Текст книги "The Old Men of Omi"

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Chapter Eleven

The Shrine Fair

Akitada was unhappy and worried about Tora’s tale. The incident had been shocking, especially when carried out by sohei, and those members of the Enryaku-ji monastery. He considered the custom of great temples to train some of their younger monks to defend their community against marauding robbers deplorable. Yet while he disliked it intensely, he could understand such a move when the government was apparently unable to control criminal gangs.

What was unforgiveable, however, was the use of soldier monks against another temple. It was this sort of warfare which had led Enryaku-ji and Onjo-ji to strengthen their forces by hiring mercenaries, declaring them lay monks, and providing shelter, food, and pay for them. Both local temples had standing armies of sohei, and clearly their mercenaries were criminals who had begun to prey on the local population.

In fact, his own assignment was intended to settle a dangerous disagreement between the two temples in order to avoid another war and bloodshed. Yet his knowledge of the hostilities between presumably peaceful disciples of the Buddha made him increasingly afraid that a mere legal judgment would not prevent such a disaster.

He had been short with Tora, but the situation was too delicate to cloud the issues with charges against the four sohei. No doubt these would be rejected anyway, the rapes denied, and the kidnapping explained as the legitimate capture of a run-away peasant.

But even more upsetting had been Tora’s manner. Akitada feared that Tora was thinking of doing something foolish.

He pondered the situation most of that night and rose the next morning without having found a solution. For the time being, Tora was safely at home in the arms of his wife. It might remind him that he had responsibilities these days. At least he hoped so. The four sohei were another matter. The incident troubled him enough that he sought out the peace of Kosehira’s garden in an attempt to settle his mind.

His feet carried him to the koi pond, and there he came across Lady Yukiko again. Like last time she was kneeling on the mossy ground, feeding grains of rice to the fish. She wore pale green silk, like the earliest leaves of spring, and the sheen of her long hair made him want to touch it. He stopped and turned to leave, but she had already heard him and was rising to her feet.

Embarrassment caused her to flush. She said softly, “Oh! It’s you.”

And he said, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

For a long moment they just looked at each other. Akitada was aware of a powerful desire to capture her image as she stood there, sun-dappled in the morning light, a perfect image of the world’s beauty in spring.

He caught himself eventually, feeling strangely sad that this beauty was no part of him. Not for him such freshness or a new beginning. He was middle-aged, her father’s age to be precise, and a father himself. He controlled his heart and said, “And how are Black Dragon and Setting Sun today?”

She smiled and set his heart racing again. “Very well. Come and see, my lord.”

The formality of “my lord” put him in his place. He wished she had used his name and yet was glad she did not. He came closer and inspected the koi. “I’m afraid I said something to offend you last time,” he said. “Will you please forgive me?” He dared a sideways glance and saw the delicious color on her cheeks again.

“It wasn’t you. It was my forwardness. I had no right to pry into your life. I’m ashamed.”

That moved him, and he reached out a hand. “Never be ashamed of a kindness,” he said. “I was flattered. You see, I’m not much used to admiration and it took my words away.”

She put her hand in his. The smile returned. “You needn’t tell me. It’s enough to have met you in person.”

Her hand was small and warm. Holding it reminded him of cradling a young bird. He felt a great affection for her, a protective, fatherly affection. “We’ve met before, you know. You were about six or seven, I think.”

She took her hand from his and turned away. “Oh. Did we? I don’t recall. I was a mere child then.”

The loss of that hand was strangely painful and that realization made him push both of his hands deep into his sleeves. “You were a charming child even then,” he said lightly. And then added, “All of you children impressed me as delightful.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, kneeling again to look at the fish. “My brothers and sisters strike me as pretty wild. My whole family is rather odd, you see. I have wondered why this should be. The best explanation I can come up with is that our parents are happy because my father is happy. We laugh a lot. I’m old enough to have learned that this is a very rare and perhaps improper thing in families.”

Here it was again, this wonderful capacity to see past the obvious to gain a deeper understanding. He said, “It is a rare and wonderful thing and one that I envy. But how can someone as young as you know such things?”

She looked up at him. “Do you think me a child? Or is it that I am a woman and therefore should not have much understanding?”

Taken aback, he said, “No, of course not.”

