by Walt Mussell
“I . . . am . . . surprised to find you here.” Nobuhiro clenched his fists but left them at his sides.
Nishioji took a long breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes, Nobuhiro, I suppose you would be. I treated you poorly when we were younger.” He bowed to Nobuhiro. “I beg your forgiveness.”
Sen looked back at Nobuhiro. His shoulders and face relaxed. His eyes glanced toward her. How much pain had he endured as a child? How much teasing from bullies? He had no support from his father and no love of a mother. Was that why he left the castle?
“I . . . appreciate your words . . . in support of my father.” His expression was a light grimace.
Yoshi shook his head. “I believe both of you.” He looked directly at Nobuhiro. “But I still don’t know if I trust your father.”
Nobuhiro lowered his head. “Then please trust your Father, the one to whom you pray. No one in my family wishes to harm Christians.”
Yoshi smiled, his arms raised slightly, palms facing out. “Asking for the trust of my God? You have learned much. If there is more you wish to know, I offer my guidance.”
“Thank you,” Nobuhiro said.
Yoshi bowed and extended his hand outward. “Go with God’s blessing.” His tone was reverential. “May He smile upon you.”
Sen smiled and her entire body tingled. “He already has. He has led us here to find you.”
###
Nobuhiro didn’t know what surprised him more, having found other Christians or discovering that Nishioji, the tormentor from his childhood, was one of them. For Nishioji to apologize for actions he committed as a child was unexpected. Nishioji’s station was far above his.
This religion had changed him. It had made him a better person.
Was there substance to Sen’s beliefs?
Nobuhiro and Sen left the restaurant, waving farewell before turning toward the castle. He moved closer, narrowing the amount of space between the two of them. He didn’t expect trouble. Still, given the attack on her and Omi, and his father’s charge that he protect the Goami family, he rose to his duty.
The midday sun made the air feel heavy. The streets were lively with people sampling the various offerings of the street vendors and businesses that bustled with customers. A grunt from behind made Nobuhiro shift left as two men carrying a palanquin hurried around him. The men’s posture indicated the lacquered vehicle carried a passenger. A difficult job in this weather. They reached the intersection ahead and turned right at the square pole that marked the street names. A statue of a smiling Buddha rested on a pedestal next to the pole.
A burning feeling filled Nobuhiro’s chest, but it wasn’t painful. Sen avoided his gaze, her beautiful face casting a permanent frown. He wanted to talk, but any discussion would have been difficult out in the open.
As they neared the castle, the land turned grassy. Sen broke the silence. “What does it mean, this new order?”
A low-pitched temple gong sounded in the area, adding weight to the heavy air. “I don’t know, but I’ll ask as soon as we return to the castle.”
Sen dipped her head. Her lips were thin and slightly parted. “So, you plan on speaking to your brothers?”
He glanced at the wall that surrounded the castle grounds, then turned back to her. “Yes, the minute I can find them. What is wrong?”
She glanced away, her eyes a mix of hesitation and fear that she tried to hide. “You know where the church is now. I trust your brothers, but I’m still concerned. Omi and I have no idea who locked us in that old church.”
Nobuhiro tensed, the muscles in his forearms stretched taut. “I’ll be vigilant.”
Sen lowered her chin. “I’m not asking only for that. The place needs to remain a secret.” She held out her hands, palms up. “Nishioji’s faith needs to remain a secret.”
His stomach began to roil. She was protecting him. He understood the need for secrecy. Keeping Sen safe meant keeping Nishioji’s secret quiet. Here she was, protecting Nishioji. It was hard to bear.
Nobuhiro said nothing as he and Sen passed through the entrance, nodding to the guards, who appeared pleased to see him. He said goodbye to Sen and his thoughts turned to his brothers. He put his foot squarely on the ground and began walking, crunching the small pebbles on the road beneath his feet.
He would find out about the edict, but what would he do next? To not tell them about the church could place Sen in danger.
