Brilliance Of The Moon Part 2

"Jo-An!" I called, and he came to the horse's side. It snorted at him and tried to rear, but he took the bridle and calmed it. "Tell them to keep working," I said, adding, "So I am even further in your debt."

"You owe me nothing," he replied. "You owe G.o.d everything."

Makoto rode up alongside, and I found myself hoping he had not heard Jo-An's words. Our horses touched noses and the black stallion squealed and tried to bite the other. Jo-An smacked it on the neck.

Makoto's glance fell on him. "Outcasts?" he said, disbelieving. "What are they doing here?"

"Saving our lives. They're building a floating bridge."

He pulled his horse back a few steps. Beneath his helmet I could see the curl of his lips. "No one will use it-" he began, but I cut him off.

"They will, because I command it. This is our only way of escape."

"We could fight our way back to the bridge at Yamagata."

"And lose all our advantage of speed? Anyway, we would be outnumbered five to one. And we'd have no retreat route. I won't do that. We'll cross the river by the bridge. Go back to the men and bring many of them to work with the outcasts. Let the rest prepare for the crossing."

"No one will cross this bridge if it is built by outcasts," he said, and something in his voice, as if he were speaking to a child, enraged me. It was the same feeling I'd had months ago when s.h.i.+geru's guards had let Kenji into the garden at Hagi, fooled by his tricks, unaware that he was a master a.s.sa.s.sin from the Tribe. I could only protect my men if they obeyed me. I forgot Makoto was older, wiser, and more experienced than I was. I let the fury sweep over me.

"Do as I command you at once. You must persuade them, or you'll answer to me for it. Let the warriors act as guards while the pack-horses and foot soldiers cross. Bring bowmen to cover the bridge. We will cross before nightfall."

"Lord Otori." He bowed his head and his horse plunged and splashed away over the rice fields and up the slope beyond. I watched him disappear between the shafts of bamboo, then turned my attention to the outcasts' work.

They were las.h.i.+ng together the lumber they had collected and the trunks they had felled into rafts, each one supported on piles of reeds tied into bundles with cords plaited from tree bark and hemp. As each raft was finished they floated it out into the water and lashed it to the ones already moored in place. But the force of the current kept the rafts pushed into the bank.

"It needs to be anch.o.r.ed to the farther side," I said to Jo-An. "Someone will swim across," he replied.

One of the younger men took a roll of cord, tied it round his waist, and plunged into the river. But the current was far too strong for him. We saw his arms flailing above the surface, then he disappeared under the yellow water. He was hauled back, half-drowned. "Give the rope to me," I said.

Jo-An looked anxiously down the bank. "No, lord, wait," he begged me. "When the men come, one of them can swim across."

"When the men come, the bridge must be ready," I retorted. "Give me the rope."

Jo-An untied it from the young man, who was sitting up now, spitting out water, and handed it up to me. I made it fast around my waist and urged my horse forward. The rope slid over his haunches, making him leap; he was in the water almost before he realized it.

I shouted at him to encourage him, and he put one ear back to listen to me. For the first few paces his feet were on the bottom. Then the water came up to his shoulder and he began to swim. I tried to keep his head turned toward where I hoped we would land, but strong and willing as he was, the current was stronger, and we were carried by it downstream toward the remains of the old bridge.

I glanced toward it and did not like what I saw. The current was hurling branches and other debris against the piles, and if my horse were to be caught among them, he would panic and drown us both. I felt and feared the power of the river. So did he. Both ears lay flat against his head, and his eyes rolled. Luckily his terror gave him extra strength. He put in one great exertion, striking out with all four feet. We cleared the piles by a couple of arm spans and suddenly the current slackened. We were past the middle. A few moments later the horse found his footing and began to plunge up and down, taking huge steps to try and clear the water. He scrambled up onto firm ground and stood, head lowered, sides heaving, his former exuberance completely extinguished. I slipped from his back and patted his neck, telling him his father must have been a water spirit for him to swim so well. We were both saturated, more like fish or frogs than land animals.