She got to her feet to study his face. “I wish …” she said in a rush. “I wish you would trust me. I wish you would feel that you could talk to me without thinking me too young or too much a woman.”

This made him smile. “My dear Yukiko,” he said, “You do have a mirror, don’t you? It is impossible to look at you without thinking those things.”

She blushed again, and he enjoyed the play of rosy color on that smooth skin. “I do trust you,” he said, becoming serious. “Or at least, it’s not a matter of trust. You should not worry your pretty head about tales of past adventures by someone my age. And in any case, it wasn’t a matter of courage or heroism, as you and perhaps your father think. I had no choice. I was horribly afraid. And if I escaped in the end, it was by luck rather than ingenuity.”

She cocked her head. “You might leave it to me to decide.”

He gave a snort. “My dear young lady, the truth is these tales would shock and upset you. They are full of blood and death and suffering, so let it be.”

“Now you’re angry again. I should be angry that you have such a low opinion of me, but I shall wait. Some day you’ll tell me your past. I have great patience. Perhaps you’ll make me wait until I’m old, so old that you no longer think of me as a woman.”

He knew that would never happen. For a moment longer he let himself look at her for the sheer joy of it. Then he said, “I must speak to your father.”

She gasped.

“Tora reported an incident at the harbor. It troubles me and I’d like to get your father’s view of it.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “He’s in his room, I think. Will you come back tomorrow?”

“You mean here?” She nodded. He said rather stiffly, “I don’t know. We are getting rather busy. But I thank you for a charming conversation.”

∞

It was almost as bad as their last parting. He saw the hurt in her eyes and wanted to tell her how very much he had enjoyed her company. But he bit his lip, and she inclined her head and walked away. At least she did not run like before.

Akitada was cast into confusion. What was the matter with him? Was he so starved for female companionship that he was attracted to a mere child? A part of him corrected the “child” immediately. Yukiko had a woman’s body under the layers of pretty silks she wore. He had watched her movements, seen the swell of her breasts, the soft curve from hip to slender waist, the slim, tapering thighs and had felt uncomfortably hot under the collar. Even now …

He turned abruptly and headed back to his room. A pity Tora was not here. A spirited bout of swords or bo would get rid of the irrational and shameful desires he felt for his best friend’s daughter. Meanwhile, he had best avoid being alone with her.

This plan did not work out too well after all. Akitada accompanied Kosehira to Otsu headquarters as usual. And as usual, he spent the morning hours working on temple documents. The problem was that Kosehira begged him to accompany his children to a small shrine fair in the city during the afternoon.

The outing had been discussed for a few days and Kosehira himself had planned to look after his brood, but more pressing business had cropped up. The children would arrive by carriage, accompanied by a maid. Both of his older sons had gone off hunting, and so Yukiko was in charge, but Kosehira approached Akitada, saying he would feel better if a man was with the group. All sorts of riffraff frequented fairs.

Of course Akitada agreed. It was little enough, and he enjoyed a fair. Memories intruded again: The O-bon festival and the lost child who could not speak. That year he had lost his own son to smallpox and had been filled with a deep longing for another child. How very long ago it seemed!

He convinced himself that Yukiko would have her hands full restraining the younger children, and they would have no time for private conversation. In truth, he rather looked forward to seeing the children’s faces and watching their delight at the antics of the acrobats.

The carriage arrived just before the noon rice. When Akitada met it, Yukiko had already herded her charges out. They were waiting on the veranda of the headquarters building, eager to set out for the fair.

They walked the short distance, the boys close to Akitada, while Yukiko followed with the girls. They resembled other groups, small families of father, mother and children, on their way to an afternoon’s entertainment. Akitada had provided himself with several strings of coppers. He intended to enjoy himself and treat the children.

The shrine beckoned with brilliant red torii, entrance arches that marked the threshold between the human world and the realm of the god or gods residing there. Akitada was not familiar with this particular divinity but suggested that they pay their respects before plunging into the festivities. And so they filed in under the torii, paused to rinse their mouths at a water basin, and then approached the sanctuary, decorated with the customary ropes of rice straw and chains of folded paper. Akitada bowed and clapped his hands to greet the god, and beside him, the boys did the same. A short prayer later, they made room for the girls.

