Read Online Grass for His Pillow by Lian Hearn - Free Book Online

form you choose to come in, you must be one of God’s angels to do what you did.”
    It was a shock to hear my story repeated by this man. It brought home to me the danger I was in. “Go home. Tell no one you saw me.” I prepared to leave.
    He did not seem to hear me. He was in an almost exalted state: His eyes glittering, flecks of spittle shimmering on his lips. “Stay, lord,” he exhorted me. “Every night I bring food for you, food and wine. We must share them together; then you must bless me and I will die happy.”
    He took up a small bundle. Unwrapping the food and placing it on the ground between us, he began to say the first prayer of theHidden. The familiar words made my neck tingle, and when he’d finished I responded quietly with the second prayer. Together we made the sign over the food and over ourselves, and I began to eat.
    The meal was pitifully sparse, a millet cake with a trace of smoked fish skin buried in it, but it had all the elements of the rituals of my childhood. The outcast brought out a small flask and poured from it into a wooden bowl. It was some home-brewed liquor, far rougher than wine, and we had no more than a mouthful each, but the smell reminded me of my home. I felt my mother’s presence strongly and tears pricked my eyelids.
    â€œAre you a priest?” I whispered, wondering how he had escaped the Tohan persecution.
    â€œMy brother was our priest. The one you released in mercy. Since his death I do what I can for our people—those who are left.”
    â€œDid many die under Iida?”
    â€œIn the East, hundreds. My parents fled here many years ago, and under the Otori there was no persecution. But in the ten years since Yaegahara, no one has been safe here. Now we have a new overlord, Arai: No one knows which way he will jump. They say he has other fish to gut. We may be left alone while he deals with the Tribe.” His voice dropped to a whisper at this last word, as though just to utter it was to invite retribution. “And that would only be justice,” he went on, “for it’s they who are the murderers and the assassins. Our people are harmless. We are forbidden to kill.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Of course, lord, your case was different.”
    He had no idea how different, or how far I had gone from my mother’s teaching. Dogs were barking in the distance, roosters announced the coming day. I had to go, yet I was reluctant to leave.
    â€œYou’re not afraid?” I asked him.
    â€œOften I am terrified. I don’t have the gift of courage. But my life is in God’s hands. He has some plan for me. He sent you to us.”
    â€œI am not an angel,” I said.
    â€œHow else would one of the Otori know our prayers?” he replied. “Who but an angel would share food with someone like me?”
    I knew the risk I was taking but I told him anyway. “Lord Shigeru rescued me from Iida at Mino.”
    I did not have to spell it out. He was silent for a moment as if awed. Then he whispered, “Mino? We thought no one survived from there. How strange are the ways of God. You have been spared for some great purpose. If you are not an angel, you are marked by the Secret One.”
    I shook my head. “I am the least of beings. My life is not my own. Fate, which led me away from my own people, has now led me away from the Otori.” I did not want to tell him I had become one of the Tribe.
    â€œYou need help?” he said. “We will always help you. Come to us at the outcasts’ bridge.”
    â€œWhere is that?”
    â€œWhere we tan the hides, between Yamagata and Tsuwano. Ask for Jo-An.” He then said the third prayer, giving thanks for the food.
    â€œI must go,” I said.
    â€œFirst would you give me a blessing, lord.”
    I placed my right hand on his head and began the prayer my mother used to say to me. I felt uncomfortable, knowing I had