Minamoto no Yoshiie: “The weaving of your sleeve has come undone.”
Abe no Sadato: “It pains me, yet it cannot be mended.”
That is one variation of the exchange. The encounter was less than two weeks old, and already I had heard at least five different versions. I wondered what news of the event would be like by the time it reached the capital, but the basic details of the matter were not, to the best of my understanding, in dispute—Lord Yoshiie’s forces had routed Lord Sadato’s in one of their few open battles, and Lord Yoshiie had personally given pursuit when he spotted Lord Sadato fleeing the field. Lord Sadato was close to escaping, but Lord Yoshiie called out he had something to say to him. I have no idea why Lord Sadato would fall for such an obvious ploy, but it did lead to the exchange of verses, as laden with symbolism as any at Court. The “weaving of your sleeve” reference was to Lord Sadato’s fortresses, which were either in dire straits or already fallen to the Minamoto and their allies. Lord Sadato’s poetic response, in that context, is plain enough. From that point, the story made less sense. Supposedly Lord Yoshiie had prepared to fire an arrow at Lord Sadato, but changed his mind and let the man escape to fight again.
I resolved to ask Lord Yoshiie what really happened, if I ever had the chance, but such things did not have my highest priority. What was already clear enough was the encounter was well on its way to becoming the sort of thing legends were built upon. Considering he was already informally known as “Hachimantaro,” or the Son of the God of War, I didn’t think the legend had far to go.
All this had happened even before our own forces rejoined the main army, minus a substantial number to re-garrison the fortress with bushi loyal to the Minamoto cause. Unless any force Lord Sadato could muster was able to enlist the aid of a reluctant kappa, I did not think the stronghold was in much danger of changing hands again.
That only left Kuriya Castle, which was already under siege. Lord Yoshiie had cleverly diverted the Kuriya River itself to flood the area immediately around the castle, making either escape or relief much more difficult. I pondered looking for more kappa at that point, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to put young Taro through the ordeal again. I had already tested my own luck and that of those around me far more than even I considered wise. My armor was now packed away in the supply wagons, and so far as I was concerned, it could stay there. My last act before departing the northern castle was to set fire to the cart that had been my sister’s prison and watch it burn. We made new travel arrangements, as was necessary.
There was little for Kenji and me to do, except to wait on Lord Yoshiie’s pleasure. After another week Lord Yoshiie summoned me. I found him seated on a campstool on a hill near the river that had a commanding view of the siege. I kneeled, but he motioned me to sit on the empty stool beside him. At his nod, his guards and other counselors withdrew out of earshot.
“I have Akimasa’s report,” he said without preamble. “He apparently credits you for keeping our losses much lower than expected on the northern fortress, the details of why this is so remain a bit hazy, however. Could you enlighten me?”
“I . . . persuaded, for want of a better word, someone in a position to sabotage the gate to do so in our behalf. That was all. Most of the credit must go to Akimasa and the bushi under his command. He is a very capable person.”
“You were one of the first through the gate, according to Akimasa.”
“I had business within the fortress, my lord. Some of which you knew about.”
“And Lord Tenshin?”
“Lord Tenshin is dead. I killed him.”
“And the person you have been seen with who strongly resembles the dead man?”
“Is someone else, someone to whom I owe obligation. You have my word on this, my lord. The man responsible for the slaughter at Yahiko-ji is dead.”
Lord Yoshiie grunted. “Well, then . . . we will consider the matter closed.”
I bowed. “Thank you, my lord. And I was in earnest when I said most of the credit must go to Akimasa-san. It is a pity he is not of higher rank. He would make an excellent general.”
“That he would, I believe.”
“As for the issue of his rank . . . someone, perhaps, in a position of power could do something about this.”
“True,” Lord Yoshiie said. “Perhaps someone will, at the proper time.” He didn’t say anything else for a while. I simply waited.
He finally grunted. “Lord Sadato cannot hold out much longer. The castle will fall soon, and whether he surrenders or not, I must take Lord Sadato’s head back to the capital. There are no more shikigami, nor will there be. Is this not correct?”
“It is, my lord.”
“My father told me he saw a sign of our impending victory in the clouds while he was traveling to Dewa and arranged for a small shrine to the God of War to be built near Kamakura. I think I will visit it, on my way back to the capital. Perhaps I will take the time to enlarge it, if I may. My father is a great man, but he is always . . . circumspect, where his gratitude is concerned. My own is less constrained.”
“I am sure Hachiman-sama would look on such an act with approval,” I said, mostly because I wasn’t sure what else to say, but Yoshiie just ordered one of his attendants forward, who kneeled in front of me.
