A Tale of False Fortunes (18 page)

“Yes, but . . . his majesty’s feelings are not merely a matter of
Chapter Five
c
115

bargaining. He seems to have become truly weary of always being afraid of offending this person or that, and of not being able to live freely and without constraint, as he would like.”

“That’s because he is unable to see your face whenever he wants to. Since you live apart, he hears nothing but unpleasant things.” What Takaie was referring to was the time recently when the empress consort had departed from the palace, and the officials who ought to have accompanied her were not available because they were all clamoring to attend Michinaga on his trip to Uji. The emperor had been displeased that his beloved empress consort and prince should be subjected to such rude treatment.

“I mustn’t let such things bother me. Even his majesty wrote a letter urging me to forget about the matter.”

“That’s because you occupy the position of victor,” Takaie said with a laugh.

“How am I a victor? I’m the very incarnation of Po Chü-i’s line, ‘The sun sets on a forlorn shadow.’”

“No, I don’t think so at all. Both Korechika and I lost miserably in our battle with our uncle, but you alone have won.

His best efforts, even presenting his virgin daughter at court, could not succeed in wresting his majesty’s affections away from you. . . .”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. The lady of the Fujitsubo Pavilion may still be very young, but I think she has the ability eventually to capture his majesty’s feelings.”

“In the future, I suppose. But you know, now that I think about it, after our father died five years ago, you did the right thing in refraining from putting too much pressure on the emperor to appoint our brother as regent. At that time you were the only one able to resist the empress dowager. And yet, if you had done so you might have become another power-hungry noblewoman, like Yang Kuei-fei or Empress Wei of T’ang, but you surely would not be able to experience the joy that’s yours now of believing in the love of just one person, no matter how lonely and defenseless you might be. You sacrificed our family’s glory and clung steadfastly to that one person’s sincere devotion.”

116
c
A Tale of False Fortunes

“That may be true,” Teishi nodded compliantly. It would only seem disagreeable to assume a false humility in front of her keenly perceptive younger brother. “Of all the happiness in this world, I don’t really know which is the greatest. But I don’t think, as our older brother and our nurses do, that the past was happy and that our present circumstances are unhappy. There are times when I think about the little prince and princess and wonder how it would be if our father were still alive. But then, we all have our various fates, and we can’t extricate ourselves from them by our own power. Even though I’ve never talked about such feelings, I suppose that the only one who really understands them is Shònagon [Sei Shònagon], who is often despised as being too forward.” Then the empress consort smiled calmly and added, “It seems lately that my body has grown considerably weaker, and I have no idea when I shall leave this world. But even after I die, I at least do not intend to become an evil spirit full of cursings and malice toward others.

You’ll probably live a long life, so after I’m gone, please see how things go, all right?”

Takie answered, laughing, “I understand. I don’t believe that you have that sort of vindictiveness in you either.” Not many days after this conversation had taken place, Kureha disappeared from Narimasa’s mansion without saying a word to anyone. Since her clothing and personal effects had been left as they were, it was rumored among the ladies-in-waiting attending the empress consort that perhaps she had been spirited off. Teishi herself surmised, however, that Kureha probably had eavesdropped on her conversation with Takaie and decided of her own accord to leave.

“Wouldn’t she have gone into hiding at the house of Imperial Police Yukikuni? Yukikuni comes to this house occasionally to do guard service for your highness. Shall we try asking him?” Though quite out of character for him, the master of the house, Narimasa, made this suggestion, having heard all of the rumors about the love affair. The empress consort, however, told him just to leave the matter alone and made no attempt to have Kureha’s whereabouts investigated.

Chapter Five
c
117

Soon after that, at the urging both of the Higashisanjò empress dowager and Michinaga, Teishi took the prince and princess and returned to court, presenting herself at the apartments of the empress’ household.

