Shike, p.6
Shike, page 6
Jebu stopped speaking, seeing in his mind, as he had many times before, the scene of his father's death. It did not make him sad. It puzzled and fascinated him. He wanted to know everything about who his father really was; it was more important to him than being a Zinja. One day, he would learn everything, even if he had to travel to that desert land across the sea.
At last Taniko said, "Your father must have been a brave man and a great fighter. Did the warrior in red ride away and vanish, then?"
"No. He had asked many questions before he encountered my father, and he knew that Jamuga the Cunning had a son, and the son was at the Waterfowl Temple. He climbed the mountain to the temple that same night, stood outside the gate and demanded that I be turned over to him. He said it was his mission to execute Jamuga and all of his lineage."
"To kill a baby? How cruel!"
"He didn't know what the Zinja are, and I suspect he must have thought he was dealing with ordinary, harmless monks. Eventually Taitaro got tired of arguing with him and sent three of the brothers out to kill him. He may have been surprised by the attack, but he surprised the Order, too. He killed two of the monks and escaped. Rarely has an ordinary warrior bested a Zinja in combat, and for one warrior to defeat three Zinja is unheard of."
"My father told me one Zinja is the equal of ten samurai. After seeing what you did to Ikeno, I believe it."
"Yes, but this red warrior is not a samurai. I believe that somewhere in the world he still lives and still wants to kill me. Some day I will meet him. I will defeat him. That is one reason why I've given my life to the Zinja training. To prepare myself for him. Before I kill him, I will force him to tell me why it all happened."
Taniko looked at him, her red-painted lips parted in awe. "For a monk, you are quite an exciting person, Jebu." Then she turned pink and wheeled her horse to leave him. Her gelding brushed, seemingly by accident, against Hollyhock, and her small hand, seemingly by accident, stroked the back of Jebu's hand.
Chapter Six
The next morning, when Jebu awoke, he found a pale green paper among the arrows in his quiver. The paper had been folded into a narrow strip and the strip knotted around a small sprig of pine. When he opened the paper he found inscribed on it, in beautiful brushstrokes, a poem:
The red fire consumes the desert pine, But the wings of the young waterfowl Soar above the flames.
In the silence around him Jebu heard a redbird singing and his heart hammering. She had made this beautiful thing for him, for him alone. He rode over to her and looked at her and said nothing. As she watched, he refolded the .poem carefully and put it inside his tunic, against the bare skin of his chest.
They rode side by side that day, sometimes talking casually, much of the time in silence. That night they reached Miya and stayed at the mansion of a Takashi lord. Jebu asked a servant for ink stone, brush and paper, and in his best handwriting wrote a poem the way Taitaro had taught him, going into meditation first, then writing whatever words came, without trying to think and without criticizing afterwards.
The young waterfowl tries to fly
But a snare hidden in the lilac branch Holds him fast.
The paper the servant had given him was violet. He found a fallen maple leaf of a shade that seemed to suit the paper well, and folded his poem around it.
The next morning he slipped the poem into a box of provisions their host had given Taniko for that day's journey. At Miya the Tokaido was cut off by the sea, and they spent the day travelling by boat to Kuwana, where they could resume the journey by land. From the bow of their boat Jebu watched Taniko walk to the rail, unfold the violet paper and read the poem. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away.
The days that followed felt like a slide down an ever-steepening hill. With each passing moment their party seemed to move more swiftly towards Heian Kyo. The closer they came to the capital, the better the road, the easier the journey, and the more Jebu wished they would never get there.
When he was a child his mother had told him stories of the wonderful city of the Son of Heaven and of the adventures of the lords and ladies of high lineage who lived there. For years he had dreamed of the capital as the centre of all that was noble, wise, ancient, beautiful and rich. To see Heian Kyo had been a lifelong wish. Now it was the last place in the world he wanted to see, because seeing it would mean the end for him and Taniko.