But if he spoke about it, Sen would never forgive him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nobuhiro found Toshi on the grounds, demonstrating fighting postures to ten young boys. His brother eyed him and nodded before focusing back on his charges.
The boys were lined up in two rows behind Toshi. Each carried a bamboo sword and wore a light jacket, with pants that reached his knees. Each boy also wore tabi socks and sandals. Hakamas were the proper attire for kendo as the long skirt hid leg movement. Toshi probably had the boys dress in knee-length pants so he could inspect their footwork.
The boys were practicing two-strike techniques, striking body level to catch an opponent’s hand and then up to strike the face. Poised on toes. Sword out. Glide forward. Strike and strike. Repeat.
Nobuhiro brooded as he watched his brother’s polished performance and saw the boys repeat the moves. As a child, he couldn’t even handle this. He always dragged his left foot. Would these boys have heard stories about him? What would they think?
After thirty minutes, Toshi ended the class, stating, “Before you begin your game, I have a special guest I’d like you to meet.”
Nobuhiro’s pulse raced as he heard these words and saw his brother motion him over. He froze, not sure what to do.
Toshi called out to him, “Nobuhiro, come over. These boys want to meet you.”
They wanted what? Nobuhiro puzzled over this but walked to where his brother waited. He looked at the faces of the boys and saw something he didn’t expect, eagerness and flashing eyes.
Toshi handled the introductions as each young man walked up to greet Nobuhiro, bowing low and glancing up at the same time. The introductions then completed, Nobuhiro looked at Toshi and shook his head as the boys headed out to begin their game. “I don’t understand. Why were those boys excited about meeting me?”
Toshi laughed, as if surprised he needed to explain. “For someone with tofu in your head, you should absorb more of what’s around you. These boys admire you.”
“Admire? Why?”
Toshi’s eyebrows rose, and then he slapped Nobuhiro on the back. “You took on a mounted archer with a cloth-covered sword. You faced Funaki with an iron clamp.”
Nobuhiro stared at his brother. “I survived. There was no glory in it.”
“Not true. Remember, the cloth-covered sword belonged to Lord Kinoshita’s father. Word reached Lord Kinoshita about the activities of his father’s sword. Lord Kinoshita was impressed.”
Nobuhiro tried to hide his grin and at least keep his mouth shut. He had come to the attention of the castle lord? Would Lord Kinoshita make such a comment in the presence of his father? “I am humbled to hear that.”
Toshi beamed. “You should be. You battled both men to a standstill. Both ran. A samurai must be prepared to use whatever he has available to defend his honor and the honor of those he serves. It is simple to explain that concept. It is a challenge for them to learn it. Your actions helped them understand. They will not forget.”
Nobuhiro’s heart swelled. Young charges now admired his actions. It was difficult to comprehend after a lifetime of feeling inadequate.
“What brings you here?” Toshi asked.
“The edict on the confiscation of swords. What’s this all about?”
Toshi didn’t respond, instead staring out at the grounds. Nobuhiro turned as well. The boys were now playing a game of kemari with an eight-inch deerskin ball, kicking, passing, running, and catching. Shouts of “Ariya” erupted when players kicked the ball high into the air, combined with “Ari” for each pass. Ano
ther game Nobuhiro was unable to participate in as a child.
“Let’s walk,” Toshi said. “We can talk on the way.”
###
Sen cleaned up her area in the women’s quarters and tidied the rest of the room. She surveyed the room after she was finished. No dust on the tatami mat floor. She walked over to close the futon closet, sliding the door to reveal a tiger painting. On the opposite wall hung a large horizontal scroll with handwritten seasonal poetry. To the side, two paper screens were open, allowing in fresh air. An alcove was between the two windows. On the raised stoop sat a vase with arranged flowers.
“You’ve been back nearly an hour and you still haven’t come by to see me,” Omi said, startling Sen.
Sen flashed a smile. “I have a lot to think about.”
“You’re always thinking about something.” Omi’s playful look relaxed the tension in Sen’s shoulders. “If work helps you think, I have to wipe down the walls and screens in the mistress’s quarters. You can do that for me.”