“You may consider your obligation to my welfare as requested by Prince Kanemore to be faithfully discharged, Lord Yamada, but I would ask a favor of you.”
The attendant produced two scrolls from a silk bag and presented them to me. Both were sealed with the Minamoto crest. Yoshiie went on, “I will supply a suitable escort for you and your associates to return to the capital. I would ask only that you personally deliver these two scrolls to Prince Kanemore, with my compliments.”
I—we, were going home. I considered it far past time. “I will be honored to do so,” I said, “but if may I be so presumptuous as to ask a favor of you in return?”
He frowned. “What is it?”
“Please release Lord Yasuna into my custody, so he may return to the capital as well. His presence or absence can make no difference to your enterprise now.”
“Except he has become a rather morose fellow these days,” Lord Yoshiie said. “Considering the matter, I do think it best for all concerned that he is returned home. You will actually be doing me another favor to take charge of him.”
“And I will be honored to do so.”
Once I was dismissed, I went to find Kenji. “Lord Yoshiie has discharged us, as our mission is complete,” I said. “We are going home. Lord Yasuna as well.”
He yawned. “Finally. It has been a splendid adventure indeed—if you can call chancing death most days of the week splendid—but I am weary of the provinces, and I am sick to death of cleaning up the human wrecks these bushi leave behind. Worse, I was beginning to think you were going to turn into one of them.”
I sighed. “Do not worry. While I am as uncertain of my place in the world as any man may be, I know the profession of warrior is not my path.”
“You should consider holy orders,” said Lord Tenshin, for I was, for the moment, still thinking of him in those terms. “Sister” was no longer appropriate, but “brother” was still too far away for me to grasp, as a concept and a reality both. Still, as confused as I was, I could only imagine it was worse for the one who had once been my sister, and yet she—he—had apparently accepted the change as the working of karma and was dealing with the matter probably far better than I was. I could see he had shaved his head and wore the garb of simple monk now. The clothes did not fit him well, but for now they would have to do.
Kenji snickered. “Please, if there was ever a man least suited for the monastic life—”
“—you mean aside from yourself?” I asked.
“Cruel, yet accurate,” Kenji said. “My point, however, stands.”
“Aside from myself,” Lord Tenshin said. “But that is the road fate and karma have left to me, so it is the one I will take. I fear we will soon be parting again, brother.”
“How are you . . . I mean, really? I was telling the truth; I did not plan what happened. How could I?” I asked.
“Honestly, I do not know how you men manage it,” he said as if he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. “Such obvious vulnerabilities and spiritual disadvantages . . . seriously, I had no idea. Yet if you can cope with what you are, then so can I. It may, however, take some time to adjust. I cannot be Rie, but I am certainly not Lord Tenshin. I will need time and solitude to figure out who and what I am.”
“Where will you go?” Kenji asked.
“I considered Yahiko-ji,” he said. “But it occurred to me to do so would mean I was punishing myself, which is not the path to enlightenment. Perhaps Mount Oe. Master Kenji, you yourself spoke of being trained there. It sounds wonderful.”
“Wonderful? It was hell on earth,” Kenji muttered.
“All the better,” said Lord Tenshin, looking serene. “I do think it best that I not remain in the north or in the capital where he—I mean I—might be recognized. I think my path must be west.”
“I think that would be wise. Yet our path home is through Yahiko-ji and on to the capital,” I said. “For now, let us go and give Lord Yasuna the good news.”
Our party increased by one before we returned to Kyoto. I think I had half-expected Mai to choose to remain at Yahiko-ji after all, but no sooner had we arrived than she presented herself to me, her spare clothes and everything else which belonged to her gathered into one bundle and ready for travel.
“Mai-chan is a fine young woman,” the old nun Tomoko said to me. “But she is not ready for holy orders, and so I must trust her to your care, Lord Yamada. The Lady Rie I remember would approve, I think.”
I was less certain of this, myself, but it did occur to me all I had to do to answer the question was to ask. I decided to let it lie. Once we left Yahiko-ji behind, our escort also increased by one. Several times I saw a flash of white in the hills and forests along the road. No more than that and no opportunity for a meeting. I considered the possibility Lady Kuzunoha had not yet forgiven me for our confrontation over Lord Yasuna and perhaps never would. Even so, I still believed it was a very good idea to be traveling in Lord Yasuna’s company. Our bushi might have been overwhelmed by a large enough force of bandits, but I pitied any such group thinking of attacking us so long as the fox demon was our shadow.
