"Does he?" My spirits sank further.
She leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, "Someone very high ranked, I hear."
"Oh." I hid my face behind my wide sleeves as if in embarrassment but actually to hide my dismay. My father probably had chosen some withered old government minister to whom Papa owed a favor. I did not know much about political matters, but I did know that girls often found their way of life sacrificed for them.
Suzume patted my arm. "Oh, don't worry. Mama says husbands can be annoying sometimes, but they're better than starving."
"That is not a high recommendation," I said with a sigh.
Suzume shrugged. "It is if you have ever starved."
Truly the common folk see the world differently.
***
It took three days to travel from Sukaku Temple to the Imperial Capital of Heian Kyo. We stopped in small but well-kept inns along the way. Already I found myself missing my life at the temple; the sonorous chanting of the monks, the booming of the great bell. It had been so peaceful there. Now my life was about to suffer great changes once more, becoming as different as winter is from summer.
We entered the Capital through the Rasho Mon, the southernmost gate, and proceeded straight up the great thoroughfare of Suzaku Avenue. I peered out through the carriage curtain to see the tall willows lining the street and the throngs of people, on foot or on horseback or in carriages like mine. Every sound and smell reminded me I was home again.
Suzume knew the streets well from her life as a rice cake girl, and gleefully gave me a running account. "Oh, now we are passing the place where the bandit called Oni robbed five noblemen in broad daylight! Oh, and over there is Zurui, the fishmonger who always charges too much for his clams. Oh, and now we are passing the silk weavers-they always sell their worst cloth to lowly folk. They keep the best for people from the Palace. Hah! Guess I'll get to wear their finest wares after all, neh?"
She really was becoming quite tiresome. I remembered how, before my adventures began, I had lived as noble girls do: closeted behind blinds and screens, rarely leaving my father's house. I had been desperate for news of the outside world, and Suzume would sometimes come by on her rounds and tell me what she had seen. Now, however, my duties weighed so heavily upon me that such ordinary details seemed foolish, unnecessary.
Suzume isn't the only one who has changed
, I thought.
We pulled off Suzaku Avenue into the neighborhood that is known as the Third Ward. Here I became disoriented, for my father had gotten a new house after I went on pilgrimage and Mama died, so I did not know where we were going.
At last, the carriage jolted with a great bump as we passed over a gate threshold beam, and we stopped. I peered out through the window curtain in the back door. Behind us was a huge, elegant wooden gate with the Fujiwara crest on it, set into a high wall of white stone.
"We're home!" said Suzume.
But I had never lived in this house, so it was not home to me.
Our escorts unhitched the oxen and led them away, while others opened the door at the front of the carriage and helped us climb out. Suzume went first, which was proper. I had to remind myself to cover my face with my sleeves as befits a modest noble lady. Truly I had lived too long at the temple to be comfortable with courtly manners.
I was guided into a large, beautiful room. Its floors of polished cypress gleamed. It was furnished with cushions covered with gold silk, and Chinese screens depicting dragons in the clouds. All was very elegant. Here and there I recognized a go table or a carved chest that had been in my childhood home. But despite their presence, I felt like a visitor in a stranger's house. As I looked around, I realized how much I missed Mama-chan. She would not have decorated her northern pavilion like this-it would have felt more welcoming, less imposing.
The blinds were rolled up, allowing me to view one of the mansion's gardens. Close by was a cherry tree that had already lost half its leaves. No doubt it had been a splendid tree when blossoming in spring, but now it seemed rather dowdy.
I thought:
Sad is the cherry in
autumn. Sad is the
pilgrim in silk robes.
Servants hurried in to give me a feast-or what seemed like a feast after the spare food I had been used to at the temple- rice with shredded daikon root, and baked fish with carrots and garlic, and some cakes made from melon and walnuts. But I could eat very little. I was trying to plan how I would ask my father for help repairing the shrine. Surely once he knew what bad fortune would befall us if I did not, he would provide all the assistance he could.
Just then, a young boy of six or seven entered the room, brandishing a wooden sword. He looked familiar, and then I realized who he must be. "Yusho?"
He stopped and stared at me. "Who are you?"
"I am your sister Mitsuko. Don't you remember me?"
"Oh, now I remember! They told me you'd be coming."
My little brother was much changed since I had last seen him, two years before. "You've… grown."
"So have you." He plopped down beside me. "Why haven't you come to visit us in so long?"
"I have been very far away. At Sukaku Temple."
"Papa told me. Did you like it at the temple? Did they teach you fighting like the monks on Hiei-zan?"
"No." I laughed. "We learned that is not the way to the Heavenward Path."
"Heh. A temple for cowards. I'm going to join the Palace Guards when I grow up. My friend Reigi says his papa can get me a good position when I'm old enough. Then I can fight off bandits and drive away demons on New Year's!"
"I am sure you will do very well," I murmured. I imagined Yusho in a battle with Goranu, and I suspected the tengu would win. It almost made me smile.
"Your ambition is beneath you, Yusho," said our father, sweeping in, wearing his grand black robes and tall hat. "You will do better than the Palace Guards. You should plan to become a fine general one day, and lead armies."
Yusho stood up and proudly stuck out his chin. "I will if you say so, Papa-san."
"Good. Now get to your studies. I have important things to discuss with your sister."
"Yes, Papa-san." Yusho bowed and ran out of the room.
I bowed to Father, too, and said, "It is good to see you again." Suzume once told me how surprised she was at the formality in the Good People's families. But are we not taught to show respect for our elders? This is the way I have always known things, and I cannot imagine being any other way.
Papa knelt on a cushion near me. He seemed thinner than before, and though his gladness shone through his eyes, there was a tightness in his face that disturbed me. "And you, Mitsuko. I am glad to see you are well. It pleases me that you returned so soon after I sent my letter. I had been worried that your thoughts were drifting so far from worldly things that you had forgotten your family."
