Grass For His Pillow Part 16

The fire was almost out. I could no longer see Makoto's face. Beneath the thin quilt I was shivering. I wondered if I could sleep, would ever sleep again, would ever stop listening for the a.s.sa.s.sin's breath. In a world that seemed almost entirely hostile, Makoto's devotion touched me deeply. I could think of nothing to say. I took his hand and clasped it briefly in thanks.

"Will you keep watch while I sleep for a couple of hours?"

"Of course I will."

"Wake me, and then you can sleep before we go."

He nodded. I wrapped myself in the second quilt and lay down. The faintest glow came from the fire. I could hear its dying susurration. Outside the wind had dropped a little. The eaves dripped; some small creature was rustling in the thatch. An owl hooted and the mouse went still. I drifted into an uneasy sleep and dreamed of children drowning. I plunged again and again into icy icy black water but was unable to save them. black water but was unable to save them.

The cold woke me. Dawn was just beginning to lighten the hut. Makoto sat in the position of meditation. His breathing was so slow, I could hardly hear it; yet, I knew he was completely alert. I watched him for a few moments. When he opened his eyes I looked away.

"You should have woken me."

"I feel rested. I need very little sleep." He said curiously, "Why don't you ever look at me?"

"I might send you to sleep. It's one of the Tribe skills I inherited. I should be able to control it, but I've put people to sleep without meaning to. So I don't look them in the eye."

"You mean there's more than just the hearing? What else?"

"I can make myself invisible-for long enough to confuse an opponent or slip past a guard. And I can seem to remain in a place after I've left it or to be in two places at once. We call it using the second self." I watched him without appearing to as I said this, for I was interested in his reaction.

He could not help recoiling slightly. "Sounds more like a demon than an angel," he muttered. "Can all these people, the Tribe, do this?"

"Different people have different skills. I seem to have inherited many more than my share."

"I knew nothing about the Tribe, did not even know they existed, until our abbot spoke of you and your connection with them, after your visit in the summer."

"Many think the skills are sorcery," I said.

"Are they?"

"I don't know, because I don't know how I do them. The skills came to me. I did not seek them. But training enhances them."

"I suppose like any skills they can be used for good or evil," he said quietly.

"Well, the Tribe want only to use them for their own purposes," I said. "Which is why they will not let me live. If you come with me, you will be in the same danger. Are you prepared for that?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm prepared. Doesn't it alarm you, though? It would make most men weak with fear."

I did not know how to answer. I have often been described as fearless, but that seems too fine a word for a state that is more like invisibility, a gift I was born with. And fearlessness only comes on me from time to time, and then takes energy to maintain. I know fear as well as any man. I didn't want to think about it then. I stood and took up my clothes. They were not really dry, and they felt clammy against op my skm as I put them on. I went outside to p.i.s.s. The air was raw and damp, but the snow had stopped, and what lay on the ground was slushy. There were no footprints around the hut and shrine save my own, already half-covered. The track disappeared downhill. It was pa.s.sable. The mountain and the forest were silent, apart from the wind. Far in the distance I could hear crows, and a little closer some smaller bird piped in a mournful way. I could hear no sound of human existence, no ax on trunk, no temple bell, no village dog. The shrine spring made a low, welling sound. I washed my face and hands in the icy black water and drank deeply.

That was all the breakfast we had. Makoto packed his few possessions, tucked the flutes into his belt, and picked up the fighting pole. It was his only weapon. I gave him the short sword I'd taken from my a.s.sailant the day before, and he placed it next to the flutes in his belt.

As we set out, a few flakes of snow were drifting down, and they continued to fall all morning. The path, however, was not too thickly covered, and Makoto of course knew the way well. Every now and then I slipped on an icy patch or stepped in a hole up to my knees. Soon my clothes were as wet as they'd been the night before. The path was narrow; we went in single file at a fair pace, hardly speaking. Makoto seemed to have no words left, and I was too busy listening- for the breath, the broken stick, the thrum of bowstring, the whistle of throwing knife. I felt like a wild animal, always in danger, always hunted.

