“After all this time, yet another ghost,” Kenji muttered. “Are we to spend the rest of our lives chasing one angry ghost or another?”
I was thinking of the spirit of Princess Teiko. “Other than the ones chasing us? That is in the hands of fate and karma, Master Kenji. Not ours. Not as long as both they and we have unfinished business.”
“If you’re referring to Princess Teiko, she didn’t appear angry to me.”
“No, but she does want something. Since I’m no longer certain what that ‘something’ is, we may be facing her anger after all.”
We spent the night at an inn within the Grand Shrine complex. The next morning, accompanied by our escort, we set out for Saiku to take our leave of the high priestess. From there I hoped to reach the Suzuka Pass before nightfall, though I knew this hope was probably optimistic. Kenji had been in a sour mood since I’d related to him as much of my conversation with Yorinobu as I felt prudent. I hadn’t named the man I’d met with, of course, except to Kenji. The fewer people who knew of the acting saidaijin’s involvement, the better for everyone.
“I don’t suppose we have any leeway as to exorcism?”
“Wards may be in order but no exorcism, Master Kenji. Not until we know why the ghost is there. Patience.”
He frowned. “Rubbish. At a time like this, Prince Kanemore first sent us to Ise just to gain a client—which neither of us wanted or needed? I’m not a simpleton, Yamada-sama. There is far more going on here.”
“Of course there is.”
“But you’re not going to tell me,” he said.
I twitched the reins to avoid a hole in the road. “I suspect there will come a time when you know as much or more than I do. That is unavoidable, but until that day comes, you’re better off not knowing. I fear you’re simply going to have to trust me for now.”
“It would be a long way from the first time,” he said. “And not always to the best conclusion.”
True enough, but I ignored his comment and simply let him sulk. Kenji’s mood lingered for a while, but by the time we approached Saiku and the Bamboo Palace, a little of his old cheer was returning. “Do you think I will be allowed in this time? I would like to meet this priestess.”
“I have no doubt of that,” I said, “though I do not know how likely it is that either of us will see her today. She has other duties, and this is just a courtesy call.”
“So was our first time at the Bamboo Palace,” he said. “You still haven’t told me everything about that meeting, either.”
“There was nothing more to tell.”
Which wasn’t entirely true, nor did I think he believed me, yet there were aspects to my meeting with Princess Tagako which I hadn’t fully grasped myself, and expressing my confusion in Kenji’s presence would be to invite unwarranted speculation. I let him imagine what he would. It seemed the least dangerous course.
We arrived at Saiku in good time only to find the place in what I could only describe as highly organized turmoil. Servants were scurrying about like ants. I noted wagons being loaded with clothing chests and cooking supplies and all manner of things. On the same hill where we had camped that first day at Saiku, there was another encampment displaying the Minamoto colors.
Morofusa scowled. “With your permission, I will go speak to them.”
“By all means.”
Morofusa soon returned, accompanied by an older bushi I didn’t recognize. They both kneeled. “Yamada-sama,” Morofusa said, “this is Minamoto no Akimasa. He is the shōshō of twenty bushi from the Capital sent to join with our group.”
I frowned. “Join with us? For what reason?”
Akimasa held up a sealed scroll and presented it to me. “At Prince Kanemore’s request, Yamada-sama. Together we will have the honor of escorting Princess Tagako on her return to the Capital.”
“You seem surprised,” Princess Tagako said.
Despite the bustle around us, this meeting with the high priestess of the Grand Shrine was much more formal than the first. Princess Tagako spoke from her dais behind a kicho of silk mesh that allowed us to just see her outline. I could only imagine Kenji’s disappointment, as so far he had held his tongue and was the very model of decorum.
“I have heard no news,” I said. “Does this mean . . . ?”
“I received word just this morning that Emperor Go-Reizei has left this world six days ago,” she said. “His funeral rites have already begun.”
I hesitated to ask. “Is . . . is there any news on the succession?”
“The formal enthronement, as I understand it, has not yet taken place, but that is ceremonial only. Takahito is now Emperor Go-Sanjo, and in that capacity has officially summoned me back to Kyoto.”
