Lian Hearn - Heaven's Net Is Wide

The fifth book in the Tales of the Otori series, 2007

For R

Heaven’s net is wide but its mesh is fine.

The Clans

THE OTORI

Otori Shigeru: heir to the Otori clan

Otori Takeshi: his younger brother

Otori Shigemori: his father, lord of the clan

Otori Masako: his mother

Otori Shoichi: his uncle

Otori Masahiro: his uncle

Otori Ichiro: Shigeru’s teacher

Chiyo: head maid of Lady Otori’s household

Otori Eijiro: head of a branch family

Otori Eriko: his wife

Otori Danjo: his son

Harada: one of Shigeru’s retainers

Komori: a Chigawa man, “the Underground Emperor”

Haruna: owner of the House of the Camellias

Akane: a famous courtesan, daughter of the stonemason

Hayato: her lover

Yanagi Moe: Shigeru’s wife

Mori Yusuke: the Otori horsebreaker

Mori Yuta: his oldest son

Mori Kiyoshige: his second son, Shigeru’s best friend

Mori Hiroki: his third son, who becomes a priest

Miyoshi Satoru: an elder of the clan

Miyoshi Kahei: his older son, Takeshi’s friend

Miyoshi Gemba: his younger son

Irie Masahide: the sword instructor to the Otori boys

Kitano Tadakazu: lord of Tsuwano, an Otori vassal

Kitano Tadao: his oldest son

Kitano Masaji: his second son

Noguchi Masayoshi: an Otori vassal

Nagai Tadayoshi: the senior retainer at Yamagata

Endo Chikara: the senior retainer at Hagi

Terada Fumimasa: head of the Hagi fishing fleet

Terada Fumio: his son

Matsuda Shingen: a former warrior, now a priest, later the Abbot of Terayama

THE SEISHUU

Maruyama Naomi: head of the Maruyama clan

Maruyama Mariko: her daughter

Sugita Sachie: her companion, Otori Eriko’s sister

Sugita Haruki: senior retainer to the Maruyama, Sachie’s brother

Arai Daiichi: heir to the Arai clan at Kumamoto

THE TOHAN

Iida Sadayoshi: lord of the Tohan clan

Iida Sadamu: his son, heir to the clan

Miura Naomichi: a Tohan sword instructor

Inaba Atsushi: his retainer

The Tribe

Muto Shizuka: Arai’s mistress

Muto Zenko:

Muto Taku: their sons

Muto Kenji: Shizuka’s uncle, head of the Muto family, friend to Shigeru

Muto Seiko: his wife

Muto Yuki: his daughter

Kikuta Kotaro: Shizuka’s uncle, head of the Kikuta family

Kikuta Isamu: his cousin, one of the Tribe

Bunta: a groom

The Hidden

Sara: Isamu’s wife

Tomasu: their son

Shimon: Sara’s second husband

Maruta: their older daughter

Madaren: their younger daughter

Nesutoro: an itinerant priest

Mari: his niece

Horses

Karasu: Shigeru’s black

Kamome: Kiyoshige’s black-maned gray

Raku: Takeshi’s black-maned gray

Kyu: Shigeru’s second black

Kuri: a very clever bay

The footfall was light, barely discernible among all the myriad noises of the autumn forest-the rustle of leaves scattering in the northwesterly wind, the distant beating of wings as geese flew southward, the echoing sounds of the village far below-yet Isamu heard it and recognized it.

He put the digging tool down on the damp grass, along with the roots he had been collecting, and moved away from it. Its sharp blade spoke to him and he did not want to be tempted by any tool or weapon. He turned in the direction of his cousin’s approach and waited.

Kotaro came into the clearing invisible, in the way of the Tribe, but Isamu did not bother concealing himself in the same fashion. He knew all his cousin’s skills: they were almost the same age, Kotaro less than a year younger; they had trained together, striving always to outdo each other; they had been friends, of a sort, and rivals their entire life.

Isamu had thought he had escaped here in this remote village on the eastern borders of the Three Countries, far from the great cities where the Tribe preferred to live and work, selling their supernatural skills to whoever paid them highest and finding plenty of employment in these times of intrigue and strife among the warriors. But no one escapes the Tribe forever.

How many times had he heard this warning as a child? How many times had he repeated it to himself, with the dark pleasure that the old skills induce, as he delivered the silent knife thrust, the twist of the garrote or, his own preferred method, the poison that fell drop by drop into a sleeping mouth or an unprotected eye?

He did not doubt that it echoed through Kotaro’s mind now as his cousin’s shape came shimmering into sight.

For a moment they stared at each other without speaking. The forest itself seemed to fall quiet, and in that silence Isamu thought he could hear his wife’s voice far below. If he could hear her, then Kotaro could, too, for both cousins had the Kikuta gift of far-hearing, just as they both bore the straight line of the Kikuta that divided the palm of the hand.

“It took me a long time to find you,” Kotaro said finally.

“That was my intention,” Isamu replied. Compassion was still unfamiliar to him, and he shrank from the pain it awakened in his new born heart. He thought with regret of the girl’s kindness, her high spirits, her goodness; he wished he could save her from grief; he wondered if their brief marriage had already planted new life in her and what she would do after his death. She would find comfort from her people, from the Secret One. She would be sustained by her inner strength. She would weep for him and pray for him; no one in the Tribe would do either.

Following a barely understood instinct, like the birds in this wild place that he had come to know and love, he decided he would delay his death and lead Kotaro far away into the forest; maybe neither of them would return from its vastness.

He split his image and sent his second self toward his cousin, while he ran swiftly and completely silently, his feet hardly touching the ground, between the slender trunks of the young cedars, leaping over boulders that had tumbled from the crags above, skimming across slippery black rocks below waterfalls, vanishing and reappearing in the spray. He was aware of everything around him: the gray sky and damp air of the tenth month, the chill wind that heralded winter, reminding him that he would never see snow again, the distant throaty bellow of a stag, the whir of wings and the harsh calls as his flight disturbed a flock of crows. So he ran, and Kotaro followed him, until hours later and miles from the village he had made his home, Isamu allowed his pace to slow and his cousin to catch up with him.

He had come farther into the forest than ever before; there was no sun. He had no idea where he was; he hoped Kotaro would be as lost. He hoped his cousin would die here in the mountains on this lonely slope above a deep ravine. But he would not kill him. He who had killed so many times would never kill anyone again, not even to save his own life. He had made that vow, and he knew he was not going to break it.