“There is another image,” she said abruptly. “Lord Otori should know…” Again she glanced directly at him, but after that one look, she lowered her eyes again. Her voice became softer-he had to strain to hear it, leaning forward toward her. “It is the mother and child,” she whispered. “She is the mother of God, the child is God’s son. Our way honors women and their children and seeks to protect them against the cruelty of men. God will punish those who persecute us-even the Iida lords.”
17
When they left early the following morning, smoke still rose from the charred beams and thatch; it tasted raw in Shigeru’s throat. The smell of burning made the young horses nervous, and they jibbed and pig-rooted as the riders followed a narrow track through the rice fields and then up the side of a low range of hills, where the dry fields of vegetables-pumpkins, beans, onions, and carrots-gave way to bamboo groves and then to an upland forest of beech and cedar. They went in single file, which gave no chance for conversation, but when they stopped at the head of the range to let the horses drink from a shallow pool filled by a spring, Kiyoshige remarked, “So this strange sect is to come under your protection?”
“To tell you the truth,” Shigeru replied, “the sect does not bother me one way or the other. They seem harmless enough. But as long as they are Otori, I will protect them against the Tohan. If they are to be eradicated, it will be our decision. We will not allow the Tohan to decide such things for us.”
Irie said, “This is an entirely reasonable position. No one can find fault with it.”
“I’ve been thinking about Kitano,” Shigeru went on. “We are within his domain-my first instinct was to try to keep this from him. But he will be told as soon as we arrive in Chigawa. So I believe it is better to confront him head-on and send messengers ourselves, demanding that his sons be recalled from Inuyama and that he himself come to Chigawa to reaffirm his vows of loyalty to my father and myself.”
“And if the Iida do not allow the boys to return?”
“We must find some way of applying pressure so they comply.”
“Like what?” Kiyoshige asked. “There’s not much we can bargain with.”
“Lord Irie?”
“I’m afraid Kiyoshige is right: we can threaten further attacks, but that’s more likely to enrage and harden the Iida than persuade them. And we must be careful not to be drawn into full-scale war, for we are not prepared for it yet.”
“How long would it take the Otori to be ready for war with the Tohan?”
“Next year, the year after.”
“We are a match for the Tohan right now!” Kiyoshige said hotly.
“Man for man, I don’t doubt it, but they outnumber us; they have more foot soldiers.”
“All the more reason to keep men like Kitano loyal,” Shigeru said. “We must also start increasing our men and equipment as soon as I return to Hagi.”
THE TOWNSPEOPLE OF CHIGAWA were astonished and elated at the unexpected appearance of the heir to the clan. Like the villagers, they had feared they had been forgotten and before much longer would find themselves Tohan. Shigeru and his men were given an enthusiastic welcome and invited to the largest inn. Messengers were sent to Tsuwano. Irie and Kiyoshige waited in the town for Kitano’s response and Harada’s return with reinforcements, making the arrangements necessary to house and feed so many men and horses. Two days later, Shigeru left with his own men to ride south, to see with his own eyes what the Tohan were doing to his people there.
Several young men from the town came with him, eager to act as guides and, he thought, probably hoping for a skirmish with the hated Tohan. They were typical of the people of the East, small and wiry, energetic and quick-tempered. As well as weapons, they brought with them ropes and lamps and a pan of coals with which to light wicks. Shigeru wondered why, but as they rode south, the reason became clearer. South of Chigawa, the limestone upland of Yaegahara extended toward the border like a pointing finger. The road itself curved away from the border. The valley seemed open all the way to Inuyama.
“Surely we should have this area well guarded,” he said. “It is a gateway to the Middle Country.”
“The land is treacherous through there,” the oldest of his guides said, a man of about nineteen or twenty called Komori. “If you don’t know the way, it’s easy to wander off the track and fall into the caverns: many people disappear and never find their way out. Yet to see the border itself, we should go that way, if Lord Otori will trust us to guide him.”
“Komori knows this country above and below,” one of the others said. “The Underground Emperor, that’s what we call him.”
Komori grinned and pointed to the ropes on his saddle bow. “These are the Emperor’s jewels. You can buy them for a few coins in any shop in Chigawa, but underground they’re worth more than all the treasure in the capital.”
They left the road and headed east through the long summer grass bright with yellow daisies, small purple orchids, blue bugle, and white yarrow. The grass seed-heads were forming in delicate, foamy tassels. Butterflies, blue and yellow, fluttered around the horses’ hoofs. Tracks made by foxes, deer, and wild boar crisscrossed the plain. There were few trees-occasionally a clump of alders grew around depressions where water gathered, and shrubs clung to the sides of the deep caverns, often hiding the mouth completely. Shigeru could see how easy it would be to miss the path and plunge into one of these natural prisons. No one would know where you were, and there would be no hope of rescue.
They had ridden for about three hours, skirting numerous deep holes, while Komori named each of them for Shigeru-Hell’s Mouth, Lair of the Wolf, the Cauldron-names created by humans and intended to describe them, yet to Shigeru’s mind no human language could encompass the menace of the dark openings, gaping suddenly and unexpectedly in the peaceful summer landscape.
Kites mewed above them, and once in the distance they saw eagles circling on the warm air. Occasionally a hare started up at their approach, bounding away in huge desperate leaps, its eyes bulging. Pheasants and partridge were also abundant, glossy in their summer plumage.
“It would be a good place for hawking,” Shigeru observed.
“You need your eyes on the ground, not in the skies,” Komori replied. “Few people come this way.”
They saw no one all morning; the plain indeed seemed deserted. So it was a surprise to come over the ridge of a slope and see in the valley beneath it a group of horsemen milling around the edge of one of the caverns. Several had dismounted and were peering over the rim, shouting and gesticulating.
“Tohan!” one of the men exclaimed, and Komori said, “Ah! Someone has fallen into the Ogre’s Storehouse!”
The men around him shouted in triumph and derision and drew their swords, waiting expectantly for Shigeru’s orders.
“Go forward slowly,” he said. “There is no need to attack unless they do. Have bows ready to cover our approach.”
The bowmen immediately drew off to one side. The Tohan below noticed the Otori coming, and their confusion increased. They saw they were outnumbered and at a hopeless disadvantage. Three of the men on foot leaped immediately over the edge into the cavern, plunging without a sound into the darkness. The rest turned their horses and urged them into a gallop. The riderless horses ran after them, leaving one man stumbling helplessly behind.
“Capture him, but don’t kill him,” Shigeru ordered.
The man fell to his knees as the horsemen surrounded him. He was carrying a carved bird perch with two hawks tethered by their jesses, trying to hold them upright and reach his sword at the same time. The birds shrieked and flapped in frenzy, striking out with their sharp curved beaks. Shigeru’s men disarmed the man before he could kill himself and brought him to Shigeru.