Heaven's Net Is Wide

by Hearn, Lian

  “Tell me about Maruyama,” Shigeru said.

  “It’s the last of the great Western domains to be inherited through the female line. The present ruler is Naomi; she’s seventeen and recently married. Her husband is a much older man closely connected to the Iida family. It seemed a strange alliance; there’s no doubt the Tohan hope to acquire the domain by marriage, stealth, or war.

  “Have you been there?” The West lay at least a week’s journey beyond Yamagata.

  “Yes, I have. I spent some time with my wife’s parents two or three years ago. The domain is rich: they trade with the mainland and mine copper and silver. They get two crops of rice a year—we are considered too far north for that, but I intend to try it myself. It was a pleasure to be there. I learned many new things, new ideas and methods.”

  “Did you meet Lady Naomi?” For some reason his interest was aroused in this girl, not much older than himself, who ruled and fought like a man.

  “Yes, indeed. My wife is from the Sugita family: her cousin Sugita Haruki is Lady Naomi’s senior retainer. My wife is the same age as Naomi’s mother and has known Naomi since she was born. In fact, my wife’s sister is Naomi’s closest companion. Lady Naomi is a remarkable young woman, intelligent and with great charm. I think my wife modeled our girls’ education on hers.”

  “They have benefited greatly from it,” Shigeru replied.

  “Well, they are only a pale copy of Lady Naomi, and many in the Middle Country think that I am a fool.” Eijiro tried to look modest, but his pride in his children could not be completely disguised. Shigeru liked him even more for it.

  That night they ate venison—mountain whale, Eijiro laughingly called it—for many country people added meat to their diet by hunting, though the teachings of the Enlightened One followed by the warrior class forbade the killing of four-footed animals for food.

  Shigeru was also given gifts—a small steel-bladed dagger, home-woven indigo garments, and barrels of rice wine to present to the temple.

  The following day, wanting to know his host better, he rose early and accompanied Eijiro on his morning inspection of the rice fields and vegetable gardens. He noticed how the older man spoke to the peasants, asking their advice and occasionally praising them. He noticed the exchange of respect between them.

  This is the way to treat men, he thought. They are bound to Eijiro by more than custom and rules. Attention and respect ensure their loyalty.

  He asked many questions about Eijiro’s methods, intrigued by the interlocking systems of fertilizing and cropping, observing how they followed the cycle of the seasons and enhanced the natural fertility of the land. Not an inch was wasted, yet the earth was always being replenished. The villagers he saw looked well fed; their children were healthy and happy.

  “Heaven must approve of your ways,” he said, back at the residence.

  Eijiro laughed. “Heaven sends many challenges: droughts, insects, floods, storms. But we know the land, we understand it. I think we are blessed by Earth as much as by Heaven. This has always been the Otori way,” he added quietly, glancing at Shigeru. “If Lord Shigeru wishes to know more about it, I have written a little on the subject . . .”

  His oldest son, Danjo, said, “A little! Father is too modest. Lord Shigeru could read for a year and not come to the end of Father’s writings.”

  “I would very much like to read them,” Shigeru replied. “But I fear I will have no time. We must ride on today.”

  “You must take some with you. You may be able to add them to your studies while you are at the temple. You are the heir to the clan. It is fitting that you know about the land.”

  Eijiro said no more, but he was frowning and his usually bluff, open expression was clouded. Shigeru imagined he heard the unspoken thoughts: that his father had no such interests; indeed the castle lands around Hagi were left entirely to officials to run. They were productive enough, he knew, but they did not look like Eijiro’s. Overmindful of his own position, introspective by nature, indulging in private grief and regret, his father had allowed himself to be cut off from the land that gave him that position. A fief is like a farm, Shigeru thought: Everyone in it has their place and their purpose, and all work together for the good of the whole. When the head of the farm is just and competent like Eijiro, everyone flourishes.

  He thought of his farm, the fief of the Middle Country, and felt pride and joy flood into his belly: it was his and he would cherish and protect it, like this beautiful valley. He would fight for it, not only with the sword in the way of the warrior but with Eijiro’s tools.

  Several scrolls of Eijiro’s writings were added to the boxes of gifts. Tadao and Masaji teased Shigeru about them.

  “You have the luck to study the sword with Shingen and you’d rather spend time reading about onions!” Masaji mocked.

  “Lord Eijiro can have my shit for his mulberry trees and pumpkins,” Tadao said, “but he’s not getting my brain too.”

  “His sons are skillful warriors as well as being farmers,” Shigeru said.

  “Skillful! They wield the bow more like a hoe. They fought like girls. It was so easy to beat them!” Tadao replied with arrogance.

  “Maybe because they train with their sisters,” Masaji added scornfully. “If all the Otori fight like them, we deserve to be overrun by the Tohan.”

