The salutation of the letter was to Abe no Ginjo, the chief of the Abe clan. The clan which—for that past year—the governor of Mutsu Province had been charged to subdue without much success. Prince Kanemore could say a thing or two about the intensity of the fighting there. Granted, seventeen years ago that branch of the Abe had been simply a border clan, who were granted their lands solely for the purpose of containing the Emishi barbarians in their strongholds north of Izawa and Shiba, where Sakanouye Tamuramarou had first driven them two hundred years before. It was only recently that the Abe Clan had begun to ignore or circumvent the will of the Emperor. It was not in open rebellion yet, but I knew Kanemore and others fully expected the current hostilities to escalate.
Sentaro’s close ties to the Abe of the time was questionable but not suspicious. If that had been all there was to the letter, I would have dismissed it out of hand.
Curious.
“Well?” Lady Snow asked.
“Where did you get this?”
“I can’t tell you, precisely. Yet it clearly shows that Yamada no Seburo was the victim of a conspiracy.”
I grunted. “One could as easily argue my father planned to form an alliance with this ‘barbarian prince’ mentioned in the letter, and that Lord Sentaro got wind of it and laid a trap for him with the aid of the provincial governor. That reading makes just as much sense as yours. Perhaps more.”
To my surprise, she smiled. “I admit you are right in every point. So why are you troubled, Lord Yamada? Why do you hesitate? Shall I tell you? It’s because there is something present in that letter that makes no sense to you.”
She knew. Of course, she would know, if the entire letter was a fabrication. Common sense said as much. Yet, if so, it was a fabrication well-chosen to intrigue me, and I had to admit it had done so; I did not understand why anyone would go to so much trouble.
“Actually, there are two things. The first that does not make sense is the chief of the barbarians would co-operate to reveal a spy in his own enemies’ camp.”
“What is the second?”
“That my father was taken at Izawa barrier. I had thought he was taken at Chiba, since that is where he was executed.”
“I do not know. I only know this letter is an exact copy of one Lord Sentaro wrote. I also know that, just before the incident, he wrote another letter. To your father.”
That stopped me. I was in the Imperial University when my father had been executed, and in one of my father’s infrequent letters a few weeks prior he had mentioned an important letter from Lord Sentaro, though not the contents. He seemed quite pleased about it, and hinted of good things to come—though I was strictly ordered not to mention it to anyone else, which I had not. I never knew the nature of Sentaro’s letter, and had pretty much forgotten about it, until Lady Snow refreshed my memory. Yet this was something she could not possibly know, unless . . .
“Are you saying you’ve seen a copy of Sentaro’s letter?”
“No. I have seen the actual letter. It was part of your father’s effects that were seized during his arrest, and these items were kept together. The letter had been resealed so I could not read it. Yet perhaps, if you were with me, we might be bolder?”
“You’re speaking of an archive. Any such would be here in the city.”
She smiled again. “It may not surprise you to learn that Lord Sentaro kept documentation of his many activities. These are not part of the official record, and they most certainly are not in the city.”
“How did you find this?”
“From the time I learned Kiyoshi had been murdered I knew who my enemy was, Lord Yamada. I’ve made it my mission to learn everything about him that could be learned by one such as myself.”
That rang true enough, as did the existence of such an archive in the first place. Someone like Sentaro no doubt had many dealings he would want to reference at need but certainly not keep part of the official record. Yet this would be a personal archive, well hidden and secret for obvious reasons. I started to ask how Lady Snow had gained access, but realized she had already told me how, at least in broad strokes. The details didn’t really matter.
I’ve made it my mission.
She looked at me, her face expressionless. “I cannot tell you where the archive is, Lord Yamada. Forgive me, but not unlike Lord Sentaro I, too, have secrets to keep and confidences to protect. However, if you are willing I can take you there.”
“I will need some time to think about this.”
She covered her smile with her fan. “Certainly no one can accuse you of rashness. Or is there another obligation?”
“I will be making a pilgrimage to Enryaku-ji in the next few days. Even if I were to agree, I cannot possibly accompany you anywhere until I return.”
She bowed again. “Would this have anything to do with the delegation from Imperial Court?”
I frowned. “I should ask how you know about that.”
“If you consider for a moment, I am sure an answer will present itself,” she said. “Still, it is fortunate you have friends in such high circumstances, including one of the heirs to the Imperial Throne. That could prove useful to you in getting justice, once you have the proof you require.”
“ ‘Heirs’? Takahito is crown prince. To whom are you referring?”
She looked puzzled. “Why, Prince Kanemore, of course. He is second in line for the succession. Forgive my impertinence, but your recent association with him is well known.”
“Kanemore is not in line for the throne at all, except in the sense that every member of the extended Royal Family could be termed so. If anything, the gods forbid, happened to Prince Takahito, Norihira is next in line, and there are two other Fujiwara princes in the direct line after him.”
She bowed low. “Perhaps I am mistaken,” she said. “But I had heard His Majesty’s intentions were otherwise.”
“I am sure that you are,” I said.
She bowed again. “Such lofty matters are outside my scope of concern, of course. It was foolish of me to mention what are surely no more than rumors.”
