by Gaynor Baker
Katharine would have to be told. And, he realized, she would need to hear the whole truth
When he walked into their quarters, she was not there. He walked over to the sack on his table and took out the game of Go. It was a strategy game requiring concentration.
And concentration was the very thing he needed to plan their next move. He studied the board he„d set up. The four dragons glared back at him, daring him to make the right choice.
Katharine entered just as he selected one and looked for its match. His face was a study in single-mindedness. She watched him for a few moments. He appeared not to notice then looked up absently.
“Hello.” He smiled only slightly.
Katharine, noticing his unusual seriousness asked quietly, “Is anything wrong, Fujito-Sama—Isamu?”
He sighed. “Yes. Come, why don"t we walk in the gardens?” He stood up in one fluid motion and went to the shoji.
Outside the air was cool. A breeze had sprung up after the heat of the day and now the sun was inching its way west it was not as hot.
“We have a problem.” He began slowly. He led her over to a stone seat. “Did Kimika tell you why you were sent to Kanazawa?”
Katharine shook her head.
“Well, I was afraid for you. You see the government of Yamato, what we call these Islands doesn"t like foreigners. The authorities consider any whites barbarians and adanger to national security.”
“But what about the Dutch? And the English in Hirado?”
“Good question.” He smiled. “As long as foreigners stay where the government wants them, where they believe they are no danger to the peaceful existence of the country they are considered not to be a threat.” He sighed. “By landing on Kyushu you became a threat to them. Bringing you back to my villa instead of killing you on the spot—”
“Put you in danger too.” She finished quietly.
“That doesn"t bother me. I knew the risks I was taking. It"s different for you. You"re a woman. And you had no idea of the danger you were falling into; you were so weak and ill I was surprised you survived.”
“You are a good doctor, Isamu.” She said shyly, glancing up at him through half closed lids.
He smiled; loving the sound of his name on her lips, then became serious again. “Now, here is the meat of the situation. I have just received a letter from Kimika. The merchant whose life you helped to save delivered it. She writes that Kazu has gone to the city magistrate and bribed him with information about us and our whereabouts.”
“So we have to leave?”
“Yes.” He sighed on a smile. “But it"s your life that concerns me. Your only crime was trying to escape a bad marriage arrangement. You shouldn"t have to pay for that with your life. And I will defend your right to act as a free woman, a Lady.” He smiled. “With my own life if necessary.”
“Do you think the man was attacked for the information he was carrying?” She asked.
“I don"t know.” He replied honestly. “The seal on the envelope didn"t look as if it had been broken.” He paused to consider. “He said he"d been attacked by ronin.” “What"s a ronin?"
“You mean I didn"t teach you that?” He smiled.
She shook her head.
“Well, a ronin is a samurai whose lord has died or who has otherwise been left without a master. They quite often become brigands and murderers to get money to live.
But I don"t think I"ve ever heard of any ronin attacking for information. What worries me, though is they could have been metsuke, spies for the Shogun and—” “Disguised as ronin?” She finished for him.
He nodded gravely.
He wished she would cry; anything was better than the stoic face she was putting on as she put her things into the sack, preparing to leave the following morning. He wanted to shake her, to make her cry, but he realized that it would be for his good, not hers. He must let her deal with it in her own way.
Later she did cry, and he held her. She vented her anger at her mistake, which quite possibly could cost her only friend in the country his life, and her own as well.
“I was a fool.” She mumbled into the crook of his neck. “I should have stayed. I should have let them marry me off. Or at least I should have made sure I was going somewhere that I knew. Now you"ll be killed because you helped me.” He held her away from him. “Then I wouldn"t have met you .No, koibito. We will escape. I have a plan.” He laid his chin on her head and stroked her back. A smile lingered on his lips. “We"ll leave here tomorrow at first light and go to Ogimachi andthen on to Takayama. We"ll stay there. If they catch up to us we can get to Kamikochi
before the snow blocks the roads.”
“When is that?”
“The weather starts to change by late September and the roads are totally closed by November.”
“Then why don"t we go there now? It"s almost September.”
He smiled. “We"ll be there before they find us. Don"t worry. Now, get some sleep. I don"t want to have to carry you all the way to Ogimachi.” He chuckled. Katharine was awake just before sunrise. Fujito was already up making final preparations for the journey. She heard a group of people singing she stopped to listen.
She knew it wasn"t the pearl fishers and asked Fujito about it.
“I know that song.” He said with a smile. “It"s the song of the Samurai.” He sang along with them and continued to sing after their voices had died away as they walked past their room and down the street.
“Don"t dawdle, my Lady.” He said with a grin after he"d finished. “I want to make sure you have everything packed. I don"t want to get half way to Ogimachi todiscover that you"ve left something behind. Like Kimika used to.” “Did she?”
“All the time it was infuriating. Father would sometimes take us children along on his trips. We"d get to where we were going and we"d hear a yell from Kimika"s room.
My father would hold his hands to his head and ask „what has she forgotten now?"” Katherine laughed. “She never told me.”
“I don"t think she"d remember. We were both very young.” He said almost wistfully.