I could feel the pull of the cord around my waist and dreaded it taking me back into the water. I half crawled, half scrambled to a small grove of trees at the edge of the river. They stood around a tiny shrine dedicated to the fox G.o.d, judging by the white statues, and were submerged to their lower branches by the flood. It lapped at the feet of the statues, making the foxes look as if they floated. I pa.s.sed the cord around the trunk of the nearest tree, a small maple just beginning to burst into leaf, and started to haul on it. It was attached to a much stronger rope; I could feel its sodden weight as it came reluctantly up out of the river. Once I had enough length on it, I secured it to another, larger tree. It occurred to me that I was probably going to pollute the shrine in some way, but at that moment I did not care what G.o.d, spirit, or demon I offended as long as I got my men safely across the river.

All the time I was listening. Despite the rain I couldn't believe this place was as deserted as it seemed; it was at the site of a bridge on what appeared to be a well-used road. Through the hiss of the rain and the roar of the river I could hear the mewing of kites, the croaking of hundreds of frogs, enthusiastic about the wet, and crows calling harshly from the forest. But where were all the people?

Once the rope was secure, about ten of the outcasts crossed the river holding on to it. Far more skilled than I, they redid all my knots and set up a pulley system using the smooth branches of the maple. Slowly, laboriously, they hauled on the rafts, their chests heaving, their muscles standing out like cords. The river tore at the rafts, resenting their intrusion into its domain, but the men persisted and the rafts, made buoyant and stable by their reed mattresses, responded like oxen and came inch by inch toward us.

One side of the floating bridge was jammed by the current against the existing piles. Otherwise I think the river would have defeated us. I could see the bridge was close to being finished, but there was no sign of Makoto returning with the warriors. I had lost all sense of time, and the clouds were too low and dark to be able to discern the position of the sun, but I thought at least an hour must have pa.s.sed. Had Makoto not been able to persuade them? Had they turned back to Yamagata as he had suggested? Closest friend or not, I would kill him with my own hands if they had. I strained my ears but could hear nothing except the river, the rain, and the frogs.

Beyond the shrine, where I stood, the road emerged from the water. I could see the mountains behind it, white mist hanging like streamers to their slopes. My horse was s.h.i.+vering. I thought I should move him around a little to keep him warm, since I had no idea how I would ever get him dry. I mounted and went a little way along the road, thinking also that I might get a better view across the river from the higher ground.

Not far along stood a kind of hovel built from wood and daub and roughly thatched with reeds. A wooden barrier had been placed across the road beside it. I wondered what it was: It did not look like an official fief border post and there did not seem to be any guards.

As I came closer I saw that several human heads were attached to the barrier, some freshly killed, others no more than skulls. I'd barely had time to feel revulsion when, from behind me, my ears caught the sound I'd been waiting for: the tramping of horses and men from the other side of the river. I looked back and saw through the rain the vanguard of my army emerging from the forest and splas.h.i.+ng toward the bridge. I recognized Kahei by his helmet. He was riding in the front, Makoto alongside him.

My chest lightened with relief. I turned Aoi back; he saw the distant shapes of his fellows and gave a loud neigh. This was echoed at once by a tremendous shout from inside the hovel. The ground shook as the door was thrown open and the largest man I'd ever seen, larger even than the charcoal burners' giant, stepped out.

My first thought was that he was an ogre or a demon. He was nearly two arm spans tall and as broad as an ox; yet despite his bulk his head seemed far too large, as if the skull bone had never stopped growing. His hair was long and matted, he had a thick, wiry mustache and beard, and his eyes were not human-shaped but round like an animal's. He had only one ear, ma.s.sive and pendulous. Where the other ear had been, a blue-gray scar gleamed through his hair. But his speech when he shouted at me was human enough.

"Hey!" he yelled in his enormous voice. "What d'you think y'doing on my road?"

"I am Otori Takeo," I replied. "I am bringing my army through. Clear the barrier!"

