The Harsh Cry of the Heron (49 page)

Takeo inclined his
head slightly. ‘I am the legal head of the Otori clan, and hold the Three
Countries lawfully. My rule is just and blessed by Heaven. I do not speak of
these things to boast, but to tell you that while I seek your support, and the
favour of the Emperor - indeed, am prepared to submit to you as the Emperor’s
general - it must be on conditions that protect my country and my heirs.’

‘We’ll discuss all
that later. First let’s eat and drink.’

In keeping with the
austere room, the food was delicate: the elegant seasonal dishes of the
capital, each one offering an extraordinary experience to eye and tongue. Rice
wine was also served, but Takeo tried to drink sparingly, knowing the
negotiations might stretch on until nightfall. Both Okuda and Kono joined them
for the meal, and the conversation was good-humoured and wide ranging, covering
painting, architecture, the specialties of the Three Countries compared with
those of the capital, poetry. Towards the end of the meal Okuda, who had drunk
more than anyone else, expressed again his fervent admiration of the kirin.

‘I long to see it
with my own eyes,’ Saga said, and seemingly impulsively leaped to his feet. ‘Let
us go there now. It is a pleasant afternoon. We will look at the ground where
our contest is to take place.’ He took Takeo’s arm as they walked back to the
main entrance and said confidentially, ‘And I must meet your champions. Lord
Miyoshi will be one, I presume, and some other of your warriors.’

‘The second will be
Sugita Hiroshi. The third you have already met. It is my daughter, Lady
Maruyama.’

Saga’s grip tightened
as he halted; he pulled Takeo around so he could look him directly in the face.
‘So Lord Kono reported, but I assumed it was a jest.’ He stared at Takeo, the
hooded eyes piercing. Then he laughed abruptly, and lowered his voice further. ‘You
intended to submit all along. The contest is only a formality for you? I see
your reasoning: it saves your face.’

T don’t want to
mislead you,’ Takeo replied. ‘It is far from a formality. I take it extremely
seriously, as does my daughter. The stakes could not be higher.’ But even as he
spoke, he felt doubt stir in him. What had his trust in the Masters of the Way
of the Houou led him into? He was afraid Saga would take Shigeko’s substitution
as an insult and refuse to negotiate at all.

However, after a
moment of surprised silence the warlord laughed again. ‘It will make a very
pretty spectacle. The beautiful Lady Maruyama competes against the most
powerful lord of the Eight Islands.’ He chuckled to himself as he released
Takeo’s arm and strode along the veranda, calling out in a loud voice, ‘Bring
my bow and arrows, Okuda. I want to show them to my rival.’

They waited under the
deep eaves while Okuda went to the armoury. He returned carrying the bow
himself: it was over an arm-span long and lacquered in red and black. A
retainer followed holding the decorated quiver in which a bundle of ten arrows
nestled. They were no less impressive, bound with gold lacquered cord; Saga took
one from the quiver and held it out to show them, a hollow arrow of paulownia
wood with a blunted end, fletched with white feathers.

‘Heron feathers,’
Saga said, running his finger very gently over them and glancing at Takeo, who
was all too conscious of the heron crest of the Otori on the back of his robe.

‘I hope Lord Otori
does not take offence. Heron feathers give the best flight, I’ve found.’

He handed the arrow
back to his retainer and took the bow from Okuda, stringing and flexing it with
one effortless movement. ‘I believe it is almost as tall as Lady Maruyama,’ he
said turning to Shigeko. ‘Have you ever taken part in a dog hunt before?’

‘No, we do not hunt
dogs in the West,’ she replied.

‘It is a great sport.
The dogs are so eager to join in! Really, one can’t help but pity them. Of
course, we do not aim to kill them. You must declare where you intend to hit. I
would like to hunt a lion or a tiger. That would be a more worthy quarry!

‘Speaking of tigers,’
he went on with his characteristic rapid shift, giving the bow back and
slipping into his sandals at the step. ‘We must remember to talk about trade.
You send ships to Shin and Tenjiku, I believe?’