My first thought was not happiness for either Takahito or Kanemore, both of whom had long looked forward to this day for their own reasons. Nor even grief for the late emperor, who was, in my estimation, a decent man. For the moment, all I could think of was Princess Teiko.
Your son is emperor, Highness. It is what we both wanted. Are you at rest now?
Kenji spoke up then. “It is the custom for the new emperor to appoint another saiō upon his ascension, is it not?”
“Indeed, Master Kenji. My appointment has lasted for almost eighteen years, but it ends with the passing of his late majesty. Now my duty is to bid goodbye to the life I have known here and return to the Capital to make way for my replacement. There is a series of traditional rituals I must perform during my return, but when the last of them is done, I will no longer be high priestess of the Grand Shrine. I am informed that Imperial Princess Toshiko has already completed her purification period. She will depart for Saiku once the funeral rites for Emperor Go-Reizei are concluded.”
I knew this ritual purification took about a year. It was clear the crown prince or those closest to him had understood that the late emperor’s health had been failing for some time.
“Takahito’s daughter is only twelve, which I believe is about the same age you were upon your appointment as saiō. You know the great responsibility thrust upon her now.”
“I do. But strangely enough, I never found it burdensome,” she said. “And it was a life of serenity away from the court. Most of my predecessors, I think, were eager to leave this place. I will miss it.”
“We are honored to be traveling with you,” I said.
I still wasn’t certain if I should be more triumphant or worried at the news that Takahito was now emperor. Lord Yorinobu had made it quite clear that the Fujiwara were by no means done interfering. Somehow, despite everything, I had expected to be in the Capital before affairs proceeded this far, though if anyone had asked me what possible role I could have played in the events in the Capital of the last several weeks and to what purpose, I could not have answered them. Now, thanks to Lord Yorinobu, I did have a purpose, but Prince Kanemore’s request meant that again my return to the Capital would be delayed. The saiō’s procession back to the Capital was one of tradition, not expedient haste. By my estimation our arrival in Kyoto was more than a week away, yet I knew that even the Fujiwara wouldn’t attempt to force an abdication of a sitting emperor in less than a week. Knowing this did not reassure me whatsoever.
“I will be ready to depart at first light tomorrow,” Tagako said. “Until then, I must bid you gentlemen good day. There is much yet to do.”
“We are at your disposal,” I said, and we took our leave.
Morofusa had arranged our campsite to combine with that of the Minamoto from the Capital. On our way back to the hill, Kenji was the first to speak.
“I must say this—I really hate veils. Was she as beautiful as she sounded?”
“Even more so, you old lecher. Not that this is of concern to either of us. I only wish we could hurry our return.”
Kenji grinned. “No chance of that. I spoke to Akimasa earlier and discovered our new route. Remember that fishing village on the Kushida River where we stayed before arriving at Saiku? First we return there where Princess Tagako must perform a purifying ritual similar to the one she performed after her appointment. Then we travel west from Ise across the Kii Peninsula then turn north to the old capital at Nara, avoiding the Suzuka Pass altogether. Yet from Nara, only a day away from Kyoto, mind, we divert southeast to Osaka Bay for another ritual. Then we travel back to the village we stayed the night before, stay another day, and then return to Nara. In Nara we also wait another day before returning, finally, to the Capital.”
I almost groaned. If anything, I had underestimated the time it would take. Yet Prince Kanemore had known that as well. So far as I could tell, there was no reason for Kenji and me to be a part of Tagako’s escort, and yet we were. It almost seemed as if, having sent Lady Kuzunoha to inform me of the seriousness of the situation, Prince Kanemore had then deliberately delayed my return. Granted, if I were to meet with Lord Yorinobu in a fashion that would arouse no suspicion, the Grand Shrine at Ise was perfect. That much had made sense to me. This did not.
One day, I hope I will have the opportunity to ask him about this.
For now, there was nothing for it but to perform our duties as required. I checked the position of the sun, noting there was no more than an hour or two of daylight left.
“I’m going for a walk,” I said.
“This late in the day?” Kenj scowled. “Whatever for?”