He laughed; it was like the sound of rocks cras.h.i.+ng down the side of a mountain. "No one comes through here unless Jin-emon says they can. Go back and tell your army that!"

The rain was falling more heavily; the day was rapidly losing its light. I was exhausted, hungry, wet, and cold. "Clear the road," I shouted impatiently. "We are coming through."

He strode toward me without answering. He was carrying a weapon, but he held it behind his back so I could not see clearly what it was. I heard the sound before I saw his arm move: a sort of metallic clink. With one hand I swung the horse's head around, with the other I drew Jato. Aoi heard the sound, too, and saw the giant's arm lunge outward. He s.h.i.+ed sideways, and the ogre's stick and chain went past my ears, howling like a wolf.

The chain was weighted at one end and the stick to which the other end was attached had a sickle set in it. I'd never encountered such a weapon before, and had no idea how to fight him. The chain swung again, catching the horse round the right hind leg. Aoi screamed in pain and fear and lashed out. I kicked my feet from the stirrups, slid down on the opposite side from the ogre, and turned to face him. I'd obviously fallen in with a madman who was going to kill me if I did not kill him first.

He grinned at me. I must have looked to him no larger than the Peach Boy or some other tiny character from a folktale. I caught the beginning of movement in his muscle and split my image, throwing myself to the left. The chain went harmlessly through my second self. Jato leaped through the air between us and sank its blade into his lower arm, just above the wrist. Ordinarily it would have taken off the hand, but this adversary had bones of stone. I felt the reverberations up into my shoulder, and for a moment I feared my sword would lodge in his arm like an ax in a tree.

Jin-emon made a kind of creaking groan, not unlike the sound of the mountain when it freezes, and transferred the stick to his other hand. Blood was now oozing from his right hand, dark blackish-red in color, not splas.h.i.+ng as you would expect. I went invisible for a moment as the chain howled again, briefly considered retreating to the river, wondering where on earth all my men were when I needed them. Then I saw an unprotected s.p.a.ce and thrust Jato up into it and into the flesh that lay there. The wound left by my sword was huge, but again he hardly bled. A fresh wave of horror swept through me. I was fighting something nonhuman, supernatural. Did I have any chance of overcoming it?

On the next swing the chain wrapped itself round my sword. Giving a shout of triumph, Jin-emon yanked it from my hands. Jato flew through the air and landed several feet away from me. The ogre approached me, making sweeping movements with his arms, wise to my tricks now.

I stood still. I had my knife in my belt, but I did not want to draw it, in case he swung his chain and ended my life there and then. I wanted this monster to look at me. He came up to me, seized me by the shoulders, and lifted me from the ground. I don't know what his plan was- maybe to tear out my throat with his huge teeth and drink my blood. I thought, He is not my son, he cannot kill me He is not my son, he cannot kill me, and stared into his eyes. They had no more expression than a beast's, but as they met mine I saw them round with astonishment. I sensed behind them his dull malevolence, his brutal and pitiless nature. I realized the power that lay within me and let it stream from me. His eyes began to cloud. He gave a low moan and his grasp slackened as he wavered and crashed to the ground like a great tree under the woodsman's ax. I threw myself sideways, not wanting to end up pinned beneath him, and rolled to where Jato lay, making Aoi, who had been circling nervously around us, prance and rear again. Sword in hand, I ran back to where Jin-emon had fallen; he was snoring in the deep Kikuta sleep. I tried to raise the huge head to cut it off, but its weight was too great, and I did not want to risk damaging the blade of my sword. Instead, I thrust Jato into his throat and cut open the artery and windpipe. Even here the blood ran sluggishly. His heels kicked, his back arched, but he did not waken. Eventually his breathing stopped.

I'd thought he was alone, but then a sound came from the hovel and I turned to see a much smaller man scuttling from the door. He shouted something incoherent, bounded across the dike behind the hut, and disappeared into the forest.

