The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan

O'Kikú had lived an eventful life, if a short one, and was not one to be alarmed by spectres. Taken aback for a moment, somewhat frightened by the scene, involved for a few seconds in the unreasoning panic of the mob, she had quickly regained aplomb.

Tapping her fan against the barrier with a peevish shrug of shapely shoulders, she demanded, in a chirrupping voice, as loud and clear as musical, to be instantly rescued from contamination.

"It serves me right," she cried, tossing her chin, "for abandoning the realm of fashion. Faugh! Was there ever anything so disgusting as these rustics? The country with its evil-smelling rice paddy and foul slush was fit for them, and they for it. What a ridiculous pother, to be sure, over one paltry man's impertinence! The ways of the coolies were nauseous. Thank the gods, she was unaccustomed to coolies. If some one would have the gallantry to remove her from their contact, she would skip into her kago, and return to Kamakura forthwith." Oh, intriguing and long-headed O'Kikú! Ah, if O'Tei had had presence of mind to accept the situation in this spirit! Could No-Kami ever lavish sufficient gratitude for so signal a service rendered in the nick of time?

The bewitching tourist had touched the right note, and saved the Daimio from embarrassment. With a smile of thanks, he bowed, and commanded an officer without delay to extricate the lady from the scum. With courteous apologies and well-turned compliments he descended from the dais, and, taking the stranger by the finger-tips, led her to the place of honour. Ignoring his wife, who, seemingly as lifeless as the farmer's family, was being gently borne away, under the tender surveillance of his brother, he was free to superintend the stranger's comfort, to see that the new-comer was provided with tea, in a cup of the best hirado, and plied with the choicest sweetmeats. A blush of gratified vanity served to add piquancy to her beauty, as, with an engaging air of bashfulness that went well with long lashes and sly glances, she seemed to deprecate attention.

"I was so sorry for you," she gently purred; "but 'tis the penalty of greatness to be misinterpreted."

Fanning herself with demure grace, she turned her pretty head aside to hearken to the words of her host, gazing the while with studied nonchalance at the proceedings of the Etas as they placed the heads in buckets, piled the bodies of the infants behind a convenient screen, did away with tokens of the sacrifice. The hollow square of dark-mailed men remained motionless till it should please their lord to move; but under many an iron vizard was a smile lurking, for the conduct of the saucy lady was approved by all, and the admiration of No-Kami no more than natural. Unlike the one who had been borne away, she was an honour to her sex, a vision of brightness and of courage, and gladly would one and all have hailed such as she for their mistress.

"You were cruel just now," whispered No-Kami; "though, after what has happened, 'twas your right."

"Cruel? Poor little I?" exclaimed the artless geisha. "Why, I never hurt so much as a buzzing mantis when it tumbled on my head, as the vexatious insects will! I cruel indeed!"

"You said you would depart forthwith; but you forgot that within these walls you are our prisoner."

"I was on my way to pray at Isé," remarked the demure damsel; "sure you would not balk so pious an intent?"

"That can wait-and must!" returned the Daimio. "Bad impressions must be effaced. You must not relate to the Shogun, on your return to Kamakura, how the lion of Tsu was bearded. For a few days, at least, you stay as our guest, or else our captive."

O'Kikú laughed a rippling laugh, as she considered within herself as to which was likely to be the captive.

"When a great lord commands," she murmured, "a poor weak girl obeys."

Exultant glee pervaded the bosom of the Daimio. The welcome new-comer should be his guest-his honoured guest-and the pusillanimous O'Tei should be taught manners by example. He was about to move towards the castle, conducting with due ceremony the lady thither, when, with a familiar fan-tap on the arm, she stayed his progress.

"You are so good and kind, – so generous, and so wickedly misinterpreted," she whispered hurriedly, "that I take courage, although a stranger, to crave a boon. Your object accomplished, 'tis the moment to show clemency, and disclaim the stigma of the tyrant. Those nuns still sing without, awaiting the bodies for interment. Let them be delivered up to them. The first favour I ever asked," she added gently, seeing the Daimio hesitate. "Believe me, 'twould be an act of policy, and stay farther clamour."

