The Harsh Cry of the Heron (45 page)

He breathed out
deeply. ‘Tell me what you want from Lord Otori. Let us negotiate together.’

‘There is nothing
that can be negotiated except by his overthrow and death,’ Zenko replied,
displaying his rage. ‘In this you are either with me or against me.’

Taku retreated a
little into caution. ‘Let me consider it. I will talk to you again tomorrow.
And you, too: reflect on your actions. Does your desire for vengeance warrant
unleashing civil war?’

‘Very well,’ Zenko
said. ‘Oh, before you go: I forgot to give you these.’ He drew a bamboo
container from inside his robe and held it out. Taku took it with foreboding:
he recognized it as a letter carrier, used across the Three Countries. The ends
were sealed with wax and stamped with the Otori crest, but this one had
been" opened.

‘It is from Lord
Otori, I believe,’ Zenko said, and laughed. ‘I hope it will influence your
decision.’

Taku walked swiftly
from the garden, expecting at any moment to hear the rush through the air of
arrow or knife; and left the residence without any further farewells. His own
guards waited at the gate with the horses. He took Ryume’s bridle and mounted
swiftly.

‘Lord Muto,’ the man
beside him said quietly.

‘What is it?’

‘Your horse was
coughing earlier, as though he could not breathe.’

‘It’s probably the
spring air. It is heavy with pollen tonight.’ He dismissed the man’s anxieties,
having far greater ones of his own.

At his own lodging
place he told the men not to unsaddle the horses, but to keep them ready, and
to prepare the two mares for the journey. Then he went inside to where Sada was
waiting for him. She was still dressed.

‘We are leaving,’ he
told her.

‘What did you
discover?’

‘Zenko has not only
made some deal with Akio, he is also in alliance with the foreigners. He
professes to have accepted their religion, and in return they are arming him.’
He held out the letter holder to her. ‘He has intercepted Takeo’s
correspondence. That is why we have heard nothing from him.’

Sada took the tube
and drew out the letter. Her eyes raced over it. ‘He asks you to go at once to
Inuyama - but this will already be weeks late. Surely he will have left by now?’

‘We must still go
there: we will leave tonight. The moon is bright enough to ride by. If he has
left Inuyama I must follow him across the borders. He must return and bring the
armies back from the East. Wake Maya; she will have to come with us. I can’t
leave her to be discovered by Akio. In Inuyama you will both be safe.’

Maya was dreaming one
of the strangely coloured animal dreams in which her brother, whose face she
had now glimpsed, appeared in different guises, sometimes accompanied by
spirits. He was always murderous, armed with fearful weapons, and he always
looked at her in a manner she found inexplicably chilling, as though there were
some complicity between them, as though he knew all her secrets. He had some
kind of cat soul like hers. This night he was whispering her name, which
frightened her, for she had not known that he knew it; she woke to find it was
Sada, speaking quietly in her ear.

‘Get up, get dressed.
We are leaving.’

Unquestioning, she
did as she was told, for the winter months had taught her obedience.

‘We are going to
Inuyama to see your father,’ Taku said as he swung her up onto the mare’s back.

‘Why are we going in
the middle of the night?’

‘I didn’t feel like
waiting till morning.’

As the horses trotted
down the street towards the high road, Sada said, ‘Will your brother allow you
to leave?’

‘That is why we are
going now. He may have us ambushed or pursued. Be armed and prepared to fight.
I suspect some trap.’

Hofu was not a walled
city, and its trade and port activities meant people came and went at all
hours, following the moon and the tides; on a night like this, at the beginning
of spring with the moon nearly full, there were other travellers on the road,
and the small group - Taku, Sada, Maya and the four guards - was not stopped or
questioned. Shortly after dawn they halted at an inn to eat the first meal and
drink hot tea.

As soon as they were
alone in the small eating room, Maya said to Taku, ‘What has happened?’