“To be alone for a little while. To clear my head. If you tell Morofusa where I’ve gone, I’ll cut your head off. Or cut my patronage to your temple in half for the next year, your choice.”
He winced. “That’s hardly a choice at all. Where are you going? So I’ll know where I’m not telling him you are.”
I looked east. “That way.”
“Ise Bay is that way.”
“Then that is where I am going,” I said, and set out at a brisk walk. I glanced back once to see Kenji shaking his head. The next time I glanced back, he was gone. I passed a small grove of maples before I was able to see the bay. Far on the other side of it lay Kamakura and the life I had come to know. It had been three years since I’d left the Capital, and I had very mixed feelings about returning there now, but for the moment I was content to put those emotions aside. I breathed in the salt air, simply grateful for a little time to myself. There was so much about the situation in the Capital I didn’t understand, and even my unexpected meeting with Lord Yorinobu hadn’t clarified much. I already knew the Fujiwara were likely to interfere with the emperor’s rule. This gave me a clear goal, a purpose in returning. I also had Lord Yorinobu’s mission to consider. I wasn’t foolish enough to think these were the only reasons I had for going to the Capital. I knew there was more going on than I was yet aware, and my ignorance was more than frustrating—it was dangerous.
I looked out over the water for some time, but if I’d expected an interval of calm and reflection to provide any answers, I was disappointed. Nothing suggested itself. Soon the sun was dipping low over the maples and it was time to head back to camp. I was almost at the grove when Morofusa stepped into view and bowed.
“Did you enjoy your excursion, my lord?”
Either I was getting careless or my time in Kamakura had dulled my senses even more than I suspected. I’d allowed an armed man within bowshot of me, and I’d been oblivious the entire time. “Yes, but now it appears I will need to cut Master Kenji’s head off.”
He frowned. “Lord Yamada, whatever for?”
“Did he not tell you where to find me?”
“No one told me. I saw the two of you together, but when you didn’t return to camp with him, I followed you.”
Then I was even a little more disappointed in myself. I had been followed and was completely unaware of it. I considered for a moment the demon-hunter I had once been and wondered what he would think of me now.
“I must be getting old,” I said aloud.
“Such is the fate of all who live, Lord Yamada, but please remember that it is my responsibility to make certain that you continue to grow older until you are safely returned to the Capital. If anything . . . unpleasant were to happen to you, my men and I would also experience something unpleasant. Likely equally so.”
I hadn’t thought of that. There was a lot I had not yet thought of, and my ignorance could have equally dire consequences for those around me.
“Morofusa-san, while the area around the Bamboo Palace is probably as safe as anywhere in the emperor’s domain, it was foolish of me to wander off alone. I promise not to do so again.”
He bowed once more. “That is all I ask.”
In contrast to the great confusion and bustle of the day before, the next morning’s procession was arranged in a very orderly fashion and we were ready to depart Saiku in good time. Princess Tagako and her closest attendants traveled in shuttered carriages drawn by oxen, as was the custom for one of her rank, while the rest of her attendants and servants traveled on foot. That was the pace those of us on horseback followed, with the exception of scouts Morofusa sent ahead and Akimasa, forming the rearguard with his detachment, sent to the rear and flanks. The two shōshō coordinated well, and I had the feeling this was not the first time they had served such functions together. I asked Morofusa about this on the way back to the Kushida River.
“Once or twice,” he admitted. “We’ve shared duties at the Capital before. Akimasa is more experienced than I am, but he knows my instincts are generally sound. We work well together.”
The first day passed without incident. We reached the village where Princess Tagako performed the required ceremony, and then we spent the night at the same temple, though this time our numbers required that we set up camp within the temple walls while the guest quarters were turned over to Tagako and her attendants. I was pleased to see neither Akimasa nor Morofusa depended on the temple walls but rather posted their own guards to complement the sohei provided by the temple. Kenji likewise made his rounds to search for anything of an unnatural bent but he found nothing, and our night likewise passed without incident. The next morning we crossed into the mountains south of the Suzuka Pass, and by mid-morning we stopped for a meal at a site overlooking the Yamato plain. We reached Asuka well before evening.