The light paled to pearl gray, stayed like that for three hours or so, then began to darken. The flakes fell more heavily, beginning to swirl and settle. Around noon we stopped to drink from a small stream, but as soon as we stopped walking the cold attacked us, so we did not linger.

"This is the North River, which flows past the temple," Makoto said. "We follow its course all the way. It's less than two hours now."

It seemed so much easier than my journey since I'd left Hagi. I almost began to relax. Terayama was only two hours away. I had a companion. We were going to get to the temple, and I would be safe for the winter. But the babbling of the river drowned out all other sound, and so I had no warning of the men who were waiting for us.

There were two of them, and they came at us out of the forest like wolves. But they were antic.i.p.ating one man-me-and Makoto's presence surprised them. They saw what they thought was a harmless monk and went for him first, expecting him to run away. He dropped the first man with a blow to the head that must have cracked the skull. The second man had a long sword, which surprised me, as the Tribe do not usually carry them. I went invisible as he swung at me, came up under his reach, and slashed at his sword hand, trying to disable him. The knife glanced off his glove. I stabbed again and let my image appear at his feet. The second stab went home, and blood began to drip from his right wrist as he swung again. My second self faded and I, still invisible, leaped on him, trying to slash him in the throat, wishing I had Jato and could fight him properly. He could not see me, but he grabbed at my arms and cried out in horror. I felt myself becoming visible, and he realized it at the same time. He stared into my face as if he saw a ghost, his eyes widening in terror and then beginning to waver, as Makoto struck him from behind, cracking the pole against his neck. He went down like an ox, taking me down with him.

I scrambled out from beneath him and pulled Makoto into the shelter of the rocks, in case there were more of them on the hillside. What I feared most were bowmen who could pick us off from afar. But the forest grew too thickly here to be able to use a bow from any distance. There was no sign of anyone else.

Makoto was breathing hard, his eyes bright. "I realize now what you meant about your skills."

"You're pretty skillful yourself! Thanks."

"Who are they?"

I went to the two bodies. The first man was Kikuta-I could tell from his hands-but the second wore the Otori crest under his armor.

"This one is a warrior," I said, gazing gazing at the heron. "That explains the sword. The other is from the Tribe-Kikuta." at the heron. "That explains the sword. The other is from the Tribe-Kikuta."

I did not know the man, but we had to be relatives, linked by the lines on our palms.

The Otori warrior made me nervous. Had he come from Hagi? What was he doing with one of the Tribe's a.s.sa.s.sins? It seemed to be common knowledge that I was heading for Terayama. My thoughts flew to Ichiro. I prayed they had not extracted the information from him. Or was it Jo-An or one of the impoverished men I'd feared would betray me? Maybe these men had already been to the temple and there would be more of them waiting for us there.

"You completely disappeared," Makoto said. "I could only see your prints in the snow. It's extraordinary." He grinned at me, his face transformed. It was hard to believe he was the same person as the despairing flute player of the previous night. "It's been a while since I've had a decent fight. It's amazing how a brush with death makes life so beautiful."

The snow seemed whiter and the cold more piercing. I was terribly hungry, yearning for the comforts of the senses, a scalding bath, food, wine, a lover's body naked against mine.

We went on with renewed energy. We needed it; in the last hour or so the wind increased and the snow began to fall heavily again. I had reason to become even more grateful to Makoto, for by the end we were walking blind; yet he knew the path and never faltered. Since I had last been to the temple, a wooden wall had been erected around the main buildings, and at the gate guards challenged us. Makoto replied and they welcomed him excitedly. They had been anxious for him and were relieved that he had decided to return.

After they had barred the gate again and we were inside the guardroom, they looked searchingly at me, not sure if they knew me or not. Makoto said, "Lord OtoriTakeo is seeking refuge here for the winter. Will you inform our abbot that he is here?"

One of them hurried away across the courtyard, his figure, bowed against the wind, turning white before he reached the cloister. The great roofs of the main halls were already capped with snow, the bare branches of cherry and plum trees heavy with the blossom of winter.

