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to be someone else’s figurehead. He wants to feel he is truly the ruler of this great country, like the warrior emperors of ancient Shin. He needs loyal men like yourself to serve him, in positions of influence and power.” She spoke obliquely, leaving essential things unsaid. Masachika had to fill in the gaps himself—but was it truly her meaning or was he allowing his own desires to interpret her words?
    â€œI am forever his servant as I am yours,” he said. “But what will you have me do? I have only a few men at my command…” There was no way he could mount a full-scale rebellion and he was not such a fool, or so ambitious, that he would hint at such an act, even if only to deny it.
    â€œDo nothing for the time being,” Lady Natsue said. “Simply make sure Lord Aritomo’s sickness is well managed.”
    Does not improve , he translated silently.
    â€œAnd be ready for our instruction. That is all.”
    He bowed again to her and prepared to leave, but she made a sign to her attendants. Two women shuffled forward silently and helped her stand. One of them took the shawl, the other adjusted her many-layered robe, pink lapped over green, green over red, and so on through twelve or more different colored layers. She was a tiny woman, made all the more tiny by the mass of clothes. Her hair reached to the ground, adding even more weight to bow her down. She had grown thin, but her skin was still white, her lips red. He remembered that in her youth she had been a beautiful woman who had won the deceased emperor’s heart.
    â€œFollow me,” she said. “My son wishes to let his eyes rest on you.”
    She moved smoothly and swiftly, as though not walking at all but carried by unseen beings. As she passed him, Masachika, still prostrate, smelled her perfume even more strongly. It seemed to suggest infinite possibilities.
    He walked at a respectful distance behind her down the long corridor. It was open on one side, giving out onto a courtyard. In the center was a large fishpond fringed with reeds and lotus leaves. I must discuss all this with Tama , he thought, as he followed Lady Natsue into the private chambers of the Emperor.
    After a short, enigmatic interview in which the Emperor spoke obliquely of poetry and the weather, Yoriie accompanied Masachika to the gate, where the birds again looked down at him and seemed to jeer. He even thought he heard one speak his name.
    â€œWhat are those birds?” he asked. “Where did they come from?”
    â€œThe priests tell us they are werehawks,” Yoriie replied. “The eggs hatched recently. The deceased Prince Abbot used to own several, and they flew far and wide at his bidding, but none remained after his death and now no one knows how to train them.”
    â€œWhat about Master Sesshin? He would know.”
    â€œHe is in his dotage and useless,” Yoriie said, his mouth curling in irritation. “He found their antics amusing and spoiled them, giving them food. I suppose he might have been able to command them, but he is no longer here.”
    â€œI thought I had not heard him playing. Where is he?”
    â€œHer Majesty disliked him and wanted him removed. Lord Aritomo’s men took him away.”
    Masachika frowned. His intuition told him there was something strange going on, that he should look into it further, but then he thought of Asagao, longed to be with her, and could not bear any further delay.

 
    5
    MU
    Take was a quick learner. It was as if the knowledge lay hidden within him and all Mu had to do was bring it to the surface. Mu was as fierce and as strict as the tengu had been with him, but Take accepted his discipline without question. He seemed to soak up everything; no challenge was too great. If he could not master some technique with the sword, or some practice of meditation, he worked obsessively at it, until he understood what Mu was asking of him and could achieve