No-Kami looked down into the deep dark well of her eyes, from which he could see peeping his own pleased reflection. Why, what a treasure was this-a wise little counsellor! More than ever was he disgusted with the absent chatelaine, who could only implore, and writhe, and groan, and grovel on the ground in intervals of stony glaring. Practical, and shrewd, and plump, and purring was this fairy by his side. She should have her boon, and welcome, with many thanks for the suggestion.

The Daimio having been pleased to announce that, yielding to the intercession of his charming guest, Masago might be permitted to remove the corpses, he crossed the inner moat, followed by his brilliant train, while the grim samurai laughed behind their vizards, wondering how the ladies would agree.

CHAPTER X.

FOREBODINGS

It was with feelings strangely mingled that the concourse prepared to depart. For their good, the farmer had suffered martyrdom; himself and his family were swept like insects from the earth, but not from the grateful memories of the people. No sooner was the inner drawbridge raised behind the departing despot, than with one accord all meekly knelt while the Abbess issued orders. Her brow was more sombre than its wont, her jaw more firmly set, as the troubled elders related what had happened. She had prayed for light, but Buddha had vouchsafed no answer. What was this coil that was winding slowly but surely round the son of him who had been her husband? Ay, round her own son as well, the noble Sampei. It was under misapprehension that Koshiu had included him in his anathema, supposing him the seducer of his child; yet here was the child, clad now in the crape of a nun, as pure as she had ever been. The farmer was in error, and surely idle curses recoil on those who launch them. Sampei, the brave and generous, was without reproach. Even sleepy Buddha must know that. Perchance he was at this moment rating Koshiu, on the further bank of the mystic Sandzu, for his precipitate injustice. Masago strove to persuade herself that it must be so, whilst striving to console the terror-stricken Miné, and yet at the bottom of her heart there was apprehension, a dull weight of cold foreboding.

The ways of Heaven are so strange, so unaccountable sometimes, and to our purblind vision so unjust, that the most robust of faith is sometimes sorely shaken. Miné wrung her hands, refusing comfort. As with trembling fingers she untied the bonds which supported her dead father, she prayed to him with cries and lamentations. It was through her own wrongheaded madness that the mistake had occurred. Sure her parent knew it now. If the curse must fall on one of the two, let it be on her, for she was in fault, not the glorious young General. Could he hear her now, her father? Oh, for some sign that he could hear and would grant her humble petition! Wretched, wretched child! Her punishment was already greater than she could bear, for was not she doomed to drag on a sad existence, stripped of all her kin. Had she but behaved as a dutiful daughter should, instead of grieving now, heart-broken, she would be standing on the further bank of the river of death along with Gennosuké, and little Sohei, and sweet Kihachi. Alack! alack! While the bereaved daughter raved, distracted, the elders of Tsu and the outlying villages were taking counsel. A notice had been handed to them, on the part of their lord, which ran thus: – "The property of the deceased, his rice fields and corn fields, and forest and mountain land, shall be sold without delay, and divided into two parts; one shall be paid over to the lord of the estate; the other, by his extreme condescension, shall be the portion of the culprit's daughter, who has been permitted to live. This is to show how godlike and noble is your master; and it is hereby strictly forbidden to make comments on the sentence, or find fault with this his decision."

One-half for Miné, who was in some sort an heiress, then. Poor heart! She little recked of her good fortune. The temple yonder would be the richer for her portion, for she was Buddha's servant now, – his handmaid till her spirit was released. With regard to the dead, the elders consulted awhile, and then with calm decision Zembei, supported by Rokubei, rose from his knees and spoke.

"Dear friends," he said, "Koshiu, who suffered this day, bruised his bones and crushed his soul for your sakes. In appealing direct to the Most Holy Mikado he sinned greatly, but 'twas from excess of zeal; and in being compelled to see those he loved massacred before his eyes, his punishment was in excess of his misdemeanour. We have decided that honour shall be paid to him, for indeed before his death he was the mouthpiece of the Eternal, who deigned to speak through his lips. It is meet therefore that we, his old friends, who loved him and his as ourselves-though perhaps on one occasion we were unduly selfish-should undertake this matter. We will leave our homes and lands in possession of our heirs, and, shaving our heads, will retire for a while to the top of the holy mountain; and after a period of probation, will descend from Mount Kôya in Kishiu, and, becoming priests, will wander from town to town, praying at every shrine for the souls of the departed, collecting as we go from the charity of all good people. And then, having collected enough, we will erect a temple over their bones, with six Buddhas in bronze to do them honour, and there shall prayers be offered up for ever for them, and also for us."