Our lodging had been arranged within an old temple near what had once been the imperial palace, but there was nothing left of the palace compound save a few scattered stones. As was the custom, Princess Tagako received a few official visitors from the area, but the formalities didn’t take very long. The day turned into a clear night, and several members of our party gathered on the temple’s veranda to admire the last sliver of the waning moon. Tagako’s kicho was arranged so that she could see the sky without having to look through a veil.
“I wonder what this temple was like, back when Asuka was the capital,” she said. “You can see the remains of greatness about this place.
This was true. The stonework of the temple’s foundations was first rate, if poorly maintained. Yet that place had been a village before it became the seat of the emperor, and it was still a thriving town long after his departure. Even so, there was an air of shabbiness about the surviving places. Places no longer as important as they had once been.
Kenji, only recently returned from a patrol around the temple compound, agreed. “I saw many signs of what this place had once been. So we are reminded of the impermanence of this world.”
I sometimes admired the easy way that Kenji blended into groups under the guise of a priest. Yes, technically he was a priest and firmly believed the things he said in that context, but at the same time I could never help but see it as a bit of misdirection. Possibly a flaw in my own character, perhaps envy. Most of my life I was never clear on the role I was to play, and now as the newly prosperous Yamada no Goji, I was even more confused. I wondered if I would ever fit as comfortably into my role as Kenji did in his.
“Did you see anything else?” I asked. I didn’t elaborate, but Kenji knew my meaning.
“Nothing unusual,” he said. “The temple grounds have seen better days, but they’re still in good condition.”
Meaning he had detected no supernatural threats. That was a relief. Morofusa and Akimasa would set their sentries as always, but it was the threat of creatures against which blades were not always effective that concerned me most.
“Tomorrow we resume our journey,” Princess Tagako said, “but I must first ask your indulgence in the morning, gentlemen. There is an ancient site near Asuka I wish to visit, a place older than Asuka or this fine temple. I promise to keep the delay to a minimum.”
“We are, as always, at your service,” I said. “May I ask where we are going?”
“A very, very old tomb.”
Kenji and I exchanged glances. Kenji spoke first.
“Highness, would you be referring to the Ishibutai Kofun?”
“You know of it?”
“I traveled widely in my youth and had the privilege of passing through this area before. The kofun is quite interesting,” he said, “though would it be impertinent of me to ask why you wish to see it?”
“Because, Master Kenji, once I reach the Capital, it is very unlikely I will be able to leave it again easily, if at all. If there is anything I wish to see or do before that day, there is no better time than now.”
I had gotten far too accustomed to asking questions as they occurred to me. If I had paused for even a moment to reflect, if I had understood the sadness in Tagako’s words then, I would not have spoken at all. But I did not.
“Highness, what are your plans once we reach Heian-kyo?”
She did not answer for a long moment.
“I have none,” she said finally. “As I will have little part in making them. Most likely I will be married off to some official or other. I’m still young enough, and there is more than a little prestige attached to a former saiō. If the business is not negotiated and concluded before we reach the Capital, I would be surprised.”
Of all my shortcomings of the past several days, I think I regretted this one the most.
“It was a foolish and inappropriate question, Highness. Forgive me.”
She politely dismissed my apology. “Say rather it was foolish of me to complain. I understand the obligations of one of my station, and the price attached to my prerogatives. There is nothing to forgive.”
Tagako excused herself soon after, pleading fatigue. Which was no doubt true, as far as it went. Travel was tiring, even if all one had to do was sit in a carriage, but I knew that this was not the only reason.
When the others had retired, Kenji and I remained on the veranda for a bit, though now the clouds had gathered and the moon hid her face from us.
“Lord Yamada, that was cruel of you. Intentional or not.”
“Not,” I said. “But it was cruel, nonetheless.”