The guards beckoned us to sit by the fire. Like Makoto, they were young monks, their weapons bows, spears, and poles. They poured us tea. Nothing had ever tasted quite as good to me. The tea and our clothes steamed together, creating a comforting warmth. I tried to fight it; I did not want to relax yet.

"Has anyone come here looking for me?"

"Strangers were noticed on the mountain early this morning. They skirted the temple and went on up into the forest. We had no idea they were looking for you. We were a little concerned for Makoto- we thought they might be bandits-but the weather was too bad to send anyone out. Lord Otori has arrived at a good time. The way you came down is already impa.s.sable. The temple will be closed now till spring."

"It is an honor for us that you have returned," one of them said shyly, and the glances they exchanged told me they had a fair idea of the significance of my appearance.

After ten minutes or so the monk came hurrying back. "Our abbot welcomes Lord Otori," he said, "and asks that you will bathe and eat. He would like to speak with you when the evening prayers are finished."

Makoto finished his tea, bowed formally to me, and said he must get ready for evening prayers, as though he had spent the whole day in the temple with the other monks, not slogging through a blizzard and killing two men. His manner was cool and formal. I knew beneath it lay the heart of a true friend, but here he was one of the monks, while I had to relearn how to be a lord. The wind howled around the gables; the snow drifted relentlessly down. I had come in safety to Terayama. The winter was mine to reshape my life.

I was taken to one of the temple guest rooms by the young man who'd brought the abbot's message. In spring and summer these rooms would have been full of visitors and pilgrims, but now they were deserted. Even though the outer shutters were closed against the storm, it was bitterly cold. The wind moaned through the c.h.i.n.ks in the wall, and through some of the larger ones snow drifted. The same monk showed me the way to the small bathhouse built above a hot spring. I took off my wet, filthy clothes and scrubbed myself all over. Then I eased my body into the hot water. It was even better than I'd imagined it would be. I thought of the men who had tried to kill me in the last two days and was fiercely glad I was alive. The water steamed and bubbled around me. I felt a rush of grat.i.tude for it, that it should well up out of the mountain, bathe my aching body, and un-thaw my frozen limbs. I thought about mountains, which were just as likely to spit out ash and fire or shake their sides and throw buildings around like kindling, and make men feel as helpless as the insects that crawl from burning logs. This mountain could have gripped me and frozen me to death, but instead it had given me this scalding water.

My arms were bruised from the warrior's grip, and there was a long, shallow cut on my neck where his sword must have grazed me. My right wrist, which had bothered me on and off ever since Akio had bent it backward, in Inuyama, tearing the tendons, now felt stronger. My body seemed more spare than ever, but otherwise I was in good shape after the journey. And now I was clean too.

I heard footsteps in the room beyond, and the monk called out that he had brought dry clothes and some food. I emerged from the water, my skin bright red from the heat, rubbed myself dry on the rags left there for that purpose, and ran back along the boardwalk through the snow to the room.

It was empty. The clothes lay on the floor: clean loincloth, quilted undergarments, silken outer robe, also quilted, and sash. The robe was a dark plum color woven with a deeper pattern of purple, the Otori crest in silver on the back. I put it on slowly, relishing the touch of the silk. It had been a long time since I had worn anything of this quality. I wondered why it was at the temple and who had left it here. Had it been Shigeru's? I felt his presence envelop me. The first thing I would do in the morning would be to visit his grave. He would tell me how to achieve revenge.

The smell of the food made me realize how famished I was. The meal was more substantial than anything I'd had for days, and it took me just two minutes to devour it. Then, not wanting to lose the heat from the bath or to fall asleep, I went through some exercises, ending with meditation.

Beyond the wind and the snow I could hear the monks chanting from the main hall of the temple. The snowy night, the deserted room with its memories and ghosts, the serene words of the ancient sutras, all combined to produce an exquisite bittersweet sensation. My spine chilled. I wished I could express it, wished I had paid more attention when Ichiro had tried to teach me poetry. I longed to hold the brush in my hand: If I could not express my feelings in words, perhaps I could paint them.