The people listened to the oration, and bowed their heads without a word, for the decision of the elders was good and natural. All therefore lighting paper lanterns, for it was dark now, turned to follow across the outer moat, away along the straggling interminable street, the procession of the dead.

Masago had accepted a temporary trust, and it was well. Within the darkling groves of her sacred pines should the victims lie at peace, until such time as, by divine grace, the elders should return to fulfil their holy task; and it behoved those here assembled, who had witnessed the sacrifice, to offer a prayer together, and commence among themselves a collection for the building of a shrine.

Solemn and slow, like an army of glow-worms, the procession wended along to the sad chant of nuns and bonzes; and, unknown to them, as the simple people marched, there followed a fervent benison from the lips of one despairing. The dreary chatelaine was sitting at an upper casement of the castle, wistfully gazing into the night.

Recovering consciousness, the Lady O'Tei found herself in her bower, surrounded by grieving maidens, and was relieved, glancing fearfully around, to miss the figure of my lord. She was spared his hateful presence. For that small mercy, thanks. For, still and self-possessed as she had appeared during the ordeal, thereby winning the admiration of Sampei, and, even for a time, the grudging approval of No-Kami, the chatelaine had suffered so intensely as to produce a crisis in her nature.

During the short while that the scene lasted, years seemed to have passed over her head. Hitherto she had been weary and empty and unhappy-deeply miserable, but yet with a germ of hope half stifled. That germ was quite dead now, shrivelled and black. She was beset with an intense craving for rest and sleep, – for the fragrant perfume of the earth. Although the execrated name of Hojo was hers, the scathing curse on all who bore the name passed harmless over her. Her conscience was clear. She had done all that within her lay to save the victims, and, calm and still in outward aspect, had suffered far more than they. A threat of proximate death? – release! The world, whose beauty she had so intensely enjoyed ages ago at Nara, was repellent now, – a hideous mockery, – a skull crowned with flowers. For how false was its song of sweetness, since such wickedness and injustice flourished in its midst. A world of disease and pain and sorrow. In this life are not many punished for their virtues, as a set-off to the manner in which others are rewarded for their vices? What wonder if people fall under burthens too heavy for their backs?

Koshiu and his had already entered on a new and smiling existence; if his dying words might be believed, had started under sunny auspices on the next round of life. And at the same time he had prophesied that no Hojo henceforth might ever win peace. They were doomed to wander from one globe to another, gaining no step, rising no higher on the earth, for all eternity! How horrible! So dread a bolt overshot its mark; for sure the universe must be ruled by fiends if those whose crime is to bear an execrated name are for that to be undone for ever. To die, and try again, and yet again, in vain-a weary prospect. The sooner the better, after all, for no future phase could be less tolerable to the Lady O'Tei than the present one. She was condemned, as it seemed, never to attain aught that she desired; never to have a prayer answered, or a wish gratified. And all that she now longed for was repose. Ah, how vain that wish! For never may we enjoy perfect rest save in far-off Nirvana-away in the incalculable and limitless Nirvana! where, when time is dead for us, refined and freed from the last speck of dross, we are to achieve the reward of nonexistence.

O'Tei had learned to despise her husband more and more, but now she had a new and positive feeling for him-active and sore and gnawing-one of intensest hatred. And she was his-bound to obey his whim. How long? For his part, he took little trouble to conceal that he hated her, and would be glad to be rid of an encumbrance. Should she fling herself at his feet, and, baring her white bosom, implore the mercy of his dirk? No. She shuddered as she thought that he would laugh-that fierce and ugly laugh of his that made her blood run cold-would spurn and revile, hissing forth recreant, but yet would forbear to strike her. There was nothing for it but plodding patience, – a stringing of the nerves to endurance-slow, continuous, monotonous-the hardest of all tasks to an overwrought and nervous woman.

