Autumn mists beckon
The approaching winter so
Rain may quench the earth
Horrified as I was by Tengen’s terrible words, everything fell into place for me. He had adored his wife and son. Their murder must have left him on the verge of madness. No doubt he had needed to get away from his home, where every glance roused memories of what had been. For such a tender-hearted man, it must have been a natural step to seek consolation in a monastery.
With the same certainty as the beads on an abacus reached the correct answer each time, I also understood why Tengen had insisted that it was necessary I learn to defend myself. Had he blamed himself for the tragedy, wondered over and over again, that if he had taught his wife at least the rudiments of jujutsu, she might have been able to defend herself and his son from their attacker? I felt sure he had, and because of that, he was now determined to do his best to ensure I could protect myself.
The idea pleased me greatly, but only for a moment as my thoughts went to Cho. I was half-horrified, half-fascinated by the tragedy. Love suicides—not just in the theatre, but in real life—were common. If a situation was hopeless in this life, then there was always the possibility that lovers might be reunited more favorably in a new incarnation. But this was no love pact. Rather, it was the sordid murder of a woman and a child.
“I am so sorry,” I said awkwardly. “Is that why you became a monk?”
I wanted to put my arms around him and offer him the comfort of my body, but it would have felt wrong. I shifted slightly and a flicker of soreness reminded me of the pleasure I had just taken with this man. I winced with guilt.
“No,” Tengen said. “I have only told you half the story. At first, I thought I was going to go mad. I had no enemies that I knew of. Or at least none that would do such a terrible thing to an innocent woman and child. There is a code amongst warriors, Mi-chan. We may hurt each other on the field of battle, kill if necessary, but no warrior would stoop so low as to take such cowardly revenge. I could think of no reason why anybody would want to kill Cho and Doi. I told my daimyo what had happened, and he in his turn reported it to the magistrates. He assured me that they would hunt down the attacker.
“I could no longer live in the house I had shared with my family. I moved back into the barracks with the rest of the men. At first, I was too full of grief to notice anything different. But after a while, it seemed to me that I was no longer quite as welcome as I had been before my marriage. I shrugged it off, thought my comrades were uncomfortable with my sorrow. I began to drink heavily. It did no good, but at least while the spell of the sake lasted, my memories of Cho and Doi were softened slightly.
“I think I may have become a hopeless drunkard if trouble hadn’t flared between my daimyo and his rival again. I was delighted. I flung myself into the conflict and fought like a madman. I took stupid risks, not caring if I lived or died. In fact, I hoped I would die.
“But I did not. My daimyo was deeply pleased with me. His captain of the guard was getting old, he told me. He would welcome retirement soon, and I could take his place. I agreed. It didn’t matter to me in the least.
“Even in my despair, I noticed something had changed in the attitudes of my comrades. Suddenly, I was accepted again. Although nothing could ever make up for Cho and Doi’s deaths, it was comforting to have friends once more.
“Or so I thought. To celebrate our success in battle, one of the men suggested we commandeer a house of pleasure. We would have it all to ourselves and could take our pick of the yujo. He raised his eyebrows suggestively at me as he said it. I wasn’t in the least interested, but I understood it was meant kindly, so I agreed.
“The house was a good one, and we were welcomed. We had cash in our pockets and swords by our sides. A couple of the men chose their yujo at once and vanished with them. The rest of us were not in such a hurry. We drank the house’s excellent sake and lolled around swapping yarns.
“After more flasks of sake than I could count had been drunk, there were only a few of us left. The man who had suggested our escapade poked me in the ribs.
“‘Nice to see you alive again, Tengen,’ he slurred. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough to drink. I think I’ll take my pleasures upstairs. I rather like the look of that one.’ He grinned at a pretty yujo, who giggled and hid her face behind a fan. ‘Still plenty left for you to choose from.’ I was about to refuse when he dragged his attention from the girl and looked at me with the exaggeratedly serious expression of a man who is very drunk and knows it will take an effort to get his words in the right order. ‘I owe you an apology, comrade. We all do.’
“For some reason, the sake that was clouding my brain evaporated suddenly. I shrugged and murmured cautiously, ‘Not at all.’
“He clapped me on the shoulder and nodded wisely. The effect was spoiled when he burped loudly.
“‘You’re a good man. A good comrade. We were all wrong about you, and I’m pleased to admit it. Here’s to better times to come.’
“He raised his sake cup to his lips and seemed astonished when he found it was empty. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wanted to know. He was already making eyes at his yujo. If he went off with her now, I would never find out what he was talking about. I reached across and lifted a flask from its warming vessel and gave it a little shake. It was half-full.
“‘She can wait for a while.’ I filled his cup and said casually, ‘Of course we’re comrades. We fight together, don’t we?’
“‘S’right. Course we do. I can see that now. But when you married pretty little Cho, well…things were a bit different, weren’t they? You weren’t yourself anymore. Instead of being a fighter, a man you could trust to guard your back in a fight, you were mooning around her like an aunty determined to protect the prettiest maiko in the place!’
“I filled his sake bowl again and forced a grin. ‘Was that what it looked like?’
“‘To be honest with you, it did. You were more like a father with her than a husband. We were all amazed when you got her pregnant. We thought you hadn’t even managed to work up to touching her, you were so frightened of hurting her. Doi was yours, I suppose? Not her lover’s child?’
“I felt as if somebody had struck me hard in the stomach. I searched for words, but nothing would come out. I think my companion must have realized he had gone too far as he began speaking quickly.