‘I’ll tell you a
little for your own safety. Your uncle Arai and his wife are concocting a plot
against your father. We thought we could contain him, but the situation has
suddenly grown more threatening. Your father should return at once.’

Taku’s face was lined
with fatigue, and his voice more serious than she had ever heard it.

‘How can my uncle and
aunt behave in this fashion, when their sons live in our household?’ Maya
demanded, outraged. ‘My mother should be told at once. The boys should die!’

‘You are hardly your
father’s child,’ Sada said. ‘Where does this fierceness come from?’ But her
voice was affectionate and admiring.

‘Your father hopes no
one will have to die,’ Taku told her. ‘That is why we must bring him back. Only
he has the prestige and strength to prevent the outbreak of war.’

‘Anyway, Hana is to
leave for Hagi this very day.’ Sada drew Maya close and sat with her arms round
her. ‘She is to spend the summer with your mother and your little brother.’

‘That is worse!
Mother should be warned. I’ll go to Hagi and tell her what Hana is really like!’

‘No, you will stay
with us,’ Taku replied, placing his arm around Sada’s shoulders. They sat in
silence for a few moments. Like a family, Maya thought. I’ll never forget this:
the food that tasted so good when I was so hungry, the fragrant scent of tea,
the feel of the spring breeze, the light changing as huge white clouds race
across the sky.

Sada and Taku with
me, so alive, so brave, the sense of the days on the road, stretching ahead.
The danger . . .

The day continued
fair and fine. Around noon the breeze died down, the clouds disappeared into
the northeast, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue. Sweat began to darken the
horses’ necks and flanks as they left the flat coastal plain and began to climb
towards the first pass. The forest deepened around them; occasionally an early
cicada made a tentative strumming. Maya began to feel tired. The rhythm of the
horse’s gait, the warmth of the afternoon made her drowsy. She thought she was
dreaming, and suddenly saw Hisao; she snapped awake.

‘Someone is following
us!’

Taku held up his
hand, and they halted. All three of them heard it: the drumming of hoof beats,
coming up the slope.

‘Ride on with Maya,’
Taku said to Sada. ‘We will delay them. There are not too many, a dozen at
most. We will catch up with you.’

He spoke a quick
order to the men; unslinging their bows, they turned their horses off the road
and vanished among the trunks of bamboo.

‘Go,’ he ordered
Sada; reluctantly she set her horse into a canter and Maya followed. They rode
fast for a while, but as the horses began to tire, Sada halted and looked back.

‘Maya, what do you
hear?’

She thought she heard
the clash of steel, the whinnying of horses, shouts and battle cries, and
another sound, cold and brutal, that echoed through the pass, sending birds
fluttering into the air, screeching in alarm. Sada~ heard it too.

‘They have firearms,’
she exclaimed. ‘Stay here - no, ride on, hide. I must go back. I can’t leave
Taku.’

‘Nor can I,’ Maya
muttered, turning the weary mare back in the direction they had come, but at
that moment in the distance they saw a cloud of dust and heard the galloping
hooves, saw the horse’s grey coat and black mane.

‘He’s coming,’ Sada
cried in relief.

Taku’s sword was in
his hand, his arm covered in blood - his own or someone else’s, it was
impossible to know. He shouted something when he saw them, but Maya could not
make out the words, for even as he uttered them the horse, Ryume, was falling;
it was on its knees, then on its side. It happened so quickly: Ryume had
dropped dead, throwing Taku onto the road.

Immediately Sada
galloped towards him, the mare snorting and wild-eyed in the presence of death.
Taku struggled to his feet. She pulled the mare to a halt beside him, seized
his outstretched arm and swung him up behind her.

He’s all right, Maya
thought with the clarity of relief. He could not do that if he were injured.

