The Harsh Cry of the Heron (23 page)

Hiroshi has always
been a clever strategist, Takeo thought. Even as a child!

He turned to his
daughter. ‘Shigeko?’

‘I agree with
everything Lord Hiroshi has said,’ she replied. ‘If I come with you to Miyako,
I believe the Way of the Houou will prevail, even with the Emperor.’

When in Hagi Shizuka
lived in the castle residence, and consequently Takeo saw her several times a
day, in the company of Kaede or their children. There was no need to arrange
formal meetings, nor did he see the need to announce to the world her
appointment to the headship of the Tribe. The skills and talents of the Tribe
might now come under the control of the state, in his person, but they were
still kept secret. He found this division suited his warrior advisers, who as
always were happy to take advantage of the services provided by the Tribe while
preferring to stay aloof from sorcery. Taku, of mixed blood like himself,
understood all this perfectly.

It was easy enough to
have informal talks with Shizuka, in the garden, on the veranda, or on the sea
wall. A few days after the council of war, on the morning of the Star Festival,
they met as if by chance as he was going from the residence towards the castle
itself. Minoru followed Takeo as usual with the writing implements, but stepped
away to allow them to speak privately.

T had a message from
Taku,’ she said quietly. ‘Late last night. Ishida and Chikara left Hofu at the
last full moon. The weather has been settled and fine: they should arrive any
day now.’

‘That’s good news,’
he replied. ‘You must be looking forward to your husband’s return.’ Then he
said, for there was no reason why this news should be secret, ‘What else?’

‘Apparently Zenko
gave permission for the foreigners to come with them. Two of them are on board,
with their translator - the woman.’

Takeo frowned. ‘What
is the purpose of their visit?’

‘Taku does not say.
But he thought you should be forewarned.’

‘It’s annoying,’
Takeo said. ‘We will have to receive them with all sorts of ceremony and
splendour, and pretend to be impressed by their paltry gifts and uncouth
speeches. I don’t want them feeling they have the freedom to go where they
will. I prefer to keep them confined to one place: Hofu did very well. Find
them somewhere uncomfortable to live, and have them watched at all times. Do we
have anyone who speaks their language?’

Shizuka shook her
head.

‘Well, someone must
learn it as soon as possible. Their translator must teach us while she is here.’
He was thinking rapidly. He had not wanted to see Madaren again; he had a sense
of discomfort that she was reappearing so soon in his life. He feared the
complications that her presence would inevitably cause, but if he had to use a
translator it might as well be her - whom he had some connection with, possibly
some hold over.

He thought of Kaede,
who learned so quickly, who had mastered the languages of Shin and Tenjiku so
she could read the classic works of history, literature and the scriptures. He
would ask her to learn the foreigners’ language from Madaren, and he would tell
her the translator was his sister . . . the idea that he would have one less
secret from her made him curiously happy.

‘Find some bright
girl who can be their servant,’ he told Shizuka. ‘Let her make every effort to
come to understand what they say. And we will arrange lessons here as well.’

‘Do you intend to
learn, cousin?’

‘I doubt I have the
aptitude,’ Takeo replied. ‘But I am sure Kaede has. And you too.’

‘I fear I am too old,’
Shizuka replied, laughing. ‘Ishida, however, has quite an interest, and has
been compiling a list of scientific and medical words.’

‘Good. Let him
continue this work with them. The more we can learn from them the better. And
see if you can find out more details from your husband about their real
purposes, and about how close they are to Zenko.

‘Taku is well?’ he
added as an afterthought.

‘He seems to be. Just
a little frustrated at being stuck in the West, I think. He is about to leave
with Lord Kono to inspect the estates, and intends to go on from there to
Maruyama.’

‘Is that so? Then
Hiroshi had better be there to meet them,’ Takeo said. ‘He can take the same
ship back again, and take news of our decisions to Taku.’