It had been before his father had sent him away, Fujito remembered now. He had begun lessons in Kendo, the Japanese art of fencing and had failed miserably. His father was disgusted. He disowned his second son that night.
He had asked him what he wanted to do. Fujito knew he wanted to hear „ride a horse" or to excel in another Samurai discipline but he had answered truthfully that he wanted to be an apothecary and heal people.
His father was enraged. He knew the apothecary"s trade was a necessary one, but did not think it appropriate for a samurai, even a second son. If anything happened to the elder, the younger sons would inherit the title. And even though under the Tokugawa the country had attained a more secure peace than they had in centuries, his father believed that a Daimyo needed to be ready to defend himself and his territory at all times.
“Are you ready?” He asked, shaking himself free of the painful memories. “Yes.”
The innkeeper and his wife were sorry to see them go but quite understood that they needed to be on their way.
Ogimachi was southeast of Toyama. The mountain trails were narrow and steep in places but easy going since the trek was a downward course.
Fujito had told her they would make it in about ten hours if all went well with stops for lunch and refreshment along the way.
The trail ahead seemed never ending when suddenly, turning a bend in the track they came face to face with a charming hamlet surrounded by mountains, and, some way off, a waterfall.
The sun-lit scene cast myriad jewel-like colors into the sky.
“It looks like diamonds falling from the sky.” Katherine breathed.
“Beautiful, isn"t it?” Fujito asked. “But we can"t stay here all day. If we don"t go now we"ll never make it to Ogimachi before nightfall.” He said lightly. Smiling down at her, he enjoyed fully her enraptured face. On impulse, he dropped a feather-like kiss on her temple.
“Sorry.” She smiled up at him and they started on their way walking across the terraced rice fields dotting the tiny picturesque village at an oblique angle. There was no checkpoint here; the Shogun would be uninterested in a village of peasant farmers. Most had settled down in peaceful cohabitation with their status; the few uprisings there had been were crushed swiftly.
The inn they found was a tiny one, room enough for only six people including the innkeeper and his wife. But the young couple who owned it was friendly; in fact, the pretty wife was quite talkative and well aware about happenings in the area. “I hope it is to your liking, Sama.” She said as she placed their meal on the table, bowing low to the honorable guest.
“There"s no need to bow to me, lady.” Fujito said simply. “I am just an unassuming sensei.” He smiled.
“Oh no. I don"t mean to contradict, Sama but you have a highborn bearing and your language is that of one who has been well taught.”
“Well,” He smiled again. “Domo. I am honored by your complement, Mistress. And I am certain the food will be most pleasing to our pallets.”
“Arigato O Gozaimasu Sama.” She bowed and backed away from them toward the door. “Komban wa. Oyasumi nasai.”
“Oyasumi nasai.” He said bowing.
Katharine watched him from the table. Suddenly unfamiliar emotions flooded her being as she remembered the kiss on the shore.
She mercilessly extinguished any contemplation that she was falling for the handsome samurai who sat across from her. That was impossible. He was a friend; that was all.
The Samurai"s Lady
Chapter Six
It had been a hectic afternoon for a small town and Katharine was looking forward to a long hot bath.
Suddenly they heard a noise outside in the courtyard. They looked at each other; Katherine"s face betrayed the fear that grabbed the pit of her stomach. Fujito gripped her forearm to steady her but before he could find out who it was, they heard a knock on one of the beams.
Leaving her side Fujito crossed to the door and slid it open.
“Excuse me, Sensei.” The head of the town bowed low. “But a body has been found outside of town on the mountain road. We need you to come.” “All right.” He agreed. “It"ll take a few minutes. I"ll meet you by the town gate.” “Yoroshi.”
After the man had gone, he told Katharine. “Couldn"t I come with you?” She raised her hopeful eyes to his.
His expression softened. He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I know you"re frightened, Katsuko.” He said gently. “Remember what you said last night? That you"re not afraid of Isamu?”
She nodded.
“Well then trust him now, Koibito. I wouldn"t leave you if I thought you were in any danger. You know that, don"t you?”
“Yes.” She answered, her voice sounding more confident than she felt. “All right then. I"ll leave the arrows. Just in case.” He smiled. “I"ll be back soon. I promise.” He kissed her forehead. “Aishiteru.” He whispered, but he was gone before she could ask him what it meant.
She felt like a boat let adrift on the sea. For several weeks now he had been her constant companion, always there to comfort and cheer, to protect and—no, she wouldn"t think about it.
She bustled about the room, putting away boxes of pills and powders, tonics and teas. Although she had no idea what the characters on the boxes said she remembered where she had taken them from so was able to return them to their proper places.
That was soon done and she stood in the middle of the floor wondering what to do next.
The sun charted its course across the sky. It was beginning to sink behind the distant mountains, leaving a red ribbon trail in its wake.
Where was he? He and the other man had been gone for hours. Maybe he"d been recognized and captured. Maybe it had been a trap.
The wind came up without warning and blew over an empty jar on the table near the open screen making her jump. No, she would not think about it. Later she found something to eat: some pickled fish and some rice cakes, but did not enjoy them.
A rustle of leaves startled her and after looking at the door hopefully lowered her head, disappointed when he did not appear.
