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

had escaped, run away and hidden; they returned when they saw the Otori crest. A rough stretcher was made for the injured man, and two men carried him on foot while the rest rode, leading their horses and three others whose masters had died during the clash with the Tohan. A narrow stony track led from the hill along the side of the cultivated fields, following the course of the stream. The water babbled and sparkled in the torchlight; frogs were croaking among the reeds. The summer evening air was soft and caressing, but Shigeru’s mood was dark as they approached the village, and the sight of the destruction there angered him still more deeply. The Tohan had crossed the border and come deep into Otori land. They had tortured people who, whatever their beliefs, were Otori, and who had been unprotected by their own clan. He regretted that he had not acted earlier, that these attacks had not been punished before. If the Otori had not appeared so weak and indecisive, the Tohan would never have grown so bold. He knew he had been right to come, right to engage in the brief battle, but at the same time he was aware that the deaths of the Tohan warriors, especially those of Honda and Maeda, would enrage the Iida family and worsen relations between the two clans.

Grief and distress hung over the village. Women wept as they brought water and prepared food. Fifteen of their community had died-it must have been close to half-neighbors, friends, relatives.

Shigeru and his men were given makeshift accommodations within the small shrine, sitting under the carved figures and the votive pictures. The armor from the dead Tohan was presented to the shrine. The priest’s wife brought water to wash their feet, then tea made from roasted barley. Its pungent smell made Shigeru realize how hungry he was. It did not look as if much food would be available; he tried to put all thoughts of eating away. The gratitude of the villagers, the warmth of the welcome in the midst of suffering, only increased his unease, though he gave no outward sign of it, sitting impassively as the headman knelt before him to give his account.

“Every village from here as far as Chigawa has been attacked,” he said bitterly. He was a man of about thirty, blind in one eye but otherwise healthy and strong-looking. “The Tohan act as if this were already their land, exacting taxes, taking whatever they please, and trying to eradicate the Hidden as they do in Iida’s own domain.”

“Already?” Shigeru questioned.

“Forgive me, Lord Otori, I should not speak so bluntly, but polite lies don’t help anyone. Everyone fears the Iida plan to attack the Middle Country once they’ve unified the East. This must also be known in Hagi. For months we have been asking ourselves why no help comes, if we will be handed over to the Tohan by our own lords.”

“To what domain do you belong?”

“To Tsuwano-we send rice every year, but we are so far from them-only you and your father can save us. Help must come directly from Hagi. We thought you had already forgotten us. And anyway, Lord Kitano’s sons are in Inuyama.”

“I know it,” Shigeru replied, fighting to master his anger. Kitano’s ill-considered decision to send his sons to the Tohan capital had proved a fatal weakness in the Otori position. The boys were hostages in all but name: no wonder their father took no action on the eastern borders. Shigeru feared his former companions might pay for his attack with their lives, but the fault did not lie with him. It had been their father’s decision to send them away, a decision that Shigeru already regarded as near-treachery. If the outcome was the death of his sons, it would be no more than justice.

“If this sect fled from the East, they should be returned there,” Kiyoshige said, for no one was free just to walk away from their own land.

“It is true that some of the Hidden are from the East,” the headman replied. “But most have always lived here in the Middle Country and are of the Otori clan. The Tohan lie about them as they lie about everything.”

“They live among you, peacefully?”

“Yes, and have done so for centuries. Outwardly they act the same as any of us. That is why they are called the Hidden. There are a few differences. We worship many gods and honor them all; we know we have salvation through the grace of the Enlightened One. They worship the one they call the Secret One, and they will not take life. They will not kill either themselves or others.”

“Yet they seem courageous,” Kiyoshige observed.

The villager nodded in agreement. Shigeru felt the man had more to say on this matter, but something held him back, some other tie or loyalty.

“You know the man who survived, Nesutoro?”

“Of course. We grew up together.” After a pause, he swallowed hard and said, “My wife is his sister.”

“You are one of them?” Kiyoshige exclaimed.

“No, lord, I have never been a believer. How could I? My family have been heads in this village for generations. We have always followed the teachings of the Enlightened One, and we honor the gods of the forest, the river, and the harvest. My wife does the same, but secretly in her heart she worships the Secret One. I forbade her to declare the truth openly, like those who died. She had to trample on their sacred images…”

“What are they?” Shigeru asked.

The man shifted uncomfortably and stared at the floor. “It is not for me to say,” he said finally. “Speak to Nesutoro. He will know if he can tell you or not.”

“So you saved your wife’s life?” Irie had been silent till now, watching and listening carefully.

“She is not dead, nor are our children; but she does not thank me for it. She obeyed me, as a wife should, but she feels she disobeyed the teachings of