Contents
List of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Bibliography
White
Serpent
Castle
White
Serpent
Castle
Lensey Namioka
TUTTLE PUBLISHING
Boston • Rutland, Vermont • Tokyo
Originally published in 1976 by David McKay Company, Inc. Paperback edition first published in 2004 by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd., with editorial offices at 364 Innovation Drive, North Clarendon, VT 05759 U.S.A.
Copyright © 1976 Lensey Namioka
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Control Number 2004105506
ISBN 978-1-4629-0146-3
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First paperback edition
08 07 06 05 04 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Design by Linda Carey
List of Characters
Zenta and Matsuzo, two ronin looking for work
Lord Okudaira, commander of a strategic castle in the north of Japan, recently dead
Chamberlain of the castle
Jihei, henchman of the chamberlain
Envoy, sent by Lord Okudaira’s feudal overlord to mediate in the succession dispute
Saemon, chief retainer of the envoy
Ume, old woman serving Lady Tama
Young maid, serving Lady Tama
Lady Kaede, Lord Okudaira’s second wife
Female warriors, serving Lady Kaede
Yoshiteru, Lord Okudaira’s son by his second wife
Lady Tama, Lord Okudaira’s daughter by his first wife
Shigeteru, Lord Okudaira’s son by his first wife
Chapter 1
The two young samurai paused at a bend in the road. They stood for a moment and looked up at the length of white plastered wall which followed the contours of the hillside and lay as if about to uncoil. Seen from this angle, the castle looked like a huge white snake.
As the two travelers continued on their way, the main portion of the castle gradually came into view. The high point was the watchtower, soaring up into the sky like the head of a serpent poised to strike. The purpose of the castle was wholly military. Yet, seen in the late afternoon sun, the sprawling structure had an impressive grace and beauty.
“The name of the castle must come from its shape,” said Matsuzo.
“The local people tell a different story,” said Zenta. “They say that the name is from the legend of the White Serpent.”
“You mean that ghost story they were telling back at the village?” said Matsuzo. He didn’t want to admit he had been impressed by the story. According to the villagers, the daughter of a former lord of the region had thrown herself into the castle moat and changed into a monstrous white serpent. From that time on, the White Serpent Ghost emerged from its resting place in the moat whenever a crisis threatened.
“Apparently a report is around that the ghost has been seen at the castle recently,” said Zenta.
Whether or not the report about the ghost was true, Matsuzo knew that the crisis was real enough. Lord Okudaira, the commander of the castle, had died a month ago and left his nine-year-old son as heir. These were troubled times. The control of such a strategic castle was of crucial importance. The nine-year-old boy would become the pawn of any unscrupulous man who seized power.
Already Zenta and Matsuzo had heard confusing rumors of a power struggle. According to one story, the chamberlain of the castle wished to make himself the legitimate successor of Lord Okudaira. To strengthen his position, he planned to force Lord Okudaira’s daughter to marry him.
It was because of these rumors that the two men had come. They were ronin, unemployed samurai, going wherever there was promise of violence and confusion. In this struggle for the succession, they might find opportunities for work.
“What do you plan to do?” Matsuzo asked his companion. “Are we going to throw our support behind Lord Okudaira’s young son?”
When Zenta didn’t reply, Matsuzo said, “Surely you’ve decided? The boy is Lord Okudaira’s only son and his official heir.”
“It’s true that the boy is Lord Okudaira’s official heir,” said Zenta. “But he is not the only son. He has an older brother.”
Matsuzo stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his companion. “What? If there is an older son, why isn’t he the successor, then?”
“The older son is missing,” replied Zenta. “People around here haven’t seen him for almost ten years.”
There was a long silence. The two men walked on. Finally Matsuzo said, “How do you happen to know so much about Lord Oku- daira’s family?”
Zenta looked amused. “Since we were looking for work at the castle, I made it a point to learn as much as I could about the situation here. I’m surprised you didn’t take the trouble to find out.”
Under Zenta’s quizzical gaze Matsuzo grew confused. “I suppose I did hear something about it,” he muttered.
With a small shock he realized he knew nothing about his companion’s family background. He had met Zenta a few months ago in a small village. The place was buzzing with talk about the five ronin who had routed a troop of bandits terrorizing the region. When Matsuzo saw Zenta, the leader of the five, he had been surprised to find him very spare of build, with no sign of any unusual strength. Matsuzo had been brought up on a diet of military romances, tales of heroism, and self-sacrifice. Seeing a chance to become the devoted follower of a great warrior, he approached Zenta and asked to be accepted as a pupil.