“No thanks. I’ll leave that to you.”
“What are you thinking about? You look almost happy.”
Sen looked around to see if anyone was close by. Should she trust her? Omi was the best friend she had here and had twice expressed an interest in Christianity. Still, she didn’t know her that well.
She decided to take the risk.
“I found a group of Christians in town.” The words sprang from her lips, matched by the wide smile she knew she now showed. She couldn’t contain her excitement.
Omi grasped Sen’s hands. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. When can we meet them?”
Sen’s eyes widened and she smiled. “We? You really want to meet them?”
“Yes, I do. I have watched how your faith sustains you. Even when we were locked up, you never wavered. I was impressed.”
Sen’s heart thumped against her chest. She had found a place to join other Christians. Now, she had someone to share it with. It was truly a special day.
Then she grasped the edges of her kimono, rubbing the fabric in her fingers. One thing would make the day even better. Would Nobuhiro want to join them?
Likely no.
She loved Nobuhiro. He was the man for her.
But he was not a Christian.
A nonbeliever held her heart.
###
Nobuhiro and Toshi entered a room adjacent to one of the samurai quarters. It was sparse with a wooden floor. A battle scene was painted on the closet, with words of exhortation on scrolls that decorated the walls. Toshi motioned for Nobuhiro to take a seat as he walked to the window and stared outside. Nobuhiro declined, heading to the window himself to stand beside his brother. They had discussed minor things so far but not the topic on his mind.
He looked out the window and saw the courtyard that led to the entrance. Parties of samurai and servants moved across the grounds, neither intersecting with the other. The servants swept the paths, falling to their knees and bowing their heads to the ground when a samurai came near. Other servants scrubbed outer walls and climbed to the top of the gate, buffing it with rags. A typical afternoon, at least as he remembered them.
He walked back and sat on the floor, crossing his legs in front of him. “What is it? What are you waiting for?”
His brother stood motionless except for a light-tapping toe and slight flinches of his neck. “I was looking to see if Uji was coming. However, I don’t see him.”
“Are we going to talk about this?”
Toshi looked back. His lips thinned as his face tightened. He stretched his arms and then walked over and sat on a raised platform nearby, crossing his legs like Nobuhiro. Whatever his concerns, he hid them well. He took a deep breath and then leaned forward. “The new edict? Yes, it’s true.”
The simple words cut deep into Nobuhiro’s flesh. “Why?”
“The official reason is that the regent wishes to melt the swords of the people to create precious artifacts for various temples.”
Nobuhiro shook his head. “And the real reason?”
“He fears revolt.”
Nobuhiro groaned inwardly, his gut sloshing like a stormy river. Yoshi had been right. “Revolt? From whom?”
Toshi coughed as if the words would choke him at the source. “Any who would challenge his authority. Nobunaga also faced revolt from the people.”
Nobuhiro rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “The regent actually thinks the populace capable?”
“You forget. The regent is lowborn. He earned his name when he came to power. If he could rise from a peasant status, so could another leader.”
“Then this has nothing to do with Christians?” Nobuhiro rubbed his chin. The contradiction of action and words remained incomprehensible.
Toshi grinned and shook his head, reaching across to grab Nobuhiro’s shoulder and pat it. “Christians are only a pretext. The regent fears them because the missionaries take their orders from foreign countries. That was the logic behind the expulsion. However, it’s just political. Homegrown threats are greater. If it meant staying in power, he would build Christian churches in every city. As with any leader, the regent’s only concern is self-preservation.”
Nobuhiro looked at the wall and then at his brother. “Then his fears of an uprising are local. Without arms, it would be difficult for the people to mount a threat.”
Toshi nodded. “Yes, it would be. The people have been through much. People are susceptible at these times. It is why the Christian message has been so well received. Some Buddhist sects offer peace, but fears of renewed militancy remain. These Christians offer a new way of peace without preconditions.”