“‘Of course he was your son. The image of you, he was. Don’t you worry. With our daimyo to keep them on the job, the magistrates will find that bastard who killed them. Should be easy enough. They know who he is. It’s just a matter of catching up with him.’
“He nodded wisely and hauled himself to his feet, tottering over to his yujo. I watched him go. I was so shocked by his words I made no attempt to call him back, but sat staring into space, my mind reeling as if I was the one who had drunk far too much sake.
“A few girls were left. None of them would have been my first choice in any other circumstance, but as it was when one of them came across to me and began to rub her face against my cheek, I agreed readily when she suggested going upstairs. It seemed that if I refused, my comrades would begin to doubt me all over again, and I did not want that to happen.
“It didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t do anything. The girl was very skilled, but I lay at her side like a log. All I could think of was my Cho with her lover. Had they both laughed at me, the idiot who worshipped his wife? Did he make love to her in ways I didn’t? Ways she preferred? Finally, the yujo gave in and sat up, fiddling with her hair sulkily. I paid her anyway and went back downstairs.
“A number of my comrades had returned by then, and they greeted me with laughter and applause. I pretended to be injured by their reception, and they laughed all the louder.”
“They could have been lying to you,” I said desperately. But the remembered hurt was rolling from him like sea mist.
“They were not. They slapped me on the back and forced sake on me. That night, it might as well have been water for all the effect it had on me. I watched my comrades grow befuddled and stupid as they toasted me time and time again.
“‘Cho was a pretty woman to be sure,’ one of them slurred. ‘But far more than any one man could handle.’
“I shrugged and muttered something about doing my best. That got another round of laughter.
“‘Come on, admit it. You were too soft with her. As soon as you found out she’d taken a lover, you should have been firm with her. Taken a whip to her hide. Shown her who wore the sword in your family instead of mooning about like a love-sick calf. We all thought she’d eaten your kintama with her rice. We know better now, of course,’ he added cheerfully.
“How I managed to sit there and take their jokes, I have no idea. Almost worse than anything was the fact that everybody—except me—appeared to know that Cho had taken a lover. Did my daimyo know as well? It was a bitter thought, but given the lack of progress from the magistrates, I thought that perhaps he did. What was the point in spending time and cash in pursuing the murderer of an unfaithful wife? These things happened. No point in making things worse by fussing over them.
“I was beyond anger by then. My mind was coldly rational, and my thoughts were as straight as arrows in flight.
“I would find out who Cho’s lover had been. And I would find him. Beat him until he screamed for mercy in just the same way Cho must have pleaded with him. And just like him, I would show no mercy at all.
“I laughed with my comrades and encouraged them to talk about Cho’s lover. Pretending it meant nothing to me was the most difficult thing I have ever done. I must have been convincing, as one of my friends leaned over and spoke confidentially to me.
“‘I can understand you hesitating about coming between Cho and Taiho. I saw him wrestle when he was a young man. Even then, he was a very talented sumo wrestler, and with his height and weight, he could have made a real name for himself. But he didn’t have the discipline to keep it up, and after he was reprimanded a few times by his master for missing practices, he took jobs from anybody who wanted someone to keep the peace in their establishment. He was a big man and got more solid as he got older. He never ran to fat like most sumo wrestlers do when they don’t exercise.’ I nodded casually as if none of this was news to me. ‘He always had women chasing him. Treated them all like dirt, knocked them about a bit to keep them in line. And the worse he treated them, the more they came back. No accounting for women.’
“Bitter bile came into my mouth and I swallowed it before I could vomit. My butterfly, who I had always treated as if she were as delicate as a folded paper origami, had preferred a man who treated her like dirt to me? It was beyond my comprehension.”
A chilly wind made me shiver. Tengen noticed immediately and rose to his feet.
“You are cold. My fault. I was so lost in my past I…I wasn’t here for a moment. Let me help you.”
He kneeled and pulled my kimono in place. The sash defeated him. He glanced at it and then handed it to me with a rueful smile before gathering his own robes together and slipping them on. I finished dressing rapidly. I wanted—no, I needed, to hear the end of his story and was anxious that he might not carry on.
“I’m fine. Not cold at all,” I lied. “Tell me the rest.”
“Perhaps we should go back to the house? If any of the servants find us, it will look odd that we are just sitting in the dojo, doing nothing.”
“No,” I said hurriedly. “There’s no one about. If anybody comes this way, we’ll hear their footsteps on the gravel path. Here.” I picked up one of my brother’s discarded wooden practice swords. “If anybody comes, you can pretend you are instructing me.”
Nothing short of an earthquake could have moved me at that moment. Tengen looked so doubtful, I wondered if he was regretting sharing his terrible memories with me. My emotions were ragged. Already our lovemaking seemed unreal, as if my longing for it to happen had made it seem true, in my mind at least. And Tengen’s story didn’t help. It was so extraordinary, it felt more like something out of a kabuki drama than real life. I was bewildered and not a little frightened of the man who was now my lover. The man who was not the man I had thought him to be.
It seemed as if he had spent half a day telling me his history, but a glance at the sun assured me it had been no time at all. I sat up straight, forcing all my worries to one side. I knew it was ridiculous, but I was jealous of the unknown Cho, no matter that she was dead. Once, she had lived. Once, Tengen had loved her. Did he still? I needed to know. If I did not, the uncertainty would haunt my dreams forever.
“Tell me the rest,” I said.
“I have never told anybody this much. There has never been any need before.” Tengen looked at me curiously, as if he was as unsure about me as I was about him. I felt a surge of relief. I was very special to him. It had to be so.
“Tell me,” I repeated.