you. I do not want that on my conscience.”

“The demons and I are old friends, Lady Snow.”

“Then show pity on me, for I would never forgive myself should anything befall you before you reached your destination.”

Of course this wasn’t about demons or ghosts or anything else now stalking through or flitting about the streets of the city. I could be incredibly thick at times and the first to confess it, but even I understood Lady Snow’s meaning.

I let out one long, slow breath even as I called myself the worst kind of fool. “I would not wish to cause you any distress.”

My common sense told me this was simply another method of barter, offering what she had to give for something she wanted. It was this knowledge that almost allowed me to walk out the door, but in the end I chose to stay. I was not seduced, or beguiled . . . well, perhaps a little. Yet I knew I had a choice just as Lady Snow did, for I was not, like some, a man to use force to get what he wanted. We both chose that I stay. I could not see the good in it, and I was sure I would regret the night’s lodging, but my choice did not alter.