Lord of the Darkwood

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  Might it be through grief

  at sight of the bush clover,

  colored by autumn,

  that the stag’s cries continue

  until the foothills resound?

  —from Kokin Wakashū: The First Imperial Anthology of Japanese Poetry, translated by Helen Craig McCullough

  THE TALE OF SHIKANOKO LIST OF CHARACTERS

  MAIN CHARACTERS

  Kumayama no Kazumaru, later known as Shikanoko or Shika

  Nishimi no Akihime, the Autumn Princess, Aki

  Kuromori no Kiyoyori, the Kuromori lord

  Lady Tama, his wife, the Matsutani lady

  Masachika, Kiyoyori’s younger brother

  Hina, sometimes known as Yayoi, his daughter

  Tsumaru, his son

  Bara or Ibara, Hina’s servant

  Yoshimori, also Yoshimaru, the Hidden Emperor, Yoshi

  Takeyoshi, also Takemaru, son of Shikanoko and Akihime, Take

  Lady Tora

  Shisoku, the mountain sorcerer

  Sesshin, an old wise man

  The Prince Abbot

  Akuzenji, King of the Mountain, a bandit

  Hisoku, Lady Tama’s retainer

  THE MIBOSHI CLAN

  Lord Aritomo, head of the clan, also known as the Minatogura lord

  Yukikuni no Takaakira

  The Yukikuni lady, his wife

  Takauji, their son

  Arinori, lord of the Aomizu area, a sea captain

  Yamada Keisaku, Masachika’s adoptive father

  Gensaku, one of Takaakira’s retinue

  Yasuie, one of Masachika’s men

  Yasunobu, his brother

  THE KAKIZUKI CLAN

  Lord Keita, head of the clan

  Hosokawa no Masafusa, a kinsman of Kiyoyori

  Tsuneto, one of Kiyoyori’s warriors

  Sadaike, one of Kiyoyori’s warriors

  Tachiyama no Enryo, one of Kiyoyori’s warriors

  Hatsu, his wife

  Kongyo, Kiyoyori’s senior retainer

  Haru, his wife

  Chikamaru, later Motochika, Chika, his son

  Kaze, his daughter

  Hironaga, a retainer at Kuromori

  Tsunesada, a retainer at Kuromori

  Taro, a servant in Kiyoyori’s household in Miyako

  THE IMPERIAL COURT

  The Emperor

  Prince Momozono, the Crown Prince

  Lady Shinmei’in, his wife, Yoshimori’s mother

  Daigen, his younger brother, later Emperor

  Lady Natsue, Daigen’s mother, sister of the Prince Abbot

  Yoriie, an attendant

  Nishimi no Hidetake, Aki’s father, foster father to Yoshimori

  Kai, his adopted daughter

  AT THE TEMPLE OF RYUSONJI

  Gessho, a warrior monk

  Eisei, a young monk, later one of the Burnt Twins

  AT KUMAYAMA

  Shigetomo, Shikanoko’s father

  Sademasa, his brother, Shikanoko’s uncle, now lord of the estate

  Nobuto, one of his warriors

  Tsunemasa, one of his warriors

  Naganori, one of his warriors

  Nagatomo, Naganori’s son, Shika’s childhood friend, later one of the Burnt Twins

  AT NISHIMI

  Lady Sadako and Lady Masako, Hina’s teachers

  Saburo, a groom

  THE RIVERBANK PEOPLE

  Lady Fuji, the mistress of the pleasure boats

  Asagao, a musician and entertainer

  Yuri, Sen, Sada, and Teru, young girls at the convent

  Sarumaru, Saru, an acrobat and monkey trainer

  Kinmaru and Monmaru, acrobats and monkey trainers

  THE SPIDER TRIBE

  Kiku, later Master Kikuta, Lady Tora’s oldest son

  Mu, her second son

  Kuro, her third son

  Ima, her fourth son

  Ku, her fifth son

  Tsunetomo, a warrior, Kiku’s retainer

  Shida, Mu’s wife, a fox woman

  Kinpoge, their daughter

  Unagi, a merchant in Kitakami

  SUPERNATURAL BEINGS

  Tadashii, a tengu

  Hidari and Migi, guardian spirits of Matsutani

  The dragon child

  Ban, a flying horse

  Gen, a fake wolf

  Kon and Zen, werehawks

  HORSES

  Nyorin, Akuzenji’s white stallion, later Shikanoko’s

  Risu, a bad-tempered brown mare

  Tan, their foal

  WEAPONS

  Jato, Snake Sword

  Jinan, Second Son

  Ameyumi, Rain Bow

  Kodama, Echo

  1

  HINA (YAYOI)

