Shike by Robert J. Shea (the reading list txt) 📕

The captain of the guard at the bridge over the Rokuhara’s broad moat made a face of revulsion. “It is not a pleasant thing to see children buried alive, and their mothers stabbed or strangled.”

“Who orders these executions?” Jebu asked the captain, his heart filled with foreboding.

“A tribunal presided over by Lord Shima Bokuden of Kamakura and Prince Sasaki no Horigawa,” the captain answered. “They act as deputies of my lord Hideyori.”

Horigawa. At the sound of the name the hairs on the back of Jebu’s neck prickled, and his hands itched to crush the scrawny windpipe.

“Just as I told you, shik��,” said Moko. Mounted on horses, Jebu and Moko stood side by side at the entrance to the Rokuhara. Hideyori had commanded that the Takashi stronghold be rebuilt. It was now

Bakufu headquarters in Heian Kyo. The three towers of the Rokuhara stood tall and forbidding again, as they had in the days of the Takashi, except that now the banners that bedecked the upcurving roofs were white. Meanwhile, the Imperial Palace to the north was still a blackened ruin, and no Son of Heaven occupied the throne. After the Muratomo victory in Shimonoseki Strait, old GoShirakawa, the Retired Emperor, could no longer delay bestowing on Hideyori the title he craved, Shogun, Supreme Commander. The new overlord of the Sunrise Land was now deciding at his leisure which of several pliable candidates would sit on the Imperial throne.

“Is the Imperial Princess Kazuko here at the Rokuhara?” Jebu asked. He had not forgotten Atsue’s concern for his young wife.

“All members of the Imperial family are housed here under the protection of the Muratomo,” said the samurai captain. His right cheek was riven by a scar that ran from temple to jaw. He spoke with the harsh accent of the eastern provinces, but there was respect in his voice when he addressed Jebu, whom he recognized at once as the legendary shik�� who accompanied Lord Yukio in exile and in triumph.

“Is she one of those to be judged by the tribunal?”

“Yes,” said the scarred samurai. “It is said that her son is a direct descendant of that devil Sogamori. The child surely will not be allowed to live, but Prince Horigawa and Lord Bokuden are dealing with the easier cases first. Those involving the Imperial family require more delicate handling. What is your interest in the princess, shike?”

Delicate handling indeed, Jebu thought, considering that the child whose execution was being prepared was Bokuden’s own great-grandson. Not that Bokuden would care about putting a member of his own family to death. If Taniko knew what was happening, though, she might use her influence with Hideyori to win a reprieve. But it would take thirty or forty days for a message to reach Kamakura and the reply to be received. By that time the boy would probably be in a premature grave. It was necessary to act immediately.

“I was there when the Takashi noble to whom Princess Kazuko was married fell in battle at Ichinotani,” Jebu said. “I promised him that I would tell the princess how he died. Where are the Imperial ladies quartered?”

The samurai indicated one of the Rokuhara’s newly rebuilt stone towers, but added, “You should apply to the secretary of the tribunal for permission to see her.”

“There is no need. It is a small matter, and I’ll only spend a moment with her.”

“If it were anybody but you, Shik�� Jebu, I would refuse you admittance,” said the captain. “But I cannot say no to a hero of the War of the Dragons.”

“Thank you for your courtesy, captain,” said Jebu.

The scarred samurai bowed. “Nagamori Ikyu, at your service, shik��.”

“Mokosan, I’ll go on alone,” said Jebu. “Do you remember the shrine of Jimmu Tenno on Mount Higashi?”

Moko’s crossed eyes were wide with anxiety. “I can never forget it, shik��.”

“Be there with your escort, prepared to travel back to Kamakura, at the hour of the ape.” Moko had used his new wealth to hire and equip an entourage of samurai who saw to it that he was treated with proper respect despite his lack of skill at arms.

Jebu dismounted and walked his horse across the bridge over the Rokuhara’s moat, wide as a river. “The kami grant that I see you again, shik��,” Moko called. Jebu led his mount through the maze of narrow, high-walled passages designed to foil attackers. Tethering the horse before the thick stone wall at the base of the tower where the Imperial women were quartered, he strode past guards who, like Captain Ikyu, recognized him with awe. No one stopped him until he reached the second floor of the tower. There an old dragon of a lady-in-waiting, seated at a teak table piled high with scrolls, demanded to know his business. He asked for Princess Kazuko.

“What right has a mere warrior monk to request an audience with an Imperial princess?”

Jebu was amused at her ferocity. “As a disgraced member of the Imperial family, she is not so far above me.”

“She is not disgraced. She has not been judged.” Jebu sensed sympathy for the princess in the elderly woman’s tone.

“You need not protect her from me. I’m here to help her if I can.” “How can I be sure of that?”

