Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate (2 page)

Kanemore watched them disappear before he put his sword away. “That, too, was impressive. But pointless. You should have let me kill him. One less provincial thug swaggering about the city. Who would miss him?”

I sighed. “His lord, for a start, who would demand an explanation. The man’s companion would say one thing and we would say another, and justice ministers would become involved and there would be time spent away from the matter at hand that I don’t think we can afford. Or am I mistaken?”

Kanemore smiled. “I must again concede that you are not. I’m beginning to see why my honored sister has summoned you. May your lack of error continue, for all our sakes.”

The South Gate to the Imperial Compound was closest, but Kanemore led me to the East Gate, which was guarded by
bushi
in the red and black Taira colors, one of whom I recognized as the messenger’s other escort. They stood aside for Kanemore and no questions were asked.

We weren’t going to the Palace proper. The Imperial Compound covered a large area in the city, and there were many smaller buildings of various function spread out through the grounds, including houses for government officials and some minor palaces. Other palaces and mansions such as the Sanjo Palace, which had given Teiko’s father his nickname, were scattered throughout the city itself.

Considering our destination, it was clear we needed to attract as little attention as possible; Kanemore led me through some of the more obscure garden paths. At least, they were obscure to other people. I remembered most of them from my time at Court. Losing access to the gardens was one of two regrets I had about leaving the Court.

Princess Teiko was the other.

Kanemore escorted me to a fine, large house; a small palace actually, and quite suitable for the widow of an Emperor. A group of very well-dressed and important-looking visitors were leaving as we arrived, and we stepped aside on the walkway to let them pass. There was only one I recognized in the lamplight before I kneeled as courtesy demanded: Fujiwara no Sentaro, Deputy Minister of the Right and current Minister of Justice. It seemed only fitting—my one visit to the Compound in close to fifteen years and I
would
encounter my least-favorite person at the Imperial Court or probably anywhere else, now that I considered the matter. The coldness of Kanemore’s demeanor as they walked by wasn’t exactly lost on me either. If Sentaro recognized me, he gave no sign. Possibly he’d have forgotten me by now, but then a good politician did not forget an enemy while the enemy still drew breath.

“I gather Lord Sentaro is not in your favor?” I asked after they had gone.

“To call him a pig would be an insult to pigs,” Kanemore said bluntly. “But he is the Minister of Justice, a skilled administrator, and has our Emperor’s confidence. The gods may decree that he becomes Chancellor after Lord Yorimichi, as both his birth and luck seem to favor the man. My sister, for some reason I cannot fathom, bears his company from time to time.”

I started to say something about the realities of court life but reconsidered. While the saints teach us that life is an illusion, Sentaro’s presence indicated that, sadly, some aspects of life did not change, illusion or not. We climbed the steps to the veranda.

“Teiko-hime is expecting us,” Kanemore said to the
bushi
flanking the doorway, but clearly they already knew that and stepped back as we approached. A servant girl pulled the screen aside, and we stepped into a large open room, impeccably furnished with bright silk cushions and flowers in artful arrangements, and lit by several paper lanterns. There was a dais on the far wall, curtained-off, and doubtless a sliding screen behind it that would allow someone to enter the room without being seen.

I had hoped to at least get a glimpse of Teiko, but of course that wasn’t proper. I knew the rules, even if I didn’t always follow them. Kanemore kneeled on a cushion near the dais, and I followed his example.

“My sister has been informed—” he started to say but didn’t get to finish.

“Your older sister is here, Kanemore-kun.”

Two more maids impeccably dressed in layered yellow and blue
kimonos
entered the room and pulled back the curtain. A translucent veil remained in front of the dais. I could see the ghostly form of a woman kneeling there, her long black hair down loose and flowing over her shoulders. I didn’t need to see her clearly to know it was the same woman who had brought the message to me in the courtyard, whose face I had not seen then, either. No need—the way she moved and the elegance of a gesture, both betrayed her. Now I heard Princess Teiko’s voice again, and that was more than enough.

Kanemore and I both bowed low.

