Part 9 (1/2)
”The Terada can do no more than irritate the Otori,” he said, ”but between you maybe you can destroy them.”
I neither agreed nor disagreed with him but tried to change the subject, asking him about the fisherman and how he came to know him.
”If you mean, do I believe the nonsense he does, the answer is no!” he said. He caught my look and laughed. ”But my mother does.
It's quite widespread among prost.i.tutes. Perhaps it consoles them for their wretched lives. And besides, they should know if anyone does that all men are the same under their trappings. I don't believe in any G.o.d or any life beyond this one. No one's punished after death. That's why I want to see them punished now.”
The sun had burned off the mist and the island's cone shape was now clearly visible, looming up out of the ocean, smoke rising from it. The waves broke white against the gray-black cliffs. The wind had strengthened and drove us skimming over the swell. The tidal race past the island quickened. I felt my stomach heave as we sped down the face of a huge green billow and up the other side. I stared upward toward the craggy island and took a couple of deep breaths. I did not want to be seasick when I faced the pirates.
Then we rounded the headland and came into the lee. Ryoma shouted to me to take the oar as the sail fluttered and sagged. He untied it and let it fall, then sculled the boat through the calmer water toward the sheltered port.
It was a natural deepwater harbor, with stone walls and breakwaters constructed around it. My heart lifted at the sight of the fleet of vessels moored there, ten or twelve at least, st.u.r.dy and seaworthy, capable of carrying dozens of men.
The port was guarded by wooden forts at each end, and I could see men mside at the arrow slits, bows no doubt trained on me. Ryoma waved and shouted, and two men emerged from the nearer fort. They did not wave back, but as they walked toward us one of them nodded perfunctorily in recognition.
As we approached the quayside he shouted, ”Hey, Ryoma, who's the pa.s.senger?”
”Lord Otori Takeo,” Ryoma called back importantly.
”Is that so? Your brother, is he? Another of your mother's mistakes?”
Ryoma took the boat up to the wharf skillfully enough and held it steady while I disembarked. The two men were still chuckling. I did not want to start a brawl, but I was not going to let them insult me and get away with it.
”I am Otori Takeo,” I said. ”No one's mistake. I am here to speak to Terada Fumio and his father.”
”And we're here to keep people like you away from them,” said the larger guard. His hair was long, his beard as thick as a northerner's, his face scarred. He waved his sword in my face and grinned. It was all too easy; his arrogance and stupidity made him immediately vulnerable to the Kikuta sleep. I held his gaze, his mouth dropped open, and his grin turned to a gasp of astonishment as his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. He was a heavy man and he went down heavily, striking his head on the stones.
The other slashed out at me at once with his sword, but it was exactly the move I had expected and I'd already split myself and drawn Jato. As his sword went uselessly through my image, I struck it, twisted it, and sent it flying out of his hand.
”Please tell Terada I am here,” I said.
Ryoma had fastened the boat and was on the quayside. He picked up the man's sword. ”This is Lord Otori, you idiot. The one all the stories are about. You're lucky he didn't strike you dead on the spot.”
Other men had come running from the fort. They all now dropped to their knees.
”Forgive me, lord. I didn't mean to offend you,” the guard stammered, his eyes wide at what he no doubt thought was sorcery.
”Luckily for you I'm in a good mood,” I said. ”But you insulted my cousin. I think you should apologize to him.”
With Jato pointed at his throat the man did so, causing Ryoma to smirk with satisfaction.
”What aboutTeruo?” the guard said, gesturing at his unconscious companion.
”He won't come to any harm. When he wakes up he'll have learned better manners. Now, be so good as to inform Terada Fumio of my arrival.”
Two of them hurried away while the rest returned to the fort. I sat down on the quay wall. A tortoisesh.e.l.l tomcat who had watched the whole encounter with interest came and sniffed at the rec.u.mbent man, then jumped onto the wall next to me and began to wash itself. It was the fattest cat I'd ever seen. Seafaring men are reputed to be superst.i.tious; no doubt they believed the cat's coloring made it lucky, so they pampered it and fed it well. I wondered if they took it with them on their voyages. I stroked the cat and looked around. Behind the port lay a small village, and halfway up the hill behind it was a substantial wooden building, part house and part castle. It would have a fine view of the coast and the sea-lanes all the way to the city of Hagi. I couldn't help admiring the position and construction of the place and could understand why no one had been able to expel the pirates from their lair. I saw the men hurry up the mountain path and heard their voices as they reported their message at the gates of the residence. Then I caught the familiar sound of Fumio's voice, a little deeper and more mature but with the same excited cadence that I remembered. I stood and walked to the end of the quay. The cat jumped down and followed me. By now quite a crowd had gathered, hostile and suspicious. I kept my hand near my sword and hoped the cat's presence would rea.s.sure them. They stood watching me curiously, most of them as tense as I was, while Ryoma kept them informed of my ident.i.ty. ”This is Lord Otori Takeo, Lord s.h.i.+geru's son and heir, who killed Iida.” Every now and then he added, almost to himself, ”He called me cousin.”
