Shike - Robert J. Shea (best finance books of all time .TXT) 📗

permitted to run loose in the palace. Have him punished.”

Taniko was about to point out that the dog belonged to one of Her Imperial Majesty’s senior ladies, but she realized that the Empress probably knew that and preferred not to acknowledge it. Did Sadako want the dog destroyed? Taniko decided it would be best to get the animal out of sight and not to ask any more questions.

But, she thought as she hurried out of the Wisteria Hall with Li Po in her arms, if she had Akimi’s dog killed, she would make a permanent enemy of Domei’s mistress, who already, regrettably, had reason to dislike her. Besides, she liked the little dog. He lay in her arms calmly and trustingly. At the foot of the Wisteria Hall’s steps, she looked about her. In the distance a group of officers of the palace guards were playing football in front of the Hall of Military Virtues.

The game was an ancient favourite with male nobles. A circle of men tried to keep a soft leather ball in the air as long as possible, solely by kicking it. Taniko approached them. She knew a few of the guard officers slightly, and one of them might have an idea about what to do with the dog.

Once again Taniko thanked her karma that she was serving at the Court, where she was permitted to go and talk to anyone, man or woman, face-to-face. It must be maddening to spend all one’s days and nights hiding behind a screen or fan as noble ladies who lived at home did.

One of the football players was Domei. That gave her an idea.

Domei must have been at least ten years older than any of the other men playing, but he had the greatest energy and enthusiasm. He played competitively, trying to keep the ball to himself, kicking it out from under the noses of the other players, aiming his kicks so close to their heads that they were forced to back off. The men playing with him laughed heartily at each new display of Domei’s aggressiveness.

Taniko waited until there was a break in the game, then diffidently beckoned Domei. The captain came to her at once and bowed.

“Lady Taniko, how may I serve you?” If he felt any hostility towards her because of her husband, he didn’t show it.

His breath steamed on the winter air. Muratomo no Domei was a tall, broad-shouldered man with the dark complexion of one who spent most of his time outdoors, an unfashionable colour at a Court where men and women powdered their faces to make themselves even paler. His forehead was high and bulging. All his hair was shaved away except for the lock on top neatly tied in the samurai topknot. His large head gleamed with perspiration. His big moustache drew attention to his most unfortunate feature, protruding front teeth.

Taniko explained about the Empress’s wish to punish the dog. She didn’t bother to point out that it was Akimi’s pet. She was sure Domei recognized it.

“Frightening Her Imperial Majesty’s cat is a grave offence. I will take charge of the prisoner.” He took the dog from her hands and held him, stroking his head.

“What are you going to do with him, captain-san?” Taniko asked uncertainly.

“Well, the palace guards use stray dogs for archery practice.” Shocked, Taniko put a hand to her mouth.

“Would you like to witness the execution, my lady?”

“No, no.”

Taniko’s impression of the Muratomo was still coloured by the uncouth oryoshi Jebu had killed last year on the Tokaido. But that man wasn’t a member of the Muratomo family, just one of their paid supporters. Domei seemed pleasant and kindly enough, although his manners did lack the refinement one found in members of the old families of the capital. Taniko didn’t believe Domei would really kill Akimi’s dog.

Everyone said the Muratomo were dreadfully crude, but Domei was undoubtedly an excellent choice for the post of captain of the palace guard. He was obviously a born fighter, as different from the stout, moon-faced courtiers as a falcon is from a partridge.

When it came to military glory there were more legends about the Muratomo family than any other. They had migrated to the eastern provinces centuries before to build up their fortunes. There they spearheaded the opening up of the rich rice lands of the Kanto plain, driving the savage hairy Ainu before them. Their patron kami was Hachiman, god of war, and one Muratomo general who won dazzling victories was called Hachiman’s Oldest Son.

In the last century the Muratomo had quelled two of the most dangerous rebellions ever raised against the crown, the Early Nine Years War and the Later Three Years War. Ill-mannered the Muratomo might be, but they were peerless warriors.

Lady Akimi returned to the Wisteria Hall a day later. Her eyes were red with weeping, and several times she burst into unexplained tears in the presence of the Empress.

Sadako was a kind-hearted woman who couldn’t stand to see any of her ladies unhappy. But try as she could, it was almost impossible for her to persuade Akimi to tell her what was wrong.