I s.h.i.+fted the barrier myself, gazing on the skulls and wondering whose they were. Two of the older ones fell while I was moving the wood, and insects crawled out from their eye sockets. I placed them in the gra.s.s and went back to my horse, chilled and nauseated. Aoi's leg was bruised and bleeding from where the chain had caught it, although it did not appear to be broken. He could walk, but he was very lame. I led him back to the river.

The encounter seemed like a bad dream, yet the more I pondered it, the better I felt. Jin-emon should have killed me-my severed head should now be on the barrier along with the others-but my Tribe powers had delivered me from him. It seemed to confirm the prophecy completely. If such an ogre could not kill me, who could? By the time I got back to the river, new energy was flowing through me. However, what I saw there transformed it into rage.

The bridge was in place, but only the outcasts were on the nearer side. The rest of my army were still on the other bank. The outcasts were huddled in that sullen way of theirs that I was beginning to understand as their reaction to the irrationality of the world's contempt for them. Jo-An was sitting on his haunches, gazing gloomily at the swirling water. He stood when he saw me.

"They won't cross, lord. You'll have to go and order them."

"I will," I said, my anger mounting. "Take the horse, wash the wound, and walk him round so he doesn't chill." Jo-An took the reins. "What happened?"

"I had an encounter with a demon," I replied shortly, and stepped onto the bridge.

The men waiting on the opposite side gave a shout when they saw me, but not one of them ventured onto the other end of the bridge.

It was not easy to walk on-a swaying ma.s.s, partly submerged at times, pulled and rocked by the river. I half-ran, thinking as I did so of the nightingale floor that I had run across so lightly in Hagi. I prayed to s.h.i.+geru's spirit to be with me.

On the other side, Makoto dismounted and grasped my arm. "Where were you? We feared you were dead."

"I might well have been," I said in fury. "Where were you?" Before he could answer, Kahei rode up to us.

"What's the delay for?" I demanded. "Get the men moving."

Kahei hesitated. "They fear pollution from the outcasts."

"Get down," I said, and as he slid from his horse's back I let them both feel the full force of my rage. "Because of your stupidity I nearly died. If I give an order, it must be obeyed at once, no matter what you think of it. If that doesn't suit you, then ride back now, to Hagi, to the temple, to wherever, but out of my sight." I spoke in a low voice, not wanting the whole army to hear me, but I saw how my words shamed them. "Now send those with horses who want to swim into the water first. Move the packhorses onto the bridge while the rear is guarded, then the foot soldiers, no more than thirty at a time."

"Lord Otori," Kahei said. He leaped back in the saddle and galloped off down the line.

"Forgive me, Takeo," Makoto said quietly.

"Next time I'll kill you," I said. "Give me your horse."

I rode along the lines of waiting soldiers, repeating the command. "Don't be afraid of pollution," I told them. "I have already crossed the bridge. If there is any pollution, let it fall on me." I had moved into a state that was almost exalted. I did not think anything in heaven or on earth could harm me.

With a mighty shout, the first warrior rode into the water, and others streamed after him. The first horses were led onto the bridge, and to my relief it held them safely. Once the crossing was under way, I rode back along the line, issuing commands and rea.s.suring the foot soldiers, until I came to where Kaede was waiting with Manami and the other women who accompanied us. Manami had brought rain umbrellas and they stood huddled beneath them. Amano held the horses alongside them. Kaede's face lit up when she saw me. Her hair was glistening with rain, and drops clung to her eyelashes. I dismounted and gave the reins to Amano. "What happened to Aoi?" he asked, recognizing this horse as Makoto's.

"He's hurt, I don't know how badly. He's on the other side of the river. We swam across." I wanted to tell Amano how brave the horse had been, but there was no time now.

"We are going to cross the river," I told the women. "The outcasts built a bridge."

Kaede said nothing, watching me, but Manami immediately opened her mouth to complain.

I put up my hand to silence her. "There is no alternative. You are to do what I say." I repeated what I had told the men: that any pollution would fall on me alone.