The Fujitsubo empress had left to visit her parental home, and the emperor was able without reservation to shower his affection on the empress consort and to dote upon Prince Atsuyasu even more than he had done for the first princess.

The empress consort had become much thinner than the last time she had returned to the Nijò mansion. She had such a fragile appearance about her that it seemed as if she might melt away if one were to embrace her. There was not a trace, however, of any concealed melancholy, and she appeared genuinely to enjoy being with the emperor.

One spring evening, when the cherry trees in the front garden were in spectacular bloom, the emperor summoned Teishi to his daytime quarters where he played his favorite flute to the accompaniment of her Japanese
koto.
Cherry blossoms were scattering thick and fast in the breeze, and some petals came fluttering inside the bamboo blinds from beyond the balustrade.

They landed on Teishi’s glossy black hair and on her quickly moving, slender fingers, darting across the strings like white fish as she played her
koto.

Just then, Michinaga was sauntering along the veranda.

When he came to the corner of the balustrade he sent his attendant back and drew closer to the bamboo blind in order to listen to the performance without interference. There he became absorbed in the music. Not having heard the sound of the empress consort’s
koto
for some time, Michinaga was surprised at what a clear, wonderful tone her fingers drew from the strings. What agitated his heart, though, were the clearly differentiated feelings of pensive melancholy and suddenly soaring joy in the tone of the emperor’s flute, quite different from anything Michinaga had heard in the Fujitsubo Pavilion. Had he been an uncouth type ignorant of music, Michinaga would probably have felt nothing at hearing this performance, but his own accomplishment at both the
koto
and the flute made him very perceptive to the supreme bliss of the emperor’s and
118
c
A Tale of False Fortunes
Empress Consort Teishi’s exclusive love for one another, as expressed in the music they made together.

“Well, your excellency, what are you doing standing outside in a place like that?” When a lady-in-waiting to the emperor crossed the connecting corridor and addressed him in a surprised tone, Michinaga was startled out of his complex state of mind. He answered good-naturedly, “Shh, be quiet! The performance by the emperor and empress consort is interesting, and I’m trying to listen secretly.”

At that, the music inside stopped abruptly, and the emperor’s voice could be heard to say, “Has the regent come . . . here?”
Michinaga entered the room, and Teishi drew a curtain
toward her, partially concealing herself. She did not retreat
deeply within the curtains, however, and on her smoothly
flowing hair, with not so much as a single strand out of
place, scattered cherry blossom petals could be seen, like
chips of gilding on a lacquered box. Over a robe as white
as maidenflower blossoms she wore an overgarment of
light green. Her crimson divided skirt spread out before
her, giving her an extraordinarily refined appearance. Even
to the Lord Regent’s eyes, which had seen and compared
countless women of high rank—including, of course, his
own sister, the Empress Dowager—the Empress Consort
seemed infinitely more graceful and charming, and he did
not wonder that the Emperor should be madly in love with
her. Michinaga’s own daughter, whom he was accustomed
to seeing as well-featured in her childhood, seemed imma-ture by comparison. If only Teishi were not on the scene,
then in five or six years His Majesty’s heart would begin to
soften and he would become intimate with the Regent’s
daughter. But now Teishi quite occupied the Emperor’s
august heart, and the two of them were able to perform
music together happily and quite naturally. However, it
was after this time that a plan formed in the Regent’s mind
to move the Empress Consort out of the way.

In this manner,
A Tale of False Fortunes
relates the immediate cause of Michinaga’s initial concoction of a second strategy.

Chapter Five
c
119

Chapter Six
c

As Empress Consort Teishi continued to live at court with the emperor, once again her periods stopped and she became vio-lently ill with morning sickness. She grew thin, and it was decided at the end of the third month that she should return to Imperial Steward Narimasa’s house. The emperor felt apprehensive about having her and his children stay there long and tried to arrange for them to stay at the Sanjò mansion belonging to the empress dowager, but he was unable to do so.

