silk glove that covered the crippled hand and Ishida moved
the lamp closer so he could see. He pressed the scar tissue gently with the
tips of his fingers and flexed the remaining digits. The growth of scar tissue
had clawed the hand slightly.
‘Can you still write
with this hand?’
‘After a fashion. I
support it with the left.’ He showed Ishida. ‘I believe I could still fight
with the sword, but I have not had reason to for many years.’
‘It does seem
inflamed,’ Ishida said finally. ‘I will try the needles tomorrow, to open up
the meridians. In the meantime, this will help you sleep.’
As he prepared the
tea, he said in a low voice, T often did this for your wife. I am afraid to
meet Kono; just the mention of his father’s name, the knowledge that the son
lies somewhere in this mansion, has stirred up many memories. I wonder if he
has grown like his father.’
‘I never laid eyes on
Fujiwara.’
‘You were fortunate.
I did his bidding, obeying him in everything, for most of my life. I knew he
was a cruel man but he always treated me with kindness, encouraged me in my
studies and my travels, allowed me access to his great collections of books and
other treasures. I turned my eyes away from his darker pleasures. I never
believed his cruelty would fall on me.’
He stopped abruptly
and poured the boiling water onto the dried herbs. A faint smell of summer
grass rose from them, fragrant and soothing.
‘My wife has told me
a little of that time,’ Takeo said quietly.
‘Only the earthquake
saved us. I have never experienced such terror in my life, though I have faced
many dangers: storms at sea, shipwreck, pirates and savages. I had already
thrown myself at his feet and begged to be allowed to kill myself: he pretended
to consent, playing with my fears. Sometimes I dream about it; it is something
I will never recover from: absolute evil in the person of a man.’
He paused, lost in
memories. ‘My dog was howling,’ he said very quietly. ‘I could hear my dog
howling. He always warned me of earthquakes like that. I found myself wondering
if anyone would look after him.’
Ishida took up the
bowl and handed it to Takeo. ‘I am profoundly sorry for the part I played in
your wife’s imprisonment.’
‘It is all long past,’
Takeo said, taking the bowl and draining it gratefully.
‘But if the son is
anything like the father, he will only do you ill. Be on your guard.’
‘You are drugging me
and warning me in the same breath,’ Takeo said. ‘Maybe I should put up with the
pain - at least it keeps me awake.’
‘I should stay here
with you . . .’
‘No. The kirin needs
you. My own men are here to guard me. For the time being I am in no danger.’
He walked through the
garden with Ishida as far as the gate, feeling the deep relief as the pain
began to dull. He did not lie awake long - just long enough to tally the
amazing events of the day: Kono, the Emperor’s displeasure, the Dog Catcher,
the kirin. And his sister: what was he going to do about Madaren, a foreigner’s
woman, one of the Hidden, sister to Lord Otori?
8
The sight of her
older brother, whom she had believed dead, was no less of a shock to the woman
who had once been called Madaren, a common name among the Hidden. For many
years after the massacre Madaren had been called by the name given to her by
the woman to whom the Tohan soldier had sold her. He was one of the men who had
taken part in the rape and murder of her mother and sister, but Madaren had no
direct memory of that: she remembered only the summer rain, the smell of the
horse’s sweat when her cheek pressed against its neck, the weight of the man’s
hand holding her still, a hand that seemed larger and heavier than her whole
body. Everything smelled of smoke and mud and she knew she would never be clean
again. At the start of the fire and the horses and the swords she had screamed
out for her father, for Tomasu, as she had called earlier that year when
the lamp closer so he could see. He pressed the scar tissue gently with the
tips of his fingers and flexed the remaining digits. The growth of scar tissue
had clawed the hand slightly.
‘Can you still write
with this hand?’
‘After a fashion. I
support it with the left.’ He showed Ishida. ‘I believe I could still fight
with the sword, but I have not had reason to for many years.’
‘It does seem
inflamed,’ Ishida said finally. ‘I will try the needles tomorrow, to open up
the meridians. In the meantime, this will help you sleep.’
As he prepared the
tea, he said in a low voice, T often did this for your wife. I am afraid to
meet Kono; just the mention of his father’s name, the knowledge that the son
lies somewhere in this mansion, has stirred up many memories. I wonder if he
has grown like his father.’
‘I never laid eyes on
Fujiwara.’
‘You were fortunate.
I did his bidding, obeying him in everything, for most of my life. I knew he
was a cruel man but he always treated me with kindness, encouraged me in my
studies and my travels, allowed me access to his great collections of books and
other treasures. I turned my eyes away from his darker pleasures. I never
believed his cruelty would fall on me.’
He stopped abruptly
and poured the boiling water onto the dried herbs. A faint smell of summer
grass rose from them, fragrant and soothing.
‘My wife has told me
a little of that time,’ Takeo said quietly.
‘Only the earthquake
saved us. I have never experienced such terror in my life, though I have faced
many dangers: storms at sea, shipwreck, pirates and savages. I had already
thrown myself at his feet and begged to be allowed to kill myself: he pretended
to consent, playing with my fears. Sometimes I dream about it; it is something
I will never recover from: absolute evil in the person of a man.’
He paused, lost in
memories. ‘My dog was howling,’ he said very quietly. ‘I could hear my dog
howling. He always warned me of earthquakes like that. I found myself wondering
if anyone would look after him.’
Ishida took up the
bowl and handed it to Takeo. ‘I am profoundly sorry for the part I played in
your wife’s imprisonment.’
‘It is all long past,’
Takeo said, taking the bowl and draining it gratefully.
‘But if the son is
anything like the father, he will only do you ill. Be on your guard.’
‘You are drugging me
and warning me in the same breath,’ Takeo said. ‘Maybe I should put up with the
pain - at least it keeps me awake.’
‘I should stay here
with you . . .’
‘No. The kirin needs
you. My own men are here to guard me. For the time being I am in no danger.’
He walked through the
garden with Ishida as far as the gate, feeling the deep relief as the pain
began to dull. He did not lie awake long - just long enough to tally the
amazing events of the day: Kono, the Emperor’s displeasure, the Dog Catcher,
the kirin. And his sister: what was he going to do about Madaren, a foreigner’s
woman, one of the Hidden, sister to Lord Otori?
8
The sight of her
older brother, whom she had believed dead, was no less of a shock to the woman
who had once been called Madaren, a common name among the Hidden. For many
years after the massacre Madaren had been called by the name given to her by
the woman to whom the Tohan soldier had sold her. He was one of the men who had
taken part in the rape and murder of her mother and sister, but Madaren had no
direct memory of that: she remembered only the summer rain, the smell of the
horse’s sweat when her cheek pressed against its neck, the weight of the man’s
hand holding her still, a hand that seemed larger and heavier than her whole
body. Everything smelled of smoke and mud and she knew she would never be clean
again. At the start of the fire and the horses and the swords she had screamed
out for her father, for Tomasu, as she had called earlier that year when
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