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

has already enraged Lord Iida and his son,” his father’s older brother said pointedly. “It was reported-of course, we know there is no truth in it-that you insisted on challenging Lord Miura but were overcome by him, and Matsuda struck him from behind to save your life.”

“Who dares to spread such lies?” Shigeru said in fury. “I fought Miura alone. Inaba was there as a witness.”

“It does not suit the Tohan to see one of their warriors bested by an Otori,” Shigemori said. “Especially not by you, the heir to the clan.”

“They will seize on any pretext to be insulted,” Shigeru replied. “They think they can intimidate us by threatening war. We should give them war, now, before they subvert our allies and become even stronger.”

But his uncles’ counsel of appeasement prevailed. Apologies for Miura’s death were sent to Inuyama, together with gifts in compensation. Many in the clan were as outraged as Shigeru and, in the Otori way, songs and stories began to circulate about what really happened in the forest encounter when the fifteen-year-old Otori heir defeated the best swordsman the Tohan had ever produced. Shigeru deplored this exaggeration as much as the Tohan’s distortion, but there was nothing he could do about either.

He tried many times to speak to his father, but though Shigemori listened to him and praised his opinions, the head of the clan seemed unable to take action or even make decisions. He consulted endlessly-with his brothers, with the elders, and more disturbingly with priests, shamans, and soothsayers, who all came forward with conflicting ideas and beliefs about which gods were offended and how to placate them. During Shigeru’s absence, Shigemori had become increasingly religious. Ever since Takeshi’s near-drowning, he had been apprehensive about the stone bridge he had commanded to be built, and as it neared completion, he feared some other act of retaliation from the affronted river god. The offering, he thought, would also allay the fears of the townspeople who still viewed the bridge as a kind of sorcery.

Shigeru had spent the last year absorbing the austere teachings of Terayama, emptying his mind of illusions, vain desires, and fantasies; he did not believe either prayers or spells had any effect or would move any being in the cosmos in any way. If religious belief had any role to play in human life, he thought, it was to strengthen the character and the will so that a man might be ruled by justice and compassion, and might face death without fear. He was impatient with his father’s preoccupation with auspicious days, dreams, amulets, and prayers, a preoccupation that led to vacillation and inaction. And he was angered by the unnecessary sacrifice of the stonemason, both for its cruelty and its waste of talent. The bridge was a marvel; there was surely nothing like it in the Three Countries. He could see no reason for its creator to be put to death in such a fashion, entombed alive.

He said nothing about these feelings and watched the proceedings impassively, but the single sharp cry from the stonemason’s daughter moved him. Kiyoshige, the son of Mori the horsebreaker, had returned to his service; the two young men had resumed their close friendship. Mori Kiyoshige was lively and irrepressible by nature, and as he matured, he used this exterior to mask an extremely astute mind. If his brother had not died, he might have turned into a typically irresponsible second son, but Yuta’s death had tempered and strengthened him. During Shigeru’s absence, he had kept an eye on Takeshi and had become a close friend to the younger boy. They were similar enough in character to enjoy many escapades, and Kiyoshige’s good sense kept the more headstrong Takeshi out of trouble. The circumstances of their childhood, Kiyoshige’s older brother’s death, their shared love of horses, formed strong bonds between them. It was under Kiyoshige’s supervision that Takeshi rode Shigeru’s black stallion, and it was Kiyoshige who carried the boy home concussed after falling. But Takeshi learned to ride the black, and indeed to master any horse, and when Shigeru returned, another colt was presented to the castle to be Takeshi’s own.

Kiyoshige was precocious and popular, had many friends and acquaintances from all walks of life, and drank a great deal more than a boy his age should, but he always remained far less drunk than he appeared and never forgot what was said to him. His position as the horsebreaker’s son and friend to Lord Otori’s sons, and his own taste for lowlife, meant he moved freely through many different levels of the city’s society. He talked to people and, more important, listened to them, and he had a whole range of information-nothing to do with the official spy system maintained by the castle or with the sporadic attempts of Tohan spies to infiltrate the Otori-by whom he was kept aware of everything that went on in Hagi.

Kiyoshige knew all the gossip of the city, and that evening when they were alone together, Shigeru asked him about the woman.

“The family should receive some compensation-they must not become destitute. Arrange something for them, but let no one know about it.”

Kiyoshige smiled. “You have been away. You don’t know who she is?”

Shigeru shook his head.

“Her name is Akane. She is a woman of pleasure-perhaps the most famous in Hagi at the moment.”

“Where does she work?”

“The place on the slopes of Fire Mountain -the House of the Camellias. It’s owned by a woman called Haruna.” Kiyoshige laughed and said slyly, “Do you want to visit her?”

“Of course not! I was only concerned for the family’s well-being.” But he could not help remembering how he had felt at Terayama, how he had longed to escape to Yamagata and have women sent to him. His father had said a concubine would be arranged, but so far the matter had not been attended to.

He had thought he had mastered his desires during the long, cold winter, but now the thought of Akane