Even in appointing stewards or priests to perform prayers, the emperor knew there would be many requests from the empress consort to which he would not respond for fear of offending Michinaga. He enlisted the services of a certain priest on whom he had relied since childhood and ordered incantations and prayers, hoping anxiously that all would go according to plan. It was all very different from either of the previous births.

In spite of all this, the empress consort maintained a cheerful appearance. She seemed, nevertheless, as fragile as a flower beaten by the rain. At the sight of her, the emperor was plagued by the inescapable anxiety that this might turn out to be the ultimate parting. He wanted to summon Korechika and Takaie to ask that they keep an attentive watch over their sister and her children, but he restrained himself, realizing that summoning them to his presence after their return from exile—and having had no public dealings with them otherwise—would only be worse in the long run for the empress consort.

With the return of the young empress to the palace that summer, the Fujitsubo Pavilion was suddenly bustling with activity.

Such events as the Star Festival and the moon-viewing banquets were celebrated in a more spectacular manner than usual, with
120
c
A Tale of False Fortunes
poetry and music to grace the festivities. However, at about the time autumn winds began to blow, the new empress complained that she did not feel well; she had a fever and seemed to be in distress. Michinaga and everyone in her service treated it as a matter of grave concern to the whole realm and spared no effort in caring for her, calling on doctors and commissioning incantations and prayers.

The emperor also went to the Fujitsubo Pavilion daily to inquire after her condition. Ordinarily she seemed older than her actual years, but in her illness she cried like a little girl, saying she wanted to go home. At such times she seemed so very juvenile and pitiable to the emperor.

Here again, an evil spirit appeared to be taking advantage of her weakened condition, haunting her bedchamber and obstructing her recovery. The late grandfather of the empress consort, Takashina no Naritada, had turned into a most dreadful ghost, raging furiously about the altar where rites were being performed for the empress’ recovery. A young boy not yet wearing a court cap was possessed by this spirit. His voice was hoarse, but it had the power of a grown man, and freely mixed into the curses he uttered were phrases reflecting both Chinese and Japanese erudition. The ghost’s relentless cursings and denunciations seemed to horrify Michinaga, who actually had known Naritada.

In reality, though, it was not clear whether this ghost of Naritada was genuine or merely a fraud devised by a living person.

According to the author of
A Tale of False Fortunes,
a politician of Michinaga’s stature can, without so much as moving a finger, weave into the cumulative fabric of events strange tricks that would never occur to an ordinary person, and thereby easily turn things to his own advantage.

Eventually, another spirit would appear that had the manners and speech of the empress consort, but according to
A Tale of
False Fortunes,
it was not Teishi’s living ghost. It was, rather, a reenactment of the role Ayame of Miwa had played some years earlier when the empress dowager was suffering such distress.

After that incident, Ayame had left the empress dowager’s
Chapter Six
c
121

service and had spent her time either rusticating at the old nun’s cottage or serving at Michinaga’s residence, the Tsuchimikado Palace. Since then, she was estranged from her sister, Kureha, and the two had not seen each other for two or three years.

Kureha had come to the nun’s cottage in about the sixth month.

After suffering for half a month through the chills and fevers of what seemed to be a case of ague, she sent a letter to her elder sister expressing a desire to meet. Ayame accordingly set out without delay to the nun’s place near the North Mountain.

Kureha was lying down in an inner room. Ayame was surprised to see that her sister’s once-youthful cheeks—normally so plump and with a vermilion-like ruddiness about them—were now hollow and wan, as if she had just been exhumed from a grave.

“I was shocked to hear of your illness and came to see you.

After your scathing denunciation of me some years ago, I haven’t felt worthy to call myself your sister, but not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t thought of you. Mother asked us to stay close throughout our lives. I’m happy that my heart’s wish has been fulfilled, and we can meet like this. . . .” She took her younger sister’s emaciated hand in her own, and tears trickled down her cheeks as she spoke.