Akitada watched Yukiko’s graceful figure. She wore a pale rose-colored gown with an embroidered Chinese jacket over it because the days were still cool. The smaller girls were also in white, rose, and pale green spring colors. They reminded him of the cherry blossoms that were just coming into bloom—perhaps the reason for the traditional colors of spring clothing.

Akitada caught a glimpse of happiness. It was spring again, and beauty and joy were still in his world and in his heart.

The children were not interested in immaterial things. Their joys were firmly vested in food and entertainment. They wished to sample as many treats sold by food vendors as possible. As they joined the crowds passing among the gaily decorated stalls, Akitada began dispensing his coppers. They had not eaten since their morning gruel and fell upon rice buns, grilled fish on wooden sticks, pancakes with octopus centers, fried noodles, roasted chestnuts, and sweet bean pastries with an appetite that was amazing. Akitada laughed, paid, sipped some very good noodle soup himself, then tasted a bite of sticky honey cake offered him by Arimitsu, and peeled some chestnuts for one of the little girls.

In between there were the sights and games. Colorful paper lanterns swayed from the corners of stands, vendors sold kites decorated with fierce dragons and tigers (here Akitada indulged both of Kosehira’s sons), amulets, bead necklaces (the little girls took great delight in selecting theirs), carved bears and birds and (interestingly) a large number of Jizo carvings just like the one he had found on Judge Nakano’s desk.

All of the youngsters competed in a game that required them to catch small koi in a large wooden tub by using a scoop made from paper. The trick was to be quick because the spoon soon became sodden and drooped. Arimitsu proved to be the only one who succeeded. Generously, he returned the little fish he won to the water.

Now and then costumed dancers passed through the crowd, pausing to put on a show and gathering coppers from the onlookers. A group of young men dressed like the magical tengu birds appeared suddenly, darting at children with shrill cries and fleeing only if bombarded with dried beans. And everywhere there was music. Musicians played flutes, zithers, and lutes, as women sang and men recited heroic tales.

It was all wonderful, and Akitada forgot about his troubles when he saw the delight of Kosehira’s children. He thought of his own, feeling guilty that they weren’t with him, but they would soon see their own fair, and one that was much bigger than this one. At any rate, the outing was a complete success until Akitada missed the youngest boy. Arimitsu seemed to have disappeared into the crowds during the tengu performance. Both Akitada and his brother had seen him when the bird men first appeared. In fact, Akitada had bought both boys small bags of beans to throw at them.

A frantic search ensued. The events of the Masuda affair surfaced again in Akitada’s memory. He had visions of the governor’s son being kidnapped. There were always evil and greedy people about who thought they could enrich themselves by taking the children of the wealthy. How would he explain to Kosehira that he had failed him in the worst way?

It was Yukiko who kept her head. She said, “The little rascal got interested in something and forgot his promise.” They had all promised solemnly to stay close to Akitada and Yukiko or their visit would be cut short and they would be sent home in disgrace.

Akitada was not reassured. “He was just here,” he said. “What if someone snatched him?”

“He would have screamed and kicked. Why don’t I stay here with the children while you take a look around?”

Sensible Yukiko!

He found Arimitsu quickly. The boy had joined a small crowd of children and adults watching the performance of a puppeteer. In his relief, Akitada gave silent thanks to the gods of the shrine, whoever they were. He was about to seize the child and lecture him about keeping promises, when the puppeteer caught his attention. He was one of those men who walk about with a large box slung around their necks. Inside the box were puppets, and the top of the box was the stage where the puppets performed. This man was good at his craft, and the story the puppets enacted was an exciting tale of betrayal and revenge. The man had reached the point where the hero confronts the villain and they battle it out with their swords.

Arimitsu was spellbound and had not noticed Akitada slipping through the crowd to stand beside him. The tale ended with the death of the villain, speared through the chest by the hero’s sword, and the puppeteer put away the dolls and instead brought out a wooden bowl he passed around for donations.

Akitada added a few coppers and said to Arimitsu, “It was a fine performance, but should you not have told us where you were going?”

The boy was startled. “Oh. I thought you knew? I thought you were looking my way when I came here. Wasn’t it grand? Wasn’t it the best thing you ever saw? And that sword fight was almost as good as watching you and Tora the other morning.”