The ship was spotted
out to sea two days later. Shigeko heard the bell from the hill above the
castle ring out as she and Hiroshi worked with the colt. Tenba accepted the bit
and allowed her to lead him with the soft reins, but they had not yet tried him
with a saddle, or any weight on his back other than a light padded cloth that
still made him flinch and kick.

‘A ship is coming,’
she said, trying in vain to see against the bright dawn light. ‘I hope it is Dr
Ishida’s.’

‘If it is, I must
return to Maruyama,’ Hiroshi said.

‘So soon!’ Shigeko could
not help exclaiming, and then, embarrassed, said quickly, ‘Father says he is
bringing me some special present, but he will not tell me what it is.’ I sound
like a child, she thought, exasperated with herself.

‘I’ve heard him talk
about it,’ Hiroshi replied, treating her like a child, she thought.

‘Do you know what it
is?’

‘It is a secret!’ he
said teasingly. ‘I can’t reveal Lord Otori’s secrets.’

‘Why should he tell
you and not me?’

‘He did not tell me,’
he said, relenting. ‘Only that he hoped for fine weather and a calm voyage for
it.’

‘It’s some animal,’
Shigeko exclaimed in pleasure. ‘A new horse! Or maybe a tiger cub! The weather
has been beautiful. I’m always happy when it is fine weather for the Star
Festival.’

She recalled the
beauty of the recent still, moonless night, the brilliant splash of stars, the
one night of the year when the princess and her lover can meet across the
magical bridge built by magpies.

‘I used to love the
Star Festival when I was young,’ Hiroshi said. ‘But now it makes me feel sad.
For there are no magical bridges, not in real life.’

He is speaking of
himself and Hana, Shigeko thought. He has suffered for so long. He should be
married. He would get over it if he had a wife and children. Yet she could not
bring herself to suggest he marry.

‘I used to imagine
the Star Princess with your mother’s face,’ he said. ‘But maybe the princess is
like you, taming the horses of Heaven.’

Tenba, who had been
walking docilely between them, suddenly took fright at a dove fluttering from
the eaves of the shrine and jumped backwards, pulling the ribbon through
Shigeko’s hands. She went quickly after him to soothe him, but he was still
flighty and plunged past her, striking her with his shoulder and frightening
himself more. She nearly fell, but Hiroshi somehow put himself between her and
the horse, and she was aware of his strength for a moment, and longed with an
intensity that startled her to be held by him. The colt ran with high steps,
the reins dangling. Hiroshi said, ‘Are you all right? He did not step on you?’

She shook her head,
suddenly riven by emotion. They stood close, not touching. She found her voice.

‘I think we have done
enough for today. We will just make him walk quietly again. Then I must go home
and prepare to receive my gift. Father will want to make a ceremony of it.’

‘Of course, Lady
Shigeko,’ he replied, once more cool and formal. The colt allowed him to
approach, and Hiroshi led him back to Shigeko. The air stirred slightly in the
breeze and the doves fluttered overhead, but the young horse walked quietly
between them, head lowered. Neither of them said anything.

Down at the dockside,
the usual early morning bustle of activity had quietened. Fishermen paused from
unloading their night-time catch of silver sardines and shiny blue-scaled
mackerel, merchants halted the loading of bales of salt, rice and silk onto the
wide-beamed junks and a crowd gathered on the cobbles to welcome the ship from
Hofu with its unusual cargo.

Shigeko had just had
time to return to the residence and change into garments more suitable for
welcoming whatever her present was to be. Luckily it was only a short walk from
the castle gate to the harbour steps, along the beach, past the little house
under the pines where the famous courtesan Akane had once entertained Lord
Shigeru, the sweet-smelling shrubs she had planted still scenting the air.
Shizuka had waited for her, but her mother stayed behind, saying she felt a
little unwell. Takeo had already gone ahead with Sunaomi. When they joined him,
she could see her father was in a state of some excitement: he kept looking
sideways at her and smiling. She hoped her reaction would not disappoint him,
and resolved that no matter what the gift was, she would pretend it was her
heart’s desire.