By the time we returned to Kyoto, I was still of uncertain mind where Mai was concerned. I felt it obviously inappropriate for her to stay in my rooms, yet I was afraid if she were lodged anywhere else at the Widow Tamahara’s establishment, the poor girl might assume I had sold her to a brothel. Fortunately, Kenji was able to arrange for her lodging at a nearby temple. Not that this prevented her from coming to my rooms on a daily basis to fetch and carry and clean and in all things behave as my servant. I wanted to tell her this was not necessary, but it also occurred to me, if she was not my servant, then what was she? Everyone needed a place in the world, so what would hers be? I did not know, and yet I had made a promise to her, and I was determined to keep it, yet I was far from certain as to how this would be accomplished.
Kenji was aware of my dilemma and, if anything, less sanguine on the subject than I. “I have said this before, Lord Yamada, and your situation has hardly changed since—you can barely take care of yourself. How will you look after Mai as well?”
“I can’t turn her out on the streets, Kenji-san.”
He looked affronted. “Did I suggest such a thing? No. The simplest solution would be to marry her, not that I believe this would be a great improvement to her situation.”
“Don’t be absurd. How fares my . . . your brother monk?”
“He left for Mount Oe yesterday. I wrote a letter of introduction to the abbot. Unfortunately my name will likely get him soundly beaten and left in a ditch rather than welcomed.”
I had met the abbot in question, and I did not consider this a likely outcome, but even so—“He left without saying goodbye?”
“I am rather certain he does not consider this ‘good-bye.’ So. Have you heard from Prince Kanemore yet?”
I had not, though we had been in the capital for over a week. Another passed before I finally received a summons, and when I did, it was to the Sixth Ward mansion where our journey had first begun. I arrived to find the place almost deserted, but to my surprise I was met by Taro.
“It is good to see you, Taro-san. How fares Shiroirei and Neko?”
“Considering their hardships, quite well.”
I almost laughed. “Their hardships? As I recall, Taro-san, they were looked after even more diligently than we were.”
“That is possibly true,” Taro said. “And I must ask your pardon for it, even as you must remember you chose to be where you were. They did not.”
I still did not laugh, but I could not keep from smiling. “That is a good point.”
“And now I am neglecting my duties once again. Prince Kanemore wants to see you, as you already know. I will take you to him.”
Prince Kanemore was waiting in the audience hall, but the feeling of being nearly alone in that great echoing building had not diminished. He was by himself by all appearance, though I knew two or three trusted guards and attendants aside from Taro must have been near. He wasn’t on the dais, he wasn’t even sitting in state. He merely stood in the middle of the room, waiting for me.
“It is very good to see you again, Lord Yamada,” he said.
I bowed and made as if to kneel, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back upright. “For now it is just you and I,” he said. “We needn’t be so formal and correct. First, I must apologize for making you wait for so long. It was not my intention.”
“You are a prince of the royal line,” I said. “I do not feel slighted if, as I suspect, you had higher priorities.”
“Higher? I would not say so. Yet I suppose you have heard the news by now.”
Indeed I had. We had not been in the capital more than a few days when word of the fall of Kuriya Castle reached Kyoto. The entire city was buzzing like a nest of hornets at the news.
“I suppose we must expect a triumphal return of the Minamoto heir?” I asked.
“Just so. There have been preparations and plans from dawn to dusk, but now there is just you and I, and I want to know what happened. More to the point, I would hear your opinion of Lord Yoshiie.”
“He is a good, honorable, and brave man; a gentleman, an inspired leader and a skilled diplomat. In the long run I think he will prove far more dangerous than Lord Abe ever dreamed of being.”
“Do you question his loyalty to the Emperor and his government?” Kanemore asked.
“Not in the least, not even for a moment.”
“Then why do you believe he is dangerous?”
“For the same reasons you do—doubtless this understanding was part of why you wanted me to accompany the army to Mutsu in the first place. Yoshiie was already a hero, and this campaign will solidify that reputation—and deservedly so. But it remains that the Abe do not rule in Mutsu now because the Minamoto chose to oppose them. They may have done so on behalf of the Emperor’s government, but Yoriyoshi accepted the commission primarily to advance the Minamoto Clan. You know this to be true, and through his brilliant son, he has succeeded. The Emperor’s will is law, but the Emperor’s power is what the military families choose to give. That was clear to the Abe Clan. It will be even clearer to others.”
Prince Kanemore’s brow darkened. I merely waited.
