Shigeru said, “My father’s command to me was that I should take my own life only if Jato were lost. Jato came to me, as if by a miracle. Therefore, I must obey my father’s wishes and live in order to seek revenge.”
“The sword came to you?” His mother was shocked into speech. “Where is it?”
He indicated where it lay beside him-the hilt disguised, the scabbard borrowed.
“That is not Jato,” she said.
“I will not draw it to prove it to you. But it is Jato.”
His mother smiled. “Then we have nothing to fear. They cannot make you abdicate if you hold the Otori sword.”
Ichiro said, “Iida Sadamu, it is reported, hates you personally. Your uncles may be tempted to deliver you to him for their own gain. The Otori army has been almost annihilated. We are in no position to defend ourselves. You will be in great danger. You must go very carefully.”
“Do I hold any advantages?” Shigeru asked.
“You are the legal heir to the clan; the people love you and will not give up their support of you quickly.”
“And the Tohan also suffered huge losses,” Shigeru said. “Sadamu himself may not be able to attack the heart of the Middle Country or lay siege to Hagi. And maybe the Seishuu will stand by their pledges of alliance and come to our support.” And maybe the Tribe will be another check on Sadamu’s ambition, he reflected but did not speak of this.
“Well, that’s better than I thought,” Ichiro said.
SHIGERU GAVE ORDERS for the most stately procession possible under the circumstances to escort him to the castle. Old men and boys were rapidly assembled from the remnants of the household guards. Somewhat to his surprise, Miyoshi Kahei and his younger brother, Gemba, appeared among them; Gemba was only six years old.
“I am happy to see you alive,” Shigeru said to Kahei.
“Not as happy as we are to see Lord Shigeru,” the lad replied, his former boyishness and cheerfulness extinguished by what he had seen of war. “Kiyoshige’s death was terrible,” he added quietly, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “It must be avenged.”
“It will be,” Shigeru replied as quietly. “What news of your father?”
“He also lived. He is at the castle now. He sent my brother and me to be part of your escort, a pledge of his support in the coming months: many of our men died, but they have sons, the same age as me or Gemba; we will be your future army.”
“I am grateful to him and to you.”
“It is how the whole city, the whole country feels,” Kahei exclaimed. “As long as Lord Shigeru is alive, the whole clan lives!”
Shigeru had a new scabbard brought for Jato, removed the black sharkskin from the hilt, and carefully cleaned and polished the sword. He dressed in formal robes, subdued in color, embroidered with the Otori crest, and placed a small black hat on his head. Chiyo plucked the regrowth in his beard and redressed his hair. A little before noon, he set out for the castle. He rode one of the Mori horses, a gray with a black mane and tail, who reminded him of Kiyoshige’s dead stallion. His mother accompanied him in a palanquin.
His mother’s house lay some way from the center of the town, surrounded by other small estates, with tiled white walls and tree-filled gardens. Canals ran alongside the roads, swimming with lazy fish, and the air was full of the trickle and splash of water. In the gardens, azalea bushes bloomed like red flames, and the canal banks were lined with irises.
In the distance, other sounds could be heard, unrecognizable at first, then gradually distinguishing themselves into the beating of drums and gongs, people shouting, singing, and clapping their hands: the streets became crowded. The townsfolk were dressed in bright colors and wore strange-shaped hats and yellow or red scarves. They danced as if afflicted by madness or possessed by spirits. At the sight of Shigeru’s procession, their singing and their movements became more frenzied. The throngs of people parted as he rode between them, but their emotion rolled over him, consuming him until he felt no longer a human being, a man, but the embodiment of something ancient and indestructible.
This must never be allowed to pass away, he thought. I must live. I must have a son. If my wife will not give me one, I will have children with Akane. I will acknowledge her children and adopt them. No one can prevent me from making my own decisions now. He had hardly thought of either woman for days: now longing for Akane swept over him. He gazed toward the house beneath the pines, half expecting to catch a glimpse of her, but the gates were closed; the house seemed deserted. As soon as matters were under way in the castle, he would send a message to her. He would go to her that night. And he must speak to Moe as soon as possible to find out what had happened to her father and brothers. He feared they were dead, since the Yanagi had borne the brunt of the Tohan’s first onslaught while being attacked on the right-hand flank by their supposed allies, the Noguchi.
Endo Chikara and Miyoshi Satoru greeted him in front of the castle, welcoming him home and expressing their condolences for his father’s death. In contrast to the frenzy in the town, their mood was somber. No one could pretend that the Otori did not face complete disaster. They rode over the wooden bridge together; in the first bailey Shigeru dismounted and strode toward the entrance to the residence.
When they stepped inside, Endo said, “Lord Kitano will arrive tomorrow. He brings the Tohan demands.”
“Summon the elders and my uncles,” Shigeru replied. “We must discuss our position before we meet Kitano. My mother will also attend our meeting. Tell me when they are all assembled. In the meantime I must talk to my wife.”
Endo spoke to one of the maids and she disappeared along the veranda, returning a few moments later and whispering, “Lady Otori is waiting for you, Lord Otori.”
The room was dim after the brilliant sunshine, and he could not see Moe’s expression clearly as she bowed to the ground, then welcomed him. But the stiffness of her body and her stilted speech disclosed to him her grief for the dead and, he suspected, her disappointment that he was not among them. He knelt in front of her, able now to see her reddened eyes and blotched skin.
“I am very sorry,” he said. “I’m afraid you have suffered a great loss.”
“If you call the death of my father, all his sons, all our warriors, a great loss-yes, I have,” she replied with profound bitterness. “My marriage bound my family to you, to your rashness and foolhardiness. They would have done better to copy Kitano and Noguchi. Our house is wiped out. Our land is to be taken from us and given to Iida’s warriors.”
“This is still to be negotiated,” Shigeru said.
“What negotiation will bring my family back? My mother will kill herself rather than leave Kushimoto. They are all gone save me. You have destroyed the Yanagi.”
“Your father was loyal to my father and to me. Your family were not traitors. You should be proud of them.”
She raised her eyes to his face. “You have also suffered a great loss,” she said with a mock concern. “Your mistress is dead.”
He had thought she would express some formal condolences for his father’s death and, briefly, did not understand what he heard. Then he realized the depths of her hatred for him, the intensity of her desire to hurt him.
“Akane,” she went on. “The courtesan. She killed an old man and then killed herself. Apparently, so the gossip goes, Masahiro visited her with the news of your death: it must have driven her out of her mind.”
She continued to stare at him, almost triumphantly. “Of course, Masahiro had been in contact with her all winter. He must have slept with her often while you were away.”
His rage was so intense he wanted to do nothing but kill her. He fought against the wash of red that set the muscles in his arms and hands afire. He felt his fists clench and his face contort with new intolerable pain. Akane was dead? She had been deceiving him with his own uncle? Both seemed equally unbelievable and unbearable. Then he remembered the stories about her former lover, Hayato-the gossip in the town when the man was killed on Masahiro’s orders, his children condemned and then spared, thanks, everyone said, to Akane’s intercession.