"I could never do that," I said, even though the strictest Buddhist teachings require that the seeker do exactly that. "It was important that I come home right away."
"Just so. You understand that your duty is important. I always knew you were a smart girl. How was your life at the temple? Did they treat you well?"
I didn't have much to tell him. Life at the temple was simple and dull-it was meant to be, so that one could concentrate on prayers and meditation.
"Well," said Papa, "your life will become much more interesting now. You will make quite an entrance at Court. I have been planning it carefully. You will be accompanied by only the finest furnishings and servants."
So much for Suzume's hopes
, I thought, a little sadly. "Papa, if you please," I said hurriedly, for I feared I might not get another chance, "there is something I must ask for before I am sent to Court."
"Of course! Ask what you will. Would you like some new kimonos? Or a specially painted screen? Perhaps a bronze Chinese mirror? Nothing shall be withheld from you."
This heartened me. I took a deep breath and stared at the floor and began. "Nothing like that, Papa. Do you remember I told you about running away with Amaiko when we were going to be taken away by Lord Tsubushima's men? And we ran off into the forest and took shelter in a kami shrine. While there, I promised the kami of the shrine that I would see that the shrine was repaired if the kami would aid us. And the tengu came, and we were rescued, but I forgot about the promise to the kami. Now the kami is angry with me and is bringing bad fortune, and I have got to see that the shrine is repaired or something terrible will happen!"
When I looked up, Papa was scowling. "What is this nonsense? What drivel did they fill your head with at the temple?"
"It is not nonsense, Papa! The priest Dento, who helped us in Tamba Province, told me so. You don't want me to bring dishonor and bad fortune on our family, do you? Surely it would be a simple thing to have the shrine repaired-it is close by the mountain lodge where Sotoko and her husband now live."
"Simple? What can you be thinking, Mitsuko? I do not own that land. It is owned by Lord Tsubushima, and he would be responsible for the shrine. I have no wish to owe him any favors by asking it of him. But you are still a child, and I should not expect you to understand the politics of the wider world. Put off these foolish thoughts. Besides, we are a Buddhist family. What have we to do with Shinto shrines?"
"Dento says that when we were the Nakatomi, Shinto was important to our family."
"That was long ago and has nothing to do with us now."
I noticed then that his hands were trembling. "What is wrong, Papa?"
"You. It is you who are wrong. I thought you understood the importance of what is expected of you, but I see I may be mistaken." He stood and began to pace the room. "We are Fujiwara. Our clan has been called 'the shadow cast by the Sun that is the Emperor.' We have served the Imperial family for centuries, our power in the Empire unwavering."
"I know this," I said softly.
He turned and glared at me. "Do you? Yet you want to go running off to temples and kami shrines when the future of your family is at stake? I see that perhaps I have been too lenient with you, and you have become stubborn and spoiled."
I became frightened by this change in him. What could possibly be disturbing him so? Were not my older sisters Amaiko and Kiwako already at Court, already in-positions for favorable marriages? Why was his anger focused on me? Or was this also a sign of the kami's curse? I bowed where I sat, placing my forehead on the cool wood floor. "Please, Papa-san, I meant no disrespect. I had no idea I could possibly be so important."
This seemed to calm him. With a sigh, he said, "That is better. Perhaps you have been so shut off from the world that you are not aware of the state of things. The position of our clan is… not as secure as it once was. Branches of our clan squabble among one another for petty promotions. Other clans, jealous of our power, are trying to slip into the cracks. Even barbarians like Lord Tsubushima have the temerity to threaten and posture from the provinces."
It was frightening to hear Papa talk like this, but I still could not imagine what such politics had to do with me.
"However, an opportunity has arisen," Papa continued. "One that we ignore to our peril. Not long ago, your uncle the Chancellor informed me of one who seeks a wife. One who is closely related to the Emperor and could possibly be in line for the Chrysanthemum Throne someday. Many families with daughters of quality will be approaching him. But we have already decided, Mitsuko, that you should be the one to marry Prince Komakai."
I sat bolt upright then, in shock. I had not been so shut off from the world as to not know who Komakai was. "But Papa, he is only ten years old!"
"Eleven, actually, and that is not an unusual age for boys of the Imperial line to look for their first wife. Don't you see, Mitsuko? It is important that you be that first wife, and that you bear him sons. If Komakai should rise to the throne, then Fujiwara blood will stay in the Imperial line. If Komakai himself does not become Emperor, it is possible one of his sons may. Things happen in this uncertain world.
"However, if you do not marry Komakai and some other noble family arranges a match, then we have lost that opportunity, among others already lost. Your failure will only add to the Fujiwara's decline." He turned his back to me and stared out through the window blinds.
"But what about Amaiko or Kiwako? They have been at Court a while and are much better skilled at courtly things than I am."
"Amaiko is too old. And Kiwako… has developed an unfortunate reputation. She is thought too frivolous. No, Mitsuko. It must be you."
I felt all my hope and courage flow out from me then. It was no wonder my father thought the shrine unimportant when the future of our family's fortunes weighed so heavily upon him. I wished I could make him see that this, too, might be the vengeance of the kami, and that would mean the shrine was of the greatest importance. But I knew he would only think me mad or possessed, and it would just upset him further. "Please forgive me, Father," I said. "I understand now."
"Good," he grumbled. "Then I will hear no more talk about shrines or any other such nonsense. Tomorrow you will move to your sister Amaiko's quarters beside the Palace, and she will teach you those customs and qualities you need to know before you are formally presented at Court. I will send word to Komakai that he will meet you soon, and, I hope, you will charm him so that he will desire no other companion but you. Think on this and prepare yourself." With no further words, he stalked from the room.