Reiko wanted to stop him from going but could only nod her acceptance. "Thank you, Taka-chan. When you return, I know you and Shinobu will need to join the other men. I will prepare food for you and the others, and then I will take care of Noburo's body."
"But, Mother—"
"I will help her."
Both turned toward the newcomer. Hanako stood a respectful distance from them, Baby Yasa tied to her back. She bowed to Reiko. "It would be my honor to assist you, Nakamura-san."
****
Hiro felt his stomach clench at the sight of his wife entering the Nakamura home. She knew the flares meant the ronin were here. Why had she subjected herself and their baby to such danger? She could have come in contact with the ronin cutting through the woods. He forced himself to breathe normally. At least now she would not be alone. The Nakamura brothers had agreed to wait here and inform the rest of the locals while he and Ginjiro looked for the ronin camp. He nodded his readiness to Ginjiro, and they slipped into the woods.
****
Hideyori paced, tracing a path around the dying fire. He was alone, since all the men had left him to hunt earlier that afternoon. As the sun began to sink behind the trees, he grew more and more agitated. The men had been gone for hours, and he was hungry. Whatever happened to strong, reliable samurai who valiantly fought simply for the honor of dying for one's warlord? These men are pond scum, not fit to wash my sandals. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rage, but the stench of the camp made him regret the action.
There had to be a better way. He had offered every incentive he could think of to entice stronger, more intelligent warriors. But he was stuck with a rag-tag group of vermin who were here because they had nowhere else to go.
He had been a good leader, he thought. Strong men had quaked before him. At one time his lands had spread far and wide, and his wealth had been unlimited. His courtesans, kept in each village of his lands, had dressed in only the finest silks. It was a shame none of them had managed to give him an heir, but that couldn't be helped.
The sun sank behind the trees, taking with it the warmth of the day, and he paced around the dying fire, pausing to warm his hands. Hopefully, the men would return soon and revive this fire by whatever means they used. He knew wood was needed but had no tools to cut firewood, nor any idea of how to use them. Cutting wood was work for the underlings he hired, not for a nobleman like himself.
Perhaps they would come with some decent food, or perhaps a woman who could cook. He hadn't had a decent meal since he had been forced to leave his castle. These foul creatures certainly didn't know how to create anything resembling the meals he'd grown used to as a daimyo. Perhaps his next move would be to take over one of the better homes in the area.
The voice of approaching men's voices shook him from his reverie, and he hid behind a tree until he knew who was coming. As the crowd drew nearer, he caught the unmistakable slur of intoxication, the shuffling of unsteady footsteps. His mouth firmed into a scowl. It was bad enough they were incompetent, but their drinking habits made them even more useless.
He stepped out from his hiding place, ready to confront the motley group. They were hampered by their inability to navigate the wooded terrain. It was certainly easy to follow their progress, as they carried torches and belted out a popular drinking song.
Finally, the ragtag bunch made it back to the clearing. They staggered toward the fire, cursing at the lack of warmth from the dying embers. A few of the men knelt at the fire pit, coaxing a flame from the hot logs. Other than an occasional glance, the men ignored him.
Masao Akira, his second in command, entered the clearing. Unlike the others, Akira-san showed none of the effects of alcohol.
"Where have you been?" Hideyori demanded.
Masao threw a dead rabbit, narrowly missing Hideyori's head.
"We were taking target practice." He grabbed some brush, threw it on the fire, and settled himself on a stump.
"One rabbit? Where is the rest of your catch? We have not eaten all day. Couldn't you and your men could have caught enough for a decent meal?"
Masao ignored him, stoking the fire and warming his hands. Finally, when Hideyori thought he could bear it no longer, the soldier spoke.
"We didn't bring anything else to eat because we didn't see any animals worth hunting. Katsuo shot a farmer. I didn't think you wanted him for dinner."
"Farmers have livestock! If you were shooting, why didn't you shoot one of his cows or a chicken? Was your aim that lousy?"