“Then why the edict? Why attack the Christians?”
“Because then the regent can focus on the true problem, the regional governors. The regent doubts the loyalty of several of them. They continue to quarrel with one another, fighting for position like family members fighting over too little money. This breeds violence. Nobunaga took his own life to deny an assassin. The regent fears the same.”
Nobuhiro massaged the back of his neck, applying some deep pressure. “Then why not just apply this sword edict to the regional governors?”
“By mandating this charity that people surrender their weapons, the regent can forestall numerous threats to his rule. More importantly, he can disarm his most vocal opponents without losing any of his own men. Weapons are costly. Sometimes it is easier to bankrupt an enemy than defeat him in battle.”
Nobuhiro nodded in agreement. Toshi spoke the truth. It didn’t make the words easier to digest. They carried a taste more bitter than tea leaves.
Heavy footsteps from behind caught Nobuhiro’s attention. He turned, pausing to place them. A moment later, Uji entered, his face more dour than usual. He did not wish to convey the news he carried. Nobuhiro stood to bow to his oldest brother.
Uji acknowledged him and waved his hand, indicating that Nobuhiro should sit. He joined them on the floor and then glanced at Toshi. “Have you told him yet?”
Toshi exhaled and paused, looking still as if his thoughts carried a new burden. “Not everything.”
“About the sword hunt? I’ve heard. Will the two of you lead any of the searches?”
Uji scratched his arms. “All of the retainers will be involved. I do not agree with it, but it is our duty and we will carry it out.”
Toshi and Uji both wore pained expressions. Both would follow orders. Nobuhiro’s fury about the edict now carried a twinge of pity. If he were a samurai, he would be following the same orders, experiencing the same regret.
His older brothers glanced at each other and then looked away. Neither made eye contact with him.
Nobuhiro’s chest tightened. He rubbed it to relieve the stress, but the pull within increased, drawing tension from his brothers to him. “Is there something else?”
Uji nodded. “Yes. It concerns our Father.”
“What is it?”
Uji drew a sharp breath throu
gh his teeth. His stoic resolve now timid. The news had touched him. The proper words proved difficult. “Father met with his former supervisor this morning. He received some disquieting news. His supervisor has been ordered to take his own life. He met with Father privately to let him know.”
Nobuhiro’s mouth dropped open, but little air passed through his constricted throat. Their father had served this man for many years. He had been a friend to the family. Nobuhiro struggled to regain his composure. “That was kind of him. Father must have been moved. Was it a final goodbye? Did he offer Father the honor of serving as his second?”
The corners of Uji’s mouth turned up slightly before flattening into a thin line. “Nobuhiro, you left home a man in age only. You still possess the idealized view of being a samurai.”
He stared at his eldest brother. “What do you mean? A second stands beside the one taking his life. Sword held high. Ready to end the pain of a friend who has made the ultimate choice in life. It is a moment of supreme honor. It is to be revered.”
Toshi stepped beside him and placed his hand on Nobuhiro’s shoulder. “Nobuhiro, it is a moment of honor only for one person. There is no honor in being a second at a seppuku. Only everlasting embarrassment if you miss.”
Nobuhiro studied Toshi’s face. He had made a joke in a tense situation, yet he did not seem to be lighthearted. His jaw was tense and muscles tight, more serious than Nobuhiro had ever seen him. Uji, normally a calm presence, appeared to have trouble breathing. Sweat beaded his forehead.
Nobuhiro licked his lips. “There’s something else, isn’t there? What aren’t you telling me?”
Toshi glanced at Uji. Uji nodded. Permission to speak granted.
“It’s the reason his mentor had to commit seppuku. Apparently, he made a plea to both Kinoshita and the regent on Father’s behalf. It was this plea that brought about the suicide order from the regent.”
“What was the plea about?” Nobuhiro asked.
“We don’t know,” Toshi said.
Nobuhiro exhaled softly, feeling a weight on his body that foretold what Uji had yet to utter. “So he feels responsible. Is he going to—?”