There was silence, and then that beautiful voice again, chiding me. “A
donkey,
Lord Yamada? Honestly . . . ”

I tried not to smile, but it was hard. “My poetry is somewhat . . . unpracticed, Teiko-hime.”

“Teiko, please. We are old friends.”

At this Kanemore gave me a hard glance, but I ignored him. Formidable as he was, Kanemore was no longer the most dangerous person in my vicinity, and I needed all my attention for the one who was.

“I think there is something you wish to discuss with me,” I said. “Is this possible?” It was the most polite way I knew to phrase the question, but Teiko waved it aside.

“There is no one within hearing,” she said, “who has not already heard. You may speak plainly, Lord Yamada. I will do the same—I need your help.”

“You have read my answer,” I said.

“True, but you have not heard my trouble,” Teiko said softly. “Listen and then tell me what you will or will not do. Now then—do you remember a young Fujiwara named Kiyoshi?”

That was a name I had not heard in a long time. Kiyoshi was about my age when I came to the Court as a very minor official of the household. Since he was handsome, bright, and a Fujiwara, his destiny seemed fixed. Like Kanemore, he chose the somewhat disreputable
bushi
path instead, and died fighting the northern barbarians. He was one of the few of that clan I could tolerate, and I sincerely mourned his death.

“I do remember him,” I said.

“There is a rumor going around the Court that Kiyoshi was my lover and that my son Takahito is his issue, not my late husband’s.”

For a moment I could not speak. This matter was beyond serious. Gossip was close to the rule of law at Court. If this particular gossip was not silenced, both Takahito’s and Teiko’s positions at Court were in peril, and that was just for a start.

“Do you know who is responsible for the slander?”

“No. While it’s true that Kiyoshi was very dear to me, we grew up together at Court and our affections to each other were as brother and sister, as was well understood at the time. You know this to be true.”

I did, if I knew anything. “And you wish for me to discover the culprit? That will be . . . difficult.”

She laughed softly then, decorously covering her face with her fan even though the veil prevented me from seeing her face clearly. “Lord Yamada, even if I knew who started the rumors, it would do little good. People repeat the gossip now without even knowing from whom they heard it. What I require now is tangible and very public proof that the rumors are false.”

I considered. “I think that will be difficult as well. The only one who could swear to your innocence died fifteen years ago. Or am I to pursue his ghost?”

She laughed again. The sound was enchanting, but then everything about her was enchanting to me; there was a reason Princess Teiko was the most dangerous person in that room. I found myself feeling grateful the screen was in place as I forced myself to concentrate on the business at hand.

“Nothing so distasteful,” she said. “Besides, Kiyoshi died in loving service to my husband, the late Emperor, and on the path he himself chose. If he left a ghost behind, I would be quite surprised. No, Lord Yamada, Kiyoshi left something far more reliable—a letter. He sent it to me when he was in the north, just before . . . his final battle. It was intended for his favorite and was accompanied by a second letter for me.”

I frowned. “Why didn’t he send this letter to the lady directly?”

She sighed then. “Lord Yamada, are you a donkey after all? He couldn’t very well do so without compromising her. My friendship with Kiyoshi was well known; no one would think twice if I received a letter from him in those days. In his favorite’s case, the situation was quite different. You know the penalty for a Lady of the Court who takes a lover openly.”

I bowed again. I did know, and vividly: banishment or worse; yet, for someone born for the Court and knowing no other life, there probably
was
nothing worse. “Then clearly we need to acquire this letter. If it still exists, I imagine the lady in question will be reluctant to part with it. Who is she, if it is not indiscreet to ask?”

“Her name was Taira no Hoshiko, not that this is of consequence now. The letter was never delivered to her.” Teiko raised her hand to silence me before I even began. “Do not think so ill of me, Lord Yamada. News of Kiyoshi’s death reached us months before his letter did. By then my husband had given the wretched girl in marriage to the Lord of Hizen province as reward for some service or other, and I did not wish to risk complicating her new position. Since Kiyoshi’s letter was not intended for me, I never opened it. I should have destroyed it, I know, but I could not.”