At last they came to the mountains surrounding the Imperial city. That night they would leave the Tokaido and stay at the Zinja Temple of the New Moon on Mount Higashi, overlooking the capital. It was one of the largest Zinja enclaves in the Sacred Islands, housing over four hundred monks. The Imperial officials of Heian Kyo lived in mortal fear of the Zinja monks dwelling on Mount Higashi. More than once the monks had descended into the city to punish some noble who had offended them. The Imperial troops were no match for monks trained in the Zinja arts of combat. Once or twice the Zinja could even have seized control of the capital, but the rule of the Order forbade them to hold political power.
Jebu sensed something wrong as soon as he glimpsed the temple. Where there should have been stone walls and towers there was a heap of broken rocks. No rooftops were visible above the jumbled stones. Telling the others to wait, he rode on ahead.
"Earthquake," one member of a group of monks seated on the tumbled-down monastery walls told him. "Two nights ago the kami of this mountain shook us as a wild horse shakes off a man who tries to ride him. Then it took the form of a shark and opened its mouth and swallowed us by the hundreds."
"By the hundreds?"
"These brothers you see here are all who are left." The monk raised an admonitory hand. "You look shocked. Do not be. It is not our way to let disaster overwhelm us. We pass through life leaving no trace. This is as true for hundreds as for one. What happened was neither good nor evil. It simply happened. We will move on."
"Will you try to rebuild?"
"Perhaps. We will await word from the Council of Abbots on whether to rebuild or simply to join another community. I am sorry we cannot offer you and your party hospitality, but you will be more comfortable sleeping under the stars. And safer. The god of the mountain may shake us again at any time. There is a lovely shrine to the Emperor Jimmu down the road. There you will be protected by the Emperor's spirit. And there is a view of Heian Kyo. Let me direct you to it."
Their path took them out of the forest and to the edge of a cliff. Suddenly all of Heian Kyo lay spread out before them on the gently sloping plain below. The sun was low over the mountains in the west, and it bathed the city in the golden glow of late afternoon. The dark rooftops of the city and the trees from which they emerged, stretching into the distance, took on a purple colour and seemed to float in a violet haze.
Jebu recognized the Nine-Fold Enclosure, the grounds of the Imperial palace, from the many descriptions of it he had heard. It was a town in itself. The gigantic Great Hall of State, with its elaborate roof of green glazed tiles, towered over the other buildings. South of the palace enclosure was a spacious park with a large lake, a hill and a thatch-roofed pavilion.
From the centre gate of the palace grounds an avenue as wide as a river, paved with black stone, swept all the way to the southern wall of the city. Other streets running north and south and intersecting with avenues running east and west subdivided the city into many squares, each a park, each dotted with palaces.
The sunlight glinted on two rivers that ran on either side of the city and on canals and reflecting pools shaded by willow trees. The huge black towers of the gates rose massive, complex and ornate at intervals along the low city walls. In and out of the eastern gates flowed endless streams of people on foot and in sedan chairs, litters, ox-drawn carriages and on horseback.
There was very little traffic through the western gates. The half of the city west of the central avenue seemed deserted and overgrown with trees. Only a few buildings scattered here and there poked their rooftops above the greenery.
Moko reined up beside Jebu. "Beautiful," he said. "As always. That great street running south from the palace is Redbird Avenue. It is so wide that a hundred men could march down it abreast. And the gateway at the south end of Redbird Avenue is the Rasho Mon. That's where you find the thieves and beggars and spies. I used to slip away from my mother whenever I could, to go down to the Rasho Mon to talk to the wicked ones. It was haunted by a ghost a long time ago, you know. A hideous demon that used to make people disappear. But Muratomo no Tsuna cut her arm off with his famous sword, Higekiri, and drove her away."
"Why is the western half of the city so empty?"
"It has been that way for hundreds of years. The ground is soft and swampy and thieves haunt the area, frightening away the good citizens. Everyone prefers to live on the east side of the city. Do we go down there now, shike?"