"Lord Otori," she muttered, giving the minimum bob of her head and glancing out of the corner of her eye. I resisted the urge to strike her, though I felt she deserved it. "Am I to ride?" Kaede said.

"No, it's very unstable. Better to walk. I'll swim your horse across." Amano would not hear of it. "There are plenty of grooms to do that," he said, looking at my soaked, muddy armor.

"Let one of them come with me now," I said. "He can take Raku and bring an extra horse for me. I must get back to the other side." I had not forgotten the man I'd seen scuttling away. If he had gone to alert others of our arrival, I wanted to be there to confront them.

"Bring Shun for Lord Otori," Amano shouted to one of the grooms. The man came up to us on a small bay horse and took Raku's reins. I said a brief farewell to Kaede, asking her to make sure the packhorse carrying the chest of records made the crossing safely, and mounted Makoto's horse again. We cantered back along the line of soldiers, which was now moving quite quickly onto the bridge. About two hundred were already across, and Kahei was organizing them into small groups, each with its own leader.

Makoto was waiting for me by the water's edge. I gave him his horse back and held Raku while he and the groom rode into the river. I watched the bay horse, Shun. He went fearlessly into the water, swimming strongly and calmly as if it were the sort of thing he did every day. The groom returned over the bridge and took Raku from me.

While they swam across, I joined the men on the floating bridge.

They scrambled across like the rats in Hagi Harbor, spending as little time on the soggy ma.s.s as possible. I imagined few of them knew how to swim. Some of them greeted me, and one or two touched me on the shoulder as if I would ward off evil and bring good luck. I encouraged them as much as I could, joking about the hot baths and excellent food we'd get in Maruyama. They seemed in good spirits, though we all knew that Maruyama lay a long way ahead.

On the other side I told the groom to wait with Raku for Kaede. I mounted Shun. He was on the small side, and not a handsome horse, but there was something about him I liked. Telling the warriors to follow, I rode ahead with Makoto. I particularly wanted bowmen with us, and two groups of thirty were ready. I told them to conceal themselves behind the dike and wait for my signal.

Jin-emon's body still lay by the barrier, and the whole place was silent, apparently deserted.

"Was this something to do with you?" Makoto said, looking with disgust at the huge body and the display of heads.

"I'll tell you later. He had a companion who got away. I suspect he'll be back with more men. Kahei said this area was full of bandits. The dead man must have been making people pay to use the bridge; if they refused, he took their heads."

Makoto dismounted to take a closer look. "Some of these are warriors," he said, "and young men too. We should take his head in payment." He drew his sword.

"Don't," I warned. "He has bones of granite. You'll damage the blade."

He gave me an incredulous look and did not say anything, but in one swift movement slashed across the neck. His sword snapped with an almost human sound. There were gasps of astonishment and dread from the men around us. Makoto gazed at the broken blade in dismay, then looked shamefaced at me.

"Forgive me," he said again. "I should have listened to you." My rage ignited. I drew my own sword, my vision turning red in the old, familiar way. How could I protect my men if they did not obey me? Makoto had ignored my advice in front of these soldiers. He deserved to die for it. I almost lost control and cut him down where he stood, but at that moment I heard the sound of horses' hooves in the distance, reminding me I had other, real enemies.

"He was a demon, less than human," I said to Makoto. "You had no way of knowing. You'll have to fight using your bow."

I made a sign to the men around us to be silent. They stood as if turned to stone; not even the horses moved. The rain had lessened to a fine drizzle. In the fading misty light we looked like an army of ghosts.

I listened to the bandits approach, splas.h.i.+ng through the wet landscape, and then they appeared out of the mist, over thirty hors.e.m.e.n and as many on foot. They were a motley, ragged band, some obviously masterless warriors with good horses and what had once been fine armor, others the riffraff left behind after ten years of war: escapees from harsh masters on estates or in silver mines; thieves; lunatics; murderers. I recognized the man who'd fled from the hovel; he was running at the stirrup of the leading horse. As the band came to a halt, throwing up mud and spray, he pointed to me and screamed, again something unintelligible.