  The girl could see nothing. Her lungs were bursting. At any moment, she would open her mouth and breathe in the fatal waters of the lake. Snatches of her brief life came to her: her mother’s face, her father’s last words, her brother’s cry for help before he disappeared. She had been one of the few survivors after the massacre in Miyako. Now her life was over, and she and Takemaru, the baby she clutched desperately, would join the dead. Tears formed in her eyes, only to be lost in the ebb and flow of Lake Kasumi.

  Then suddenly there were dark shapes next to her, strong arms seized her. She was pulled upward toward the light, miraculously still holding the baby. She retched and coughed, gasping for air, taking great gulps of it into her lungs. Hands reached down from the side of the boat and took Take from her. He was limp and pale, but, as she herself was pulled on board, she heard him scream in ragged, outraged gasps. He was alive.

  The boat bucked like a living animal in the strong westerly wind. She saw the ocher-colored sail lowered quickly, dropped on the deck, while the helmsman struggled with the oar at the stern. The men who had plunged into the water to save her were lifted up; they tore their wet clothes off and went naked, laughing. Monkeys screamed and chattered at them, dancing at the end of their cords. The sun in the east was dazzling. A crowd surrounded her. The men who were not naked were all dressed in red. They looked like beings from another world and she was afraid that she had drowned. But women stripped the heavy robes from her with hands that felt real, exclaiming at their fine quality in human voices. She and the baby were wrapped in furs, wolf and bear skins, and a bowl of some warm, strange-smelling liquid was pushed into her hands.

  Men hoisted the sail again, the hemp flapping, fighting them, ropes snapping, snaking through the air. The monkeys screamed more loudly. In the confusion, one of the boys approached her, holding the lute. Beneath the howl of the wind, the slap of the waves, it was still playing, but more softly, its mother-of-pearl and gold-inlaid rosewood gleaming in the sun.

  “Who are you?” he said quietly. “What are you doing with Genzo?”

  Fragments of memories came to her. It is Genzo, the Emperor’s lute, Take’s mother, Akihime, the Autumn P
rincess, had said, and she had promised to tell her where the child Emperor was, but she had not. Could this be him standing before her? It must be, the lute revealed him. But she must hide the fact she knew who he was.

  She shook her head at him, as though she did not understand, and held out her hands. His eyes narrowed as he thrust the lute at her. She saw his unease, longed to speak to reassure him, but did not dare say anything. How would she address him, for a start? Words of honor and deference rose on her tongue, but then the sailors shouted roughly at him to come and help them. Beside him the other boy was holding a text, made up of pages stitched together.

  “Yoshi caught the lute and I caught this,” he said, holding it out to her. “It’s heavy! How did a girl like you manage to throw it so far?”

  She grabbed it from him. She could not explain it, maybe it had sprouted wings and flown. She already knew the Kudzu Vine Treasure Store was enchanted. She tucked it under one arm while she turned her attention to the lute. It gave a sigh, as if it would start playing; she gripped it with her other hand.

  More shouts echoed around her. The boys darted from her side and the lute quieted. It retained all its beauty, but it surrendered to her touch and allowed her to play it. It no longer played itself, in that wild irrepressible outburst of joy.