  SHIGERU THOUGHT THIS was no more than a careless remark and he did not comment on it. However, it returned to him later, when they reached Tsuwano and were welcomed in the castle by the boys’ father, Lord Kitano. The contrast between the two families could hardly have been greater. Eijiro, being related to the clan lord’s family, was of higher rank than Kitano, but Kitano maintained a small castle and, like Shigeru’s father, delegated the running of his estates to officials. He was passionate about war, its conduct and strategy, and the appropriate training and upbringing for young men.

  The Kitano lived an austere, soldierly life. The food was simple, the living rooms uncomfortable, the mattresses thin. Despite the season of early summer, the castle interior was gloomy, the lower rooms dank, the upper rooms stiflingly hot in the middle of the day.

  Lord Kitano treated Shigeru with all the necessary deference, but the young man found his manner patronizing, his opinions rigid and old-fashioned. His sons, who had been so outspoken and lively in Hagi and on the journey, became silent, speaking only to agree with their father or to repeat to him some tenet they had learned from Ichiro or Endo.

  Lord Irie said very little, and drank, sparingly, his attention mainly on Shigeru and his needs. There was another guest present: an Otori vassal from the south of the Middle Country, Noguchi Masayoshi. During the evening’s conversation it transpired that Noguchi would accompany Kitano’s sons to Inuyama. Neither of the lords revealed much more about this plan, and the boys hid their surprise. Nothing had been said about it in Hagi, and Shigeru was sure his father had not known about it.

  “At Inuyama my sons will learn the art of real warfare,” Kitano said. “Iida Sadamu is gaining the reputation of being the greatest warrior of his generation.” He drank and glanced from under his heavy eyebrows at Irie. “Such knowledge can only benefit the clan.”

  “Presumably Lord Otori has been informed,” Irie said, though he must have known the contrary.

  “Letters have been sent,” Kitano said, a vague note creeping into his voice. Shigeru read his evasiveness and suspected he could not be trusted. He wondered about Noguchi Masayoshi too. Noguchi was in his early thirties, the eldest son of an Otori vassal family whose southern domain included the port of Hofu. It was in the South that the Otori were most vulnerable—less protected by the mountains, the South lay between the ambitious Iida family in Inuyama and the rich lands of the Seishuu in the West. It would be hard for Kitano to resist the Tohan if his sons were in Inuyama. They might as well be hostages. Shigeru felt anger beginning to simmer in his belly. If the man was not a traitor, he was a fool. Was it up to him to forbid expressly such a rash decision? If he
advised against it, and Kitano disobeyed him, it would bring out into the open divisions that could only lead to strife within the clan—maybe even to civil war. He had been surrounded all his life by loyalty; it underpinned the whole structure of the warrior class—the Otori prided themselves on the unswerving loyalty that bound all the ranks to one another and to the head of their clan. He had been aware of his father’s weaknesses but had not realized how these were viewed by men such as Kitano and Noguchi, who had their own ambitions.

  He tried to find an opportunity to speak to Irie about his misgivings. It was not easy, for they were always accompanied by Kitano or his retainers. Before they retired, he said he would like to walk outside for a while, to enjoy the night air and the waxing moon, and asked Irie to accompany him. They were led from the castle to the battlements, huge stone walls that rose from the moat where the moon’s silver disc was reflected in the black still water. Occasionally there was a splash as a fish surfaced or a water rat dived. Guards were stationed at each right-angled turn of the walls and above the bridge that led from the castle to the town, but they were relaxed. Tsuwano had been at peace for years; there was no threat of invasion or attack. The idle chat of the guards, the tranquil night, the moon above the sleeping town did not allay Shigeru’s fears. He duly admired the moon and the battlements, but there was no way of seeking his teacher’s advice discreetly. When they retired, Shigeru told the servants to leave them alone. He sent Irie to make sure no one lingered outside to eavesdrop—no maids, servants, or guards. He remembered his father’s words . . . If Kitano were in contact with the Tohan, might he not use the same spies from the Tribe?

  When Irie returned and he felt safe, he said quietly, “Should I prevent them from going to Inuyama?”

  “I believe you should,” Irie replied, equally softly. “And strongly. There must be no doubt about your wishes. I do not believe Kitano will defy you openly. If there is any treachery smoldering, we will contain it early. You must speak to him in the morning.”

  “Should I have spoken at once?”

  “You were right to ask advice first,” Irie responded. “It is usually better to proceed slowly and with patience. But there are times when one has to act decisively. Wisdom is knowing which course to pursue and when.”

  “My instincts were to forbid it at once,” Shigeru murmured. “I must confess, I was astonished.”

  “I was too,” Irie said. “I am sure your father does not know.”