“You are right,” he said finally. “The Kiyohara and the Shibata saw how much could be accomplished, with or without the direction of the Emperor’s government. What we saw in Mutsu, we will see again, I fear. And again. This cannot be helped, but for now, the Emperor’s will is upheld. That is what I needed to accomplish, as surely as Lord Yoriyoshi himself did. We will welcome the young hero now called ‘Hachimantaro’ back to the capital, old friend, but we will do it with our eyes open.”
I did bow then. “Let us always have honesty between us, Highness. I do treasure politeness, but given the choice, I’ve always found honesty more useful. Except, perhaps, in the case of water goblins.”
Prince Kanemore laughed. “Water goblins? Lord Yamada, on another day I am going to ask you to tell me that story. For now, it will have to wait. I am neglecting other duties simply by being here.”
“Then let me do this quickly.” I produced the two scrolls that had been entrusted to me. “Lord Yoshiie requested I bring these to you personally. With his compliments, he said. I do not know what he meant by this.”
Prince Kanemore frowned, but he took the scrolls from me and broke the seal on the first one. Whatever was in the first scroll, no hint of its contents came to Prince Kanemore’s face. I believed the scroll to be readable, but Prince Kanemore was not. After studying the first scroll for a few moments he broke the seal on the second. When he looked up again, he was smiling like a man who had seen some wondrous object and didn’t quite know what to make of it.
“This always feels strange,” he said finally.
“Your pardon, Highness, but what feels strange?”
“Knowing something concerning you that you yourself do not know. You haven’t the vaguest notion of what is in these scrolls, do you?”
I frowned. “No, they were sealed. I certainly wasn’t going to open them simply to satisfy an idle curiosity.”
“There would have been no blame, as they both refer to you. The first is a declaration from Lord Yoshiie. As part of his reward for pacifying the Abe, he is formally requesting the Emperor posthumously exonerate and promote three degrees in rank a disgraced noble, namely one Yamada no Seburo.”
“My . . . ?”
“Yes, Goji-san. Your father. I can tell you right now His Majesty will likely grant this request, partly because it will cost the Emperor nothing to honor it, but mostly because it will be difficult to refuse the young hero anything. I had requested as much myself and was refused, as our friendship is well known, and my judgment in the matter is considered suspect. I had hoped the next Emperor would be more flexible, but likely that is years away still.”
I had not known that, either, but Kanemore, being Kanemore, had never told me.
“As for the second . . . ” Prince Kanemore paused to study the second scroll even more closely, as if there was something difficult contained therein and he wanted to avoid mistakes. “Yes. Twenty thousand. I knew I had read it correctly.”
I had a very odd feeling then. “Twenty thousand, Highness? Twenty thousand what?”
“Koku. In rice, as is the custom. That is the value of your new estate near Kamakura.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A koku was enough rice to feed a grown man for a year. Twenty thousand amounted to—
“That is correct, Lord Yamada. As of now, you are a wealthy man.”
“But . . . it is too much!”
“Lord Yoshiie would seem to disagree,” Prince Kanemore said. “And, as it is his estate to give, I rather believe he knows what he is doing. More to the point, by giving the news through me, he made sure I knew what he was doing. Rewarding my friends is not a poor way to get into my good graces. Which, for the moment and for whatever reason he desires this, I must consider Yoshiie to be.”
“You are the uncle of the Crown Prince,” I said.
“A good enough reason, I would think,” Prince Kanemore said. “This one I must take to the Emperor,” he said, referring to the first scroll. “This one belongs to you.” He handed me the second scroll, the one giving me title to the estate. A quick look was enough to tell me it was a clear grant, not a simple stewardship arrangement as I had thought at first—the estate was mine. All taxes owed, all income produced. With, it was clear to see, the latter far exceeding the former.
“What must I do?” I asked.
“It is a gift, and you must accept it graciously,” Prince Kanemore said. “Unless you wish to insult Lord Yoshiie and, by extension, the entire Minamoto Clan. You do not want to do that. He has also, intentionally I would imagine, placed your fortunes within the Minamoto sphere of influence. Regardless, and the diplomatic aspect aside, Lord Yamada, you’re going to need the income. Your family name will soon be rehabilitated, and in addition, you will inherit a higher rank than your father held in life. When that happens, it will be incumbent upon you to rebuild your clan. Doubtless you will have responsibilities, in due course. Responsibilities are expensive. Believe me, I know, but it is of no consequence. As I said, you are now a wealthy man.”
