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

she knelt, too, and raised my head so she could see my face. I kept my eyes turned away.
    â€œAnswer me! Are you insane?”
    â€œJust to see if I could.”
    She sighed in exasperation, sounding like her husband.
    â€œI don’t like being shut in,” I muttered.
    â€œIt’s madness,” Akio said angrily. “He’s a danger to us all. We should—”
    She interrupted him swiftly. “That decision can only be taken by the Kikuta master. Until then, our task is to try to keep him alive and out of Arai’s hands.” She gave me another cuff round the head, but a less serious one. “Who saw you?”
    â€œNo one. Just an outcast.”
    â€œWhat outcast?”
    â€œA leather worker. Jo-An.”
    â€œJo-An? The lunatic? The one who saw the angel?” She took a deep breath. “Don’t tell me he saw you.”
    â€œWe talked for a while,” I admitted.
    â€œArai’s men have already picked the outcast up,” Akio said.
    â€œI hope you realize just what a fool you are,” she said.
    I bowed my head again. I was thinking about Jo-An, wishing I’d seen him home—if he had any home in Yamagata—wondering if I could rescue him, demanding silently to know what his god’spurpose was for him now. I am often afraid, he had said. Terrified. Pity and remorse twisted my heart.
    â€œFind out what the outcast gives away,” Kenji’s wife said to Akio.
    â€œHe won’t betray me,” I said.
    â€œUnder torture, everyone betrays,” he replied briefly.
    â€œWe should hasten your journey,” she went on. “Perhaps you should even leave today.”
    Akio was still kneeling behind me, holding me by the wrists. I felt the movement as he nodded.
    â€œIs he to be punished?” he said.
    â€œNo, he has to be able to travel. Besides, as you should have realized by now, physical punishment makes no impression on him. However, make sure he knows exactly what the outcast suffers. His head may be stubborn but his heart is soft.”
    â€œThe masters say it is his main weakness,” Akio remarked.
    â€œYes, if it weren’t for that we might have another Shintaro.”
    â€œSoft hearts can be hardened,” Akio muttered.
    â€œWell, you Kikuta know best how to do that.”
    I remained kneeling on the floor while they discussed me as coldly as if I were some commodity, a vat of wine, perhaps, that might turn out to be a particularly fine one or might be tainted and worthless.
    â€œWhat now?” Akio said. “Is he to be tied up until we leave?”
    â€œKenji said you chose to come to us,” she said to me. “If that’s true, why do you try to escape?”
    â€œI came back.”
    â€œWill you try again?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou will go to Matsue with the actors and do nothing to endanger them or yourself?”
    â€œYes.”
    She thought for a moment and told Akio to tie me up anyway. After he’d done so, they left me to make the preparations for our departure. The maid came with a tray of food and tea and helped me to eat and drink without saying a word. After she had taken away the bowls, no one came near me. I listened to the sound of the house and thought I discerned all the harshness and cruelty that lay beneath its everyday song. A huge weariness came over me. I crawled to the mattress, made myself as comfortable as I could, thought hopelessly of Jo-An and my own stupidity, and fell asleep.

    I WOKE SUDDENLY , my heart pounding, my throat dry. I had been dreaming of the outcast, a terrible dream in which, from far away, an insistent voice, as small as a mosquito’s, was whispering something only I could hear.
    Akio must have had his face pressed up against the outside wall. He described every detail of Jo-An’s torture at the hands of Arai’s men. It went on and on in a slow monotone, making my skin crawl and my stomach turn. Now and then he would