"No. It's still a long way off. We'd never reach the gates before nightfall. And from what you tell me of demons and thieves, I'd rather not sleep outside the gates. We'll rest here and go down the mountain tomorrow." Jebu dismounted and bowed to the near-by grotto in a grove of pines where a small, worn figure carved in pale stone, Jimmu Tenno, first Emperor of the Sunrise Land and descendant of the sun goddess, stood guard over Heian Kyo. The Emperor was portrayed as a warrior in full armour, wearing .a bowl-shaped helmet and a ferocious expression, and holding a short, broad sword more like a Zinja weapon than the long sword of the samurai.
The chill of autumn was in the night. Wrapped in a heavy robe borrowed from Taniko's baggage, Jebu lay near the cliff edge and watched a full moon rise like a white lantern and touch the rooftops and canals of Heian Kyo with silver light. Poets, he knew, proclaimed the moon of the Eighth Month the most beautiful of the year, but sad and bitter feelings gathered like a dark pool in his chest. Tomorrow he would lose Taniko for ever. Just because he was young and a nobody and Prince Sasaki no Horigawa was a man of rank. He was not a very good Zinja, he told himself. Those monks up the road could take with calm the loss of hundreds of their brothers and the destruction of their monastery. He should be able to forget Taniko the moment his back was turned on her.
He wondered if he would forget her.
At last he fell asleep.
He woke suddenly and instantly. In the Waterfowl Temple the boys were encouraged by rewards and punishments to steal from one another during the sleeping hours, or to try to catch one another stealing. By the time he was eight Jebu had been trained to awaken the instant he sensed an intruder, but to remain motionless and to continue breathing as if he were asleep. Now he lay, opening his eyes just a slit, all his Zinja-trained senses focused on the person stealthily moving towards him. A small, light person, scarcely disturbing the grass. A rustle of silk, shallow breathing. A flowery scent.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
"Saisho."
"Who is Saisho?"
"My lady Taniko's maid." By this time the woman had crept so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. The moon was high in the sky, but her head and face were shadowed by the hood of a travelling cloak.
"What do you want?"
"My lady Taniko talks of nothing but you. She makes you sound quite interesting, Jebu. Why should she have you all to herself?" Jebu laughed and reached out to stroke a soft cheek.
"Tell me, Jebu, are you as valiant in the flowery combat as you are in battles with arrows and swords?"
Jebu threw back her hood. The face in the moonlight was Taniko's. "The lilac branch," he whispered.
Sighing, he put his arm around her and they lay for a long time in silence, listening to each other's breathing and gazing down at moonlit Heian Kyo. After a while their bodies began to move, their fingers reaching to touch each other under their garments. Jebu gasped as his fingers grazed her smooth warm skin. He pressed himself against her.
"No. Stop."
"What if I can't stop?"
"You must, or my life is ruined."
"Forget the future. There is only here and now."
"The Zinja are said to be magicians. Can you magically restore the gate of this castle if you batter it down?"
"What if I batter it down even though I can't restore it?"
"Then I will be forced to kill myself. And you will be executed as a rapist. And your Order will pay dearly to my father."
"I will not break through your castle gate. The Order commands me to deliver you safely to Prince Sasaki no Horigawa. The Zinja do not betray their Order."
She giggled. "Is your hair red here, too?"
"Yes."
"Then I am glad I can't see you in the dark." She giggled again and her fingers teased him.
He drew in a sharp breath. "Why do you tempt me?"
"There are other pleasures we can share without your breaking into my castle. You can picnic in the castle garden."
She continued with what she had been doing. The lightning would flash at any moment. It had been so long since he'd lain with a woman. The ground under him seemed to tremble a little. Was it the kami of the mountain, or was it his body?
The lightning flashed. They sighed together.
When he was breathing normally again he said, "You are very good to me."
"I did that for my own protection. Now your battering ram is no threat to my castle gate."
"The threat may arise again in time."