Only when the the Empress herself began to cry did Akimi answer her insistent questions. “Oh, Your Majesty, I’ve heard that the captain of the Imperial bodyguard has shot my little dog, Li Po.”

The Empress looked away uneasily. “I had not heard that.”

“Oh yes, Your Majesty. But what really makes me weep is that Li Po displeased you. Killing him was the only thing to do.”

“I didn’t order your dog executed, Akimi-san,” the Empress said pleadingly. She turned to Taniko. “Please send for Captain Domei.”

Domei came quickly and prostrated himself before the Empress. She asked him what happened to the dog.

“As I told the Lady Taniko, Your Majesty, I felt that the only proper punishment for a dog that frightened Your Imperial Majesty’s cat was to let it be used as a target for mounted archery practice.”

“Barbarous,” the Empress exclaimed. “You have caused great pain to one of my most esteemed ladies. I am very angry with you, Captain Domei.”

Domei lowered his head. “I ask that Your Imperial Majesty order me beheaded in expiation.”

Sadako winced. “Please, Captain Domei. There has been quite enough killing. Just leave us now. There is nothing more you can do.”

Domei left. But later in the day he returned and presented the Empress with a little brown dog that looked to be Li Po. He insisted, however, that the dog wasn’t Li Po.

“I believe this to be the reincarnation of Li Po,” Domei said. “By a special blessing of the kami we have him back among us.” Akimi hugged the dog.

“How can this be the reincarnation of the other dog when it is obviously the same age as that dog?” the Empress asked.

“I wouldn’t pretend to know, Your Majesty,” Domei said. “I’m not a very religious man.” Seated in a corner of the room, Taniko hid her smile behind her fan.

The Empress said, “Might it not be simpler to say that this is that dog and that you did not kill it?”

“But that would mean I had disobeyed Your Majesty,” said Domei. “As it is, the dog has been disposed of as you ordered, but we have another dog and the Lady Akimi is happy.”

“Do the two of you imagine you are tricking me?” Sadako asked sternly.

Akimi immediately fell to her knees and pressed her forehead against the floor. “No, Your Majesty, never. We regret that we have disturbed your harmony with this matter of the dog. Dogs.”

The Empress dismissed them. The new dog, which Akimi called Tu Fu, was accepted as a resident of the Wisteria Hall.

The next day Akimi came to Taniko’s chamber. She was about ten years older than Taniko and one of the most beautiful women Taniko had ever seen, with large eyes and a face shaped in a perfect oval.

“Domei and I want to thank you for your kindness. If you had given my little Li Po to anybody but him, I might have lost him for ever. Li Po is a favourite pet of our son, Yukio, and he would have been heartbroken if anything had ever happened to him.”

Taniko bowed. “I was very grateful for the opportunity to be of service to you, Lady Akimi. May I say also that you are a marvellous actress?”

Akimi laughed. She held out a package wrapped in silk. “I would like you to have this. It is a small gift, compared to the life of a beloved pet, but I hope you will enjoy it.”

Taniko unfolded the silk cloth and found a book bound in red leather.

“This is the first volume of a very long story called The Tale of the Hollow Tree,” said Akimi. “It was written about two hundred years ago by an official of the Court. This particular copy was presented to me by my mother. Both the calligraphy and the illustrations have always given me much pleasure.”

“Thank you,” said Taniko, opening the book and admiring a delicately tinted painting of a weeping woman. “I don’t deserve this.”

Akimi looked grave. “Domei and I believe that you wanted to show friendship for us. We do not have many friends in the Court, and none among the members of your family. Forgive me for mentioning it, but there is undying enmity between Domei and your husband.”

“I know,” said Taniko. “And of course, I have a duty of absolute loyalty to my husband. But where duty does not compel me, I believe I can pick my friends as I choose. I should be deeply honoured to be counted among your friends, as far as that is possible.”

Akimi looked at her gravely. “Karma brings many surprising turns to our lives. We will think of you as a friend. Whatever happens.”

Later, reading the book Akimi had given her, Taniko let her eyes wander from the page. She was happy that her gesture of friendship had been accepted, but there was an ominous note in Akimi’s voice when she said, “Whatever happens.” Domei was obviously a proud man, and he had lived a long time with heavy grievances. Was the apparent serenity of the Court, Taniko wondered, actually the heavy silence that comes before an earthquake?