Brilliance of the Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

dress. I would
come back for her when it was time to leave. I also entrusted to her the chest
that contained Shigeru’s records of the Tribe. I felt I had to have these
protected at all times, a safeguard for my future against the death sentence
that the Tribe had issued against me and a possible guarantee of alliance with
Arai Daiichi, now the most powerful warlord in the Three Countries.
    The temple was already feverish with activity, the monks
preparing not for the dawn prayers but for a counterattack on the Otori forces
and the possibility of a long siege. Torches sent flickering shadows over the
grim faces of men preparing for war. I put on leather armor laced with red and
gold. It was the first time I had worn it with a real purpose. It made me feel
older, and I hoped it would give me confidence. I went to the gate to watch my
men depart as day broke.
    Makoto and Kahei had already gone ahead with the vanguard.
Plovers and pheasants were calling from the valley. Dew clung to the blades of
bamboo grass and to the spring spiders’ webs woven between them— webs that were
quickly trampled underfoot.
    When I returned, Kaede and Manami were both dressed in men’s
clothes for riding, Kaede wearing the armor, made originally for a page, that I
had picked out for her. I had had a sword forged for her, and she wore this in
her belt, along with a knife. We quickly ate a little cold food and then
returned to where Amano was waiting with the horses.
    The abbot was with him, in helmet and leather cuirass, his sword
in his belt. I knelt before him to thank him for all he had done for me. He
embraced me like a father.
    “Send messengers from Maruyama,” he said cheerfully. “You will be
there before the new moon.”
    His confidence in me heartened me and gave me strength.
    Kaede rode Raku, the gray horse with the black mane and tail that
I had given her, and I rode the black stallion we had taken from the Otori
warriors, which Amano had called Aoi. Manami and some of the other women who
traveled with the army were lifted onto pack-horses, Manami making sure the
chest of records was strapped behind her. We joined the throng as it wound its
way through the forest and up the steep mountain path that Makoto and I had
descended the previous year in the first snow. The sky was aflame, the sun just
beginning to touch the snowy peaks, turning them pink and gold. The air was cold
enough to numb our cheeks and fingers.
    I looked back once at the temple, at its broad sloping roofs
emerging from the sea of new leaves like great ships. It looked eternally
peaceful in the morning sun, with white doves fluttering round the eaves. I prayed
it would be preserved just as it was at that moment, that it would not be
burned or destroyed in the coming fight.
    The red morning sky was true to its threat. Before long, heavy
gray clouds moved in from the West, bringing first showers, then steady rain.
As we climbed toward the pass, the rain turned to sleet. Men on horseback did
better than the porters, who carried huge baskets on their backs; but as the
snow underfoot became deeper, even the horses had a hard time of it. I’d
imagined that going into battle would be a heroic affair, the conch shells
sounding, the banners flying. I had not imagined it would be this grim slog
against no human enemy, just the weather and the mountain, and the aching climb
upward, always upward.
    The horses balked finally and Amano and I dismounted to lead
them. By the time we crossed the pass, we were soaked to the skin. There was no
room on the narrow track to ride back or ahead to check on my army. As we wound
downward I could see its snakelike shape, dark against the last traces of snow,
a huge many-legged creature. Beyond the rocks and scree, now appearing as the
rain melted the snow, stretched deep forests. If anyone lay in wait for us
there, we would be completely at their mercy. But the forests were empty. The Otori
were waiting for us on the other side of the