The Harsh Cry of the Heron

by Lian Hearn

  “YOU WILL MAKE an excellent spy!” Sada exclaimed after their first night on the ship, when Maya recounted the gossip she had overheard the day before—nothing sinister or dangerous, just individuals’ secrets that they might have preferred to remain unknown to the wide world.

  “I would rather be a spy than have to get married to some lord,” Maya replied. “I want to be like you, or like Shizuka used to be.”

  She gazed across the white-flecked water toward the East, where the city of Hagi already lay lost in the distance. Oshima also lay far behind them, only the clouds above the island volcano visible. They had passed it during the night, to Maya’s regret, for she had heard many stories of the pirates’ former stronghold and her father’s visit to Lord Terada, and she wanted to see it for herself, but the ship could not afford any delay—the northeasterly wind would not hold for many more days, and they needed it to drive them to the coast of the West.

  “Shizuka used to do whatever she pleased,” Maya went on. “But then she got married to Dr. Ishida, and now she’s just like any other wife.”

  Sada laughed. “Don’t underestimate Muto Shizuka! She has always been so much more than she seems.”

  “She is Sunaomi’s grandmother too,” Maya grumbled.

  “You are jealous, Maya; that’s your trouble!”

  “It’s so unfair,” the girl said. “If only I were a boy, it wouldn’t matter if I were a twin. If I were a boy, Sunaomi would never have come to live with us, and Father would not be thinking of adopting him!” And I would never have thought of daring the little coward to go to the shrine. She looked at Sada. “Didn’t you ever wish you were a man?”

  “Yes, often, when I was a child. Even in the Tribe, where women have great freedom, boys seem to be valued more. I always set myself against them, always strove to beat them. Muto Kenji used to say that explained why I grew as tall and as strong as a man. He taught me to copy boys, use their speech, and ape their gestures. Now I can be either man or woman, and that’s the way I like it.”

  “He taught us the same!” Maya exclaimed, for like all the Tribe children she had learned both men’s and women’s language and gestures, and could pass as either.

  Sada studied her. “Yes, you could become a boy.”

  “Really, I am not sorry to be sent away,” Maya confided in her. “Because I like you—and I love Taku!”

  “Everyone loves Taku.” Sada laughed.

  But Maya had no opportunity to pick up more of the enticing, almost incomprehensible language of the sailors—some of them hardly older than she was—for the swell picked up, and to her annoyance she discovered she was not a good sailor. The dip and rise of the ship made her head ache and her body feel unbearable to her. Sada cared for her without fussing or words of sympathy, held her head while she vomited and sponged her face afterward, making her take tiny sips of tea to wet her lips, and, when the most violent phase had passed, laid her down and took her head on her lap, holding her long, cool hand against Maya’s brow. Sada thought she could feel, just beneath the skin, the animal nature like a pelt, dark, solid, and heavy yet soft to the touch, calling out to be caressed. Maya experienced the touch as that of a nurse or a mother. She woke from the sickness when the ship rounded the cape just as the winds changed and the westerly came up to bring them to shore, and gazed at Sada’s sharp face, with its high cheekbones like a boy’s, and thought it would be happiness to lie forever in her arms, and felt her whole body stir in response. In that moment a passion came over her for the older girl, a combination of admiration and need—it was her first experience of love. She stretched against Sada, folded her arms around her, feeling the strong muscles like a man’s, the surprising softness of the breasts. She nuzzled into the neck, half childlike, half animal-like.

  “I take it this affection means you’re feeling better?” Sada said, hugging her back.

  “A little. It was awful. I will never go in a ship again!” She paused and then said, “Do you love me, Sada?”

  “What sort of question is that?”

  “I dreamed you did. But I’m never sure if it’s me dreaming, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or the cat.”

  “What sort of dreams does the cat have?” Sada asked idly.