Takeo nodded in
assent.

‘And you have
received the southern barbarians? They are of particular interest to us.’

‘We bring gifts from
Tenjiku, Silla, Shin and the Southern Isles for Lord Saga and for His Divine
Majesty,’ Takeo replied.

‘Excellent,
excellent!’

The palanquin bearers
had been lounging in the shade outside the gate. Now they leaped to their feet
and bowed humbly while their masters climbed inside their elegant boxes and
were conveyed, with no great degree of comfort, to the mansion that had become
the Otori residence. The heron banners fluttered above the gate and along the street.
The main building was situated on the western side of a large compound: the
eastern side was taken up with stables, where the Maruyama horses stamped and
tossed their heads, and in front of these stables, in an enclosure of bamboo
posts roofed on one side with thatch, stood the kirin. Around the gate, quite a
large crowd had gathered to try to get a glimpse of the kirin: children had
climbed into the trees, and one enterprising young man was hurrying up with a
ladder.

Lord Saga was the
only person in the group who had not seen the fabulous creature before.
Everyone stared at him in gleeful anticipation. They were not disappointed.
Even Saga, with all his enormous self-control, could not prevent a look of
utter astonishment crossing his face.

‘It is much taller
than I thought,’ he exclaimed. ‘It must be immensely strong, and swift.’

‘It is very gentle,’
Shigeko said, approaching the kirin. At that moment Hiroshi came from the
stables leading Tenba, who was prancing and cavorting at the end of the rein.

‘Lady Maruyama,’ he
exclaimed. ‘I did not expect you back so soon.’ There was a moment of silence.
Takeo noticed Hiroshi glance at Saga and go pale. Then the young man bowed as
best he could while controlling the horse, and said awkwardly, T have been
riding Tenba.’

The kirin had begun
to pace with excitement when it saw the three creatures it loved the most.

‘I will put Tenba
back with her,’ Hiroshi said. ‘She misses him. After their separation she seems
more attached to him than ever!’

Saga spoke to him as
if he were a groom. ‘Bring the kirin out. I want to see it closer.’

‘Certainly, lord,’ he
replied with another deep bow, the colour returning to his neck and cheeks.

‘The horse is very
good-looking,’ Saga remarked as Hiroshi tied Tenba to cords strung from each
side of the stall. ‘Spirited. And quite tall.’

‘We have brought many
horses from Maruyama as gifts,’ Takeo told him. ‘They are bred and raised by
Lady Maruyama and her senior retainer Lord Sugita Hiroshi.’ As Hiroshi led the
kirin out, the red silk cord in his hand, Takeo added, ‘This is Sugita.’

Saga gave a
perfunctory nod to Hiroshi: his attention was totally taken up by the kirin. He
reached out and stroked the fawn-patterned skin. ‘Softer than a woman!’ he
exclaimed. ‘Imagine having this spread on your floor or bed.’ As if suddenly
aware of the pained silence he apologized, ‘Only after it died of old age,
naturally.’

The kirin bent its
long neck down to Shigeko and gently nuzzled her cheek.

‘You are its
favourite, I see,’ Saga said, turning his admiring gaze onto her. ‘I
congratulate you, Lord Otori. The Emperor will be dazzled by your present.
Nothing like it has ever been seen before in the capital.’

The words were
generous, but Takeo thought he heard envy and rancour in the other man’s voice.
After inspecting the horses further, and presenting two mares and three
stallions to Lord Saga, they returned to Saga’s residence, not to the austere
room where they had been before but to one of the flamboyantly decorated
audience halls, where a dragon flew across one wall and a tiger prowled across
another. Saga did not sit on the floor here, but on a carved wooden seat from
Shin, almost like an emperor himself. More of his retainers attended the meeting;
Takeo was aware of their curiosity towards himself and in particular towards
Shigeko. It was unusual here for a woman to sit among men in this fashion and
take part in their discussions of policy. He felt they were inclined to take
offence at such a breach of custom; yet the lineage of Maruyama was even more
ancient than that of Saga and his Eastern clan, or of any of his vassals - as
ancient as the imperial family, who were descended through legendary empresses
from the Sun Goddess herself.

