The boy bowed. “Thank you, my lord. I promise. They are my family now.”
As Nobunari examined his father’s sword, Akitada thought how proud his parents would have been and felt a deep sadness for Haseo, who had died in a distant land and for Tomoe, who had sacrificed everything for her children. Nothing was certain in life but death. And yet, though brief and fleeting, life was full of possibilities.
Later he went to his room to be alone. Exhaustion after the past weeks had finally caught up with him, and he felt empty. Outside the open shutters, the sun was setting, casting a golden light over the garden. Somewhere, in a great distance, the evening bells began to ring. Another day had passed and darkness lay in wait. The nights ahead seemed endless, and desolation overwhelmed him.
Akitada walked onto the veranda. There was an extraordinary stillness in the air-almost a breathless waiting. He listened and then he understood. Yori’s spirit remained, here in this house, close to them for the forty-nine days after his death. After a moment of wonder, he went back inside for his flute.
In the slanting rays of the setting sun, Yori’s father stood in the garden and played the lullaby which had soothed his son’s suffering. And when the last note faded with the light, he told him of his pride and love.
HISTORICAL NOTE
The preceding novel takes place in eleventh-century Japan, toward the end of the Heian Age (794-1185 AD). The setting is the capital city Heian-kyo, which was founded in 794 and gave its name to the classical period in Japanese history and civilization. It was from here, from the Imperial Court and a centralized government by nobles, that the affairs of the nation were governed for three centuries of peace and tranquility.
Ancient Japan patterned its government and institutions after T’ang China, and the capital was laid out in the Chinese style as a perfect rectangle with a grid pattern of streets running due north, south, east, and west. As in the Chinese capital Ch’ang-an, the Imperial Palace with the government buildings (the Daidairi, or Greater Palace Enclosure) occupied its own city in the northernmost center and, along with the surrounding mansions of the nobles, took up almost a third of the whole area. The capital stretched over 6000 acres and is said to have had as many as 200,000 inhabitants at times. It was not fortified, but earthen ramparts and moats surrounded it, and gates stood at major entrances. Of these, Rashomon, the southern-most gate, was the most important and famous in Japanese literature. Suzaku Avenue divided the city into a Right Capital and a Left Capital, each half with its own administration, market, prison, and temple. The original layout was intended to impress foreign visitors, and the city must have been quite beautiful with its wide, willow-lined avenues, its many rivers and canals, parks and gardens, and great gates and palaces. But the Right Capital never fully developed. It soon fell into disrepair and became a haven for criminals. Furthermore, traditional building practices and materials, while they allowed for quick construction and deconstruction (whole palace buildings were moved from previous capitals to Heian-kyo), meant that the capital periodically suffered severe damage from fires, storms, and earthquakes.
Ancient Japan also took most of its culture from China. Ultimately, the Chinese system of government failed in Japan, but in the Heian age it still prevailed and produced a period of unparalleled peace and cultural achievement. The country was governed by a hierarchy of bureaucrats who ruled by Chinese precepts and used the Chinese language. However, the system was never a meritocracy as in China. In Japan only the sons of the “good people” attended the imperial university, entered the government service, and achieved the ranks which assured them of wealth and power. The highest ranks fell mostly to members of one family, the Fujiwaras. They supplied wives and concubines to the ruling monarchs and crown princes and thus were not only closely related to the emperors, but served as regents (and de facto rulers) to the many minor children who ascended the throne. The chancellor, assisted by the three great ministers of the right, left, and center, supervised the Great Council of State, two controlling boards, eight ministries, and assorted bureaus and offices. From the Greater Palace Enclosure of Heian-kyo, this central government ruled the rest of the country through governors appointed in the capital and sent to their provinces for four-year terms.
The Greater Palace Enclosure was protected by several armed divisions of the military guard, but crime was rampant in the capital. In 816 AD the government placed law enforcement for the capital (and eventually the provinces) into the hands of the kebiishicho, the police department. The police, a semi-military force, wore red coats and carried bows and arrows. They kept order, investigated crimes, arrested criminals, brought them to trial before judges, and enforced punishment. In addition, each ward of the capital was also supervised by a warden who reported to the police. The most serious crimes, as defined by the Taiho Code (701 AD), were in order of severity: rebellion against the emperor; damage to the Imperial Palace or royal tombs; treason; murder of one’s kin; murder of one’s wife or of more than three members of a family; theft or damage of imperial or religious property; unfilial acts toward parents or senior relatives; and murder of a superior or teacher. As in China, confessions were necessary for conviction, but flogging was common during interrogation. Buddhist prohibitions against the taking of life meant that the punishment was flogging, prison, or for severe crimes, exile to remote and unhealthy areas of the country. There, forced labor, exposure, or lack of food often resulted in the deaths of the condemned, though exile could be lifted. There were two prisons in the capital, but imperial pardons were common and sweeping. As a result, crime and criminals were numerous and widespread by the mid-eleventh century.
One of the many disasters that visited Heian-kyo and most of the country repeatedly was smallpox. This disease was introduced into the islands of Japan through merchant trading with China and Korea and ravaged the population, particularly in densely populated areas. It was early recognized as infectious, but people tended to seek supernatural intervention, or to accept the danger fatalistically. In 737 AD, the Great Secretary of the Right issued a detailed order about the treatment of smallpox. This involved wrapping the victim, keeping him warm, and withholding water completely. Warm rice gruel, seaweed, and salt were prescribed, even when “mouth and tongue fester.” There is no evidence that medical knowledge had progressed much by the eleventh century, but by then the disease was becoming endemic; that is, people developed resistance and only the young and those who had never been exposed contracted it. In 1020 AD, the young emperor, who was twelve at the time, fell ill but recovered. Those who survived the fever and festering sores were permanently disfigured and often blinded.
There is little contemporary information about the common people, but the lives of the nobles are well documented in diaries, novels, and biographies. Men led public lives, usually in the service of the emperor; they engaged in sports, hunting, and literary pursuits, or entertained their male friends at lavish parties. Women lived secluded in their own quarters of the mansion, where they supervised the household and their children, and spent time reading romances, painting, or making music. Customarily, a nobleman had more than one wife and might additionally keep concubines. Women were slightly better off in the Heian Age than they were in later periods, for they could own property and were protected by the continued influence of their own families. Marriages were arranged between the groom and the bride’s family, and matters such as her status in the husband’s household and her control over her private money were negotiated beforehand. Often a young couple resided with the wife’s parents. But a husband could divorce his wife simply by informing her of this decision. He was also free to take other wives. Women rarely left the home, except for family emergencies, service at court, or pilgrimages to temples or shrines. Women of the lower classes, while often poor and forced to labor alongside the men, enjoyed greater freedom of movement and rarely had to compete with other wives.