by Maya Snow
I walked through the crowd to kneel once more at Master Goku’s side. Choji, Tatsuya, and Ko were kneeling beside him, their heads bowed in prayer.
Choji stood up as I approached, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I swallowed hard, but it was no good. I could not hold back the tears.
Tatsuya got to his feet. “Goku-sensei was like a father to me, and Ken-ichi murdered him,” he said in a bitter voice. “I am not sure he deserved the mercy you showed him in letting him go.”
“Goku-san was like a father to me, too,” I murmured. “We have each lost two fathers, Tatsuya—our own and Sensei.”
Choji squeezed my shoulder once with his powerful hand, and then he patted Tatsuya on the back in a comforting way before turning to speak to the crowd. “The tournament must be suspended,” he said, spreading his arms wide to encompass everyone present. “I beg all of you to accept our apologies. Return to your homes. Leave us to mourn, and to prepare for the funeral of our Master.”
Merchants and craftsmen shuffled and murmured. Choji gave a few instructions and people began to move away from the fight arena. Some of them came forward to bow respectfully to Master Goku’s body.
Hana was still kneeling at Goku’s side. I put my arm lightly around her shoulders. The touch of my hand on her shoulder seemed to release a wave of emotion. She began to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks to wet the sandy floor. There was nothing I could say to comfort her, so I simply held her for a moment. A few men and women glanced curiously at us.
Tatsuya touched my arm. “Why don’t you both go inside?” he suggested. “You can get away from the crowds.”
I looked at Hana, and she nodded. Tatsuya helped us both to our feet. “I’ll stay and help move Master Goku,” he said quietly.
A few samurai came to stand in a row nearby, hands on the hilts of their swords, as if forming a guard of honor to escort the Master to his resting place.
Hana and I began to make our way across the arena, weaving through the crowd. All at once, she stopped in her tracks and stared at the cherry blossom trees on the other side of the courtyard.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Beneath the cherry blossom trees,” she murmured, her voice so quiet I could barely hear her. “What did he mean, Kimi? Beneath the cherry blossoms…”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“I want to look over there.”
“We can’t,” I said, glancing around at all the people. A few of them had gone, but most were still milling around, talking quietly as they packed up their belongings. “Not now, Hana. But we can come back later tonight, when everyone’s gone.”
Her gaze still seemed drawn to the trees. A breeze stirred the branches and more blossoms fell softly to the ground. But at last she nodded and let me lead her away through the gardens. Gravel crunched beneath our feet. The sounds from the courtyard grew more and more faint.
As we passed the meditation room, Hana hesitated. A frown creased her brow. Abruptly she pulled away from me and hurried up the steps. She kicked off her shoes and entered silently.
I followed her inside, expecting Hana to kneel and perhaps meditate. But her stride didn’t hesitate. She made her way across the room to the opposite wall, where she stopped and gazed at a long scroll hanging on a red silk ribbon.
I caught my breath.
The scroll was covered in elegant brushstrokes. Beautiful thick lines swept upward, curved out, and then fluttered in a series of tiny white paint flecks…the perfect depiction of a cherry tree in blossom.
“‘Beneath the cherry blossoms,’” Hana said in a soft, breathless voice, and she reached sideways to hold my hand as we both looked down.
Below the scroll was a low lacquered table. The front was screened with a blue silk curtain.
I kneeled down and drew aside the curtain. Under the table was a cedarwood casket. My hands trembled as I lifted the casket and set it on top of the table. I glanced up at Hana, a question in my eyes.
She nodded. “Open it,” she whispered.
Carefully I lifted the lid.
A breath of perfumed air seemed to puff out, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms. Peering inside the casket, I saw seven tiny scrolls, each with a broken wax seal and a scarlet ribbon.
I took out the first one and carefully unfurled it. “Oh, Hana!” I murmured, immediately recognizing the elegant brushstrokes and perfect kanji. “It’s a letter from Mother.”
Dearest Goku,
How glad I was to receive your news that my daughters are in your custody. I know that you will keep them safe from harm, and that their well-being is one worry that I can let go of….
My mother’s writing blurred as tears sprang to my eyes. I could almost hear her voice, saying the words.
“Mother has reached the town,” I said to Hana, quickly reading the rest of the letter. “She is staying with an old friend of Father’s.”
Hana reached sideways and gripped my arm. “And Moriyasu?”
I scanned the scroll. “He’s well,” I said, relief making me light-headed. “She says he asks for news of us every day, and she’s glad that she can now tell him where we are.”
My hands moved among the other three scrolls, hastily unrolling each one, scanning, and moving on to the next. “She and Goku have been corresponding for the past few weeks,” I said. “But she doesn’t say where they are.”
“We will find them,” Hana said, clutching one of the letters in her hand. She took a deep breath, and I could see the resolve on her face. “Our time here at the dojo has given us strength and purpose. Master Goku may not be here, Kimi, but we will carry him with us in our talents and sword skills.”
I put the letters back into the box and embraced my sister. “Together, we can do anything.”
As we held each other, Hana continued, “We will search for Mother and Moriyasu…and we will find them. And one day, we will avenge Father and Harumasa and Nobuaki, and the honor of the Yamamoto family will be restored.”
Our journey had only just begun.
EPILOGUE
I can move as silently as a ghost, a kami spirit walking the earth. I can make my way through a grand celebration at the Shogun’s court, rubbing shoulders with nobles and lords.
But they will pass me by, never knowing I am there.
When I move past a shrine in a forest, the few who stand to silently pray do not see me at all.
I walk alone along the waters of the eastern sea, where only the sunset watches me.
Almost alone, but not quite.
Because those who have died on my path walk with me every step.
That day, kneeling in the meditation room with Hana at my side, I knew it was time to leave the safety of the dojo and follow a new path.
I knew that one day my softly treading footsteps would carry me forward to meet Mother and Moriyasu….
And I hoped that my courage would allow me to restore the honor of my family. My heart was filled with hope that, once we were together, I would be able to keep them safe.
How could I have known what tragedies awaited us?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Helen Hart
Thanks also to Dr. Phillip Harries
of The Queen’s College, Oxford,
for his invaluable advice and expertise
About the Author
Maya Snow once had an aikido teacher who told her that the best place for a tree to hide is in the forest. Maya decided that the best place for a writer to hide is among her own words.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Credits
Jacket art © 2008 by Brandon Dorman
Jacket design by Ray Shappell
Copyright
SISTERS OF THE SWORD. Copyright © 2008 by Working Partners Limited. Series created by Working Partners Limited. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have
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EPub © Edition DECEMBER 2008 ISBN: 9780061985638
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