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

“Come, I’ll show you around,” Terada said, and leaving the men to prepare the nets and baskets, they scrambled over the rocks and followed a rough track up the side of the mountain.

“Does no one live here?” Shigeru asked, looking around, when they paused for breath about halfway up. He raised his eyes and looked toward the coast. Hagi lay to the east, lost in the haze.

“It’s known as the entrance to hell,” Terada replied. “I like to encourage that reputation. The fewer people who come here, the better. Do you want to bathe? Take care, the water is scalding.”

They both stripped off, and Shigeru slid carefully into the pool, his skin turning red instantly. Terada could not help grunting as the water hit his powerful frame.

They sat half submerged for a few moments without speaking; then Terada said, “You weren’t wounded in the battle?”

“Just a cut in the scalp. It’s healed now, my hair covers it.”

“Unh.” Terada grunted again. “Forgive me-and shut me up if I’m speaking out of turn-but you will not always be so retiring and so patient?”

“Indeed I will,” Shigeru replied. “I have withdrawn from power and politics. I am interested only in my house and lands.”

Terada was gazing at him searchingly. “I know this is what people say, but there are still many who hope secretly…”

Shigeru interrupted him. “Their hope is futile, and so is our discussing it.”

“But this journey?” Terada persisted.

“It is of a religious nature,” Shigeru replied, allowing an earnest note to creep into his voice. “I have been told of strange visions and apparitions at this shrine. I will spend a few nights alone there and see if anything is revealed to me. Apart from that, I am interested in your work, your knowledge of the sea and its creatures, as well as the opinions and welfare of your men. And I like traveling.”

“You don’t have to worry about my men,” Terada replied. “They do what I tell them, and I look after them!” He chuckled and gestured to the land around the pool. “This is where I would build my house if I lived on Oshima. You can see all the way to Hagi, and no one would ever draw you out.”

“Is this your island, then?”

“If I am the only one who dares to come to Oshima, then it belongs to me,” Terada said. “It’s my bolt-hole. If your uncles get too greedy, I’ll not stay in Hagi and pay for their luxuries.” He glanced at Shigeru and muttered, “You can tell them that, I don’t care, but I’ll not tell them your secrets.”

“I will speak to them about the fairness of the taxation system,” Shigeru said. “To be frank, it has already concerned me. But your other secrets are safe with me.”

When they had dressed again and descended to the quay, the men had lit fires and prepared food. By midday they were again aboard; Terada had cushions placed on the high deck in the stern, and Shigeru reclined on these, half dozing, as the flowing tide carried the vessel toward the coast, the sail flapping in the breeze, the charms and amulets tinkling on the mast, the messenger pigeons cooing gently in their bamboo baskets.

Terada’s son came and sat beside him with one of the tortoise-shell-colored cats that sailors believe bring good luck, showed him how to tie knots for nets with a piece of resined cord, and related stories about kindly dragons and magic fish, every now and then leaping to his feet when he spied a flock of seabirds or a school of fish. He was an attractive boy, plumpish, robust, very like his father.

The sun was low in the sky by the time they came to shore. Its light turned rocks and sand golden. They had seen no boats out at sea, but here, close to the coast, several tiny craft were bobbing in the water. The fishermen seemed both hostile and afraid at the sight of Terada’s ship, and Shigeru suspected some earlier encounter might have turned violent.

“This is where Katte Jinja is,”Terada said, pointing toward the shore, where the shrine’s roof could be seen between twisted pine trunks. “You don’t have to worry about these people; they won’t hurt you.”

There was something more than the usual scorn in his voice, and Shigeru raised his eyebrows.

“They are Hidden,” Terada explained. “So they will not kill, not even to defend themselves. You will find them interesting, no doubt.”

“Indeed,” Shigeru said. “I might even question them about their beliefs.”

“They will tell you nothing,” Terada said. “They will die rather than disclose or forswear them. How long will you stay?” he questioned as his men prepared to lower Shigeru over the side into the thigh-deep water.

For the rest of my life, he wanted to reply, but instead said vaguely, “I suppose three nights of apparitions will be enough.”

“Three nights too many, if you ask me.” Terada laughed. “Expect us at this time four days hence.”

The sailors gave him a basket of rice cakes and salted fish, and Shigeru took his own bundle of clothes, holding these over his head, along with Jato, as he waded ashore.

At the top of the beach were a few hovels; women and children sat outside them, tending fires around which small fish were drying on bamboo racks. They stopped what they were doing and bowed their heads without speaking as Shigeru walked past. He glanced at them, noting that the children, though thin, looked healthy enough, and that several of the women were young and not ill-looking. They all looked tense, ready to bolt, and he thought he could guess the reason-the presence of Terada’s predatory, unprincipled men. No doubt, missing their own women, the sailors took these, knowing their husbands would not fight to defend them. He resolved to speak to Terada about it. These were her people. It was wrong that men from his clan should prey on them.

Like Seisenji, the shrine seemed abandoned, neglected.