  “Animal dreams.” Maya was gazing at the distant shore, the pine-topped cliffs that rose abruptly from the dark blue water, the black rocks fringed with gray-green and white waves. Within the bay, where the surface was calmer, and up into the estuary, wooden racks supported seaweed and shallow-hulled fishing boats were pulled up on the sand, where sea grass grew in tussocks. Men crouched on the shore, mending nets and keeping the fires lit that forced salt from seawater.

  “I don’t know about loving you,” Sada teased. “But I do love the cat!” She reached out and rubbed Maya’s neck as if she were petting a cat, and the girl’s back arched in pleasure. Again Sada thought she could almost feel the fur under her fingers.

  “If you keep doing that, I think I will turn into the cat,” Maya said dreamily.

  “I’m sure that will come in useful.” Sada’s tone was matter of fact and practical. Maya grinned. “That’s why I love the Tribe,” she said. “They don’t mind if I’m a twin, or if the cat is possessing me. Whatever is useful to them is good. That’s how I think. I’m never going to go back to life in a palace, or a castle. I’m going to stay with the Tribe.”

  “We’ll see what Taku has to say about that!”

  Maya knew Taku was the strictest of teachers and quite lacking in sentimentality, but she feared he would be swayed by his duty to her father and would therefore be inclined to treat her with favoritism. She did not know which would be worse—to be accepted by Taku only because she was an Otori daughter, or to be rejected by him as not being skillful enough. One moment she found herself thinking he would send her away, unable to help her; the next that he would be amazed by all she could do and all her potential. In the end his reception of her would be something between the two—not quite disappointing, but not overwhelming or flattering, either.

  The sandy estuary was too shallow for their ship to enter, and they were lowered down on ropes to the flimsy fishing boats. The boats were narrow and unstable; the boatman laughed as Maya grabbed the gunwale, and tried to engage Sada in bawdy conversation as he poled them upstream toward the city of Maruyama.

  The castle stood on a small hill above the river and the town that had spread around it. It was small and beautiful, white-walled and gray-roofed, looking in some way birdlike, as if it had just come to rest, its wings still spread, the setting sun tinging them pink. Maya knew it well and had often stayed there with her mother and sisters, but today it was not her destination. She kept her eyes lowered and spoke to no one, already half-consciously able to dissemble her features so no one would recognize her. Sada addressed her roughly from time to time, scolding her for dawdling, telling her not to scuffle her feet in the dirt. Maya answered her meekly, yes older sister, of course older sister, walking without complaining, though it was a long way and the bundle was heavy, and it was nearly dark by the time they came to a long, low house that extended all the way round the corner of the street. Its windows were barred with wooden slats, and its low tiled roof extended out in deep eaves. One side was a shop front, now closed and silent. Set into the other wall was a huge gate. Two men stood outside, armed with swords, each holding a long, curved spear.

  Sada addressed one of them. “Are you expecting an invasion, cousin?”

  “Here’s trouble,” he replied. “What are you doing? And who’s the kid?”

  “My little sister, you remember her?”

  “That’s never Mai!”

  “No, not Mai, Maya. Let us in. I’ll tell you all about it later. Is Taku in Maruyama?” she added as the gate was unbarred and they slipped inside.

  “Yes, he came a few days ago. Very grand, too, and in elevated company. He is with Lord Kono, from Miyako, and Lord Sugita is entertaining them both. He hasn’t
dropped in like he usually does. We’ll let him know you and your sister are here.”

  “Do they know who I am?” Maya whispered as Sada led her through the darkened garden to the entrance.

  “They know. But they also know it is not their business to know, so they will say nothing to anyone.”

  She imagined how it would be, a man—perhaps a woman—in the guise of a soldier, a guard, or a servant. They would approach Taku casually, with some comment about a horse or a meal, and add a seemingly random sentence, and then Taku would know…

  “What will they call me?” she said to Sada, stepping lightly onto the veranda.

  “Call you? Who?”

  “What is my secret name that only the Tribe know?”

  Sada laughed almost soundlessly. “They will make something up. The Kitten, perhaps.” The Kitten came back tonight. Maya could almost hear the maid’s voice—she had decided it would be a woman—whisper in Taku’s ear as she bent to wash his feet, or poured wine for him, and then…what would Taku do then?