Hideyori regretted his last question when Masao leveled a glare and reached for his bow. "I would be happy to demonstrate my shooting skill, if you wish."
The once-powerful daimyo clamped his mouth closed. He put a hand to his grumbling stomach and turned away.
Chapter Nineteen
The sun descended, affording them less light, but Hiro and Ginjiro pressed on. Following the bank of the stream, they kept their footfalls silent. They had decided the ronin must have camped by the stream in order to take advantage of the water and the fish.
Their outright execution of Noburo baffled the two samurai. The young man had been unarmed, and other than training with the militia groups, had never been a threat to anyone. How could men who had taken the oath of the Bushido have sunk so low? Even though their place in society might no longer exist, their ideals should have been ingrained.
Hiro noted the smell first. The dank, rancid odor of unwashed men. His lip curled in disgust. It was one thing to go unbathed when fighting prevented it, but here in the peaceful woods near a clear stream, there was no excuse. The Shinto priests who had guided him in his youth had always stressed the importance of cleanliness, both physical and spiritual. If these men had ever been samurai, their filthy habits as well as their despicable actions proved their unworthiness.
He pointed ahead to signal their nearness, and Ginjiro nodded in understanding. They slowed their pace even more, careful to prevent detection.
They needn't have bothered. Most of the men gathered around the fire in the clearing were in no condition to fight. A few snored loudly, and others sprawled in various stages of intoxication. Only one man stood. Dressed in a frayed brocade robe, he paced around the fire and berated the men. Another soldier, though he sat with the others, cast a bored, though clear-eyed gaze at the speaker.
Hiro immediately recognized the speaker as Hideyori Kato. He motioned for Ginjiro to circle around to the sober soldier then waited for his friend to get in position. The anger he'd held simmering inside for years came to a boil as Hiro stepped into the clearing. From the corner of his vision, he noticed the soldier sit up, but the man quickly backed down when Ginjiro's sword flashed in front of his face and stopped at his neck.
"It appears you should look elsewhere for 'strong, honorable men,' Kato-san, if this is the response you got from your newspaper ad."
The older man stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Hiro, and his eyes widened in recognition. "Tanaka-san?"
"Why have you moved your operations here to the north, Hideyori? What happened to all your holdings on Honshu?"
Hideyori scowled. "The Emperor seized my lands. His Imperial Guard took over my castle, my lands, even my army! Those worthless soldiers wouldn't even fight for me!"
Hiro laughed. "Why would they fight for a dishonorable man against the emperor?"
"You dare to speak to me that way? I could have you beheaded."
"You would have to do it yourself." Hiro gestured toward the inebriated soldiers. Those who were still awake stared uncomprehendingly at them. "Your minions are in no condition to take orders. Why would you think about recruiting trash like them? These are the very men you announced you would eliminate!"
Hiro noticed a few of the soldiers had roused themselves at his insults. But before they could seize their weapons, another man leaped into the clearing and kicked the swords out of their reach. Watanabe stood in front of the men, his sword raised and ready to cut down anyone who dared to rise.
Could Kato-san be convinced to surrender?
Hideyori drew himself to his full height. "The men I recruit are none of your concern. I am the Daimyo—"
"The daimyo class has been abolished. You have no power."
"I have more power than you! The samurai class also has been abolished." He cast a cunning grin at Hiro. "You should come and work for me. I would pay you very well."
"Your money is worthless to me. I would not carry a sword for anyone as unscrupulous as you."
"Then you will die. There are plenty who would fight for me."
"Worthless vermin who would shoot an innocent man for target practice? The man they killed had more honor than this entire group together." Hiro stepped closer. "A mother, a wife, two children, and three brothers are mourning because of that senseless murder. That is not the teaching of the Bushido — the Way of the Warrior."
Hideyori reached toward the body of one of his unconscious soldiers and drew the man's long sword. "You dishonor me," he cried, "and now you must die."
Hiro was stunned. Kato-san was almost twice his age and had never done his own fighting. This challenge was suicidal. The elder man rushed forward, prompting Hiro to unsheath his own sword, though he used it only to deflect the blows aimed at him.
