Read Cloud of Sparrows for Free Online

(which he had just a minute earlier placed in his sash), and put them inside the palanquin, stepped out of the sandals (which the sandal bearer now bowed to before placing in the sandal compartment under the entrance of the palanquin), and seated himself within. He looked out at Saiki and said, “Do you see what I mean about empty ceremony?”
    Saiki bowed. “Lord, it is my failing that I do not. I will study the matter.”
    Genji let out an exasperated sigh. “Let us proceed, then, before the sun sets.”
    “My lord jests again,” Saiki said. “The sun has only just risen.” He stepped forward, bowed, and slid the door of the palanquin shut. The bearers rose. The procession moved forward.
    Through the front window, Genji could see eight samurai in a double column. If he cared to look behind, he would see twelve more. Two were to his left, and two, including Saiki, to his right. Twenty-four men, twenty-eight counting the bearers, were prepared to give their lives to preserve his. Such martial dedication imbued every act of a Great Lord, no matter how mundane and insignificant, with altogether too much drama. No wonder Japan’s past was so bloody and its future so wrought with danger.
    Genji’s contemplation moved in another direction when he saw an elaborate coiffure among the bowing heads of the household staff. It was formed by the same lustrous hair that had so recently decorated his pillow like night itself spilling from the sky. Her kimono was one he had never seen before. He knew she wore it now for the sole purpose of bidding him farewell. It depicted dozens of pink roses cast about by white foam on a sea of deepest blue. Her white overcoat had exactly the same design, but without any additional colors. Three different textures of silk for white roses on white foam on a sea of white. It was evocative, daring, and extremely dangerous. Heiko’s roses were of the variety sometimes referred to as American Beauty. The most rabid antiforeign samurai among the reactionary clans took offense at everything that came from outside. With the same simplistic arrogance that enabled them to style themselves Men of Virtue, it was entirely possible that one of them might think to kill her merely for wearing this design. Against such an attack, her only defense was her courage, her fame, her incredible beauty.
    “Stop,” Genji said.
    Immediately, Saiki cried out the order. “Halt!” The leading contingent of samurai had passed through the front gate of the compound and was now stopped in the street. Genji’s palanquin was just inside the gate. The rest of the bodyguard corps was still in the courtyard behind him. Saiki grimaced. “This position invites ambush, lord. We enjoy neither the protection within nor the freedom of movement without.”
    Genji opened the sliding door. “I have complete confidence in your ability to defend me at all times, in all circumstances.” Heiko was still bowing deeply, like everyone else.
    “Lady Mayonaka no Heiko,” he said, using her full geisha name. Midnight Equilibrium.
    “Lord Genji,” she replied, bowing even lower.
    How was it, he wondered, that her voice could be so soft and so clear at the same time? Were it as fragile as it seemed, he should not be able to hear her at all. The illusion was tantalizing. Everything about her was tantalizing.
    “Such a provocative kimono.”
    She came out of her bow, smiling, and slightly spread her arms. The wide sleeves of her kimono opened like the wings of a bird about to take flight. “I am sure I don’t know what Lord Genji means,” she said. “These colors are so common I border on visual cliché. Surely only the most hopeless of idiots could be provoked by it.”
    Genji laughed. Even the steadfastly dour Saiki was unable to suppress a short chuckle, though he did a fair job of disguising it as a cough. Genji said, “The most hopeless of idiots are precisely the ones who worry me. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps the traditional