I wasn’t dismissed. Prince Kanemore simply bid me farewell and left, and I heard the sounds of his attendants and guards rejoining him once he had left the audience hall. Kenji had once said that life was an illusion, but never just one illusion, at least not for long. It never quite remained the same. I’m not sure he was talking about such a thing as this, but the illusion, if so it was, had definitely changed. In a moment or two, Taro appeared to escort me out.
“Taro-san, what do you want?”
He blinked. “Want, my lord? I don’t understand.”
“I mean in years to come. You are in the service of a prince, and that is a fine and envious thing by most opinions, but is it all you desire in this world?”
He hesitated. “I would not say anything against Prince Kanemore. He has been very kind to me.”
“Certainly not, nor am I asking you to do so. I merely asked if what you are doing now is what you always wish to do.”
He hesitated once more but finally replied in a low voice, “I want to breed and train horses, not merely groom and attend them. I think I have the knack for it, but there’s little use for such skills in the capital. Perhaps one day . . . ”
“I came to appreciate the creatures a bit more during our time together,” I said. “Yes. I can imagine you doing just that. I understand such things are more common around Kamakura.”
“And further west and east,” he said, “but yes, that is my understanding. I have never been there.”
I could see another conversation in the future with Prince Kanemore. The illusion, if I had anything to say of it, would change for more people than myself. When I left the Sixth Ward mansion, I made my way north to the Demon Gate. Kenji was there, plying his trade in spirit wards and exorcisms as I had expected. I sat down beside him and told him what had happened. He seemed rather less surprised by the turn of events than I was.
“You will accept,” he said. “Don’t try to wiggle out of it.”
“I don’t appear to have a great deal of choice in the matter.”
“Good, for despite your best efforts, you have finally become the rich friend I have always wanted. I was beginning to think it would never happen.”
“There is one stipulation, however—I will be in Kamakura. At least until I am established in my new estate. This may take a while.”
He frowned. “You’re not serious! Leave the capital? What matters besides this place?”
“The entire country matters, and this is only going to become more clear in time. Prince Kanemore knows that, even if most of the Court nobility does not. Yet.”
“I cannot fathom it,” Kenji said. “The provinces are either deadly dull or at war—deadly, period. They are best avoided.”
“Will this prevent you from visiting me?”
“Certainly not. Do you think I would break ties with a man who could endow my own temple? I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be an abbot.”
“A small temple,” I said. “Perhaps even tiny. Perhaps the size of a small privy.”
“A matter for later discussion,” he said, all serenity. “After all, Lord Tenshin—no, I have to stop calling him that. He is going to choose a new name for his new life, and as soon as he lets us know what that is, I will refer to him as such. Regardless, after Mount Oe . . . ?”
I could see Kenji’s point. Perhaps a larger temple. But, as he had said, this was a matter for later discussion.
“What about Mai?” he asked then.
“Oh, she will go with me.”
“Then are you going to marry her, as I suggested?”
I frowned. “Certainly not. The idea is ridiculous.”
Now Kenji looked puzzled. “She will remain your servant?”
“Remain? She is not my servant now, even if the poor girl seems to think otherwise.”
“Not a wife and, by extension I would suppose, not a concubine either. Not a servant . . . Lord Yamada, I am running out of potential relationships.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I will need to re-establish the Yamada Clan, so as my first act as clan chief, I’m going to formally adopt her.”
Kenji glanced toward the heavens. “Of course you are, because you are that kind of fool. You do realize she is already of marriageable age, don’t you?”
I demurred. “A little young, to my way of thinking, and she will need time for her education as a lady, but yes, if and when this happens, it will be the Yamada Clan’s first alliance since my father’s time. I am rather looking forward to it, but I will not force her. I have seen where such things lead.”
“This is all very well, but sooner or later you are going to require a son, or hadn’t you considered that? Lord Yamada, you really must think about finding a proper wife before you’re too old for such things to matter to you. As a friend, I’m telling you this sad day is probably a lot closer than you’d care to admit . . . no offense intended.”
“Possibly a little offense intended, “I said. “Yet I do see your point. I am not ruling the possibility out, understand, but I cannot leave my clan’s future to the winds of chance. So, concerning a son, I have a plan for this, too.”
“A plan? Oh, you mean Taro,” Kenji said. It wasn’t a question.
“Why not? I have seen enough children of the nobility and otherwise to know the results of any union can be . . . unfortunate. With Mai and Taro I know precisely what I am getting. The resurrected Yamada line will be off to a fine start.”
“I would argue with you on some general principle or other, but I know there is no point. Besides,” he said, “you are right. They will certainly be an improvement on you.”
“You think so?” I smiled, but it was mostly a show of teeth. “Now then, sir monk, let us discuss that temple.”