  She felt a slight touch of apprehension—whatever happened was not going to be easy.

  She had to wait two days. She did not have time to be bored or anxious, for Sada kept her busy with the Tribe training that has no end, for the skills of the Tribe can always be improved, and no one, not even Muto Kenji or Kikuta Kotaro, has ever mastered them completely. And Maya was only a child—years lay ahead of her, standing motionless for long periods, stretching and folding her limbs to keep them completely supple, memory and observation training, the speed of movement that leads to invisibility and the command of the second self. Maya submitted to the discipline uncomplainingly, for she had decided that she loved Sada without reserve, and strove to please her.

  At the end of the second day, after night had fallen and they had finished eating, Sada beckoned to Maya, who was gathering up the bowls and placing them on trays—for here she was no longer Lord Otori’s daughter but the youngest girl in the household, and hence servant to everyone. She finished her task, carrying the trays to the kitchen, and then stepped outside onto the veranda. At the farther end, Sada stood holding a lamp. Maya could see Taku’s face, half-lit, half in darkness.

  She approached and dropped to her knees before him, but not before she had quickly studied what she could see of his face. He looked tired, his expression strained, even annoyed. Her heart sank.

  “Lord Taku,” she whispered.

  He frowned more deeply, and made a gesture to Sada to bring the lamp closer. Maya felt the heat on her cheek, and closed her eyes briefly. The flame flickered behind her darkened lids.

  “Look at me,” Taku said.

  His eyes, black, opaque, stared directly into hers. She held his gaze without blinking, making her mind go blank, not allowing anything to surface that might reveal her weaknesses to him, and at the same time not daring to search for his. But she could not foil him completely—she felt as if some beam of light, or of thought, had penetrated her, had seen a secret she had not known she held.

  “Unnh,” Taku grunted, but Maya could not tell if it was in approval or surprise. “Why has your father sent you to me?”

  “He thinks I am possessed by a cat spirit,” she said quietly. “He thought Kenji might have passed some of the Tribe’s knowledge of these things on to you.”

  “Show me.”

  “I don’t want to,” she said.

  “Let me see this cat spirit, if it is there.” His voice was skeptical and dismissive. Maya responded with a flash of anger. It ran through her body, direct and non-human, making her limbs soften and stretch, rippling her coat; her ears flattened and she showed her teeth, prepared to spring.

  “Enough,” Taku said quietly, and touched her lightly on the cheek. The animal self subsided, and purred.

  “You didn’t believe me,” Maya said blankly. She was shivering.

  “If I didn’t before, I do now,” he replied. “Very interesting. And I daresay useful. The question is, just how shall we use you best? Have you ever taken on its form completely?”

  “Once,” she admitted. “I followed Sunaomi to Akane’s shrine and watched him wet himself!”

  Taku heard something beneath the bravado. “And?” he questioned.

  Maya did not answer for a few moments; then she muttered, “I don’t want to do it again! I don’t like the feeling.”

  “Whether you like it or not has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Don’t waste my time. You must promise that you will do only what Sada or I tell you, no going off on your own, no risks, no secrets from us.”

  “I swear it.”

  “It’s not a good time for all this,” Taku said with some irritation to Sada. “I’m trying to keep Kono under control, and watch my brother’s activities in case he makes any unexpected move. Still, if Takeo has requested it, I suppose I’d better keep her near me. You can come to the castle with me tomorrow. Dress her as a boy, but live here. You can be what you please, but she must live as a girl here. Most of the household already know who she is; she must be protected as far as possible as Lord Otori’s daughter. I’ll warn Hiroshi. Will anyone else recognize you?”

  “No one ever looks at me directly,” Maya told him. “Because I am a twin.”

  “Twins are rather special to the Tribe,” he said. “But where’s your sister?”