She had a bath but it didn"t help because she kept thinking of the first time she"d gotten into the scalding hot vat. Trying the lute didn"t ease her anxiety, either. She felt the prick of tears behind her lids, but she refused to cry.
The sky darkened into twilight and with every shade of night, her fears grew larger. Now she could hear the wind whistling through the openings in the bamboo fence,making a noise like Fujito"s flute. Maybe it was he playing to announce his arrival. But it was not.
She heard a loud crash outside. Fear gripped her heart but she forced herself to peer out into the night. Maybe he"d been ambushed and now they were coming back for her. No. She would think only positive thoughts. She sighed with relief even as she felt a keen disappointment. One of the bonsai containers Fujito had been working on fell off the table outside clattering to the stone path. Finally she decided he wasn"t coming back, that he"d left her to the hands of the government; he didn"t really want to help her at all. Typical, she thought, as she prepared for bed. When their life is really on the line, they sneak away. She pulled back the quilt and slid under it. Sleep was hard in coming and when she finally attained it, it was with sorrow and fear, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Fujito let himself in quietly and locked the outer bamboo doors. Where was she? To retire without making sure the entry was secure was foolish. As necessary as his presence on the mountain had been, had it also been a ruse for them to take her? He peered into her bedroom and sighed with relief. He opened the door slowly, trying not to wake her but she was not quite asleep and rolled over. She rubbed her eyes as she tried to huddle in the corner.
He smiled. “Katharine it"s all right.” He whispered.
“Isamu?” She scrambled up and he was there, holding her.
“Forgive me?” He asked pressing kisses to her forehead, her temple, and her cheek. “Forgive me for leaving you so long?”
“I thought they"d discovered you, I was waiting for them to come back for me, too.” She gasped between kisses. “I thought you weren"t coming back. The thought of you lying there— I thought you were—”It was too horrid to contemplate. “No, koibito. Touch me. I"m very much alive.” He stepped away from her. She felt his arms, his chest where his heart was beating, his cheek.
He took her hand gently and held it to his lips. “You see?” He mumbled against her fingers. “You"re not dreaming. It is me.” He took her in his arms again and held her for a very long time.
In the morning, he told her what had happened.
“We had to go half way up the mountain.” He began. “The body was wedged between two rocks. It was evident that he hadn"t died there but someone had forced thebody in after they"d killed him.”
“Is that what took you so long, getting him out?”
He smiled. “No.” He took a sip of his tea and continued. “We did have a little trouble, but once we got him on the stretcher and started down the mountain the windcame up.”
“It did here too.”
“Hmmm. There must be a storm out to sea somewhere. The mountains get the tail end of them as wind.”
“Go on with your story.” She invited, pouring more tea for them both. “Thank you.” He smiled, accepting the cup from her. “Well,” he took a sip and swallowed. “Coming down a mountain would be hard at anytime. But when you have to
travel single file holding a body on a stretcher and walking into a gusty wind it makes itdoubly hard.”
“And that"s what took so long?”
“Yes. That and the autopsy.” He took a sip of tea.
“What did he die from?”
He studied her for a moment before he answered. This was a remarkable woman, interested in medical things where others wouldn"t want to hear. And skilled in them too.
“Asphyxiation.” He paused a moment before adding, “f
rom crucifixion.” Katharine"s face blanched, but she recovered quickly. “Why?”
“There are Christians, Jesuits, in the Japans koibito.” He smiled. “Once they were welcomed as the Shogun, Hideyoshi accepted Christianity. But when Hideyoshi died and his position was taken by force by Tokugawa Ieyasu they began to be hated, now they are being rooted out and forced to renounce their faith and return to Buddhism. They are forced to step on a picture of Christ and give up all paraphernalia of the Westernreligion.”
“And those who don"t?” She asked quietly.
“Those who don"t, end up like the body on my table.”
“You have to send in a report, don"t you?”
“Yes.” He was about to ask why when he saw the fear in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking, to sign a report, even to the town magistrate might mean their discovery.
“They have no idea who we are. If there have been any further developments in Kanazawa they obviously haven"t gotten very far. And we"ve heard nothing since our arrival. Even if I sign the report with my own seal, it will take a while before they hearthe whole story. We"ve a friend in the Daimyo. We can be far away from here before themetsuke know for certain we were here.”
Once again, the wind blew all that night, whistling through the holes in the fence, and rattling the outer doors. It woke Fujito and he walked quietly into her room to see if the noise had disturbed her.
She was sleeping soundly, the events of the day before having tired her nerves as well as her body. He knelt down beside her futon and watched her sleep as he had done for many nights while she lay recuperating from her injuries. Once again, he thought how beautiful she was. After a while he settled himself on the floor beside her pallet and slept.
A loud hammering against the outer door wakened them.
“Go back to sleep. The wind probably blew something loose.” Fujito whispered. He touched her shoulder comfortingly.
As he went to open the door he prayed: for their safety, and, if this was the end, for strength and courage in torture and death.
When he saw whom it was his face softened and he grinned. Inwardly he thanked the Lord. It was the merchant from Kanazawa.