First they discussed
the ceremonies surrounding the dog hunt, the days of feasting and rituals, the
Emperor’s procession, the rules of the contest itself. Two circles of rope were
set up on the ground, one inside the other. In each round six dogs would be
released, one at a time. The archer would gallop around the central ring:
points were awarded as to where the dog was hit. It was a game of skill, not of
butchery: severely wounded or dead dogs were considered undesirable. The dogs
were white, so any blood showed immediately. Shigeko asked one or two technical
questions: the width of the arena, whether there were any restrictions on the
size of the bow or the arrows. Saga answered them precisely, humouring her and
raising smiles among his retainers.

‘And now we must proceed
to the outcome,’ he said affably. ‘If Lady Maruyama wins, what are your
conditions, Lord Otori?’

‘That the Emperor
recognize myself and my wife as the lawful rulers of the Three Countries; that
you support us and our heirs; that you command Arai Zenko to sub-. mit to us.
In return we will swear allegiance to you and the Emperor, for the sake of the
unity and peace of the Eight Islands; we will provide food, men and horses for
your future campaigns and open our ports to you for trade. The peace and prosperity
of the Three Countries depend on our system of government, and this must remain
unchanged.’

‘Apart from this last
matter, which I would like to discuss with you further, that’s all perfectly
acceptable to me,’ Saga said, smiling confidently.

He is not troubled by
any of my conditions, for be does not expect to have to consider them, Takeo
reflected. ‘And Lord Saga’s conditions?’ he inquired.

‘That you retire
immediately from public life and hand over the Three Countries to Arai Zenko,
who has already sworn allegiance to me and is the legal heir of his father Arai
Daiichi; that you either take your own life or go into exile on Sado Island;
that your son is sent to me as a hostage; and that you give me your daughter in
marriage.’

Both words and tone were
insulting, and Takeo felt rage begin to simmer within him. He saw the
expression on the men’s faces, their shared awareness of the power and lust of
their overlord, the gratification it caused them, their pleasure at his
humiliation.

Why did I come here?
Better to die in battle than to submit to this. He sat without moving a muscle,
aware that he had no way out and no other options: either he agreed to Saga’s
proposals or he rejected them, fled the capital like a criminal and prepared,
if he and his companions lived long enough to make it back to the borders, for
war.

‘In either case,’
Saga went on, ‘I believe Lady Maruyama would be a fine wife for me, and I ask
you to consider my offer very carefully.’

T heard of your
recent loss, and I offer you my condolences,’ Takeo said.

‘My late wife was a
good woman: she gave me four healthy children and looked after all my other
children; I believe the number is ten or twelve now. I think a marriage between
our families has a great deal to recommend it.’

All the pain that
Takeo had felt when Kaede had been abducted from him swept up from his belly.
It seemed outrageous that he should hand over his beloved daughter to this
brutal man, older than himself, a man who already had several concubines, who
would never treat her as a ruler in her own right, who simply wanted to own
her. Yet this was the most powerful man in the Eight Islands; the honour and
the political advantage of such a marriage were huge. The offer had been made
in public: the insult if he were to reject it outright would be no less public.

Shigeko sat with her
eyes cast down, giving no indication of her reaction to the discussion.

Takeo said, ‘The
honour is too great for us. My daughter is still very young, but I thank you
from my heart. I would like to discuss the matter with my wife -Lord Saga may
not be aware that she shares the government of the Three Countries equally with
me -1 am sure, like me, she will be overjoyed by such a union between us.’

‘I would have liked
to spare your wife’s life, since she has an infant child, but if she is your
equal in government she must also be your equal in death or exile,’ Saga said
with some irritation. ‘But let us say that if Lady Maruyama should win, she may
return to discuss her marriage with her mother.’

Shigeko spoke for the
first time. ‘I also have some conditions, if I may speak.’

Saga glanced at his
men and smiled indulgently. ‘Let us hear them, lady.’