“You were watching?” Akitada was surprised. “We didn’t see you.”

“Oh, we were peering through the fence.”

An awful thought struck Akitada. “Who is we?”

“Arihira and me.”

Akitada breathed a little easier.

“And Yukiko came and looked also.”

So much for that young woman’s manners. Akitada was embarrassed and angry. How dare she spy on him? What next? Would she pop in when he was taking his bath?

The day was spoiled for him. He returned Arimitsu to his siblings and ended the excursion in a bad mood. The children, aware of his irritation, were subdued, and Yukiko shot questioning glances his way that he ignored. When they climbed back into their carriage for the trip home, she confronted him.

“It was very good of you to come with us,” she said. “I’m sorry that Arimitsu was disobedient.”

He looked at her coldly. “It doesn’t matter. He’s only a child.”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes,” and got in the carriage.

Chapter Twelve

Enryaku-ji

The arrival of Saburo’s formidable mother had caused considerable trouble. Cook had packed her things and planned to leave the next day. She was outraged at the newcomer’s interference in the kitchen and her criticism of her meals. The maid had similar complaints concerning housekeeping chores and objected to Mrs. Kuruda’s meddling in Lady Yasuko’s attire. The children objected to being told they could not play any noisy games. This extended with special prohibitions to Yasuko, whose participation in the boys’ activities had shocked Mrs. Kuruda. Hanae and Ohiro said little, not wanting to offend Saburo, but it was clear that they tried to stay out of his mother’s way as much as possible.

The whole household had to be pacified. Tora managed to get cook to postpone her departure until after Akitada’s return. The rest of the family promised to be patient. He urged this by suggesting that Mrs.Kuruda would eventually return to her daughter’s house. Privately he had no such convictions. Saburo’s mother had declared firmly that her daughter and that good-for-nothing animal she had married no longer existed for her. She intended to devote her remaining years to her son. It was clear that she planned to assume control of the wifeless Sugawara household. She claimed her heart went out to Lord Sugawara, left without the support of a loyal spouse, and to those darling children who would need motherly supervision.

When Tora mentioned this to Saburo, he listened with horror and told Tora that he was almost afraid that his mother intended to marry his lordship herself.

This made Tora laugh heartily. But he was preoccupied with his own dilemma. On impulse, he said, “Saburo, I may need your help.”

“Of course, Tora. What can I do?”

Tora told him about the sohei. He described the scene at Otsu harbor. After an initial spark of interest when Tora described the warrior monks, Saburo’s face lengthened. When Tora finished with the abduction of Kinzaburo and the rape of his wife, he said nothing.

Tora was surprised by this. He asked, “Well? You’re the expert in all things involving warrior monks and monasteries. We’ve got to do something.”

With a sigh, Saburo said, “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m going to Enryaku-ji to find Kinzaburo. It would help to know something about the place.”

“You’ve never been to Enryaku-ji?”

“No.” Tora was beginning to find Saburo’s lack of enthusiastic support puzzling. “Come on! Give! I need to know how to get him out.”

“If there were a war, would you consider creeping into an enemy camp to abduct their general?”

“You think it’s impossible? Pah. I’ve done harder things.”

Saburo looked at him for a long moment. “So have I. That’s how I got this.” He gestured at his mutilated face.

Tora gaped. “Monks did that to you?”

“Sohei. It’s not quite the same thing.”

Tora did not know what to say. Suddenly his endeavor looked not only difficult but foolhardy. To rescue Kinzaburo, he would have to get into Enryaku-ji. This was simple enough as many pilgrims came and went in the temple grounds daily. The problem was that Kinzaburo most likely would be kept by the sohei in an area that was not accessible to ordinary worshippers. Originally he had hoped to bluff his way in somehow, verify where Kinzaburo was kept, and then free him in the dark of the night. But if those cursed monks treated a fellow monk the way they had Saburo, he doubted he would be allowed to live if they caught him. The risk was too great for a family man.

And there was another matter. He was getting too old for this business. Lately he had been plagued by headaches, and his encounter with the sohei seemed to have aggravated them. He felt discouraged. Putting his head into his hands, he muttered, “What can I do?”