One by one, Zenta’s other followers left, and Matsuzo soon discovered the reason why. A restlessness possessed Zenta like a disease. When they found well-paying work, he often decided to leave if he disliked the personality of his employer. On several occasions, they had to leave without pay, closely pursued by the fury of their recent master. The romantic tales failed to mention the unpleasant details in the life of a wandering ronin. Matsuzo learned to go for a week without a bath, to eat sweet potatoes when there was no money for rice.
But he stayed on with Zenta. Strangely, it was his love of the romantic tales that helped him to endure the hardships. If the famous hero Yoshitsune trudged many miles
carrying luggage as a porter, then he could put up with a little discomfort, too.
As they walked, Matsuzo stole a glance at Zenta and saw that he showed no anxiety at all. Even with his clothes in tatters, the ronin didn’t seem to care whether or not he would be hired at the castle. The only question was, would he accept Lord Okudaira’s successor as his master?
The chamberlain could not possibly be an acceptable master, thought Matsuzo. The man was a usurper who was trying to gain his position by marrying his lord’s daughter. The local people had been heard to mutter about the White Serpent Ghost whenever the chamberlain’s marriage plan was mentioned, but when Matsuzo tried to question them about the connection, they would become evasive and refuse to meet his eye.
Only the superstitious villagers believed this ghost story, anyway, thought Matsuzo. He was much too intelligent to believe such nonsense. But he unconsciously quickened his steps, for night came very quickly in late October, and he felt an urge to reach the castle before it got dark.
The travelers now reached a thick grove of pine trees that formed a broad green belt around the castle. The trees served two purposes. They prevented the enemy from massing troops to attack the castle, and they screened the activities of the castle’s defenders.
Once inside the shadows of the pine grove, Matsuzo felt the air grow cooler. There was a slight breeze which caused little rustling noises around them. Involuntarily he looked at his feet as he walked and occasionally peered at the underbrush.
Zenta’s voice startled him. “Looking for the White Serpent Ghost? I heard the villagers say that the ghost is always accompanied by some eerie flute music. You’ll get plenty of warning when it comes.”
“I was afraid of tripping over a tree root,” Matsuzo said sheepishly. He decided to distract himself by composing a little poetry. In the military romances, the heroes of old were always composing poetry. It was the mark of a true warrior to dash off a few elegant verses in the midst of danger.
The stealthy sounds of . . .
That didn’t sound right. He tried again.
No birds sing
In the smothering darkness . . .
No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. He abandoned poetry when he saw that the pine forest was thinning out and more light was coming through the trees. Suddenly his heart jumped into his throat as he caught sight of something shiny and white. Then he realized that he was looking at a stretch of water reflecting a white wall. They had reached the outer moat of the castle.
Rising from the moat was a gray wall built of boulders cunningly fitted together. This stone base was surmounted by a white plastered wall containing little round windows. The holes looked like eyes, and the slate tiles on the roof of the wall resembled the scales of a reptile.
Slowly the two ronin crossed the bridge spanning the moat. They did not stop at the huge metal studded gate, which was opened only for persons of rank, but instead turned to a small side door. Zenta gave the door two hard thumps.
After what seemed like a long time, they heard sounds of people moving about. There was another long silence. Zenta raised his hand and thumped the door again, more loudly this time.
“Who are you?” said a voice from a small round window just to their right. “What do you want?”
“My name is Konishi Zenta,” replied the ronin. “My companion and I are seeking employment at the castle.”
There were whispers and the sound of rapid footsteps. Somewhere in the distance another gate was being opened. Matsuzo had the feeling that the people inside were discussing them. It was true that the country had been in a state of civil war for nearly a hundred years, and a troop of strangers approaching the castle would naturally be treated with caution.
But he and Zenta were only two ronin looking for work. There was nothing in their appearances to cause alarm. Matsuzo flattered himself that he still looked like a well-bred young samurai of good family, and Zenta, as always, looked scruffy but utterly harmless. Then why should their arrival be causing so much nervous activity?
Without warning the side door opened quietly, and from the shadow of the door a voice spoke. “Please enter.”
It seemed that they would be asked no further questions. As Matsuzo uneasily followed Zenta through the door, it immediately swung shut behind him with a small thud. The young ronin jumped and looked around quickly. He had just lost his last chance to leave.
The officer who had admitted them and the guards at the gate were all staring at the two arrivals with a strange intensity. Zenta, however, showed no sign of discomfort, but looked calmly about the courtyard until interrupted by the voice of the officer. “Please follow me,” he said curtly to the two ronin.