“If I were from Lord Bokuden and Prince Horigawa, would I need permission to see the princess?”

A short time later Jebu was in a small chamber facing a shadowy figure behind a screen painted with wild roses. The lady-in-waiting sat behind him. He could hear her agitated breathing.

“I don’t understand why you want to help us. You killed Atsue.” The voice was soft, melodious, the accent cultivated.

“Your husband died in battle, Imperial Highness. It was not I who killed him. Of all the Takashi, Atsue was the one I would never knowingly kill.”

“Why?” asked the gentle voice.

“Many years ago I vowed my life to the service of Atsue’s mother, the Lady Shima Taniko.”

“Were you her lover?”

“Your Imperial Highness is quick to sense feelings.”

“But Atsue’s father was Takashi no Kiyosi.”

“Karma has forced Lady Taniko and me to spend most of our lives apart, but that has not diminished my love for her.”

“A samurai lady and a warrior monk. How very sad and how beautiful.”

Jebu brought the conversation back to the business at hand. “The fact that you are of the Imperial house will not save your son from death, princess. Horigawa and Bokuden have only to write the necessary decrees to make it legal and proper to execute the boy.” There was a whimper from behind the screen. The princess made a hushing sound.

“I’m sorry,” said Jebu. “I would never have spoken so frankly if I had known the child was there.”

“I have heard that the children of the Zinja are introduced to the fear of death at an early age,” said Princess Kazuko. “If Sametono is to live at all, he must learn to live with death. I am prepared to trust you, Zinja. If we stay here Sametono will certainly die. What do you want us to do?”

“The trick I have in mind is an old and obvious one, but it is to our advantage that they will not expect you to try to escape. After all, you have never been outside Heian Kyo. You would not even know how to speak to a common person to ask for help. You are as much a prisoner of your way of life as of the Muratomo. As for the Muratomo, their discipline is slack. They’ve been fighting for five years, and they want to rest.”

“But where can you take us?”

“To Kamakura, to the one person in the Sacred Islands who can save the boy’s life, the Lady Shima Taniko. She is the child’s grandmother and she is said to be close to Hideyori.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

There was a cry of horror from the old lady. “She is the daughter of Lord Bokuden and the wife of Prince Horigawa. Why should she of all people help the princess?”

Jebu turned to her. “She, better than anyone, knows that pair for the despicable scoundrels that they are. When she realizes that they intend to kill her grandson, she will do everything in her power to thwart them.”

“Kamakura,” the princess wailed. “That is the end of the world. Muratomo no Hideyori is there. How can we be safe in Kamakura?”

“If the Lady Taniko can persuade Lord Hideyori to place you and your son under his protection, Kamakura will be the safest place for you in all the Sacred Islands. Can you ride a horse?”

“Certainly not.”

“A pity.” He turned again to the old lady. “Can you find two trustworthy servants who will take her and the boy out of here in a sedan chair? She can wear the robes of a lady-in-waiting, and the boy can hide under her skirts.”

“Women of low rank enter and leave the Rokuhara regularly,” said the lady-in-waiting. “As you say, the guards are lax. I can supply the costume she needs and find two men who will not know whom they are carrying.”

“Good. Where the Sanjo Avenue leads to the foot of Mount Higashi there is a bridge across a small stream. I will be waiting there.”

Jebu tethered his horse at the far end of the bridge, recrossed it and seated himself on a huge boulder from which he could look out over Heian Kyo. There were so many new buildings going up that the capital reminded him of Kublai Khan’s Khan Baligh. The smell of fresh-cut wood and the ringing of hammers filled the air. Oxen strained at wagonloads of timber. It was a carpenter’s paradise. If Moko were not already rich, and if the carpenters’ guild of Heian Kyo were not so rigid about whom they allowed to work in the city, he could have made a fortune here.

It was dusk when a plain sedan chair carried by two servants emerged from the nearby Rokuhara and approached the bridge. Shouldering his naginata, Jebu stepped forward and identified himself to the bearers. He heard the princess’s frightened voice from within the chair’s curtains. But at that moment the shout of warriors’ voices and the clatter of hooves arose from within the Rokuhara’s walls.

“Over the bridge,” Jebu snapped to the bearers. “Run!”

Casting terrified looks at him, the men picked up the chair and ran for the bridge.

“Stop! Halt with that chair!” The voice that shouted at them was familiar. A band of Muratomo samurai raced across the moat and up the avenue towards them. Behind them, riding on the shoulders of a brawny, half-naked servant, was Prince Sasaki no Horigawa.

“Run!” Jebu called. But the bearers, looking back, recognized the prince and obeyed his order to stop. Jebu stood blocking the bridge. A circle of bystanders formed, a healthy distance from Jebu and the samurai. Jebu stared at Horigawa. The old prince’s face was