Brilliance of the Moon Read Free

woman, Chiyo, and the
rest of the household at Hagi. I was tormented by the thought that the house no
longer existed, that it would have been burned: the tea room, the upper room
where we had so often sat looking out onto the garden, the nightingale floor,
all destroyed, their song silenced forever. I wanted to rush to Hagi to claim
my inheritance before it was taken from me. But I knew this was exactly what
the Otori hoped I would do Five farmers died outright and two died later from
their wounds. We buried them in the temple graveyard. Two of the horses were
badly hurt, and Amano had them killed mercifully, but the other two were
unharmed; one I liked in particular, a handsome black stallion that reminded me
of Shigeru’s horse, Kyu, and could have been its half brother. At Makoto’s
insistence we buried the Otori warriors with full rites, too, praying that
their ghosts, outraged at their ignoble deaths, would not linger to haunt us.
    That evening the abbot came to the guest room and we talked until
late into the night. Makoto and Miyoshi Kahei, one of my allies and friends
from Hagi, were also with us; Kahei’s younger brother Gemba had been sent to
Maruyama to tell the domain’s senior retainer, Sugita Haruki, of our imminent
departure. Sugita had assured Kaede the previous winter of his support for her
claim. Kaede did not stay with us—for various reasons, she and Makoto were not
at ease in each other’s presence and she avoided him as much as possible— r but
I told her beforehand to sit behind the screen so she could hear what was said.
I wanted to know her opinion afterward. In the short time since our marriage I
had come to talk to her as I had never talked to anyone in my life. I had been
silent for so long, it seemed now I could not get enough of sharing my thoughts
with her. I relied on her judgment and her wisdom.
    “So now you are at war,” the abbot said, “and your army has had
its first skirmish.”
    “Hardly an army,” Makoto said. “A rabble of farmers! How are you
going to punish them?”
    “What do you mean?” I replied.
    “Farmers are not supposed to kill warriors,” he said. “Anyone
else in your situation would punish them with the utmost cruelty. They would be
crucified, boiled in oil, flayed alive.”
    “They will be if the Otori get hold of them,” Kahei muttered.
    “They were fighting on my behalf,” I said. Privately, I thought
the warriors had deserved their shameful end, though I was sorry I had not
killed them all myself. “I’m not going to punish them. I’m more concerned with
how to protect them.”
    “You have let an ogre out,” Makoto said. “Let’s hope you can
contain it.”
    The abbot smiled into his wine cup. Quite apart from his earlier
comments on justice, he had been teaching me strategy all winter and, having
heard my theories on the capture of Yamagata and other campaigns, knew how I
felt about my farmers.
    “The Otori seek to draw me out,” I said to him, as I had said
earlier to Kaede.
    “Yes, you must resist the temptation,” he replied. “Naturally
your first instinct is for revenge, but even if you defeated their army in a
confrontation, they would simply retreat to Hagi. A long siege would be a
disaster. The city is virtually impregnable, and sooner or later you would have
to deal with Arai’s forces at your rear.”
    Arai Daiichi was the warlord from Kumamoto who had taken
advantage of the overthrow of the Tohan to seize control of the Three
Countries. I had enraged him by disappearing with the Tribe the previous year,
and now my marriage to Kaede would certainly enrage him further. He had a huge
army, and I did not want to be confronted by it before I had strengthened my
own.
    “Then we must go first to Maruyama, as planned. But if I leave
the temple unprotected, you and the people of the district may be punished by
the Otori.”
    “We can bring many people within the walls,” the abbot said. “I
think we have enough arms and supplies