44
After her daughter, Mariko, went to Inuyama as a hostage at the age of seven, Maruyama Naomi traveled twice yearly to Iida Sadamu’s city, now recognized as the capital of the Three Countries. Sometimes when the weather was settled, she overcame her fears of the sea and took a boat from Hofu; more often she went by way of Yamagata, frequently stopping for several days there in order to visit the temple at Terayama, and then following the highway to Inuyama. She rode on horseback through her own domain to the western border of the Middle Country, but from there on traveled in a palanquin, careful to present herself as a fragile woman, no threat to the warlord who now held her daughter and would use her in any way he could to gain control over her domain and over the West. Iida was arming and training more men, forcing more of the smaller families to submit to him or be annihilated. Mostly they submitted but reluctantly; risings against Iida erupted frequently among both warriors and farmers, leading to increased suppression and persecution, and the Seishuu were increasingly concerned that he would take by force what he could see no way to gain through marriage.
Iida made a point of always receiving her himself when she came to Inuyama, of treating her with great courtesy, heaping gifts on her, flattering and praising her. She found his attentions distasteful yet could not avoid them without insulting him. Each time she saw her daughter, Mariko had grown; she took after her father, would not be called beautiful but had his kindness and intelligence, and did her utmost to spare her mother pain. In company she seemed resigned to her fate but wept silently in private, struggling to control her feelings and begging her mother’s forgiveness. She was homesick for Maruyama, for its gentler climate and for the freedom she had known in childhood. In Inuyama, though Lady Iida treated her kindly, she was, like all women in the deep interior, always afraid of the sudden rages of the warlord and the brutality of his retainers.
Naomi refined the art of hiding her feelings, of appearing to be pliable and submissive while retaining the independence and autonomy of her clan and her country. She would give no one any excuse to kill her or usurp her. Carefully and methodically she built up a network of support within her domain and throughout the West. She traveled a great deal, from one side of the Three Countries to the other, in spring and autumn, usually in some splendor with her senior retainer Sugita Haruki and at least twenty men at arms, as well as her companion, Sachie, and other women; sometimes less ostentatiously, with only Sachie and a handful of men. Often the demands of government meant Sugita could serve her best by staying in Maruyama.
Occasionally Naomi went by way of Shirakawa and Noguchi. Her mother’s sister was married to Lord Shirakawa, and strong bonds of affection tied the two women; both of them had daughters who were hostages, for the Shirakawa’s eldest daughter, Kaede, had been sent to Noguchi castle when she turned seven. There were fears that the girl was not well treated there: the Noguchi, besides being traitors who had caused the downfall of the Otori, had the reputation of cruelty. Lord Noguchi, it was said, strove to impress Iida by equaling him in brutality. The year Mariko turned eleven and Kaede thirteen (and Tomasu in Mino fifteen), Lady Maruyama visited the castle and was disturbed to find there was no sign of the Shirakawa girl among the women of the deep interior. When she made inquiries, replies were evasive, even dismissive, and her fears intensified. She noticed Arai Daiichi among the castle guard. Though his father was in ill health back in Kumamoto and he had three younger brothers ready to dispute the domain, he had not been allowed to return home; it seemed he would lose his inheritance by default, Iida’s punishment for the approaches he had made to Otori Shigeru, before Yaegahara, nine years ago.
Naomi was staying in one of the mansions that belonged to Noguchi yet lay beyond the castle walls. The breeze was warm and soft, the cherry blossoms in the gardens on the point of bursting into flower. She was restless and almost febrile. The onset of spring had unsettled her; her very existence seemed intolerable to her. She slept badly, tormented by desire, longing for Shigeru’s presence, not knowing how long she could continue this half-life; her entire womanhood seemed to have been spent in this semideprived state, neither married nor free, sustained by the barest grains of memories. Sometimes in her darkest moments she contemplated sacrificing her child for the chance of marrying Shigeru; they would retreat to Maruyama and prepare for open battle. Then she would remember Mariko’s sweetness and courage, and shame and remorse would swamp her. All these emotions were compounded by her anxiety for Shirakawa Kaede, not only for the girl’s sake but also because, after Mariko, Kaede was her closest female relative-heir to Maruyama if she and her daughter were to die.
As she had hoped, Arai came that evening to call on her. The visit was made openly: they were both from the Seishuu; it was to be expected that they would meet. Muto Shizuka accompanied him. Naomi greeted her with mixed feelings. Shizuka had delivered Shigeru’s farewell letter to Maruyama, and just to recall that time now filled Naomi with the same confusion of grief, jealousy, and despair. Six years had passed, but her emotions had become no less intense. Their paths had crossed from time to time, and Shizuka had brought some news of Shigeru. Now Naomi waited with the same blend of feelings: she would hear news of him, but Shizuka had been with him, had heard his voice, knew all his secrets, perhaps even felt his touch. This last thought was unendurable to her. He had promised her he would lie with no one but her, but six years… surely no man could restrain himself for so long. And Shizuka was so attractive…
They exchanged courtesies, and Sachie brought tea. After she had served her guests, Naomi said, “Lord Arai is now captain of the guard. I suppose you rarely see Lord Shirakawa’s daughter.”
He drank and said, “I would be happy if I only saw her rarely, for that would mean she was treated as she should be and welcomed into the Noguchi family. I see all too much of her, and so do all the guards!”
“At least she is alive,” Naomi exclaimed. “I was afraid she had died and that the Noguchi were concealing it.”
“They treat her like a servant,” Arai replied angrily. “She lives with the maids and is expected to share their duties. Her father is not allowed to see her. She is just at the point of becoming a woman; she is a very beautiful girl. The guards lay bets on who will be the first to seduce her. I do my best to protect her. They know I’ll kill anyone who lays a hand on her. But it is shameful to treat a girl from her family in such a way!” He broke off abruptly. “I cannot say more; I’ve sworn allegiance to Lord Noguchi, for better or worse, and I must live with my fate.”
“But not forever,” Naomi said in a low voice. Arai glanced at Shizuka, who seemed to listen for a moment before nodding her head slightly to him.
He said in a whisper, “Do you know what Lord Otori’s intentions are? We hear little of him-men say he has gone soft and has abandoned honor for the sake of being allowed to live.”
“I believe he is very patient,” she said. “As we all must be. But I am not in contact with him.” She looked at Shizuka, thinking she might speak, but Shizuka said nothing.
“I have had to learn patience here,” Arai replied bitterly. “We are divided and made helpless; we all sit separately in the dark regretting what might have been. Will anything ever change? I will lose Kumamoto altogether if my father dies and I am still festering here. Better to act and fail than to continue like this!”