Taku was not badly
injured, though there were many dead on the road behind him, his own men and
most of the assailants. He could feel one cut smarting on his face, another on
his sword arm. He was aware of the strength of Sada’s back as he held her, and
then the shot rang out again. He felt it hit him in the neck and tear through
him; and then he was falling, and Sada fell with him, and the horse on top of
them. From a great distance he heard Maya screaming. Ride, child, ride, he
wanted to say, but there was no time. His eyes were filled with the dazzle of
the blue sky above him: the light spun and dwindled. Time had come to an end.
He hardly had time to think,

I am dying, I must
concentrate on dying, before the darkness silenced his thoughts for ever.

Sada’s mare scrabbled
to her feet and trotted back to Maya’s, whinnying loudly. Both mares were
skittish, ready to bolt, despite their tiredness. With her Otori nature, Maya
was thinking of the horses; she must not let them escape. She leaned over and
caught Sada’s mare’s dangling reins. But then she did not know what to do next.
She was trembling all over; the horses were too; and she could not tear her
eyes away from where the three bodies lay in the road. The horse, Ryume,
further from her, then Sada and Taku entwined together in death.

She rode back towards
them, dismounted and knelt beside them, touching them, calling their names.

Sada’s eyes
fluttered: she was still alive.

The anguish in Maya’s
chest threatened to choke her. She had to open her mouth and scream, ‘Sada!’ As
if in response to the scream, two figures appeared suddenly in the road, just
beyond Ryume. She knew she should run from them, should take on invisibility or
cat form and escape into the forest: she was from the Tribe; she could outwit
anyone. But she was paralysed from shock and grief; furthermore, she did not
want to live in this new heartless world that had let Taku die beneath a blue
sky and bright sunshine.

She stood between the
two mares, holding their reins in each hand. The men came towards her. She had
barely glimpsed them the night before, in the dimly lit interior of the inn,
but she knew them at once. They were both armed, Akio with sword and knife,
Hisao with the firearm. They were from the Tribe: they would not spare her
because she was a child. I should at least fight, she thought, but stupidly she
did not want to let go of the mares.

The boy stared at
her, holding the firearm towards her, while his companion turned the bodies
over. Sada moaned slightly. Akio knelt, took his knife in his right hand and
swiftly cut her throat. He spat on Taku’s peaceful face.

‘Kotaro’s death is
nearly fully avenged,’ he said. ‘The two Muto have paid. Only the Dog left.’

The boy said, ‘But
who’s this, Father?’ His voice was puzzled, as though he thought he knew her.

‘A horse boy?’ the
man said. ‘Bad luck for him!’

He came towards her
and she tried to stare into his eyes, but he would not look at her. A terrible
fear took hold of her. She must not allow him to capture her. She only wanted
to die. She dropped the mares’ reins and, startled, they both pranced
backwards. Maya drew her knife from her belt and raised her hand to plunge it
into her throat.

Akio moved faster
than she had ever seen a human move, even faster than the previous night,
flying towards her and grasping her wrist. Her knife fell from it as he bent it
back.

‘But what horse boy
tries to cut his own throat?’ he said mockingly. ‘Like a warrior’s woman?’

Holding her with one
iron-strong hand, he pulled at her garments and thrust his other hand between
her legs. She screamed and struggled as he opened her fist. He smiled when he
saw the straight line across her palm.

" ‘So!’ he
exclaimed. ‘Now we know who was spying on us last night.’

Maya thought her life
was over. However, he went on, ‘This is Otori’s daughter, one of the twins: she
is marked as Kikuta. She may prove very useful to us. Therefore we will spare
her for now.’ He addressed Maya. ‘You know who I am?’

She knew but would
not answer.

‘I am Kikuta Akio,
the Master of your family. This is my son, Hisao.’

She already knew him,
for he looked exactly as he did in her dreams.

‘It’s true: I am
Otori Maya,’ she said; addressing Hisao. ‘What’s more, I am your sister . . .’

She wanted to tell
him more, but Akio transferred his grip to her neck, felt for the spot on the
artery, and held her until she lost consciousness.