"Until it does," she arched her back and wriggled her hips against him, "you may perhaps enjoy the repast in the garden I spoke of."
The lore preserved and transmitted by the Zinja included more than the arts of combat. Through the study of books from across the sea and with the help of the women who lived with them, each young Zinja became adept in the arts of the bedchamber. The Order treated these arts with the deepest devotion, as vehicles for the achievement of illumination. Even before he was old enough to participate, Jebu had been permitted to observe others in the practice of those arts.
The flesh is holy, Taitaro said. No act of the flesh is base or trivial. To fan the flames of desire is to heighten the power of the mind. To invoke the forces of life is to touch directly the light and wisdom of the Self. Taitaro taught Jebu a ritual and a prayer for his moments with women.
Now Jebo's lips and tongue performed the ritual while his mind recited the prayer. I enact this mystery in honour of the Self. I ask the Self to enter into me with its power. Let the Self enter my body through the body of this woman and fill both of us with light.
Taniko started to cry out, then put her hand over her mouth.
They lay holding each other under the heavy robe, his lips against her neck, looking down at the squares of the city under the full moon.
Jebu whispered to her. He felt that the words were not his, but that some powerful kami spoke through him. "I am yours for the rest of my life and the rest of your life. As I belong to the Order, so I belong to you. Wherever you are, call me, I will come. Whatever you need, command me, I will do it. All things pass, all things die, but this oath which I take on your sacred body will not die."
"Oh, Jebu, whatever words are said to bless my union with Prince Horigawa, those words will be dry and dead as autumn leaves. The lilac branch will always be waiting for the waterfowl."
Jebu felt tears come to his eyes. He pictured years and years to come, a desert of time in which he would wander, separated from Taniko.
He must have fallen asleep. When he awoke again Taniko was gone and the ground was cold. The moon had set, and he could see someone standing near by looking over the edge of the cliff. He stood up. There was a pink glow in the east, the glow of dawn. But there was a red light nearer at hand that sent a chill down the back of his neck.
Heian Kyo was on fire.
Looking closely, he saw that banners of flame were fluttering above certain scattered palaces while others, though brightly lit, remained untouched. In the dawn's glow and the firelight Jebu could make out figures milling in the streets and around the gates. Screams and faint war cries reached his ears.
Moko came to stand beside him and turned frightened eyes up to him. "Shike, there is war in the streets of the capital. A little while ago I heard sounds that made me uneasy. I got up and looked over the cliff edge. I saw palaces burst into flames, men fighting in the streets. Shall I wake the others? What shall we do?"
"We will do nothing until we know exactly what is happening. Let the others sleep. You and I will watch." Jebu squatted down at the cliff edge. He looked over to the dark, silent shape of the tent Taniko shared with her maids.
By the time the warmth of the sun woke the others, a pall of smoke hung over Heian Kyo. Motionless figures could be seen lying in the broad streets and avenues while riders on horseback raced up and down.
Tears streamed down Taniko's face. "Oh, Jebu, it was so lovely last night, and now it is being destroyed." The sunlight sparkled in her tear-filled eyes. Perhaps the eyes are most beautiful when wet with tears, Jebu thought. He felt his own eyes grow hot and wet, and her face blurred. But he was not weeping for Heian Kyo. Her fingers touched the back of his hand.
"You were beautiful last night," he said, "and you are still beautiful in the sunrise."
She shook her head. "For me the sun is setting."
She turned and walked away to join the two maidservants, who were standing before the statue of Emperor Jimmu in the dark green grove of pines. What Jebu felt, he had no name for. A woman gave you pleasure, and you remembered her fondly. That feeling was pleasant. That feeling was no bigger than a forest pool. What he felt now was pain, a pain that almost made him forget the strange and terrible sight of Heian Kyo's agony. This feeling was an ocean. It seemed, at that moment, that life was over for him, that he was already dead. Taitaro was forever saying that we should live as if already dead. If this was what he meant, he was wrong. This was unbearable.