Meanwhile Masago, moving like a tall still ghost at the head of the procession, was disturbed and exercised in mind. How strangely things were going. If she might only be allowed to see. What thunderous clouds were gathering? Was the appalling prophecy to be accomplished to the letter? Like the chatelaine, her being rose in protest. Was her own brave boy, innocent of all wrong, to be involved with the rest, simply because his name was Hojo-the guiltless suffering for the guilty? Why, so was hers. Though but a second wife or concubine, she was mother of a Hojo-proud to call herself Hojo-jealous of the family honour, although of plebeian birth. She could quite understand the feelings of the rough warriors towards a chatelaine who was to them a riddle; but she, discerning, renowned for subtle acumen, could see under the rind what a fragrant nature was O'Tei's, if it had not been nipped half-blown. She sighed heavily as she walked, and pondered of O'Tei. What of this new element introduced into the castle-of discord surely? Not of necessity so. Should No-Kami elect to take the new-comer to himself, as folk already whispered, what of it? Had not his father done the same? And she, Masago (concubine), and the bellicose Tomoyé (wife) had never quarrelled.

But then O'Tei was so different from her predecessor. She was so odd and sensitive and self-contained, given to contemplative fancies which served no good purpose. Masago, the sage, was quite angry sometimes when she considered the education of O'Tei. She, an abbess, should know something of such matters, and there was no doubt about it that the bonzes and priestesses of Nara had blundered. The heiress of Nara was destined by her birth to a grand alliance, to reign in a world of strife, and they should have combated, while the nature of their pupil was yet malleable, such tendencies as might be likely to interfere with the young lady's future happiness. Dancing the kagura in a wood was all very well for priestesses, but in a fierce age, when every man's hand is at his fellow's throat, the female head of a warlike household should be taught to hold her own. Poor O'Tei had never been properly prepared, and was in truth no more fit to cope with the difficulties of her high position than would be the merest coolie's daughter.

In the candour of self-communing Masago admitted this much to herself, making apologies the while for the shortcomings of her favourite, and laying the blame upon the priesthood.

And again the question would assert itself-Was the new element for harmony or discord? If she could only know, and help to keep matters straight. If O'Tei were sensible, she would accept the second wife with gratitude, for she would be relieved of the society of one whom she abhorred. But then O'Tei was so peculiar. And so much depended on the attitude assumed by the second wife, if second wife she were to be. She, Masago, and Tomoyé had got on so splendidly that, as she thought of the past, a faint blush of self-complacency tinged the Abbess's ascetic cheek. No doubt about it. She, Masago, had displayed, as she usually did, consummate tact. In fact, in their instance, the two wives completed each other. Each had the talent which was denied to her companion, for Tomoyé often declared that though her muscle was a marvel her brain was wanting, while Masago was the best of advisers, although no warrior. Hence, whilst both adoring their lord from their own point of view, they could perfectly trust each other without jealousy, and play into one another's hands-a fact which was clearly proven when the regnant Hojo wearied of his concubine. Tomoyé did her best to retain the second wife (not knowing what the next fancy of her lord might be), and constantly sought counsel from Masago after her assumption of the crape.

Masago therefore, as she walked, summoned to her side the devoted elders who were so soon to embrace the priesthood, and cross-questioned them narrowly. They had observed, had they, in my lord's visage, how desperately he had become enamoured? They were certain that his sudden passion would insist on being gratified? But what if the travelling geisha were a light-o'-love to be picked up too easily to-day and cast forth to-morrow? Rokubei shook his head. The astute Masago-all-wise counsellor-would never venture so futile a suggestion had she once scanned the lady with her searching scrutiny. Oh, a cunning and fascinating lady! A petulant and wilful lady, and an obstinate! Ay, and a circumspect. What object could she have had in insisting on the bodies being given up, except to ingratiate herself with the lower lieges? What cared she, a stranger from afar, for a farmer of Tsu or his family? And then, that way she had of sending gleams out of her dark velvet eyes from under the deep fringes. Even he, Rokubei, who spoke, and who shortly on the holy hill was to have his pate shaven, was fain to admit, under the seal of secrecy, that his own, for the future ascetic, bosom had been pervaded by inconvenient warmth under the glamour of those lightning shafts, and all the while he knew that they were intended for another. And my lord, so inflammable, so given to indulgence, who knew so little of the curb! Masago might believe, or not, the speaker, but it was clear to him that in a few days-nay, hours-the too fascinating geisha O'Kikú would rule the Daimio and his vassals, whether for good or evil was as yet in the womb of time.