The rider called, "Who is it who murdered our friend and companion, Jin-emon?"

I answered, "I am OtoriTakeo. I am leading my men to Maruyama. Jin-emon attacked me for no reason. He paid for it. Let us through or you will pay the same price."

"Go back to where you came from," he replied with a snarl. "We hate the Otori here."

The men around him jeered. He spat on the ground and swung his sword above his head. I raised my hand in signal to the bowmen.

Immediately the sound of arrows filled the air; it is a fearful noise, the hiss and clack of the shafts, the dull thunk as they hit living flesh, the screams of the wounded. But I had no time to reflect on it then, for the leader urged his horse forward and galloped toward me, his sword arm stretched above his head.

His horse was bigger than Shun, and his reach longer than mine. Shuns ears were forward, his eyes calm. Just before the bandit struck, my horse made a leap to the side and turned almost in midair so I could slash my adversary from behind, opening up his neck and shoulder as he hit out vainly at where I had been.

He was no demon or ogre but all too human. His human blood spurted red. His horse galloped on while he swayed in the saddle, and then he fell suddenly sideways to the ground.

Shun, meanwhile, still completely calm, had spun back to meet the next attacker. This man had no helmet and }ato split his head in two, spattering blood, brains, and bone. The smell of blood was all around us, mixed with rain and mud. As more and more of our warriors came up to join the fray, the bandits were completely overwhelmed. Those who still lived tried to flee, but we rode after them and cut them down. Rage had been rising steadily in me all day and had been set alight by Makoto's disobedience; it found its release in this brief, b.l.o.o.d.y skirmish. I was furious at the delay that these lawless, foolish men had caused us, and I was deeply satisfied that they had all paid for it. It was not much of a battle, but we won it decisively, giving ourselves a taste of blood and victory.

We had three men dead and two others wounded. Later, four deaths by drowning were reported to me. One of Kahei's companions, s.h.i.+bata from the Otori clan, knew a little about herbs and healing, and he cleaned and treated the wounds. Kahei rode ahead to the town to see what he could find in the way of shelter, at least for the women, and Makoto and I organized the rest of the force to move on more slowly. He took over command while I went back to the river where the last of the men were crossing the floating bridge.

Jo-An and his companions were still huddled by the water's edge. Jo-An stood and came to me. I had a moment's impulse to dismount and embrace him, but I did not act on it and the moment pa.s.sed.

I said, "Thank you, and thanks to all your men. You saved us from disaster."

"Not one of them thanked us," he remarked, gesturing at the men filing past. "Lucky we work for G.o.d, not for them."

"You're coming with us, Jo-An?" I said. I did not want them to return across the river, facing who knew what penalties for crossing the border, cutting down trees, helping an outlaw.

He nodded. He seemed exhausted, and I was filled with compunction. I did not want the outcasts with me-I feared the reaction of my warriors and knew the friction and grumbling their presence would cause-but I could not abandon them here.

"We must destroy the bridge," I said, "lest the Otori follow us over it."

He nodded again and called to the others. Wearily they got to their feet and began to dismantle the cords that held the rafts in place. I stopped some of the foot soldiers, farmers who had sickles and pruning knives, and ordered them to help the outcasts. Once the ropes were slashed, the rafts gave way. The current immediately swept them into the midstream, where the river set about completing their destruction.

I watched the muddy water for a moment, called my thanks again to the outcasts, and told them to keep up with the soldiers. Then I went to Kaede.

She was already mounted on Raku, in the shelter of the trees around the fox shrine. I noticed quickly that Manami was perched on the packhorse with the chest of records strapped behind her, and then I had eyes only for Kaede. Her face was pale, but she sat straight-backed on the little gray, watching the army file past with a slight smile on her lips. In this rough setting she, whom I had mainly seen restrained and subdued in elegant surroundings, looked happy.