Heaven's Net Is Wide by Lian Hearn (good books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

The Mori residence lay a short way upstream from the lands that belonged to Shigeru’s mother, on the southern bank of the Higashigawa. It had become almost a second home to Shigeru during his boyhood: it had always been a place of quiet cheerfulness, despite the frugality and discipline of the Mori’s way of life. It saddened him now to enter the untended garden, to see the deserted stables and meadows. There were a few mares with foals at foot, and the old black stallion who had fathered Karasu but no full-grown horses, and only four two-year-old colts: two blacks, two black-maned grays.

Hiroki met them at the gate to the house, thanked them for coming, and led them across the wide wooden veranda to the main room, where his father was already sitting. Fresh flowers had been placed in the alcove and silken cushions spread on the floor for the visitors. An old man was trying to restore order to the garden, the rasp of his bamboo rake the only sound apart from the cicadas’ constant background song.

Yusuke looked calm, but he had grown very thin, and the powerful horseman’s muscles in neck and shoulder had wasted. He was dressed in a plain white robe, and Shigeru felt a pang of sorrow and regret, for the white robe signaled that Yusuke intended to kill himself and was already dressed for burial.

They exchanged deep bows, and Shigeru sat in the place of honor, his back to the alcove, looking out over the neglected garden. Yet even its wildness had a certain beauty: he could see how nature struggled to take possession of it again, the seeds sprouting where they fell, the shrubs bursting into their natural shape, escaping from the hand of man. This place of honor was no longer his, yet neither he nor Yusuke could conceive of any other way of relating to each other.

“I am very sorry for your son’s death,” he said.

“They tell me he died through the treachery of Noguchi.”

“I am ashamed to have to report it,” Shigeru said. “It is true.”

“It was terrible news,” Takeshi added. “I cannot believe my friend died in such a way.”

“And Kamome?” the old man said, for his horses were nearly as dear to him as his sons.

“Kamome was brought down by the Noguchi arrows. Kiyoshige died with his drawn sword in his hand, as if he would fight the entire Noguchi clan himself. He was the best friend anyone could have.” They sat in silence for a few moments; then Shigeru said, “You have lost both your sons to my family. I deeply regret it.”

He wanted to tell Yusuke that he intended to seek revenge, that he would wait patiently, that Iida and Noguchi would pay for Kiyoshige’s death, and his father’s… But he did not know who might be listening, and he knew he must not speak rashly. He prayed Takeshi would also keep silent.

“The lives of our entire family already belong to Lord Shigeru,” Yusuke replied. “It’s only through your wisdom and compassion that we have lived till now.” He smiled and tears shone suddenly in his eyes. “You were only twelve years old! But this is the reason I’ve asked you to come today. As I say, my life is yours. I’m asking you to release me from this obligation. I cannot serve your uncles. My only surviving son is a priest: I do not expect the river god to give him back to me. My only wish is to end my life. I seek your permission to do so and ask that you will assist me.”

“Father!” Hiroki said, but Yusuke held up a hand to silence him. “I see you have your father’s sword,” he said to Shigeru. “Use Jato on me.”

Again Shigeru felt the pull toward death. How could he take the life of this skilled and loyal man and live himself? He feared Yusuke would be the first of many-fathers who had lost their sons, warriors who had survived the battle, who would not live with the shame and dishonor of defeat. The best of the Otori would follow those already lost; the clan would destroy itself. But if he were already dead, none of this would concern him. Better perhaps to accept it, order his wife, mother, brother, to kill themselves and die himself. He could almost feel Takeshi next to him willing him to do it.

He heard the stallion neigh from the field, a sound so like Karasu’s it was as if he were hearing a ghost.

“We need more horses,” he said. “I will release you from your obligations to me-indeed your son, Kiyoshige, has paid all debts many times over-but I have one more request to make of you: that you will build up the horse herds before you leave us.”

He could think of nothing that would better restore the clan’s pride and spirit than to restore their horses.

The stallion neighed again, and one of the colts answered, echoing, challenging its father.

“I’d have to travel to look for some,” Yusuke said. “We won’t find any in the Three Countries for a while; the horses of the West are too small and too slow, and the Tohan certainly won’t help us.”

“Father used to talk, in the past, of the horses of the steppes,” Hiroki said. “Didn’t Father always wish to travel to the mainland and see them for himself?”

“The horses from the edge of the world,” Yusuke murmured. “Fiercer than lions, faster than the wind.”

“Bring back some of them as your last service to the Otori,” Shigeru said.

Yusuke sat in silence for many long moments. When he spoke, his voice, which had been so firm before, was broken. “It seems I put on my funeral robe prematurely. I will obey you, Lord Shigeru. I will live. I will go to the edge of the world and bring back horses.”

The tears that he had not shed before were now coursing down