“If it weren’t for my mother, I could come with you. I know the place better than you. We might not be successful, but it would be worth a try.”

Tora looked up. “Would you do that? After what they did to you?”

Saburo gave him his crooked smile. “I remember some faces. They come to me at night. I’ll never forget.”

“Oh. You mean you’d look for those who did this?”

“Of course. That’s what I dream about when I’m awake.”

“But why can’t you leave your mother? She’s safe here.”

Saburo shook his head. “You don’t know her. I dare not do this to my new family.”

Tora laughed. “Come on. She’s a busybody, but at heart she’s kind and she tries to be helpful. What could she possibly do?”

Saburo said darkly, “She’s the one who sent me among the sohei, and you ask ‘what can she do?’”

“Then send her back to your sister.”

Saburo turned away. “I can’t,” he said dully. “They won’t have her. They know her too well. Besides, she’s my responsibility. It will be best if I leave. She can keep house for me, and I’ll find some work to feed us both.”

“No. You belong here.” Tora paused. “Well, there’s nothing to be done then. I’ll tell the master. When he hears she’s your mother, I’m sure he’ll make her welcome.”

Saburo’s head sank lower. “Yes. But it isn’t right.”

“You’ll stay?”

Saburo nodded. “For a while. But what will you do?”

“I’m having a look at Enryaku-ji. See if I get any ideas. How about some directions?”

Saburo looked at him anxiously. “What do you plan to do?”

“I’d just like to get an idea of the place.”

“You’ll go back to Otsu first?”

Tora nodded.

“There’s a road up the mountain. All roads to Enryaku-ji are good. The main temple is actually surrounded by smaller, outlying temples. But you want to know about the sohei. They have their own place in one of the smaller temples. Few visitors ever go there, but it has its own main hall, lecture hall, and several training halls. They call them training halls, but they are really dojos. They teach fighting skills there. The place is tucked away on a steep mountain ridge. You can get to it from the main road. There’s a path that climbs the side of the mountain before you reach Enryaku-ji’s main gate. The sohei are separate from the other monks and come and go this way when they need to visit Otsu. The path leads to a gate, but the gatekeepers there won’t admit you. The whole complex is walled and surrounded by watch towers.”

“I was afraid of that. Any other way in?”

“Yes. You can get there from the Enryaku-ji grounds. That path is behind the Kaidan-in, the ordination hall. It’s well hidden and is for the monks only, and the sohei if they’re summoned by the abbot or participate in any of the temple observances. If you encounter anyone there, you’ll be stopped. And if you’re not, you still won’t get into their compound.”

Tora grinned. “I’ll be very careful.”

Saburo gave him a hard look. “Promise that you’ll come get me before you try anything dangerous.”

“I will. Thanks, brother.”

∞

When Tora returned to Otsu, he found his master was preoccupied with the governor’s family. He was said to be visiting a shrine fair and had left no instructions for Tora. As it was not yet midday, Tora decided he had plenty of time for a visit to the temple.

So he got back on his horse and took the wide road that led from Otsu up the side of Mount Hiei to the huge temple complex that was Enryaku-ji. This time of year and in this weather the road was busy. Most of the pilgrims in their rough white cotton robes and wide straw hats, walked leaning on staffs, their provisions slung in bags over their shoulders. Some of the upper class faithful traveled by horse or in litters. All in all, there was a steady stream going up the mountain and coming back down.

Their spirits were high. For many of them, this was a welcome release from their usual labors and the long winter months inside their houses.

It was, of course, also good for their souls.

Above them rose the green mountain to a blue sky dotted with small clouds. The holy mountain, Mount Hiei, guardian of the capital. Tora believed mountains to be inhabited by ancient gods, but it was Enryaku-ji and other mountain temples that claimed to protect the people below.

The road climbed through forest dotted here and there with cherry trees bursting into bloom. Birds darted through the branches, and small wildflowers bloomed in the grass.

Soon Tora could see the tops of pagodas and some roofs of temple halls rising from the forest. There were many of these and they were widely separated. He began to realize the enormous size of the complex and got the first inkling that his plans might be beyond him. For the time being, he persisted. Closer to his destination, he came across the first roadside vendors. They sold all sorts of foods, amulets, straw sandals, straw hats, and straw coats, umbrellas, rosaries, and other items useful to pilgrims.

