The Samurai's Daughter

by John J. Healey

  Afterword

  The next time I saw Kurt, he brought me two things: a reply from Mizuki to the letter I sent her, and a gift from Father. I suspect Father never saw his mother again, because her response, just one sentence long, read, “To know you and your father are well frees me of all suffering.”

  Father’s gift was a traditional wedding kimono, white silk with its “horns of jealousy” veil, and a kaiken dagger to replace the one given me by Date Tadamune. He also sent a leather pouch containing a lock of his hair. Thanks to the daimyo of the Miyazaki prefecture, Kurt was able to leave the enclave at Hirado and enter Japan. He accompanied Father to the gates of a monastery high upon Mount Sobo, where they said goodbye. They bowed to each other. He told me that Father made him swear to protect me, in every way he could. Kurt said that Father entered the monastery solemn but content.

  Rosario died the following year from fever. Francisco still lives at the house in Sanlúcar alone, and continues to hunt with his companions. I hope he will find happiness with someone.

  In 1640 a terrible plague afflicted Sevilla, killing thousands of people, including my grandmother, Doña Inmaculada. I buried her next to Don Rodrigo and Mother’s first child. Caitríona, Carlota, and I traveled to Madrid with Patrick, where I met the king, who was gracious and commiserative. From there, we reached Barcelona and sailed here, to Venice. We looked for Paolo Sarpi, only to learn he had died soon after he returned home. We found Maria Elena, the pirate captain’s mistress, gray and weak, but alive and overjoyed to see us again. Her beautiful home on the Giudecca was almost a ruin. I bought it and paid for its restoration, and before leaving this world she was able to see it as it once had been. I had a stand made for Father’s sword, and have placed it within arm’s reach by my bed.

  Caitríona’s two brothers died in quick succession, and she inherited a significant fortune in Ireland derived from the whiskey and slave trade. She uses her wealth to help the poor in and around Galway. We have a rich and copious correspondence. Often, I ask her if she has found a man to love, but she avoids an answer, perhaps out of delicacy for me, and for Father’s memory. She claims she is too busy for such things.

  Uncle Carlos found a new companion, an Italian priest. They live together discreetly in Rome. They come and stay with me here at least twice a year, and it is a consolation to see him happy at last. Patrick has moved to Paris, where he works with the Spanish ambassador and entertains. Sometimes I wish he would take life more seriously, as Father would have wished, but he is his own man. Carlota has recently gone to live with him. I live in Spain half the year. I attend to all my properties there, and I care for my mother’s grave at La Moratalla, where I can relive my final moments with Father.

  Otherwise I live alone with my staff here in Venice, where I have good friends. Kurt visits when he can, and last summer left me with child. He swears he will return for the birth, and that he will soon retire, and leave his wife, and spend the rest of his days with me. He says that he yearns to see me by him in my Japanese wedding robes and veil. But we shall have to see about that. I am content with things as they are. For now, Father’s gift is safely stowed away, except for the dagger that never leaves my breast.

  Williamstown, Paris, and Madrid, 2017–2018