Over and over, Hideyori swung the heavy sword. It was like sparring with a beginner, Hiro thought. His opponent's technique was clumsy and ineffective, and the weight of the weapon quickly tired him. The thrusts slowed, the arcs became erratic, but still he fought on. Sweat poured down his face, and he blinked, trying to see.
Hiro was vaguely aware of the circle of men who surrounded them. Had the drunken soldiers roused themselves enough to fight? Where was Ginjiro? He didn't hear any other swords connecting but didn't dare interrupt his concentration to look around. A break in his attention could be fatal.
The elder man clumsily swung the weapon around his head. He tried to stay on the offensive, but his long robe dragged in the dirt, tripping him up, and his eyes shone with desperation. Hiro had several opportunities to cut him down but couldn't bring himself to do so. He simply fended off the older man's ineffectual swipes of the sword.
The smell of burning fabric alerted Hiro. The long hem of Hideyori's robe had dragged over the fire and the flames worked their way up the garment.
"Kato-san, your clothes are on fire!" Hiro would have pulled him away from the flames, but couldn't put down his sword while the older man continued to swing his weapon.
"I don't believe you. You're just trying to trying to distract me." Hideyori fought on, his flaming coat trailing behind him. His frantic movements only fanned the fire, and by the time he understood the danger, the flames had engulfed him. He dropped his sword and screamed.
"Masao! Help me!"
With his free hand, Hiro grabbed Kato by the arm and dragged the smaller man to the ground. He pulled off the heavy robe and rolled the burning man in the dirt, extinguishing the flames. When he knelt to check for injuries, Kato pushed him away and struggled to sit up. In the firelight, the man's face and arms glowed bright red from his burns. His long hair was singed, and he struggled to speak.
"You may think you have defeated me, Tanaka-san, but my men will avenge me," he gasped as he reached for his sword.
"If anyone harms Hiro, you will all die." Ginjiro spoke for the first time, startling the older man.
Hideyori cast a quick glance around, and his eyes opened wide. The soldiers who were awake enough to understand what was happening huddled together in fear. Glancing around, Hiro was nearly as surprised as Hideyori.
Gun barrels pointed at them from behind every tree. Apparently, the men of the village had followed them into the woods.
"You are surrounded, Kato-san," Ginjiro taunted. "And you are seriously outnumbered. What will you do now?"
"You will never take me," the older man declared. "I will die with dignity." Then, before anyone could stop him, the former daimyo plunged the blade into his abdomen.
Hiro rushed to Hideyori's side, but the sword had done its damage. Hideyori Kato would no longer bring fear and suffering to their village.
Around them, several of the gun barrels lowered. A few of the villagers, led by Fukazawa and Kobayashi, entered the clearing and quickly disarmed Kato's men.
Sato-san came forward. "We grew concerned for you, Tanaka-san," he said, "but we weren't sure what to do. It was your wife who came up with this plan."
"My wife? She is here?"
"Yes. I couldn't stay away." Hanako stepped out from behind one of the trees, holding a rifle in each hand.
Hiro recognized the old, dusty guns found in the Nakamura's shed. "You figured out how to load these?"
"Load them? With what?"
Hiro groaned. He cast a quick look to be sure all the ronin were still guarded by men with swords then bent to whisper to his wife. "You came with empty guns?"
She colored. "I hoped the sight of all the guns would be enough to make them think you had an advantage."
Hiro's mouth twitched. His wife never ceased to surprise him. He reached out and caressed her cheek. "You little fool. You could have been hurt." Looking over her shoulder, he noticed she didn't wear her baby-pack. "Where is Yasa?" he asked.
"He is at the Nakamura home. Reiko and Yoshi promised to guard him well."
At least she hadn't brought the baby into the camp.
Chapter Twenty
Friends and neighbors gathered around the Nakamura family, facing the funeral pyre. Thanks to the incredibly short confrontation, Noburo Nakamura was the village's only casualty from the conflict with the ronin.
