Lian Hearn - Heaven's Net Is Wide

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The new beginning-and the grand finale-to the beloved Tales of the Otori series.
Heaven's Net Is Wide is the new first volume of the now complete Tales of the Otori- prequel to Across the Nightingale Floor, the book that first introduced Hearn's mythical, medieval Japanese world. This is the story of Lord Otori Shigeru-who has presided over the entire series as a sort of spiritual warrior-godfather-the man who saved Takeo and raised him as his own and heir to the Otori clan. This sweeping novel expands on what has been only hinted at before: Shigeru's training in the ways of the warrior and feudal lord, his relationship with the Tribe of mysteriously powerful assassins, the battles that tested his skills and talents, and his fateful meeting with Lady Maruyama.
Heaven's Net Is Wide is an epic tale of warfare, loyalty, love, and heartbreak. This book leaves off where Across the Nightingale Floor begins, finally bringing the Otori series full circle. And while it both completes and introduces the Tales of the Otori, it also stands on its own as a satisfying, dramatic novel of feudal Japan.

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“I am in my own country. I am heir to my clan. I can speak any way I like!”

“How old are you?” Iida demanded.

“I am fully adult. I made my coming of age this year.”

“Well, I’ve heard of you. You fought Miura…”

“It was a fair fight!” Shigeru interrupted.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, though it suits us to present it otherwise. I am sure Otori Shigeru would never do anything ignoble.”

The sneer in his voice made the blood rise in Shigeru’s face. He fought to control his temper, realizing intuitively that the only way to deal with Iida was through self-control, calmness, and courtesy.

“I was told that you were handsome,” Sadamu went on. “But good-looking boys grow up to be weak men. They are spoiled by too much attention when they are young. If you are the best the Otori can produce, I don’t think we have anything to fear.”

Shigeru could not help being amazed by the man’s effrontery-alone, unarmed, surrounded by enemies, Sadamu was self-confident enough to be deliberately insulting.

“The man who saw me fall-you hold him too?”

Shigeru nodded in assent.

“Bring him to me.”

“He is still at the place where Lord Iida fell. He will join us tomorrow.”

Shigeru heard a murmur from the men who surrounded them of anger at the insulting tone, anger in response to Iida’s rage. He knew it would take only a word from him-less, a single gesture-and Iida’s life would be over. Yet he would not kill an unarmed man; nor would he take any action that would bring on war before the Otori clan was fully prepared.

If Iida was aware of his own vulnerability, he gave no sign of it. He appeared to accept the situation and wasted no more time or energy struggling against it. He stretched out beside the fire, adjusted a rock under his head for a pillow, and seemed to fall instantly asleep.

Shigeru could not help admiring his equanimity: there was no doubt Iida Sadamu was a courageous man and a formidable enemy. He had already seen the evidence of his ruthlessness and his cruelty.

He sat up with the guards keeping watch. None of his men slept much, apart from Komori, who was exhausted by the rescue. They shared Shigeru’s restlessness, as though they had captured a tiger or a bear that might suddenly attack them and rip them apart. It was a soft, mild night, the constellations blazing across the vault of heaven. Just before dawn there was a shower of falling stars that made the men gasp and caused the superstitious among them to clasp their amulets. Shigeru thought about Heaven, and the gods and spirits that ruled the lives of men. He had been taught that the test of government was the contentment of the people. If the ruler was just, the land received the blessings of Heaven. He wanted to ensure justice throughout the Middle Country, to realize his vision of his fief as a farm. Yet men like Iida seized power and dominated those around them by sheer force of will, their desire for power unhindered by compassion or the desire for justice. You either shared their view and submitted to them in return for their protection or opposed them by meeting their will with your own and by being stronger. He was grateful for this strange meeting. He would never forget that he had seen Iida Sadamu naked and powerless.

They rose at first light, as larks called their morning song, and prepared the horses, ate a sparse meal of cold food, and departed. Iida rode Komori’s horse, ropes tied to its bit and held by warriors on either side lest he attempt to escape, while Komori himself ran at Shigeru’s stirrup, guiding them back through the treacherous country.

After an hour they came to the Ogre’s Storehouse. The men who had spent the night there were prepared for departure. The Tohan man stood beside the horses, holding the bird perch with the hawks still on it. Hungry, they raised their feathers and called piercingly.

When the man saw Iida, he tried to bow to the ground without letting go of the birds, his movements made clumsy by fear.

“Bring the birds,” Iida commanded from the horse. The man rose and went to him, holding the perch so that it was level with his lord’s chest. Iida seized one bird in his bare hands. It struggled and screamed, trying to slash with beak and talons. He broke its neck and threw it to the ground, then killed the second in the same way. This he threw directly in the face of his retainer.

No one spoke. No one would plead for the man’s life. He was Tohan: Iida could do with him what he wanted. The man laid the perch down in the grass, his movements no longer awkward but almost graceful in their deliberation. He undid his overgarments-he had already taken off his leather armor-and said quietly, “I ask you to give me back my sword.”

The Otori warriors led him away from Iida to the edge of the pit. Afterward they threw the body down.

“Ogre’s breakfast,” one of them said. The birds lay in the dust, the brightness fading from their plumage. They already had ants in their eyes.

IRIE AND KIYOSHIGE were surprised to see them return so soon and even more astonished when they learned the identity of their companion.

“Lord Iida Sadamu has had a terrible experience,” Shigeru said. “He was lucky to escape death. He will be our guest while he recovers.”

He explained briefly what had happened and accompanied Iida to the best room in the inn, treating him with exaggerated courtesy and insisting that the highest-quality clothes and food be supplied. He made sure Iida was well guarded; then he himself bathed and changed his own clothes, dressing with great care in formal robes and having a barber come to shave his face and head and dress his hair.

Then he conferred with Irie and Kiyoshige. “Since Lord Kitano is on his way here, I think it would be pleasant for him to see his sons. I intend to ask Sadamu to send letters to Inuyama requesting their presence. Once they are here and Kitano has formally reaffirmed his loyalty, we will escort Lord Iida to the border.”

“We should get assurances that the border violations will cease,” Kiyoshige said. “I can’t believe he fell into your hands like this! What a stroke of luck.”

“We will-but there is no guarantee that he will keep his word, and we cannot hold him for long. Irie, have a doctor come and tend to him. He can testify that Sadamu is too weak to travel.”

“Weak is hardly a word you would use to describe Sadamu!” Kiyoshige said, grinning.

After another explosion of rage, Sadamu gave in and wrote to his father. Within a week, Tadao and Masaji arrived in Chigawa; they were reunited with their father, Lord Kitano, the following day. All three of them made solemn declarations of allegiance in Sadamu’s presence, and Sadamu himself undertook to maintain the borders and prevent any more incursions into Otori territory. The doctor pronounced Sadamu fit to travel, and Shigeru accompanied him to the border, where he was met by a large force of Tohan warriors. Their faces were grim beneath their helmets, and they did not speak to or even acknowledge the Otori contingent. The leaders leaped from their horses to prostrate themselves before Sadamu, expressing their joy and relief at his return. He spoke to them sharply, ordering them to remount immediately and not to delay their departure any longer.

Once the horsemen had splashed across the river that marked the border, several of them turned to wave their swords and jeer at the Otori. Bows were armed and raised in reply, but Shigeru spoke swiftly to forbid retaliation.

“Not even a word of thanks!” he observed as Sadamu and his retainers galloped away.

“You have made an enemy,” Irie replied.

“He is Tohan: We were born enemies.”

“But now he hates you personally. You saved his life and he will never forgive you for it.”

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