“That decision was perhaps foolish but potentially fortunate. Though I presume there is a problem, or I would not be here?”

“The letter has been stolen, Lord Yamada. Without it I have no hope of saving my reputation and my son’s future from the crush of gossip.”

I let out a breath. “When did you notice the letter was missing?”

“Lord Sentaro says it disappeared three days ago.”

Now I really didn’t understand, and judging from the grunt to my immediate right, neither did Kanemore. “What has Lord Sentaro to do with this?”

“He is the Emperor’s Minister of Justice. In order to clear my reputation I had to let him know of the letter’s existence, and arrange a time for the letter to be read and witnessed. He asked that it be given to him for safekeeping. Since he was also Kiyoshi’s uncle, I couldn’t very well refuse.”

She said it so calmly, and yet she had just admitted cutting her own throat. “Teiko-hime, as much as this pains me to say, the letter has surely been destroyed.”

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the veil for several seconds, then she simply asked, “Oh? What makes you think so?”

I glanced at Kanemore, but there was no help from that direction. He looked as confused as I felt.

“Your pardon, Highness, but it’s my understanding that the Fujiwara have their own candidate for the throne. As a member of that family, it is in Lord Sentaro’s interest that the letter never resurface.”

“Lord Sentaro is perhaps overly ambitious,” Teiko said, and there was more than a hint of winter ice in her voice. “But he is also an honorable man. He was just here to acquaint me with the progress of the search. I believe him when he says the letter was stolen; I have less confidence in his ability to recover it. Lord Yamada, will you help me or not?”

I bowed again and made the only answer I could. “If it lies within my power, I will find that letter for you.”

Kanemore and I did not speak again until we had taken our leave of Princess Teiko. Kanemore was the first to break the silence.

“That,” he said after we had passed through the eastern gate, “was very strange.” The man had, besides his martial prowess, quite a gift for understatement.

“You didn’t know about the letter?”

“Teiko never mentioned it before, though it doesn’t surprise me. Yet . . . ”

“The business with the Minister of Justice does surprise you, yes?”

He looked at me. “Since my sister trusts you, I will speak plainly—Lord Sentaro is Chancellor Yorimichi’s primary agent in the Fujiwara opposition to Takahito. If I had been in Lord Sentaro’s place, I would have destroyed that letter the moment it fell into my hands and danced a tribute to the Gods of luck while it burned.”

I rubbed my chin. “Yet Teiko-hime is convinced the letter was not destroyed.”

Kanemore grunted again. “Over the years I’ve gone where my Emperor and his government have required. My sister, on the other hand, knows no world other than the Imperial Court. If Teiko were a
koi,
the Court would be her pond, if you take my meaning. So why would something that is immediately obvious to us both be so unclear to her?”

“Perhaps we’re the ones who aren’t clear,” I said. “Highness, let’s assume for that moment that your sister is right and that the letter was simply stolen. That would mean that Lord Sentaro had a good reason for not destroying it in the first place.”

“That makes sense. Yet I’m having some difficulty imagining that reason,” Kanemore admitted.

“As am I.”

I looked around. Our path paralleled the river Kamo for a time, then turned southwest. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were a few people on the road, apparently all in a rush to reach their destinations. Demons were about at this time of night, and everyone’s hurry and wariness was understandable. Kanemore and I were the only ones walking at a normal pace by the light of the setting moon.

“Your escort duties must be over by now and, as I’m sure you know, I’m used to moving about the city on my own,” I said.

Kanemore looked a little uncomfortable. “It was Teiko’s request. I know you can take care of yourself under most circumstances,” Kanemore said, and it almost sounded like a compliment, “but if someone
did
steal the letter, they obviously would not want it found, and your audience with my sister will not be a secret. Sentaro himself saw you, for one.”

“I didn’t think he recognized me.”

“I would not depend on that,” Kanemore said drily. “The man forgets nothing. His enemies, doubly so.”

“You flatter me. I was no threat to him, no matter how I might have wished otherwise.”

“If I may be so impolite as to ask, why did you resign your position and leave the Court? It could not have been easy to secure the appointment in the first place.”