  “She is a musician,” one of the men who had rescued her exclaimed. “We must take her to Lady Fuji.”

  The other looked back toward Nishimi, now barely visible over the choppy surface of the lake. “She must be from a noble family. Someone will miss her, someone will come looking for her.”

  “That was Lord Hidetake’s home,” the oarsman called. “He is dead.”

  “Could this be his daughter? The one they call the Autumn Princess?”

  “The Autumn Princess would be a grown woman by now,” said one of the women, who had already put Take to her breast and was nursing him. “This one is still a girl. How old are you, lady?”

  “I turned twelve this year,” the girl replied.

  “And what do they call you?”

  She did not want to say her name. There came into her mind a fragment of memory, a poem. “Yayoi,” she said. It meant Spring.

  “Is this little man your brother?” the woman asked, stroking Take’s black hair tenderly.

  She knew she must not tell them that the baby was the Autumn Princess’s son. “No, my mother died, a long time ago. He is the child of one of my maids.” She went on, improvising, “She died giving birth to him. I like to play with him. I was holding him when I had to run away.”

  “What were you running from?” They were sympathetic toward her, but their curiosity was becoming tinged with anxiety.

  The girl who had named herself Yayoi began to shiver, despite the furs and the warm drink.

  “A bad man came,” she said, and then regretted sounding so childish. “I was afraid he was going to kill me.”

  “We should take her back,” one of the men suggested.

  “Kinmaru,” the other man reproved him. “Someone was going to kill her!”

  “And that someone, Monmaru, could very well come looking for her and then who will get killed? Us, that’s who!”

  “Can’t turn back against this wind,” the helmsman called. “It’s impossible.”

  * * *

  It was late in the afternoon by the time they came to the shore near the Rainbow Bridge. The market was almost over. Lanterns were being lit in the streets of Aomizu, on the island of Majima, and along the bridge. As soon as the boat grounded, the acrobats leaped ashore with the monkeys.

  “It’s not too late to do a trick or two,” Kinmaru cried. Monmaru began to beat a small drum and immediately the boys threw themselves into a performance, a circle of somersaults with the monkeys, a high tower with three of the monkeys on top, a wild dance where the animals jumped from man to boy to man. A crowd soon gathered around them. Yayoi realized the audience knew the monkeys by name, calling out to them, Shiro, Tomo, Kemuri, and had their favorites, whom they applauded wildly. She was dazed by the noise, the colorful clothes, the shouts in a dialect she could barely understand. She gripped the lute and the text close to her chest, as though they could shield her from this strange, new world.

  “Come,” said the woman who had nursed Take—he was now asleep in her arms. “You will stay with us tonight and tomorrow we will ask Lady Fuji what she thinks we should do with you.”

  Yayoi slept restlessly on a thin mat in a room with three women and a clutch of children—one other young infant and three toddlers. The toddlers slept deeply like kittens. Take woke once screaming, and the other baby was colicky and fretful. Every time Yayoi felt herself dropping into sleep, the baby wailed and she woke in alarm, half-dreaming something had happened to Take, he had slipped from her arms underwater, he’d been stolen by monkeys. She heard the men and boys return later, their exaggerated efforts to keep quiet, their muffled laughter, the monkeys chattering as they were returned to their cages. For a few hours the house fell silent, but she thought she heard a bird call, while it was still dark, before even the roosters had woken, a long, fluting call like an echo from the past.

  The women rose at dawn to prepare the morning meal. Yayoi, who had never made a meal in her life, held Take for a while. He was nearly two months old. He looked closely at her face and smiled.

  He will never know his mother, she thought, and felt tears pool in her eyes. What would this day bring for them both? She felt sick and faint with fear.

  “Don’t cry, lady.”

  “Look how pale she is, white as a spirit.”

  “You need to be beautiful for Lady Fuji.”

  The women’s voices echoed around her.

  “Will Lady Fuji let me keep Takemaru?” she said.