However, as the ship
approached the wharf, and the strange animal could be seen clearly - its long
neck, its ears - Shigeko’s amazement was as great and as unfeigned as the rest
of the onlookers’, and her delight when Dr Ishida led the creature carefully
down the gangplank and presented it to her was inexpressible. She was enchanted
by the softness and strange pattern of its coat, by its dark and gentle eyes,
fringed with long, thick lashes, by its delicate, graceful gait and its calm
composure as it surveyed the unfamiliar scene before it.

Takeo was laughing
with pleasure, both with the kirin itself and with Shigeko’s reaction. Shizuka
was welcoming her husband with undemonstrative affection, and the little boy,
Chikara, awed by the reception and the crowd, recognized his brother’s face and
struggled to hold back tears.

‘Be brave,’ Dr Ishida
admonished him. ‘Greet your uncle and cousin properly. Sunaomi, look after your
little brother.’

‘Lord Otori,’ Chikara
managed to say, bowing deeply. ‘Lady . . .’

‘Shigeko,’ she
prompted him. ‘Welcome to Hagi!’

Ishida said to Takeo,
‘We have brought some other passengers, less welcome perhaps.’

‘Yes, I was
forewarned by Taku. Your wife will show them where they are to be lodged. I
will tell you later what our plans are for them. I hope I may prevail on you to
keep them entertained in the meantime.’

The foreigners - two
of them, the first ever in Hagi -appeared on the gangplank, causing no less
astonishment than the kirin. They wore strange puffed trousers and long boots
of leather; gold gleamed at neck and breast. One had a swarthy face half
obscured by a dark beard; the other was paler-skinned and his hair and beard
were the colour of pale rust. This man’s eyes were pale too, green as green
tea; at the sight of the hair and the light eyes a shiver ran through the
crowd, and Shigeko heard several whispers of, ‘Can they be ogres?’ ‘Ghosts.’ ‘Goblins.’

They were followed by
a small woman who seemed to be instructing them in the appropriate courtesies.
At her whisper they both bowed in a strange, rather ostentatious manner, and
then spoke in their harsh language.

Her father
acknowledged them with a slight gesture of the head. He was no longer laughing:
he looked stern, magnificent in his formal robes, embroidered with the heron,
and black lacquer hat, his features composed and impassive. The foreigners
might be taller and of larger frame, but to Shigeko’s eyes Lord Otori was far
more impressive.

The woman dropped to
the ground before him, but he, with great graciousness, Shigeko thought,
indicated that she might stand and speak to him.

Shigeko was holding
the silk cord that was attached to the kirin’s collar, and her attention was
taken up by the marvellous creature, but as she listened to her father speak a
few words of welcome to the strangers and the woman translate, then reply, she
thought she heard something unusual in the voice. She looked at the woman, at
her gaze, which was fixed on Takeo’s face. She knows Father, Shigeko thought.
She dares to look directly at him. There was something in that look, some
familiarity bordering on insolence which troubled her and put her on her guard.

The crowd at the
quayside were then faced with the vexing question of whether to follow the
extraordinary kirin, which Ishida and Shigeko led towards the shrine, where it
would be shown to Mori Hiroki and presented to the river god, and where an
enclosure would be prepared for it, or the equally extraordinary foreigners,
who with a line of servants carrying a large number of boxes and bales were
escorted by Shizuka to the tiny boat which would take them across the river to
their lodging alongside the old temple building of Tokoji.

Fortunately the city
of Hagi had a large number of inhabitants, and when the crowd divided more or
less in half, each procession was composed of a sizeable throng. The foreigners
found this more annoying than the kirin: they showed signs of ill humour at the
constant staring, and would be even more irritated by the distance of their
lodging place from the castle, and the guards and other restrictions placed on
them for their protection. The kirin walked as it always did, with a
deliberate, graceful step, aware of everything, alarmed by nothing,
inexhaustibly gentle.