"Come back to us," the old priest had said, "When all this is over..." Part of me wished I could do that and spend the rest of my days in this tranquil place. But I remembered how even here I had overheard plans of war; the monks were armed and the temple fortified now. It was far from over; indeed it was only just begun.

The chanting came to an end and I heard the soft pad of feet as the monks filed away to eat, then sleep for a few hours until the bell roused them at midnight. Footsteps approached the room from the cloister, and the same monk came to the door and slid it open. He bowed to me and said, "Lord Otori, our abbot wishes to see you now."

I stood and followed him along the cloister. "What's your name?"

"Norio, sir," he replied, and added in a whisper, "I was born in Hagi."

He did not say more, the rule of the temple being that no one spoke unnecessarily. We walked around the central courtyard, already filled with snow, past the eating hall where the monks knelt in silent rows, each with a bowl of food in front of him, past the main hall, which smelled of incense and candle wax and where the golden figure sat gleaming in the dimness, to the third side of the square. Here lay a series of small rooms used as offices and studies. From the farthest I could hear the click of prayer beads, the whisper of a sutra. We stopped outside the first room and Norio called in a low voice, "Lord Abbot, your visitor is here."

I was ashamed when I saw him, for it was the old priest himself, in the same old clothes I had seen him in when I had last been at Terayama. I had thought him one of the old men of the temple, not its head. I had been so wrapped up in my own concerns, I had not even known who he was. I dropped to my knees and touched my forehead to the matting. As informal as ever, he came toward me, told me to sit up, and embraced me. Then he sat back and studied me, his face illuminated by his smile. I smiled back, sensing his genuine pleasure and responding to it.

"Lord Otori," he said, "I am very glad you have returned to us safely.

You have been much on my mind. You have been through dark times."

"They are not over. But I seek your hospitality for the winter. I seem to be hunted by everyone, and I need a place of safety while I prepare myself."

"Makoto has told me a little of your situation. You are always welcome here."

"I must tell you my purpose right away. I mean to claim my inheritance from the Otori and punish those responsible for Lord Shigeru's death. It may place the temple in some danger."

"We are prepared for that," he replied serenely. "You are doing me a great kindness that I don't deserve."

"I think you will find that those of us who have long-standing connections with the Otori consider ourselves in your debt," he replied. "And of course we have faith in your future."

More than I have, I thought silently. I felt the color come to my face. It was unthinkable that he should praise me, after all the mistakes I had made. I felt like an impostor, dressed in the Otori robe, with my hair cropped, no money, no possessions, no men, no sword. I thought silently. I felt the color come to my face. It was unthinkable that he should praise me, after all the mistakes I had made. I felt like an impostor, dressed in the Otori robe, with my hair cropped, no money, no possessions, no men, no sword.

"All endeavors start with a single action," he said, as though he could read my mind. "Your first action was to come here."

"My teacher, Ichiro, sent me. He will meet me here in the spring. He advised me to seek Lord Arai's protection. I should have done that from the start."

The abbot's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "No, the Tribe would not have let you live. You were far more vulnerable then. You did not know your enemy. Now you have some inkling of their power."

"How much do you know about them?"

"Shigeru confided in me and sought my advice often. On his last visit we spoke at length about you."

"I didn't hear that."

"No, he was careful to speak by the waterfall so you would not hear. Later we moved into this room."

"Where you spoke of war."

"He needed my a.s.surance that the temple and the town would rise once Iida was dead. He was still of two minds about the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt, fearing he would simply be sending you to certain death. As it turned out, it was his own death that sparked the uprising, and we could not have prevented it even if we had wanted to. However, Arai was in alliance with Shigeru, not with the Otori clan. If he can take this territory for himself, he will. They will be at war by the summer."

He was silent for a moment, then went on, "The Otori intend to claim Shigeru's land and declare your adoption illegal. Not content with conspiring in his death, they insult his memory. That's why I'm glad you intend to take up your inheritance."

"Will the Otori ever accept me, though?" I held out my hands, palms upward. "I am marked as Kikuta."