The outer fortification of the castle consisted of a number of turrets and guard houses, connected by walls or by long, covered corridors. Samurai of lower rank had their quarters in this portion of the castle. The two newcomers and their escort threaded their way through this complex of buildings, making so many turns that Matsuzo soon lost his sense of direction. The mazelike effect was deliberate, for the planners of the castle had made sure that no direct approach to the center was possible.
As they passed, doors and windows slid open, and people leaned out to stare at them. Matsuzo began to find this excessive attention annoying. “One would think that we were badgers in human clothing,” he whispered to Zenta.
The officer turned at Matsuzo’s whispering, and signaled to the escort to press closer.
After a few more turns, they found themselves in front of the inner moat, roughly a concentric circle within the outer moat. The walls of the innermost fortification rose steeply out of the water. Inside these walls were the residences of the castle’s commander and samurai of high rank.
Matsuzo looked down into the stagnant water and wondered if this was the moat mentioned in the legend, where the girl had thrown herself. Was this where the monstrous white serpent rested? Suddenly he gasped and jumped back. He had seen something long and white stirring in the water.
One of the men in the escort laughed, and it was the first light note they had heard since entering the castle grounds. “You probably saw our giant albino carp. That fellow must be at least three feet long, and nobody knows just how old he is.”
“Carp are carnivorous,” remarked Zenta. “This moat would be an ideal place for throwing unwanted things . . . or people.”
The face of the laughing guard darkened, and the party moved silently forward again. Crossing the bridge of the inner moat, they stopped in front of the gate which led to the heart of the castle.
Slowly, the heavy iron studded gate swung open. Waiting for them on the other side was a group of twenty armed men. It was an impressive reception for two penniless ronin.
At the head of the armed men stood a stoutish man of about forty, dressed with a showy richness which caused Matsuzo to wince. The stout man grinned broadly and surveyed the newcomers with satisfaction. “Ah, here you are at last. We have been expecting you.”
Chapter 2
The stout man’s words were heavy with menace, in spite of his smiling face. Hiding his alarm, Zenta bowed deeply to the welcoming party. “We are overwhelmed. But this reception can’t be meant for two insignificant ronin. You must be expecting someone else.”
The stout man smiled even more broadly. “I’m the chamberlain of this castle, in command since Lord Okudaira’s death. I assure you that there is no mistake.”
Zenta looked at the chamberlain and despised what he saw. This, according to rumor, was the ambitious schemer who was trying to marry his lord’s daughter. The chamberlain’s hands were soft and his body pudgy. He had the look of a man who ordered others to do the fighting.
Keeping a respectful expression on his face, Zenta said, “Let me announce our names, then. I am Konishi Zenta, and this is my traveling companion, Ishihara Matsuzo.”
He nudged Matsuzo, who was staring with his mouth open. The young ronin gave a start and stepped forward, managing a creditabl
e bow.
Zenta was aware of someone’s hard stare on him. Standing next to the chamberlain was a tall, muscular samurai with heavy shoulders.
After studying Zenta closely, the samurai bent his head and spoke into the chamberlain’s ear.
The chamberlain nodded and turned to the ronin. “Jihei here tells me that he has heard stories of Konishi Zenta. According to him, your appearance is not consistent with the stories.” “Really?” said Zenta. “I’m not sure whether I should feel flattered or insulted.”
The chamberlain paid no attention to Zenta’s remark. “Disarm these two men and take them into custody,” he ordered the officer at the gate.
Zenta knew that people who met him for the first time were always skeptical of his identity. He remembered Matsuzo’s open doubt and disappointment at their first meeting. But now the chamberlain’s skepticism was dangerous. Zenta had just thought of a possible explanation for their ominous reception.
He had heard some talk that Lord Okudaira’s older son was planning to return and claim his inheritance. He had not expected the chamberlain to take the rumor seriously, but if the chamberlain suspected that one of them was the missing older son, he would consider their arrival most inconvenient. Zenta didn’t doubt that they would be taken somewhere to be quietly executed. It began to look as if coming to the castle was a serious mistake.
Zenta glanced quickly at Matsuzo and saw that the young ronin was waiting for a signal to draw his sword. Even if Matsuzo had not guessed the chamberlain’s intention, he seemed to know how desperate their situation was. They had no chance of fighting their way out of the castle, but anything was better than going unresisting to their death.
Zenta had only one hope. He had been counting on finding forces opposed to the chamberlain within the castle. If he could delay his arrest and attract their attention, they might come to his aid.
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