“It’s nothing. Please consider the matter closed.”
I’d have liked to have done the same, but if this was an actual rumor it was one I had not heard. I wondered if Kanemore had. It was something we perhaps should discuss along the road to Enryaku-ji.
“You have not yet told me ‘no,’ Lord Yamada. May I take that as a sign of hope? Will you seriously consider my proposal?”
“I am considering it,” I said. “But that is all I can promise at the present time.”
She smiled a little wistfully then and didn’t bother covering her mouth. “You must be weary of me, Lord Yamada. This silly woman with all these stories of things that happened long ago and should not matter to anyone now. Still, they do matter to me. I had hoped they would matter to you.”
“Nothing can restore my family to what it was,” I said again. I was beginning to feel the phrase had become some sort of mantra. “If your evidence was above refutation, I would still refuse to have any illusions in that regard. That is not to say I am uninterested in the idea of justice.”
“Whereas justice is all that interests me, Lord Yamada. If the blame for this is laid at Lord Sentaro’s feet as it should be, Kiyoshi will still be dead. The life I wanted, the life I could have had by his side is less than a dream now. Youth fades, and I cannot be an asobi for very much longer; my options will rapidly dwindle. At best I will become the wife of some fat merchant, else I must become a nun and beg my rice at the side of the road. But while I have the means and the strength, poor though either may be, I will continue to seek justice for Kiyoshi. It’s foolish, perhaps, but there it is. Refuse me and I will continue.”
“Why?”
“To answer that, I must ask you a question first: have you ever been in love, Lord Yamada?”
I answered even before I thought about it. “Yes,” I said.
“Who was she, if I may be so impolite?”
“Her name
does not matter. Suffice to say she was a woman of higher station than my own, and in most other regards my superior as well. Our lives took different paths.”
“Did she love you?”
Such a simple question, the answer to which I expected would crush me like a worn-out cicada shell underfoot. “I thought so at the time. I will probably never know, yet I must face the possibility I was wrong.”
“Forgive me, but can you not ask her? Surely she will accept a letter.”
“She is deceased.”
Lady Snow reached out and touched my hand. It was the first time I had felt the warmth of her, and it had been a much longer time since I felt the warmth of anyone.
“Then you know what it is like, to lose what you hoped to hold forever. Perhaps you can at least understand why I do what I do. We are not so very different, Lord Yamada.”
“No.”
There followed a silence. Not really awkward, nor one needing to be filled; rather, an expectant silence. A waiting silence.
I got to my feet. Lady Snow did not move. She merely looked up at me patiently as I said foolish and self-evident things. “It is very late, and I have a long way to go tomorrow. I have greatly enjoyed your company, but I must leave now.”
She looked at the floor. “It’s really not so wise to go out in the city at this hour. The demons would get you. I do not want that on my conscience.”
“The demons and I are old friends, Lady Snow.”
“Then show pity on me, for I would never forgive myself should anything befall you before you reached your destination.”
Of course this wasn’t about demons or ghosts or anything else now stalking through or flitting about the streets of the city. I could be incredibly thick at times and the first to confess it, but even I understood Lady Snow’s meaning.
I let out one long, slow breath even as I called myself the worst kind of fool. “I would not wish to cause you any distress.”
My common sense told me this was simply another method of barter, offering what she had to give for something she wanted. It was this knowledge that almost allowed me to walk out the door, but in the end I chose to stay. I was not seduced, or beguiled . . . well, perhaps a little. Yet I knew I had a choice just as Lady Snow did, for I was not, like some, a man to use force to get what he wanted. We both chose that I stay. I could not see the good in it, and I was sure I would regret the night’s lodging, but my choice did not alter.
“I must be away before dawn,” I said.
“Of course. I will see to it,” Lady Snow said, and she slowly got to her feet, not looking at me. I followed the elegant Lady Snow to her own chamber, wondering all the while if the face she kept turned from me showed pleasure or disappointment, something else, or anything at all; it was not the last time I wondered, through the dark of that night. All I could do was wonder since, as in so many things, I could never know for certain.
Lady Snow had one peculiarity, if one could call it that—she was very careful with her hair, meticulous to keep it out of her way or out of my hands. She was careful of nothing else, either of herself or of me, and for a while all my wondering ceased.
The false glow before dawn came all too early, but Lady Snow was as good as her word, and I was ready and waiting at the Demon Gate when Prince Kanemore’s delegation arrived. It consisted of four bushi wearing Taira colors, and two nuns ably handling an oxcart where, I presumed, the offering to Enryaku-ji was stored.
“Walk with me, Lord Yamada.”
“As His Highness wishes.”
I bowed formally to Kanemore and fell into step beside him as we left the city on the road to the temple. The escort bushi were keeping a respectful distance, and I kept my voice soft.
“I left my sword behind as you requested, but you do realize I have a dagger up my sleeve?”
Kanemore grunted. “Certainly, but if you let anyone else see it, I’ll chase you back to the city myself. Understood?”
“Completely.”
“Besides,” he said, “it’s really not necessary. You will see.”
I almost grinned. “I look forward to it.”