That night I dreamed a familiar dream. I was back on the shores of Lake Biwa just northeast of the Capital, on my way to meet with Princess Teiko for what I did not realize would be the last time in this life. The dream was sometimes a little different, but never different in the way that mattered. It was a dream I always encountered in an ironic state of wakefulness. I was always aware it was a dream, and I always knew what was to come, but I could never wake myself, not until the dream was done with me. For a time I had been spared the dream, after the day in Shinoda Forest when I thought I had said goodbye to Teiko in the guise of one of Lady Kuzunoha’s illusions, but now it was back.
Considering the circumstances, I was not at all surprised.
I was vaguely aware of the other players in the dream. I walked past a ghostly image of Prince Kanemore’s encampment. Their flickering campfires cast shadows on the cloth barrier surrounding it, but there was no reason to stop. I walked on to where Princess Teiko was waiting for me.
She kneeled by a campfire, dressed in a noblewoman’s notion of a peasant’s clothing. She wore a wide-brimmed hat with a veil around the rim, but she had pulled it back so we could talk face to face. She sipped a cup of Chinese tea and didn’t bother to look at me as I kneeled beside her.
“Am I not a glorious sight now?” she said.
“Highness—” I began, but she cut me off.
“Just Teiko. My titles are stripped. Not that I mind so much. After all, what are titles to the dead?”
I finally understood. This dream was no common vision sent from whatever hell had the charge of such things to torment me. This was different.
“This is not just a dream,” I said. “You’re really here, aren’t you?”
She raised her sleeve to hide her smile. “I’ve never gone very far, truth be told. Or rather, I have. Farther than forever. I imagine it is a matter of perspective. ”
For a moment or two she didn’t speak again but merely sipped her tea. I had the feeling she was waiting for something.
“Tell me what I need to do,” I said.
She did not bother to conceal her melancholy smile. “I’m afraid this doesn’t work that way. While appearing to you in your dream is, in many ways, easier for me, this is not my domain and I do not make the laws that govern it. You have to ask, whatever it is.”
I tried again. “What must I do?”
She sighed. “I can’t tell you.” She saw my protest forming and moved quickly to head it off.
“What I mean is that I literally cannot. I’m sorry, but my fate is written,” she said. “It is the one I chose, as you well know. However, yours is not, nor is Kenji’s, nor my son’s. Action can only take place in the living realm. I cannot tell you what you must do, even though I think I know what you should do. Whatever course you take, you must choose it yourself. You yet live, and so long as you do, you must decide. I cannot interfere.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Why are you still attached to this world?”
She laughed then, delicately. “Oh, you clever man. You hope by revealing this I will give you some hint about a course for you. Yet you already know. My son and his welfare, his destiny.”
“Your son is emperor. Why do you say I am not yet done? Is there more?”
“Because you are not and there is. Honestly, Lord Yamada. We have so little time and you are wasting it.”
“What if I chose to walk away now? To forget about you and your son and return to Kamakura. Could I do that?”
“I do not think you will do that,” she said. “But you could. It is your right. I understand it is my own selfishness, my own hopes and wishes for my son that keep me trapped here. If I could have severed these ties on my own, I would have done so, but I cannot. I am not strong enough. If you do not help me, I will remain here, possibly forever, a mournful spirit in a world that has forgotten me.”
“Then I will help you if I can,” I said. “You already knew that.”
“I believed so. I hoped for it. Yet I have been known to make mistakes. Once in a while.”
I could sense the arrival of the sun, and I knew we had no more time.
“You appeared to Princess Tagako in her dreams, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, and put the teacup aside.
“What did you mean to tell her? Your message wasn’t clear.”
“I meant to say exactly what I did say. I told her two different things, both true. How she acts on them is for her to decide.”
In one smooth motion, Teiko rose and stood silhouetted against the fire. “Even here, this is hard for me. I do not know if we will see each other again. I do not know if I should even hope for it. Hope is a powerful but very, very dangerous thing.”
She walked away then, toward the lake. I tried to move, to follow her in time, as I had failed to do twelve years before, but I could not move. The one kindness the dream offered was that this time I could not turn to see, but then I heard the crack! as Princess Teiko’s body fell into the water. There should have been a splash; I knew that much even at the time, but the sound was much louder, much sharper, and it struck me like a blow to my chest, as it always had, over and over again.
It was the sound of my world ending.