ericlustbader.the ninja-第94章
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it?'
'Yes。'
'Well; once upon a time there was a lady。 She lived in a castle in Roku…No…Miya。 Where that is no one knows to this day …that's just how my mother used to say it。 Anyway; after this girl's parents died; she was brought up by a governess … she was an extremely well protected girl … and; as the years passed; she grew up into a beautiful young woman。
'One evening she was introduced to a man and; every evening after that; he would e to the castle and she would entertain him until gradually the place took on a festive air。
'But during the long afternoons; while she was alone walking in her gardens; the lady thought of the power of fate。 She thought about being dependent upon this man for her happiness。 Then she would shrug her shoulders and smile wanly into the sun。
'At night she would lie awake beside her lover; neither happy nor unhappy。 What satisfaction she could possess was fleeting。
'But then; one day; even this was to end; for her lover informed her solemnly that he must go with his father to another district to assist him in his new political post。 〃But;〃 he said; 〃the assignment is but for five years。 At the end of that time I shall return for you。 Please do me the honour of waiting for me。〃
'The lady openly wept; perhaps not from love itself but from the idea of separation。
'In six years; nothing was the same at the lady's castle in Roku…No…Miya。 The man had not returned and all the servants' hall gone as both time and money withered away。 The lady and her governess were forced into the old; long…abandoned samurai's quarters to live。
'Now there was only rice to eat and great gaps in the wooden frame of the place let in both wind and rain。 At length the governess besought her lady; saying; 〃Forgive me; lady; but your lover has abandoned you。 There is a certain man who has been inquiring about you。 Since we have so little money。。。〃
'But the lady would not listen。 〃I have no use for other adventures now;〃 she said。 〃I only wish for the solace of death。〃
'At that moment; in another district; the lady's lover lay with his new wife。 Startled; he sat up in the dark; saying; 〃Did you hear that?〃
' 〃Go back to sleep; my lord;〃 his wife answered him。 〃It is only a cherry blossom falling。〃
'Not over a year later; this man returned to Roku…No…Miya with his wife and retinue。 He had paused at a roadside inn to wait out inclement weather and there had sent a number of notes to his former mistress。 Not one was answered and thus; piqued; he left his wife at the house of her father and set off in search of the castle at Roku…No…Miya。
'When he arrived; he almost passed it by; so changed was it。 The great wood and iron gates that had bee so familiar to him were but stumps in the loamy earth and; down the road; the high blue lacquered torii; around which he and the lady used to stroll in the spring and summer; was gone。
'The castle itself he found uninhabitable。 Some immense storm had pletely demolished the east wing and the rest was a shambles。
'In the old samurai's quarters he found only an old; time…weary nun。 She 。was; she said; the daughter of one of the lady's servants。 When he inquired after the lady's whereabouts; she said; 〃Alas; my lord; no one knows。〃
'He went out searching for her but no one in the district claimed to have seen her。
'One dreary; rain…filled night; he stopped at a crossroads beside a monk and; hearing a voice he was certain was familiar; peered through the loose slats of a board house。 Instantly he recognized the withered woman on the floor as his mistress。 Rushing with the monk to her side he looked upon her face。 She was surely dying and he asked the monk to recite a sutra over her。 〃Invoke the name of the Amida Buddha;〃 the monk implored the lady。 To which she replied; 〃I see a blazing carriage 。。。 No; it is a golden lotus。〃 〃Please; my lady;〃 the monk cried; 〃you must call out to the Amida Buddha。 We have no power over transmigration; otherwise。 You must call to Him with all your heart。〃
' 〃I see nothing;〃 the lady cried。 〃Nothing but darkness。〃
'〃My lady…〃
' 〃Darkness and a cold wind blowing。 A black wind; so cold。〃
The monk did his best to assist her while the man prayed to the Amida Buddha。 Gradually the lady's cries grew fainter; at last mingling with the sound of the wind whistling through the trees。'
Yukio was quiet for some time。
'Is that the end of the story?'
'Not quite。 On the night of the full moon; some days later; the old monk sat by the same crossroads; pulling his ragged cloak about his bony knees in an effort to keep out the cold。
'A samurai came by singing a song and; seeing the monk; paused to hunker down next to him。 〃Is this the place?〃 he asked。 〃It is said in the district of Roku…No…Miya the weeping of a woman can be heard sometimes at night。 What do you know of this?〃
' 〃Listen;〃 was all the monk would say。 And the samurai listened。 He heard nothing at all save the tiny night sounds。 Then; of a sudden; he thought he heard a woman's cry of grief。 〃What is that? 〃he said。
' 〃Pray;〃 said the monk。 〃Pray for a spirit that knows neither heaven nor hell。〃 But the samurai; having no God; merely looked at the monk and walked on。'
They ate breakfast at the hotel and then went outside。 It was cold and damp; the fog still swirling with curled tendrils underfoot。 They saw the train on which they had arrived still standing at the station … way station was more like it。 It was merely a central platform between two sets of tracks with enormous rough…hewn pillars of wood supporting a slanting; pagoda…like roof; lacquered on top against the debilitating effects of the weather and the salt air; but quite naked underneath。 The scent of cedar was still powerful。
As they watched; a skeleton crew swung onto the train and; several moments later; it crawled a small distance onto a section of track set into an enormous disk which; as the train stopped; turned one hundred and eighty degrees。 The train now pulled slowly into the opposite side of the platform; ready for the return journey north to Osaka。
The show over; they walked slowly away。 The sky was perfectly white; the sun diffuse and ragged within the mist。
They were quite near the harbour and Nicholas could already make out two or three high white sails of the fishing boats manoeuvring carefully away from the quay。 Past them; he knew; though hidden now; lurked the flatlands of the Asian shore。
As they came up on the headland; he thought he could make out the dark brown hills; due south; of Bunzen Province across the narrow straits on the island of Kyushu。
'How peaceful here;' Yukio said; stretching like a cat。 'How different from Tokyo or Osaka or even Kyoto; as if the war never touched this place; nor industrialization。 We might be in the seventeenth century。'
'Full of samurai and the ladies of samurai; eh?'
She took a deep breath。 'It's like being at the end of the world … or the beginning。' She turned to him; put her slender fingers around his wrist。 He was startled at the nonsexual intimacy it conveyed。 The sharp smell of drying fish hung heavily in the air; clinging to their nostrils like paint。 Great grey and purple gulls wheeled; crying; in the low sky; half seen。 'Why don't we stay here; Nicholas。'
'Here?'
She nodded her head like a child。 'Yes。 Right here。 Why not? It's idyllic。 The rest of the world doesn't exist here。 We can forget。 Be free。 Start all over again。 Like being born again without hurt or sin。〃 He looked at her and her grip on him tightened convulsively。 'Oh; please;' she said; her voice as hushed and echoey as if she were talking in a cathedral。 'Let's not go on。 What for? What can there be waiting in Kumamoto to pare to this? You have me; there's the sea。 We could go sailing。 Out into the ocean。 Even to the continent。 It's not so very far away。 How much time would it take? And then。 And then。。。'
'You can't really mean that;〃 he said。 'You have to be realistic; Yukio。'
'Realistic?' she cried。 'What do you think I am being? There's nothing for me back there。〃 She flung her arm out to the north; from where they had e。 'There's no love; no life。 And to the south; in Kumamoto? What's there? Saigo。 Saigo and his damn