Fumio came running down the hill. I'd been worried about my reception, but it was as warm as I could have hoped. We embraced like brothers. He looked older, had grown a mustache, and had filled out through the shoulders-in fact, he seemed as well fed as the cat-but his mobile face and lively eyes were unchanged.
”You came alone?” he asked, standing back and studying me.
”This man brought me.” I indicated Ryoma, who had dropped to the ground at Fumio's approach. Whatever his pretensions, he knew where the real power lay. ”I cannot stay long; I hope he will take me back again tonight.”
”Wait here for Lord Otori,” Fumio told him, and then as we began to walk away he called offhandedly to the guards, ”Give him something to eat.”
And don't tease him, I wanted to add, but was afraid of shaming him more. I hoped they would treat him better now but doubted it. He was the sort that invited ridicule, doomed always to be a victim.
”I imagine you've come for a purpose,” Fumio said, striding up the hill. He'd lost none of his energy and stamina. ”We'll bathe and eat, then I'll take you to my father.”
No matter how urgent my mission, the lure of hot water was more pressing. The fortified house had been built around a string of pools where water bubbled from the rocks. Even without its violent inhabitants, Os.h.i.+ma, the entrance to h.e.l.l, would have been a ferocious place. The volcano smoked above us, the air smelled of sulfur, and steam rose from the surface of the pools, where boulders loomed like the petrified dead.
We undressed and slid into the scalding water. I've never been in hotter. I thought my skin would be stripped from me. After the first agonizing moment the sensation was indescribable. It washed away the days of riding and sleeping rough, the nighttime boat trip. I knew I should be on my guard-a boyhood friends.h.i.+p was not much of a basis for trust-but at that moment anyone could have a.s.sa.s.sinated me and I would probably have died happy.
Fumio said, ”We've had news of you from time to time. You have been busy since we last met. I was very sorry to hear of Lord s.h.i.+geru's death.”
”It was a terrible loss, not only for me but for the clan. I am still pursuing his murderers.”
”Iida is dead, though?”
”Yes, Iida has paid, but it was the Otori lords who planned s.h.i.+geru's death and who betrayed him to Iida.”
”You intend to punish them? You can count on the Terada if you do.”
I told him briefly about my marriage to Kaede, our journey to Maruyama, and the forces under our command.
”But I must return to Hagi and take up my inheritance there. The Otori lords will not give it to me peacefully, so I will take it from them by force. And I prefer it that way, for then I will destroy them too.”
Fumio smiled and raised his eyebrows. ”You have changed since I knew you first.”
”I have been forced to.”
We left the hot water, dressed, and were served food in one of the house's many rooms. It was like a storehouse, a treasure trove of valuable and beautiful objects, all presumably stolen from merchant s.h.i.+ps: ivory carvings, celadon vases, brocade fabric, gold and silver bowls, tiger and leopard skins. I had never been in a room like it, so many precious things displayed but with none of the restraint and elegance that I was used to in the residences of the warrior cla.s.s.
”Take a closer look at them,” Fumio said when we'd finished eating. ”I'll 20 and speak to my father. If there's anything that appeals to you, take it. My father acquires them, but they mean nothing to him.”
I thanked him for the offer, but I had no intention of taking anything back with me. I sat quietly waiting for his return, outwardly relaxed but on my guard. Fumio's welcome had been affectionate, but I had no idea what other alliances the Terada might have; for all I knew they might have an understanding with the Kikuta. I listened, placing everyone in the house, trying to identify voices, accents-though I had long since realized that if I was walking into a trap, I had little chance of escaping. I had truly come alone into the dragon's lair.
I had already placed Terada-the dragon himself-toward the back of the house. I'd heard his voice issuing orders, demanding tea, a fan, wine. The voice was rough, full of energy, like Fumio's, often pa.s.sionate and also often angry, but sometimes revealing an underlying humor. I would not underestimate Terada Fumifusa. He had escaped the rigid hierarchy of the clan system, defied the Otori, and made his name one of the most feared in the Middle Country.
Finally, Fumio returned for me and led me to the back of the house, to a room like an eagle's nest, perched high above the village and the port, facing toward Hagi. In the distance I could just make out the familiar line of the ranges behind the town. The sea was still and calm, streaked like silk, indigo-colored, the waves forming a snowy fringe around the rocks. An eagle floated below, no bigger than a lark.
I had never been in a room like it. Even the top floor of the tallest castle was not this high or this open to the elements. I wondered what happened when the autumn typhoons came racing up the coast. The building was sheltered by the curve of the island; to construct something like this spoke of an immense pride as great as any warlord's.
Terada sat on a tiger skin facing the opened windows. Next to him on a low table were maps and charts, what looked like records of s.h.i.+pping, and a tube not unlike a bamboo flute. A scribe knelt at one end of the table, inkstone in front of him, brush in hand.
I bowed low to Terada and spoke my name and parentage. He returned the bow, which was courteous, for if anyone held power in this place it was undoubtedly he.
”I have heard a lot about you from my son,” he said. ”You are welcome here.” He gestured to me to come and sit at his side. As I moved forward, the scribe touched his head to the ground and stayed there.
”I hear you dropped one of my men without laying a finger on him. How did you do it?”