Autumn Bridge by Takashi Matsuoka Page A

ultimate triumph of the Okumichi clan. Fool that he was, he caused roses to be planted in the inner garden of the castle, and named them American Beauty roses, thinking that by so doing, he was bringing the prophecy to fruition. Is this not typical of a man, to try to force the river to flow in a certain way, rather than to understand its currents, and ride it effortlessly to its natural destination? It is hard to imagine a woman so foolish, is it not? When heaven gave men command of the world, the gods above were surely displaying a most mischievous sense of humor.
    The style of the narrative was quite different from the formality of the writing in the other scrolls she had translated so far. The archaic language posed a challenge, but with the help of the bilingual dictionary she and Genji had been compiling, she was able to understand what she read with comparative ease, thanks to the absence of kanji. She continued without bothering to write down any immediate English translation. That could come later. She was too excited.
    She finished the scroll just as Genji came to take his midday meal with her. By then she knew this trunkful of ancient writings contained something other than
Suzume-no-kumo.
That clan history had been written by the succeeding lords of the domain, beginning in 1291. The author of this scroll was surely a woman.
    She had written her chronicle around the same time that the official one was begun.
    And she told, as if from direct experience, of occurrences that spanned centuries beyond her lifetime.
     
1281, CLOUD OF SPARROWS CASTLE
     
    “I don’t understand this at all,” Lady Kiyomi said, pouting at her husband. “Why must you help the Lord of Hakata? Has he not been an enemy of our clan for generations?”
    Masamuné calmed the impatient warhorse beneath him. He wanted to sigh, but his five hundred retainers were gathered around him on their own horses, and he could hardly do something so unmartial in front of them. He should have listened to his father and married a woman less beautiful and less obstreperous.
    “As I have already repeatedly explained, our sacred homeland has been invaded by the Mongol hordes.”
    “You have
said
repeatedly, my lord, but merely saying explains nothing. Hakata Domain is not our sacred homeland. Why should we care if Mongol hordes, whatever they are, invade Hakata? Let them destroy the place. Then we would have one enemy less, would we not?”
    He turned to his chamberlain for help, but that man, being gifted with both experience and wisdom, had fixed his entire attention on the distant tree line some minutes ago.
    “If the Mongols destroy Hakata, then it is only a matter of time before they come here.”
    She laughed. “Please be serious. Hakata is on Kyushu island and we are on Shikoku.” She said it as if it clarified all that needed to be understood.
    Though Kiyomi had been his wife for ten years and borne three children, she still seemed so very young to Masamuné, especially when she laughed. He could not find it within himself to be angry with her, despite her painful lack of political understanding.
    He bowed in the saddle. “I will return with many Mongol heads.”
    “If you must bring back something of the Mongols, bring back Mongol jewels,” she said. “I don’t understand your fascination with heads at all.”
    This time, despite his every effort, Masamuné sighed before he turned his horse’s head toward the castle gate. “Farewell.”
    When the men were gone, Lady Kiyomi’s senior lady-in-waiting said, “I understand why you are behaving in such a way, my lady, but is it wise to do so? Wouldn’t Lord Masamuné benefit more from your actual wisdom at such a time rather than your pretended silliness?”
    Lady Kiyomi said, “If I had knowledge unavailable to him, or if I could give advice he could not get elsewhere, yes, then your concern would be well-founded. Our lord has good counselors around him. He doesn’t need yet another.