  Shigeru slept restlessly and woke angry with Kitano, with the boys he had thought were friends, and with himself for not acting immediately.

  His anger grew when his request to speak to Lord Kitano was delayed. By the time the lord’s arrival was announced, he felt insulted and deceived. He cut short the customary courtesies by saying abruptly, “Your sons must not go to Inuyama. It cannot be in the best interest of the clan.”

  He saw Kitano’s eyes harden and realized the temper of the man he was dealing with—ambitious, strong-willed, deceitful.

  “Forgive me, Lord Shigeru, they have already left.”

  “Then send horsemen after them and bring them back.”

  “They set out last night with Lord Noguchi,” Kitano said blandly. “Since the rains will commence any day now, it was thought . . .”

  “You sent them out because you knew I would forbid it,” Shigeru said angrily. “How dare you spy on me?”

  ‘’What can Lord Shigeru be talking about? There was no spying. It was a longstanding arrangement, to take advantage of the waxing moon. If your lordship had objections, you should have made them known last night.”

  “I will not forget this,” Shigeru said, fighting to master his rage.

  “You are young, Lord Shigeru, and—forgive me—inexperienced. You are yet to learn the art of statecraft.”

  His rage exploded. “Better to be young and inexperienced than old and treacherous! And why has Noguchi gone to Inuyama? What are you plotting between you with the Iida?”

  “You accuse me, in my own castle, of plotting?” Kitano let his rage rise in response, but Shigeru was not intimidated.

  “Do I need to remind you that I am the heir to the clan?” he replied. “You will send messengers to Inuyama to demand the return of your sons, and you will not conduct any negotiations or other dealings with the Tohan without the knowledge and consent of my father and myself. You may give the same message to Noguchi. I will leave at once for Terayama. Lord Irie will return to Hagi as soon as possible after my arrival there, and my father will be informed. But first I expect you to reaffirm your pledges of loyalty to myself and to the Otori clan. I am displeased, affronted by your behavior. I think my father would be too. I expect your complete loyalty from now on; if my wishes are not complied with, if there are any further such lapses, you and your family will face punishment.”

  His words sounded weak in his own ears. If Kitano or Noguchi defected to the Tohan, they could not be stopped except by resorting to war. He could see that the rebuke had struck home: Kitano’s eyes were smoldering.

  I have made an enemy, Shigeru thought as the older man prostrated himself, swearing loyalty and obedience and asking forgiveness. All this is a deception. Both his penitence and his loyalty are feigned.

  “HOW DID KITANO know my decision?” he asked Irie as they left Tsuwano an hour later.

  “He may have guessed it; he may have set spies on us last night.”

  “How dare he!” Shigeru felt the rage rise in him again. “He should be forced to slit his belly; his lands should be seized. But you yourself checked that we were not overheard.” The thought came to him fleetingly that Irie also was not to be trusted, but glancing at the warrior’s honest face, he put it from him. He did not believe Irie Masahide would ever entertain even the slightest thought of treachery against his clan. Most of the Otori would be like him, surely? But I must not be too trusting, he told himself. Even though I am inexperienced.

  “He may use Tribe spies with their acute hearing,” Irie said.

  “No one could have heard us—”

  “No one normal,” Irie said. “But the Tribe have powers that go beyond normal.”

  “Then what defense do we have against them?”

  “It is cowardly to use them,” Irie said bitterly. “No true warrior would stoop to such methods. We should trust in our strength, in the horse and the sword. This is the way of the Otori!”

  But if our enemies use them, what alternative do we have? Shigeru wondered.

  8

  Proving that Kitano’s fears about the onset of the plum rains were fabricated, the weather stayed fine and mild. Shigeru put aside his anger and unease to enjoy the pleasures of the journey. It took only three days to reach Yamagata, where he was received rapturously. He knew the town and its castle well, having often stayed there with his father. Every year in the autumn, the seat of government was moved from Hagi to Yamagata for three months, returning to winter in Hagi. Yamagata lay on the high road to Inuyama; it was as important for trade as it was for defense, and it was within easy reach of the most sacred place in the Middle Country—the temple at Terayama, where the worship of the Enlightened One took place alongside an ancient shrine where the older gods of the forest and mountain were honored. Here were the tombs of Shigeru’s ancestors: almost all of them buried here, the rare exceptions lying at the temple of Daishoin in Hagi.

  The Otori loved Hagi for the beauty of its setting, for the islands that surrounded it, for its twin rivers; but they loved Yamagata for its closeness to Terayama and, more mundanely, for its inns and drinking places, its hot springs and beautiful women.

  Not that Shigeru had any dealings with the women, though his eye was drawn to them constantly. Irie was somewhat ascetic by nature, believing in discipline and self-restraint, and Shigeru was influenced sufficiently by this and by his father’s disclosures to try to master his own desires.