Shike, Robert J. Shea [ebook reader that looks like a book TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert J. Shea
- Performer: -
Book online «Shike, Robert J. Shea [ebook reader that looks like a book TXT] 📗». Author Robert J. Shea
Gojo Avenue was lined with willows, the leaves on their trailing branches turning to autumn gold. The mansions along the avenue were surrounded by low walls of white stone, a token hindrance to intruders. But, a sign of troubled times, many of the mansions had new, high bamboo palisades built around them. Others looked abandoned, as if their owners had sought safer places to live. Each estate consisted of numerous one-storey buildings connected by covered corridors and surrounded by gravelled courtyards and landscaped gardens.
Twice they passed mansions that had been burned during the night. The grounds of one were completely deserted. Nothing was left but smouldering ruins. Burnt trees stood like black poles.
The second burnt mansion was surrounded by samurai, who greeted Taniko’s escort familiarly. Servants combed through the ashes for valuables and loaded whatever they could find in an ox-cart.
“That was the home of a noble who supports the Takashi,” one of the samurai with Jebu explained. “The Muratomo dogs burned it. Tonight we will burn some Muratomo mansions.”
Stupid, thought Jebu. People spent years of their lives building these homes and the beautiful things that went into them. Centuries had gone into the making of this lovely city. All to be destroyed in one night by some idiot with a torch. What prize could be worth such a loss?
Taniko’s uncle, Ryuichi, stood on the veranda of the main house of the Shima family’s Heian Kyo residence, waiting to greet his niece. He resembled his older brother, Bokuden, but was stouter in body and rounder in face, as if life in the capital had softened him. The look he gave Taniko as she stepped down from her carriage was kindly. His manner reassured Jebu as he prepared himself to leave her.
Covering her face modestly with her fan, Taniko said, “Uncle, this Zinja monk single-handedly killed a band of three samurai who were threatening to kidnap me. He faithfully escorted me all the way from Kamakura and brought me safe to your door. I hope you will reward him appropriately.”
“How awful that my lovely niece should have been in such danger,” Ryuichi exclaimed. “With respect to my elder brother, I knew the Tokaido was dangerous and I believed you should have had a large escort of samurai. But, thanks to the prowess of this monk, you are safe. I will speak to him in a moment. Tanikosan, it is not proper for you to display yourself in the open air before a group of men, even when the occasion is important. You must learn the manners of the capital, my child. Come into our house. Your aunt, Chogao-san, will make you welcome and comfortable.”
Without a backward look at Jebu, Taniko was gone. Ryuichi followed her. Jebu turned towards the street. He did not dare look after Taniko. What was between them must remain secret for ever. He felt a hand on his arm. It was Moko. Jebu looked into the crossed eyes and found them bright with tears.
A moment later Ryuichi returned to the veranda. “You have done well, shik��. You have earned the gratitude of the Shima family. How may we reward you?”
Jebu could imagine Lord Bokuden’s rage if he knew his brother was offering a reward. “The Order has been paid for my services, my lord. I may not accept a reward for myself.”
“Nothing at all?”
Then Jebu remembered. “There is one thing. I took a sword from a samurai I had to kill, protecting Lady Taniko. It is in her baggage. I would like to keep it as-as a memento of the journey.”
Beaming, Ryuichi clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course. And you shall have that horse as well. You may turn it over to your Order if you wish, but at least you won’t leave here on foot.”
Smiling to himself at the thought of Lord Bokuden’s annoyance, Jebu accepted.
A row of white stones, intended to represent the Shima trading fleet, crossed the centre of the pond in the mansion garden. Jebu sat cross-legged looking at the women’s pavilion on the north side of the garden. The pavilion stood on pilings half the height of a man that kept it well off the slightly damp ground. Taniko was in there, probably being prepared for her first encounter with Prince Horigawa.
Silently Moko stepped down from the veranda of the women’s building, bringing the sword and scabbard. They bowed to each other as Jebu took the sword, and Moko turned away, wiping his eyes.
At the eastern gateway of the mansion a servant was holding Hollyhock for Jebu. He opened his travelling case to pack the samurai sword. Under the lid of the case there was a piece of folded, red-tinted paper. Jebu’s heartbeat speeded up. He opened the paper and read the poem in Taniko’s hand.
The autumn leaves fall,
But the pine tree’s green lives on.
In a spasm of anguish Jebu’s hand crushed the poem. He wanted neither poems nor pine trees. He wanted the living woman behind the Shima walls.
He smoothed out the poem, folded it again and tucked it into his tunic. He mounted Hollyhock, sadness weighing down his shoulders. He waved to Moko, who had followed him to the gate.
Slowly, feeling that he was riding away from life itself, he rode out of Heian Kyo.