  “She stayed in Hagi. She will go to Kagemura soon.” Maya felt a sudden pang of longing for Miki, for Shigeko and her parents. I am here like an orphan, she thought, or an exile. Maybe I’ll be like Father, discovered in a remote village, with more talent than anyone else in the Tribe.

  “Now go to bed,” Taku told her abruptly. “There are things I have to discuss with Sada.”

  “Master.” Maya bowed submissively to him and bade them both good night. No sooner had she reentered the house than one of the maids seized her and sent her off to prepare the bedding. She unfolded the mats and spread the quilts, walking softly through the long, low rooms of the house. The wind had risen and whistled through all the cracks, autumn in its mouth, but Maya did not feel the cold. She was listening all the time to the muffled words from the garden. They had told her to go to bed and she had obeyed them, but they had not forbidden her to listen.

  She had her father’s acute hearing, and all year it had been growing more sensitive and more finely attuned. When she at last lay down, she set her ears, trying to filter out the whispering of the girls who lay on either side of her. Gradually they fell silent, their low voices replaced by the last of the summer insects, bewailing the coming cold and their own deaths. She heard the hushed, feathery beat of the owl’s wings as it floated through the garden, and breathed out almost inaudibly. Moonlight threw a latticed pattern on the paper screens; the moon tugged at her blood, making it race through her veins.

  In the distance Taku said, “I brought Kono here that he might see the loyalty in Maruyama to the Otori. I’m afraid Zenko has let him believe that the Seishuu are on the verge of seceding once more, and that the West will not stand by Takeo.”

  “Surely Hiroshi is completely trustworthy?” Sada murmured.

  “If he is not, I might as well cut my own throat,” Taku said.

  Sada laughed. “You would never take your own life, cousin.”

  “I hope I never have to. I might be forced to it out of sheer boredom if I have to put up with Lord Kono for much longer.”

  “Maya will be a welcome distraction, if it is boredom you fear.”

  “Or another responsibility that I could well do without!”

  “What startled you when you looked in her eyes?”

  “I was expecting a girl. What I saw was nothing like a girl—it is something unformed, waiting to find its shape.”

  “Is it a male spirit, or something to do with the cat possession?”

  “I really have no idea. It seemed different. She is unique—probably very powerful.”

  “And dangerous?”

  “Probably. To herself more than anything.”
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br />   “You are tired.” A note came into Sada’s voice that made Maya shiver with a mixture of longing and jealousy.

  Sada said, even more quietly, “Here, I will massage your brow.”

  There was a moment of silence. Maya held her breath. Taku let out a deep sigh. Some kind of intensity had fallen on the darkened garden, on the unseen couple. She could not bear to listen anymore, and pulled the quilt over her head.

  A long time later, it seemed, she heard their footsteps on the veranda. Taku said in a low voice, “I did not expect that!”

  “We grew up together,” Sada replied. “It need not mean anything.”

  “Sada, nothing between us can be meaningless.” He paused as if he would say more, but then said briefly, “I will see you and Maya tomorrow. Bring her to the castle at midday.”

  Sada came quietly into the room and lay down next to Maya. Pretending to be asleep, Maya rolled against her, breathing in her smell, mingled with Taku’s, still on her. She could not decide which one she loved the most—she wanted to embrace them both. At that moment she felt herself theirs for life.

  THE NEXT DAY, Sada woke her early and set about cutting her long hair to shoulder length and then pulling it back into a topknot, leaving the forehead unshaven, like a young boy not yet of age.

  “You are not a pretty girl,” she said, laughing. “But you make a very nice-looking boy. Scowl a bit more, and keep your lips together. You must not be too beautiful! Some warrior will spirit you away.”

  Maya tried to set her features in a more boyish way, but excitement and the unfamiliar feel of her hair and clothes, the male words in her mouth, made her eyes gleam and brought color into her cheeks.

  “Calm down,” Sada scolded her. “You must not draw attention to yourself. You are one of Lord Taku’s servants; one of the lowest, too.”

  “What will I have to do?”

  “Very little, I expect. Learn how to deal with boredom.”

  “Like Taku,” Maya said without thinking.