Lian Hearn - Heaven's Net Is Wide

“Someone we hope will show us where the best hawking is,” Shigeru replied, urging Karasu forward.

Their guide led them at some speed along a narrow track that eventually opened out onto a broad plain. Here the horses tossed their heads and snorted and began to gallop, and their riders let them run across the tawny plain like ships driven by the wind across the face of the sea.

Hardly a tree or a rock broke the smooth undulating surface of the plain, and the wind whipped tears into his eyes, blurring his vision, but as the horses began to slow, Shigeru could see the figure a long way in the distance, the single horseman. They drew nearer; the man raised his hand again, and as the horses, trotting now, came up the slope toward him, Shigeru saw behind him a small group of men who had set up a kind of camp in a slight depression in the plain. Cloth screens had been erected on three sides, giving protection from the wind; matting had been laid on the ground and cushions placed on it. On either side of the open space fluttered long banners emblazoned with the bear’s paw of the Arai and the setting sun of the Seishuu. Two folding stools had been prepared, and on one of these sat a young man who he assumed was Arai Daiichi. Beside him, on the ground, was Danjo, Eijiro’s oldest son.

As Shigeru dismounted, Arai stood and declared his name, then dropped to his knees and bowed to the ground. Danjo did the same. When they rose, Arai said, “Lord Otori. What a fortunate coincidence brings us to this meeting.”

His voice was warm, with a Western accent. It was hard to tell his age: he was already a big man, a little taller than Shigeru and a lot broader; his features were strong, his eyes sparkling. He radiated energy and strength.

Shigeru thought briefly of Muto Shizuka and wondered where she was now. He had half expected to see her here, since she and Arai had seemed so close.

“It’s very fortunate that you were able to meet up with an old friend,” Shigeru replied, “and a great pleasure for me that you happened to be here.”

“The hawking is excellent at this time of year. I often come to Kibi in the tenth month. You’ve met my companion, I think?”

Shigeru turned in surprise and saw Shizuka dismounting from the horse they had been following. He tried to hide his astonishment. He could not believe that someone who now appeared, despite her riding clothes, so womanly-soft, gentle even-could have fooled him into thinking she was a man. In the brief moment of dismounting, everything about her had changed-almost, he would swear, her height and size.

Arai was laughing. “You didn’t suspect it was her? She’s clever like that. Sometimes even I don’t recognize her.” His eyes caressed her.

“Lord Otori.” She greeted Shigeru demurely and bowed respectfully to Kiyoshige and Takeshi. Takeshi was trying in vain to hide his admiration.

“Lady Muto,” Shigeru said formally, honoring her, for it was obvious to him that Arai was deeply in love with her and that she held an unequaled position with him. He wondered if she loved him as much and, watching her, decided that she did. He felt a strange pang, envy perhaps, knowing that he would never allow himself to fall in love in that way and never expected to be so loved by a woman.

He suspected Arai was a man who seized what he wanted with no hesitation and no regrets. It was impossible to tell what effects his thoughtlessness would have on his character in later years, but now, in his youth, this appetite for life was an attractive quality, and Shigeru warmed to it.

“Sit down,” Arai said. “We’ve brought food from Kumamoto. You may not have tasted such things before, we are close to the coast. These are just an appetizer. Later we will cook and eat what our hawks catch for us.”

Dried roe from sea cucumber; flakes of preserved squid; unhulled rice wrapped in kelp; orange mushrooms shaped like fans, pickled in rice vinegar and salt. First they drank wine; afterward water was boiled and tea served. The conversation was general: the autumn weather, the birds of the plain that they might expect to catch; then, in response to a question from Takeshi, various matters pertaining to the sword-the best swordsmiths, the greatest teachers, the most famous fighters.

“My brother was taught by Matsuda Shingen,” Takeshi said, “and I am to go to Terayama to be instructed by him.”

“That will turn you into a man, like Lord Otori,” Arai replied. “You were very fortunate to be accepted by Matsuda,” he said to Shigeru. “It is rumored that Iida Sadayoshi invited him to Inuyama and Matsuda refused.”

“Matsuda is one of the Otori,” Shigeru replied. “There could be no reason for him to teach the Tohan.”

Arai smiled but did not make any further comment. However, at the end of the day, after they had spent the afternoon galloping across the plain in pursuit of the swift hawks with a recklessness that impressed even Takeshi, and while the birds’ prize catches of pheasant, partridge, and a couple of young hare were braising over charcoal, Arai returned to the subject of the relationship between the Otori and the Tohan.

Dusk was falling, the smoke from the fires rising in gray plumes. The western sky was still pale yellow from the last of the sunset. Shizuka, who had ridden with them with all the skill and fearlessness of a man, poured wine for them. Arai drank in the same way as he rode, with no restraint and with reckless pleasure. From time to time the woman’s hands brushed his, and a look flashed between them. Her presence disturbed Shigeru, not only for the obvious and unsettling attraction between her and Arai but also because he did not trust her.

Arai said, “Sadamu has increased his invective against the Otori, so we hear, and has taken something of a dislike to you.”

“I made the mistake of saving his life,” Shigeru replied. “He can turn any action into a studied insult.”

“And how do you intend to respond?” Arai spoke lightly, but a new seriousness had crept into the conversation, and Shigeru was aware of it. Only Kiyoshige and Takeshi sat close enough to hear. And the woman.

“Forgive me, Lord Arai, I would like to discuss my response with you, but it is a private matter for your ears only.” He glanced at Shizuka.

She sat without moving, a slight smile on her face. Arai said, “You may speak freely in front of Muto Shizuka. You are not accustomed to the way we do things in the West. You must get used to women taking part in these discussions if you are also to talk to Maruyama Naomi.”

“Am I to have that pleasure?”

“It seems she is on her way to Terayama. She is a great admirer of the work of Sesshu, both the paintings and the gardens. You will meet her there-quite by chance, of course.” Arai laughed again, seeing that his words had not quite dispelled Shigeru’s misgivings, and turned to Shizuka. “You will have to make a formal oath to Lord Otori to convince him.”

She came forward a little and said in a calm, clear voice, “Lord Otori’s secrets are safe with me. I will never reveal them to anyone. I swear it.”

“There,” Arai said. “You can trust her. I promise it.”

She touched her head to the ground before him. Shigeru had to be satisfied or risk offending Arai.

“It is true that Sadamu considers himself offended by me,” he said. “But it is convenient for him; it gives him an excuse to do what the Iida have long intended-to expand into the Middle Country at the expense of the Otori. The silver mines around Chigawa, the rich seaport of Hofu, and the fertile lands in the South all attract them. But Sadamu will not be satisfied with the Middle Country alone: he seeks to control the entire Three Countries; sooner or later he will move against the West. I believe an alliance between the Seishuu and the Otori would dissuade him in the first instance and would defeat him if it came to war.”