Masago listened, and became more and more uneasy. Could it be possible that she, who had that day only appeared upon the scene, was the chosen instrument-selected beforehand and arrived exactly in time-for the fulfilment of the prophecy? Was she to undermine with her pink little fingers the great dynasty of Hojo? and, if so, how? For the advantage of the dynasty she, the discarded second wife, would gladly sacrifice herself and wear her fingers to the bone; would even surrender the life of her dearly-beloved son Sampei for its advantage. Fool! unreasoning woman, and incorrigible fool! Who was she to presume to combat Destiny? – to raise her weak hand in feeble protest against the finger of Buddha, the all-seeing? Although the blasphemous suggestion had unbidden entered her brain, vigils and much praying would be needed to atone for its presence. She would kneel on the stones throughout the ensuing darkness, praying for pardon and for light. How may we, however watchful, guard against presumption-against pitting our puny sagacity against the Infinite?

And though she fulfilled her self-imposed penance, remaining until dawn, despite years and infirmities, with forehead resting on the stones, maternity struggled with asceticism. Her bowels yearned over Sampei-the pride, the flower of Japan-and she prayed as only a mother can pray that her boy might escape the curse. How willingly, she pleaded, would she herself submit for his dear sake to recommence the ladder from the bottom. She knew not, of course, how high she had attained by long and painful climbing, but from her present consideration and eminence she must be considerably advanced on her pilgrimage. She would sacrifice all-all-with what ecstatic joy-for his sake. And as she lay convulsed in the dark, with the drops of a mother's travail coursing down her wrinkled brow, she never dreamed that in the pure intensity of undimmed devotion she might be in the act of rising yet another step. In the morning, feeble and exhausted, she turned her to the newborn orb as he showed above the glorious sea, and, vaguely relieved, sat basking in his beams. Then struggling up she groped to her cell with lagging feet, and sank into a stupor of fatigue.

CHAPTER XI.

THE CURSE BEGINS TO WORK

And Sampei, what of him, under the new régime, inaugurated so unexpectedly? Could his mother have delved into his storm-riven soul, she would have won no comfort by her prayers. Never was luckless warrior so hedged about with difficulties, which might not be vanquished with the sword. His influence over No-Kami was proved to be practically nil, for the latter was unable to comprehend his brother's character any better than that of his wife. What good then was to be gained by lingering at Tsu? The question had propounded itself before, to be set aside. Why shun it now? More than once Sampei determined that flight is in some cases the truest valour, and on every occasion the haunting and ever-present face of his early love upbraided him for selfishness, in that he was her only champion.

It was a fine specimen of bravery, in sooth, to be self-elected "own true knight," and run away at the first appearance of the enemy. That the new-comer would prove an enemy there was little room for doubt. Such a reproach should never be hurled at our young General, he doughtily determined. The more he saw of the fair O'Kikú, the more uneasy did he grow. There was no knowing how soon O'Tei might require protection from her. He might be of use. That was enough. Under the circumstances, despite his mother's warnings, Sampei resolved to stay-moth dancing round a candle-and keep an eye upon the geisha.

The proceedings of that winsome fairy, when installed within the castle, bade fair to set its inmates by the ears. With a vast parade of prudery she insisted at first upon apartments being provided as remote as might be from my lord's. A series of pleading messages, mingled with threats, were required ere she would consent to appear in the hall and perform graceful measures, or sing and play upon the samisen. Her performance finished, she would smile, and bow, and kiss her finger tips, and then flee like the timid hare. When No-Kami, who, tantalised, grew hourly more amorous, chid his guest for suspicion of his motives, she shrugged her shoulders, and imperiously demanded her kago. "I am detained here against my will," she would remark pouting. "'Tis monstrous dull, and to return to delightful Kamakura is my most ardent wish." And then with distracting little sighs wrung from a plump heaving bosom, she would dilate upon the glories of the Shogun's court, – tell of the tiltings, the hawking parties-constant flow of jocund gatherings-till the undisciplined Daimio clenched his nails into his palms with jealousy, and the lady laughed behind her fan.