Prince Sasaki no Horigawa made his first courtship visit to Taniko the very night of her arrival in Heian Kyo. Taniko’s Aunt Chogao warned her to expect him and helped her bathe and dress in her finest gown and jewels. She washed and combed the softly glowing black hair that hung to Taniko’s waist. All the while Taniko protested, trying not to cry and feeling as ill from the loss of Jebu as if one of her hands had been chopped off.
“I have been travelling for twenty days. I’m worn out. Can’t he give me one night to rest before he sees me?”
Aunt Chogao shrugged. “He told your uncle that he is extremely busy with matters of state. He is an Imperial adviser, don’t forget. Besides, he has waited a long time to meet you. You are lucky to have such an eager lover.”
Taniko made a face. Her aunt added, “Of course, he is lucky to get such a beautiful young woman. When he sees you, I’m sure he’ll be even more eager.”
How will I ever get through this? Taniko wondered. I was sickened before at the thought of spending the rest of my life with the old bloodsucker. But before I met Jebu, I never knew the kind of beauty that could exist between a man and a woman. Now that I do know, how can I give my life to something that is so much less?
For hours after she had dressed, Taniko, her aunt and the two maids waited for Horigawa’s visit. Taniko insisted on writing in her pillow book, despite her aunt’s protest that she might get ink stains on her fingers or her Chinese jacket. Taniko declared that she had never splashed ink on anything in her life. She offered to stop writing if her aunt would bring her a book to read, but the few books in the mansion, it seemed, were in Ryuichi’s quarters, and her uncle was not to be disturbed. So Taniko wrote by candlelight.
At last there was a commotion in the garden. Chogao scurried to the blinds and peered out. “It’s him. It’s him,” she whispered and waved the maids out of the room. She set a tall screen of state with flowered curtains in front of Taniko. For centuries it had been the custom at the capital for women of noble birth to remain concealed at all times from men other than their husbands or fathers. They received gentleman callers from behind portable screens of state. So significant a barrier was the screen of state that a man who got past it usually had no further difficulty in gaining his desire with the lady behind the screen.
Chogao snatched the pillow book out of Taniko’s hand and shoved it into the pillow drawer, seized the ink stone, ink stick and brush, and hurried out of the room.
“Pretend to be asleep,” came her voice through the sliding door.
There was a scratching outside on the veranda, and suddenly the blinds were raised and a short man with a powder-whitened face stepped into the room. His eyes stood out like two shiny black beans. He ducked his head to keep his tall black lacquered hat of office from being knocked askew.
Ignoring her aunt’s advice about feigning sleep, Taniko peered through the screen of state at her future husband. Prince Horigawa’s face was small and square, reminding Taniko of a grasshopper’s head. A wisp of black beard decorated his bony chin. He fanned himself briskly with a black and white fan, as if climbing into the room had been a great exertion.
“Are you back there?” he said, directing his dry, raspy voice at the screen of state. Yet he spoke only slightly above a whisper. Not very gallant language for a prince come courting, Taniko thought. The sight of him made her heart sink. He was as unattractive as she had imagined. In his beady eyes there was nothing but nastiness and calculation.
“I am here, Your Highness,” she said softly.
“Ah, very good, my dear. Let me join you behind your screen, where I can see you and make myself more comfortable.” Without waiting for her reply, he skipped around the screen, seating himself beside her and seizing her hand. She had to restrain herself from pulling free of his clawlike grip. Had her aunt left them alone together? Taniko wondered.
The prince patted her hand. “Do not be frightened by my impetuosity, my dear,” he whispered and grinned. At first it seemed to her that he was toothless, then she saw that his teeth had been dyed black in the Court manner. His grin faded as, still holding her hand tightly, he stared at her. Starting with her face and hair, his eyes travelled over her jacket and her many layers of skirts and dresses. He pursed his lips as he considered her selection of ornaments and her matching of colours.
“You appear to be as satisfactory as the matchmaker claimed,” he said. He gestured at a jar of sake Taniko’s aunt had left standing over a charcoal warmer, with two cups carefully placed on either side of it. Taniko poured sake, first for him, then for herself. Perhaps sake would help.
His cold fingertips scratched the nape of her neck. She could not help herself. She shuddered.
“The trapped bird trembles,” he murmured. He drew a deep breath and threw himself upon her.
Taniko gave a little shriek as he clawed at her jacket, his face reddening. He seemed almost frantic as he plunged his hands under her skirts, trying to undo his gold-splashed black robe at the same time. Taniko had seen sparrows mating, and this flurried, furious assault reminded her of that.
“Your Highness,” she gasped, out of breath. “This haste is inelegant.” Recalling one of her mother’s bedchamber books she added, “Permit me to unfold the pleasures of my body to you in more leisurely fashion, I beg you. To an inexperienced maiden, the charms of so handsome and distinguished a lord are irresistible, but do not press me so quickly.”
“Your notion of the arts of the bedchamber are countrified,” Horigawa panted. Inexorably he peeled away
Comments (0)