SHE CAME IN on her knees, face to the ground. When Shigeru told her to sit, she did so reluctantly, her head kept low, eyes cast down. He studied her, noticing how she had made every effort to present herself: the faded robe was clean, her skin and hair clean too. He remembered the sharp planes of her face: they seemed more acute than ever, carved and hardened by grief. She had brought a companion with her, a girl of about fourteen or fifteen years, with the same high cheekbones and wide mouth. The girl did not venture into the room, but remained kneeling in the doorway.
“Lord Otori,” the older woman began, haltingly, “I do not merit your kindness. Your goodness is beyond words.”
“I trust your brother is recovered.”
“Thanks to your mercy. He is well, in himself, but…”
“Go on,” he prompted her. He listened impassively, neither flattered nor offended. Her words were formal, appropriate to her role as supplicant. He also felt his role descend on him, timeless and impersonal, nothing to do with his own seventeen-year-old self or his personality-the role of leadership he had been born into and trained for.
“He is losing his sight. His eyes became infected after the… after the fire, and he is nearly blind. My husband does not want him with us: it is too much of a burden, and there is no one left from his family to look after him.”
He was aware of her conflict-torn between her duty as a wife, her love for her brother, her role as headman’s wife, her religious beliefs, shame that her husband would consider her older brother a burden. He was not surprised that her voice broke again and tears began to flow silently.
“I am very sorry to hear it,” Shigeru replied. For a man of Nesutoro’s age, too old to be taught the traditional skills of the blind-massage or lute-playing-blindness usually meant becoming a beggar.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I could not think of anyone to turn to but Lord Otori.”
“What can I do for you?” He was amazed at her boldness, the same boldness with which she had spoken to him the previous year.
Irie, who was sitting next to Shigeru, leaned forward and whispered, “I would not advise giving money or any other form of support. It would be misinterpreted by many and would set a dangerous precedent.”
The woman waited until Irie had finished speaking and then said quietly, “I am not asking you for money. I would never do that. My brother expressly forbade it. But many of his people live peacefully in the West, among the Seishuu. My brother seeks your permission to leave the Middle Country and join them. All we are asking from Lord Otori is a letter stating this.”
“Will he be allowed across the border? And how will he travel if he is nearly blind?”
“There is a young woman who will go with him.” She turned and indicated the girl on the veranda. “My second daughter.” The girl raised her head for a moment; he could see she had the same strong face as her mother.
“Your husband does not mind if she leaves?”
“We have four daughters and three sons. We can spare one child for a man who lost all his children. I come with my husband’s permission. I would never act against his wishes, as Lord Otori already knows.”
“Lord Otori may not recall every detail of the lives of everyone he meets,” Kiyoshige said, not knowing that Shigeru did recall everything about the night-the injured, feverish man; the woman daring to address him directly; her husband’s anger and incomprehension.
“Have the letter written for the two of them,” he said to Irie. “They have my permission to travel to the West. I will stamp it with my seal.”
“YOU WILL NOT become like our father?” Takeshi said later, when the brothers were alone.
“What do you mean?” Shigeru replied.
“Consulting priests all the time, taking advice from all sorts of undesirable people.” Takeshi caught his older brother’s look of disapproval and said rapidly, “I don’t mean any disrespect. But everyone talks about it and deplores it. Now you receive this woman and extend your protection to her brother… why? It seems so strange. I don’t want to hear people deploring my older brother’s behavior.”
“What people say about it should not matter, as long as I hold the behavior to be correct.”
“But your reputation is important,” Takeshi said. “If people admire you and love you, they are more likely to do what you want. The more popular you are, the safer you are.”
“What are you talking about?” Shigeru smiled.
“Don’t laugh at me. You should be on your guard. I hear things, you know. I keep my ears open, and moreover Kiyoshige and Kahei tell me a lot. You don’t go to the places Kiyoshige takes me to.”
“You should not go to them, either!” Shigeru interjected.
“People don’t take any notice of me after a while, especially if they are drinking. I pretend to be still a child…”
“You still are a child!”
“Not really,” Takeshi replied. “But I don’t mind acting like one. Often I pretend I’m asleep and curl up on the floor while they loosen their tongues above my head.”
“And what do these loose tongues have to say?”
“I am not being disloyal myself. I am simply repeating what is said because I think you should know.”
“I understand.”
“They fear our father’s indecisiveness in the face of Tohan aggression. They are concerned about the role our uncles play in the clan’s decisions. They predict that the East will be handed over to the Tohan rather than defended.”
“Not while I live,” Shigeru said. “We will spend the autumn and winter preparing for war; it is my intention to start gathering men and training them.”
Takeshi’s eyes brightened with excitement. “Just don’t start a war until I’m old enough to fight!”
By now Shigeru had seen many men die. He would never forget the moment when life left the body of the first man he had killed-Miura. He did not fear his own death, though he still intended to make it significant, but the idea of Takeshi’s death was unendurable. All the more reason not to delay the confrontation with the Tohan. But if it is next year, as it probably will be, Shigeru thought, at fourteen, he will not be too young to take part. How can I keep him out of the battle?
“Anything else you can tell me?” he asked.
“Maruyama Naomi’s husband is in favor of an alliance with the Tohan. This is causing unease among the other Seishuu families-especially the Arai. People say we should join with the Seishuu before they support Iida Sadamu and we find ourselves caught between them and pincered.”
Shigeru sat in silence for a while, remembering his earlier thoughts on an alliance through marriage with the Seishuu. “I have never been to the West,” he said finally. “I would like to go there; I would like to see how they arrange affairs in Maruyama, for instance.”
“Take me with you,” Takeshi begged. “There is still plenty of time before the snows begin-and autumn is a fine season for traveling. And let’s go to Kumamoto too. I want to meet Arai Daiichi-they say he is a mighty warrior.”
“The eldest son?”
“Yes-he is only young, but he is said to be the best swordsman in the Three Countries! But he is probably not as good as my elder brother,” Takeshi added loyally.
“I suspect you will be a better swordsman than I,” Shigeru said. “Particularly if you go to Matsuda Shingen at Terayama.”
“I would like to be taught by Matsuda-but I don’t know that I could stand all those months in the temple.”
“You would learn a lot. Maybe you should spend the winter there. We will call on Matsuda on the way.”
“On the way back,” Takeshi pleaded.
“You should stay at least a year,” Shigeru said, thinking, He will be far from the battlefield there.
Takeshi groaned. “Too much studying.”
“Training the body is of no use unless you also train the mind. And besides, the study is fascinating in itself, as well as being a means to an end.”