"We'll talk about that later. You'll be surprised how many are awaiting your return. You'll see in the spring. Your men will find you."

"An Otori warrior already tried to kill me," I said, unconvinced.

"Makoto told me. The clan will be split, but Shigeru knew this and accepted it. The rift was not of his making: The seeds were sown when he was usurped after his father's death."

"I hold Shigeru's uncles responsible for his death," I said. "But the more I learn, the more it surprises me that they let him live so long."

"Fate decrees the lengths of all our lives," he replied. "The Otori lords fear their own people. Their farmers are volatile by nature and tradition. They have never been completely cowed, like the peasants under the Tohan. Shigeru knew them and respected them and in turn won their respect and affection. That protected him against his uncles. Their loyalty will be transferred to you."

"Maybe," I said, "but there is a more serious problem. I am now sentenced to death by the Tribe."

His face was calm, ivory-colored in the lamplight. "Which I imagine is another reason you are here."

I thought he would go on, but he fell silent. He was watching me with an expectant look on his face.

"Lord Shigeru kept records," I said, speaking carefully into the hushed room. "Records of the Tribe and their activities. I am hoping you will make them available to me."

"They have been kept here for you," he replied. "I will send for them now. And of course there is something else I have been keeping for you."

"Jato," I said.

He nodded. "You are going to need it."

He called to Norio and asked him to go to the storehouse and fetch the chest and the sword.

"Shigeru did not want to influence any decision you might make," he said as I listened to Norio's footsteps echoing away around the cloister. "He was aware that your inheritance would cause divisions in your loyalty. He was quite prepared for you to choose your Kikuta side. In that case no one would ever have access to the records except myself. But since you have chosen your Otori side, the records are yours."

"I have bought myself a few months of life," I said with a trace of self-contempt. "There's no n.o.bility in my choice unless it is that I am finally doing what Lord Shigeru wanted. It's hardly even a choice, since my life with the Tribe was approaching an end. As for my Otori side, it is only by adoption and will be questioned by everyone."

Again the smile lit his face, his eyes bright with understanding and wisdom. "Shigeru's will is as good a reason as any."

I felt he had some other knowledge that he would share with me later, but even as that thought came I heard footsteps returning. I could not help tensing before I recognized them as Norio's, slightly heavier this time: He was carrying the chest and the sword. He slid open the door and stepped inside, dropping to his knees. He placed the chest and the sword on the matting. I did not turn my head, but I heard the soft sound they made. My pulse quickened, with a mixture of joy and fear, at the prospect of holding Jato again.

Norio closed the door behind him and, kneeling again, placed the precious objects in front of the abbot where I, too, could see them. They were both wrapped in pieces of old cloth, their power disguised. The abbot took Jato from its covering and held it out toward me in both hands. I took it in the same fashion, raised it above my head, and bowed to him, feeling the cool familiar weight of the scabbard. I longed to draw the sword and wake its steel song, but I would not do so in the presence of the abbot. I placed it reverently on the floor next to me while he unwrapped the chest.

A smell of rue rose from it. I recognized it at once. It was indeed the one I had carried under Kenji's eyes up the mountain path, thinking it some gift for the temple. Had Kenji no idea then of what it contained?

The old man opened the lid-it was not locked-and the smell of rue intensified. He lifted one of the scrolls and held it out to me.

"You were to read this one first. That was Shigeru's instruction to me." As I took it he said with sudden profound emotion, "I did not think this moment would come."

I looked into his eyes. Deep-set in his old face, they were as bright and as lively as a twenty-year-old's. He held my gaze, and I knew he would never succ.u.mb to the Kikuta sleep. In the distance one of the smaller bells rang three times. In my mind's eye I could see the monks at prayer, in meditation. I felt the spiritual power of this holy place, concentrated and reflected in the person of the old man before me now. Again I felt a rush of grat.i.tude-to him, to the belief that sustained him, to heaven, and to the different G.o.ds who, despite my own disbelief, seemed to have taken my life into their charge and care.

"Read it," he prompted me. "The rest you can study later, but read this one now."