Part 7 (1/2)
From then on, Kaede's father taught her everything that she would have learned already had she been born male. Ayame disapproved strongly-so did most of the household and the men, especially Shoji-but Kaede ignored them. She learned quickly, though much of what she learned filled her with despair.
”All Father tells me is why men rule the world,” she complained to s.h.i.+zuka. ”Every text, every law, explains and justifies their domination.”
”That is the way of the world,” s.h.i.+zuka replied. It was night and they lay side by side, whispering. Ai, Hana, and the other women were asleep in the adjoining room. The night was still, the air cold.
”Not everyone believes that. Maybe there are other countries where they think differently. Even here there are people who dare to think in other ways. Lady Maruyama, for instance...” Kaede's voice went even quieter. ”The Hidden...”
”What do you know about the Hidden?” s.h.i.+zuka said, laughing softly.
”You told me about them, a long time ago, when you first came to me at Noguchi Castle. You said they believed everyone was created equal by their G.o.d. I remember that I thought you, and they, must have been mad. But now when I learn that even the Enlightened One speaks badly of women-or at least his priests and monks do-it makes me question why it should be so.”
”What do you expect?” s.h.i.+zuka said. ”It's men who write histories and sacred texts-even poetry. You can't change the way the world is. You have to learn how to work within it.”
”There are women writers,” Kaede said. ”I remember hearing their tales at Noguchi Castle. But Father says I should not read them, that they will corrupt my mind.”
Sometimes she thought her father selected works for her to read simply because they said such harsh things about women, and then she thought perhaps there were no other works. She particularly disliked K'ung Fu-Tzu, whom her father admired intensely. She was writing the thoughts of the sage to her fathers dictation one afternoon, when a visitor arrived.
The weather had changed in the night. The air was damp with a cold edge to it. Wood smoke and mist hung together in the valleys. In the garden the heavy heads of the last chrysanthemums drooped with moisture. The women had spent the last weeks preparing the winter clothes, and Kaede was grateful for the quilted garments she now wore under her robes. Sitting writing and reading made her hands and feet cold. Soon she would have to arrange for braziers: She feared the onset of winter for which they were still so unprepared.
Ayame came bustling to the door and said in a voice tinged with alarm, ”Lord Fujiwara is here, sir.”
Kaede said, ”I will leave you,” placed the brush down, and stood.
”No, stay. It will amuse him to meet you. No doubt he's come to hear whatever news you may have brought from the East.”
Her father went to the doorway and stepped out to welcome his guest. He turned and beckoned to Kaede and then dropped to his knees.
The courtyard was filled with men on horseback and other attendants. Lord Fujiwara was descending from a palanquin that had been set down beside the huge flat rock that had been transported to the garden expressly for that purpose; Kaede remembered the day from her childhood. She marveled briefly that anyone should so travel by choice, and hoped guiltily that the men had brought their own food with them. Then she dropped to her knees as one of the attendants loosened the n.o.bleman's sandals and he stepped out of them and into the house.
She managed to look at him before she cast her eyes downward. He was tall and slender, his face white and sculpted like a mask, the forehead abnormally high. His clothes were subdued in color, but elegant and made of exquisite fabric. He gave out a seductive fragrance that suggested boldness and originality. He returned her father's bow graciously and responded to his greeting in courteous, flowery language.
Kaede remained motionless as he stepped past her into the room, the scent filling her nostrils.
”My eldest daughter,” her father said casually as he followed his guest inside. ”Otori Kaede.”
”Lady Otori,” she heard him say, and then: ”I would like to look at her.”
”Come in, daughter,” her father said impatiently, and she went in on her knees.
”Lord Fujiwara,” she murmured.
”She is very beautiful,” the n.o.bleman remarked. ”Let me see her face.”
She raised her eyes and met his gaze. ”Exquisite.”
In his narrowed appraising eyes she saw admiration but no desire. It surprised her, and she smiled slightly but unguardedly. He seemed equally surprised, and the sternly held line of his lips softened.
