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

He went to the privy to relieve himself, and then, calling for two guards to come with him, walked from the residence through the inner courtyard to the castle gatehouse.

It could hardly be called a castle, though the foundations and the moat walls were of stone. Lying in the heart of the Middle Country, Yamagata had never come under attack and was not built to be defended. Shigeru thought about this as he crossed the bridge over the moat. The residence buildings were all wooden. They stood behind walls and strong gates, but he saw how easily they could be taken. Iida Sadamu was said to be building himself a mighty castle at Inuyama. Should the Otori be fortifying their towns in the same way? It was something else to discuss with Nagai.

It was about the second half of the Hour of the Boar. There was no moon, but the constellations of stars were brilliant in the cold clear night. There was a hint of frost in the air, the men’s breath was visible, and a slight mist rose from the surface of the water. On the bank, bulrushes emerged like lances, and the willows’ long branches, now almost bare, were wreathed in the pale vapor.

The town was quiet, most people already asleep. Only a few inns and pleasure houses still had lamps outside, their glow warm orange. From inside came sounds of music, women singing, men laughing, their voices made loud by wine.

The Todoya was built on the riverbank, its verandas extending out over the water; long boats were moored beneath them, and lanterns hung on the corners of the eaves and on the ends of the boats. Braziers had been carried onto the verandas, and several people sat outside, wrapped in animal pelts, enjoying the brilliance of the autumn night. There were two of Kiyoshige’s men outside the main entrance; when they recognized Shigeru, one of them called inside to a maid to fetch Kiyoshige, while the other knelt to unfasten Shigeru’s sandals.

Kiyoshige appeared, gave him a knowing smile, and led him to a room at the back of the house. It was a private room, reserved for special guests, spacious and comfortable, warmed by two charcoal braziers, though the doors were open onto the garden. The night was windless. Water trickled from a fountain, echoing slightly like a bell. Occasionally there was a rustle as a leaf detached itself and fell.

A young woman, around seventeen years of age, knelt beside one of the braziers. She was small, but not slight and fragile like his wife. Her limbs were strong, almost muscled, and beneath her robe her body was compact and firm. She bowed to the floor when he entered the room, and sat up when Kiyoshige told her to. She kept her eyes down, and her whole demeanor was modest and refined, but Shigeru suspected it was partly assumed. His suspicions were confirmed when she glanced at him, met his gaze, and held it. Her eyes were extraordinarily sharp and intelligent. She is more than she seems, he thought suddenly. I must be very careful what I say.

“Lord Otori,” she said. “It is a great honor.” Her voice was soft, also refined, her language formal and courteous. Yet she was in a house of pleasure: he could not place her. “My name is Shizuka.”

Again he sensed disguise: the name meant tranquillity, yet he felt this woman was far from tranquil. She poured wine for him and Kiyoshige.

“You are from Kumamoto, I believe,” he said, as though making idle conversation.

“My mother lives there, but I have many relatives in Yamagata. My family name is Muto. Lord Otori may have heard of them.”

He recalled, from Nagai’s records, a merchant of that name, a manufacturer of soybean products, he thought, and could even place where the house was.

“You are visiting your relatives, then?”

“I often come to Yamagata for that purpose.” She glanced at Kiyoshige and dropped her voice. “Forgive me, Lord Otori, if I come closer. We do not wish to be heard by the wrong people.” She shuffled toward him until they sat knee to knee. He could smell her fragrance and could not help thinking how attractive she was; her voice when she spoke had not lost its feminine note, but her speech was direct and matter-of-fact, like a man’s.

“Your relative, Otori Danjo, came to Kumamoto two weeks ago. He is the same age as Lord Arai’s eldest son, Daiichi. They met at Maruyama when they were boys. Both were taught by Sugita Haruki. But I expect Lord Otori is already aware of this.”

“Of course I knew Danjo’s mother is from the Sugita family. I did not know he was already acquainted with Arai Daiichi.”

“He and Danjo were happy to see each other again; and Lord Arai was very pleased to have such good news of Lord Otori’s health. I am also closely acquainted with Lord Arai,” Shizuka went on. “That is why I am here. I come at his request.”

Closely acquainted? What did she mean? Were they lovers? Was she Arai’s acknowledged mistress, as Akane was his? Or was she a spy, sent by Iida to trap him into revealing his plans?

“I hope I will have the pleasure of meeting Lord Arai himself,” he said noncommittally. For a moment he felt like the Otori symbol, the heron, peering into opaque water, waiting for something to move that he might stab at it.

She gazed at him frankly for a long moment, then reached into the folds of her robe and took out a small roll of paper. “I have a letter from him. He accompanied Danjo back to Kibi, just across the border.”

He took the note and unrolled it, seeing the vermilion seal with the Arai characters.

“Lord Arai says he had heard that I am in Yamagata and invites me to visit him, since he is, by coincidence, in Kibi,” he said to Kiyoshige. “He suggests we go hawking on Kibi plain.”

“Hawking is a very popular pursuit,” Kiyoshige