As it was long was past midday, Tora stopped for a bowl of noodles at one stand. The food was vegetarian, and any hopes he might have had for a cup of wine vanished. There was water, though, at a token price.

Eventually, he reached the entrance to the main temple—there were apparently many of these, scattered over the mountainside and associated with Enryaku-ji. He turned his horse over to a young monk, made a donation, and walked through the large, roofed Monju-ro gate into the temple grounds.

There was little to distinguish this mountain temple complex from many others. True, the halls and other buildings were in excellent condition, the red lacquered columns, railings, and eaves brilliant in the sun, and the gilding even brighter and very rich. But he found the pagoda unsatisfactory because it had only three levels. On the other hand, the sheer number of buildings stunned and bewildered him. How would he ever find his way around this place?

For a while, he just wandered about like the rest of the visitors. He paused before the Amida hall, thinking it rather small and unimportant looking. The Daiko-do, or great lecture hall, was more impressive. Following the general stream of pilgrims, he passed among many other halls, the Kanjo-do, used for initiations, the Yokokawashu-do, another large building, and the Komponchu-do with its colonnaded gallery. Beyond rose mountains, forests, and craggy rocks toward more halls and pagodas.

The monks’ living quarters were tucked away behind the main buildings, and nearby were storage buildings.

Ordinary monks in gray or black or pale robes stood or wandered about, offering to direct visitors and answering their questions, but Tora saw no sohei. He decided not to trouble the helpful monks with his own questions.

The sun was setting and he was getting tired before he gave up on seeing all of the huge temple complex and turned back to the main compound. He located the Kaidan-in, a small ordination hall, and found it awkwardly close to the lecture hall where a great number of monks seemed to be stationed. The path Saburo had mentioned skirted the side of the building. It was unmarked, and a monk stood there to make sure none of the visitors would be tempted to explore it. In fact, the more Tora thought about it, security was very good here. The monks he had seen mingling with visitors and pilgrims, offering to direct them, seemed to have been placed there as guards. It gave him a creepy feeling. No doubt, someone had already noted him as neither a sightseer nor a pilgrim. He paused to scan the area casually and caught several monks looking his way.

He had been careless.

They had something to hide!

Tora quickly mingled with the pilgrims, seeking out the heaviest concentration of people and moving with them, joining new groups, but always staying as close as possible to the Kaidan-in. A short time later, he got his chance. Across the way, in front of the pagoda, an outcry went up. Someone had fallen or fainted. Immediately, people started to drift in that direction, and with them went the watchers.

When Tora saw that the monk next to the secret path had joined them, he slipped past the side of the building and jogged away from the crowds and into the woods. He saw no one. The path turned sharply left and then ascended toward the mountain ridge behind the temple complex. After a while, Tora slowed and steadied his breathing. No sense in alerting any other posted watchers. He proceeded more slowly and cautiously, especially when he neared the summit. But again he was quite safe. And then the path took a final turn, and Tora saw a complex of buildings before him. In contrast to the temple below, these were very plain. The wood was unpainted and had darkened from the weather. The roofs of the halls were covered with bark. Some of the buildings were more than one story tall and had wooden roofs weighted down with rocks like the row houses of the poor and the warehouses of merchants. The whole thing had a utilitarian look about it, but it was walled all around, and the walls rested on rock and had watchtowers, and the gate he saw from where he was looked heavily reinforced.

It was closed.

And it was getting dark and chilly. Soon he would not be able to see much anyway. Regretfully, he turned back. The light faded rapidly, and when the forest closed in on him again, he realized he had been foolish to take this path so late in the day. It was nearly dark under the trees. There were rock outcroppings and loose stones underfoot, and haste was of the essence. Soon he could do little more than descend the steep inclines by slipping, sliding, and catching himself by grasping tree branches. He had given up long since any effort to avoid noise or to listen for it.

That was how it happened.

He was wondering if he was still on the same path or if he had somehow left it to flounder about in the forest on a mountain side that might at any moment propel him into a gorge, when a hand seized his shoulder from behind. Before he could react someone kicked his legs out from under him. He fell heavily, and a large, heavy body fell on top of him.