”I am disturbing you,” he apologized, his glance taking in the writing instruments and the scrolls. Curiosity got the better of him. One eyebrow went up. ”A lesson?”
”It's nothing,” her father replied, embarra.s.sed. ”A girl's foolishness. You will think me a very indulgent father.”
”On the contrary, I am fascinated.” He picked up the page she had been writing on. ”May I?”
”Please, please,” her father said.
”Quite a fine hand. One would not believe it to be a girl's.” Kaede felt herself blush. She was reminded again of her boldness in daring to learn men's affairs.
”Do you like K'ung Fu-Tzu?” Lord Fujiwara addressed her directly, confusing her even more.
”I'm afraid my feelings toward him are mixed,” she replied. ”He seems to care so little for me.”
”Daughter,” her father remonstrated, but Fujiwara's lips moved again into something approaching a smile.
”He cannot have antic.i.p.ated such a close acquaintance,” he replied lightly. ”You have arrived lately from Inuyama, I believe. I must confess, my visit is partly to find out what news there is.”
”I came nearly a month ago,” she replied. ”Not directly from Inuyama, but from Terayama, where Lord Otori is buried.”
”Your husband? I had not heard. My condolences.” His glance ran over her form. Nothing escapes him, Nothing escapes him, she thought. she thought. He has eyes like a cormorant. He has eyes like a cormorant.
”Iida brought about his death,” she said quietly, ”and was killed in turn by the Otori.”
Fujiwara went on to express his sympathy further, and she spoke briefly of Arai and the situation at Inuyama, but beneath his formal elegant speech she thought she discerned a hunger to know more. It disturbed her a little, but at the same time she was tempted by it. She felt she could tell him anything and that nothing would shock him, and she was flattered by his obvious interest in her.
”This is the Arai who swore allegiance to the Noguchi,” her father said, returning with anger to his main grudge. ”Because of his treachery I found myself fighting men from the Seishuu clan on my own land-some of them my own relatives. I was betrayed and outnumbered.”
”Father!” Kaede tried to silence him. It was none of Lord Fujiwara's concern, and the less said about the disgrace, the better.
The n.o.bleman acknowledged the disclosure with a slight bow. ”Lord s.h.i.+rakawa was wounded, I believe.”
”Too slightly,” he replied. ”Better had I been killed. I should take my own life, but my daughters weaken me.”
Kaede had no desire to hear any more. Luckily they were interrupted by Ayame bringing tea and small pieces of sweetened bean paste. Kaede served the men and then excused herself, leaving them to talk further. Fujiwara's eyes followed her as she left, and she found herself hoping she might talk with him again but without her father present.
She could not suggest such a meeting directly, but from time to time she tried to think of ways to make it happen. A few days later, however, her father told her a message had come from the n.o.bleman inviting Kaede to visit him to view his collection of paintings and other treasures.
”You have aroused his interest in some way,” he said, a little surprised.
Pleased though somewhat apprehensive, Kaede told s.h.i.+zuka to go to the stables and ask Amano to get Raku ready and to ride with her to Fujiwara's residence, which was a little more than an hour's journey away.
”You must go in the palanquin,” s.h.i.+zuka replied firmly.
”Why?”
”Lord Fujiwara is from the court. He is a n.o.bleman. You can't go and visit him on a horse, like a warrior.” s.h.i.+zuka looked stern and then spoiled the effect by giggling and adding, ”Now, if you were a boy and rode up on Raku, he would probably never let you go! But you have to impress him as a woman; you must be presented perfectly.” She looked critically at Kaede. ”He'll think you too tall, no doubt.”
”He already said I was beautiful,” Kaede replied, stung.
”He needs to find you flawless, like a piece of celadon or a painting by Sesshu. Then he'll feel the desire to add you to his collection.”
”I don't want to be part of his collection,” she exclaimed.