Reiko knelt on her mat next to Noburo's widow, stoically facing the casket. Her sons surrounded her. Shinobu, now head of the household, sat on her right. His shoulders drooped, as the burden of his responsibility seemed to settle heavily on them. Yoshi sat behind Shinobu, struggling valiantly to keep the tears from falling. Taka, seated behind his mother, stared vacantly ahead, his expression cold. Two priests stood on the other side of the body, chanting prayers. Ginjiro stood nearby.
Standing with the other guests, Hanako watched the proceedings and added her own prayer for Reiko. The dead man was Reiko's child, had once been carried in her body, held in her arms, fed with her milk. Hanako's heart constricted at the thought of anything happening to little Yasa, who now snoozed contently in his pack. It was not the natural order of things to bury a child.
The pyre was lit, and the blaze soon engulfed the wooden box in which Noburo's remains lay. The priests continued to chant, their droning voices adding to the surrealism of the day. Noburo's death had brought about the final confrontation with the ronin; because of the confrontation, the threat of danger was finally over. Now, the villagers were here to mourn with the Nakamura family.
The blaze roared and then died down. One by one, the guests came up to the pyre, bowed respectfully, and then left. The family would stay to place Noburo's bones into an urn, which would eventually rest in the family plot, next to the remains of his father.
****
Since the Nakamura home was the farthest from the village, most people passed the Tanaka land on their way back to their own homes. Everyone wanted to thank Tanaka-san personally for his role in saving their lives and their homes. Hiro was uncomfortable with the praise, but graciously acknowledged each admirer, insisting that it was their own bravery, as well as assistance from his friends, that caused the victory.
As people left the Tanaka home, their mood was lighter and voices became louder. Their mourning was done and there was sure to be a celebration in the village tonight.
Hanako moved to the rear of the house. Little Yasa had become fussy, and it was time for him to sleep. She gently placed him on his ofuton, stroking his downy head as he settled into slumber. If the gods were willing, Yasa would grow into a fine, strong man like his father. He would not be a samurai, for that way of life was gone. But with a father like Hiro, he would learn the values of the Bushido, "the Way of the Warrior". He
would be a noble, disciplined man.
She continued to kneel there beside her son, softly humming a lullaby tucked into the deepest recesses of her memory. Had her mother knelt beside her like this, humming softly, praying for her future happiness?
The light outside the windows began to fade. It was past time for her to prepare the evening meal. She gave Yasa's chubby cheek one final caress, stood, and slid the door closed before going to the kitchen.
She found Hiro there, making tea. Aware of her presence, he looked up. "Yasa-chan is asleep?"
"Yes. He's had a full day. He's always happy to see other people. I was afraid he would disrupt the funeral this morning, but he was content."
He poured a cup of the fragrant brew and passed it to her. "He is an intelligent young man. He sees no one else speaks, so he remains silent, too."
Hanako dipped her head toward her cup, hiding her smile. How like a man, to see the child's silence as a measure of his intelligence, rather than a show of contentment. Nevertheless, it was pleasing to see Hiro so proud of his son. She prayed father and son would continue to have a strong relationship.
"Do you want to go into the village tonight?" she asked.
He cast a curious look at her. "Why?"
"It looks like a celebration has begun."
They both looked toward the open window at the fireworks lighting the sky. "I can cook something quickly if you want to join your friends."
He turned to her, his look melting her. "Everything I want to celebrate and everyone I need to celebrate with are here in this house."
Dinner preparations were forgotten as a different hunger was fed.
****
Reiko stood at the doorway of her home, watching the fireworks light up the night sky. Noburo had always loved fireworks, she remembered. He would have enjoyed the celebration. The memories brought a bittersweet smile to her face, even as the pain of losing him squeezed her heart. How she would miss him. It had been torture, placing his bones in the urn that now rested in his home. She didn't begrudge them to Noburo's wife, but wished she could have kept a part of her son with her.
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