Kanemore glanced at me. “Are you well?”
“I feel very well, and thank you for asking. Though I’m curious as to why you felt the need.”
Kanemore frowned. “You just seem to be in a rather good humor, for you. No offense intended.”
I almost smiled then, remembering the reason for that good humor. Then I remembered some of the matters that needed addressing on this trip and lost most of the good feeling in an instant. I just shrugged.
“No reason. It is a beautiful day, is it not?”
It was. The sky was clear blue with snow-white clouds, without even a hint of rain or darkness. Probably one of the few such days that remained before the haze and smoke of summer asserted itself around the city. I just hoped this haze would not be overly enhanced by the funeral fires of Mount Toribe. Yet the city and its ghosts had been quiet since the night the weaver’s wife had been taken.
I did not want to ask the questions I needed to ask, but there would not likely be a better time.
“Prince Kanemore, I realize this is an unpleasant subject, but do you remember where my father was executed?”
He frowned. “Near the barrier at Chiba, I believe.”
“Yet wasn’t he taken at Izawa?”
“Please recall I wasn’t actually present, but yes as I understand it he was. I believe there was another incursion near the barrier at Chiba that had to be dealt with before the formality . . . well, the sentencing of your unfortunate father.”
So that part of the letter Lady Snow had shown me was accurate. So far everything that could be verified had been verified. Again, not proof, but there could not have been very many people who knew these details. That left the question I dreaded even more.
“Prince Kanemore, forgive me for asking, but what is your rank in the current order of succession?”
Prince Kanemore broke stride but quickly recovered. At that point I was fairly sure I already had my answer.
“May I ask what prompted this question?” Kanemore asked. He sounded unsteady.
“I have heard a rumor that you have been placed next in line after Takahito. Even before Prince Norihira.”
“Palace gossip,” he said, and I smiled. One of the things I most respected about Prince Kanemore was he was a very bad liar.
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
He looked unhappy but did not dissemble further. “Yes. Though how you found out is beyond me. Very few people are supposed to know this. Yourself, no offense intended, not included.”
“Who did know?”
“Well . . . His Majesty, of course, since this was his idea. Chancellor Yorimichi and the former Minister of Justice.”
“Lord Sentaro? Why was he told rather than the Minister of the Right? He outranks Lord Sentaro.”
Kanemore looked grim. “It wasn’t his rank that awarded Lord Sentaro that dubious honor. His Majesty wanted to make very sure Lord Sentaro knew, after that . . . business, of my late sister.”
“In other words he wanted it clear that, if something ‘unforseen’ were to happen to Takahito, then Norihira would not ascend?”
“His Majesty was even more blunt: if Prince Takahito should be assassinated, then none of the Fujiwara heirs would ascend, including Norihira.”
“What if Takahito, the gods forbid, should die of disease or something other than poison or obvious physical violence?”
“Then the throne goes to Norihira. And yes, as I’m sure you were about to point out, if I wanted the throne, the easiest way to take it would be to have my own nephew murdered. And since I do not want the throne, any failure to protect my nephew becomes a double blow, because of course I would be suspected. The irony of this situation has not escaped me.”
I frowned. “You can be sure I will not speak of this and let any other such rumors lie where they fall. I do think the Emperor was wise to take this course
, though I understand his decision has placed you in an uncomfortable position.”
“To say the very least, Lord Yamada. It is only part of what I must endure to carry out my sister’s wishes.”
Neither of us said anything for a time. I did not know Kanemore’s thoughts, but mine were racing off in a hundred directions at once. One thing and perhaps one thing only was clear enough—Lady Snow’s information had been accurate about the order of succession. Incomplete, certainly, but accurate. Perhaps her information was accurate in other regards as well.
If I had correctly interpreted my father’s hints and instructions, Lord Sentaro’s letter and its contents were meant to be secret and had remained so for seventeen years. Whatever the nature of the letter might be, how could Lady Snow have even known of the letter’s existence if she had not seen it as she claimed?
I still did not fully trust Lady Snow, and yet I realized I wanted to. As much as I had argued with her, and with Kenji and with myself, and for all that I knew was possible and not possible, I wanted what she told me to be the truth. I wanted there to be a possibility of proof, a chance to restore my family’s honor; for my own sake and that of my foolish father.
Even for, perhaps one day, a household of my own?
It was not wrong to want those things, I knew. Just foolish. And very, very dangerous.
Our progress was slow, and Mount Hiei did not appear any closer by the time our group stopped for the midday meal. Lady Snow had thoughtfully prepared food for me and packed it in a black lacquer box, and I ate with Prince Kanemore.
I looked up once to find him regarding the box with some curiosity.
“That meal was prepared by a woman, and I do not think that woman was Mistress Tamahara.”
“I never claimed to be a monk, Highness.”
Kanemore grunted. “You never had to. Honestly, I’ve known monks who have lived less celibate lives. I confess I’ve been curious about that.”
This was an area I definitely did not want Prince Kanemore to be curious about. As for the existence of Lady Snow, she might be just the distraction I needed, and yet I did not want to tell him about her. At least, not yet. Not until I knew more than I did at present.
Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate Page 16