  They exchanged looks that she was not meant to see.

  “The baby can stay with us.”

  “Yes, I have plenty of milk for two.”

  “You cannot look after him, you are still a child yourself.”

  “Then let me stay with you too!” Yayoi could not hold the tears in.

  “This is no place for a young lady like you,” Take’s foster mother said.

  It was cool in the early morning, but by the time Lady Fuji arrived the sun was high in the sky and the air was warm. She came in with a rustle of silk, cherry blossom petals in her hair, the sweet perfume of spring all around her.

  The women immediately started to apologize on Yayoi’s behalf.

  “Her clothes are not yet dry.”

  “She’s been crying, her eyes are red.”

  “She nearly drowned yesterday; she can’t be expected to look her best.”

  Fuji studied Yayoi carefully, taking her head between her hands and tilting it from side to side. “I can see how she looks. What a beautiful child. Who are you, my dear, and where do you come from?”

  Some instinct warned Yayoi that her former life was over and she should never speak of it. She shook her head.

  “You can’t tell me? Well, that may be for the best. You have a Kakizuki look to you. Are you a survivor of the massacre in the capital?”

  Yayoi did not answer, but Fuji smiled as if she had acquiesced.

  “Someone hid you at Nishimi, but you were discovered and that is why you ran away?”

  This time Yayoi nodded.

  “Can you imagine any man wanting to kill something so precious?” Fuji said. “Yet hundreds of women and children were put to death in Miyako last year when the Kakizuki warriors fled, leaving their families behind. I am of a mind to protect this one.”

  She looked around and saw the lute and the text. “You brought these with you? As well as the baby?” She picked up the lute and studied it with an expressionless face. It had lost its glowing rosewood and its gleaming inlay, yet Yayoi thought the older woman recognized it.

  “So what am I to do with you?” Fuji said finally. “Is anyone going to come in pursuit of you?”

  “I don’t know,” Yayoi replied. “Maybe.” She he
ld herself rigid, trying not to tremble.

  “Someone must have seen you fall in the lake, but did they see you rescued? If anyone is looking for you, they will start their search with our boats, so I think I will take you somewhere you can be safely hidden. We will hold a funeral service for the children who sadly drowned.”

  Hina drowned and Yayoi was rescued.

  “Will Take come with me?”

  “How can a girl like you take care of a baby? And that would only draw unwanted attention to you. Take can stay here, the women will look after him. One more baby makes little difference to this troop of children.”

  She called to the women to bring some clothes, not Yayoi’s own robes, which she told the women to cut up for costumes, but old castoffs that smelled of mildew and something sour like vinegar. When she was dressed, they covered her head with a cloth, which concealed her hair and most of her face.

  “I must take my things,” she said anxiously. “The lute and the text.” Clasping them to her chest, she followed Fuji into the rear courtyard of the house, where the boys from the boat were feeding the monkeys and playing with them. A young girl was with them, idly beating a small drum, laughing at the monkeys and teasing the boys when they yawned and rubbed their eyes. Yayoi wanted to stay with them, to be one of them.

  She felt the lute stir and quiver and the notes began to trickle from it. She gripped it, willing it to be silent. The girl came to Yoshi’s side and took his hand protectively. Yayoi wondered if they had grown up together, if the girl was a princess like Aki.

  Fuji shook her head. “It will be safer hidden away too,” she said. “Kai, dear, I’ve told you before not to hang around here with the monkeys. Go back to your own place. I’m sure you have plenty of chores there.”

  “I wish I could stay here,” Kai replied.

  “What nonsense! Girls are never acrobats. Be thankful the musicians took you in.”

  Fuji helped Yayoi into the palanquin that rested on the ground outside the rear gate, the porters, two strong young men, beside it. They both bowed respectfully to Fuji, who gave them directions in a quick, low voice before she climbed in next to Yayoi and let down the bamboo blinds.

  She heard the women call, “Goodbye! Goodbye! Take care of yourself.”