The Samurai's Lady

by Gaynor Baker

  There was no one about. The roadway at the back was deserted, as was the surrounding country. Then suddenly she saw him. He was being led away between two guards.

  In one breath, she prayed he would look her way, and that he wouldn"t. It would be too painful.

  She watched nonetheless. Then just as he passed within feet of where she stood he turned his head. Their eyes met. Her heart leaped to her throat.

  “Aishiteru. I love you.” He mouthed. He did not wish to arouse the guard"s suspicions. If he looked, he would see only the ravings of a man made mad by torture.

  Katharine was hidden behind a pile of bales so no one could see her. She walked slowly back to the village, aware that that could be the last she would see of her gentle samurai.

  When the woman"s son returned the funeral for his mother was held. Afterward, the neighbor women came to console and leave him food. Katharine too expressed her regrets.

  “You, what right do you have to say anything. You caused her death.” She was taken aback by his words. “Wakarimasen. I don"t understand.” “She fell and hurt herself. You should have caught her.”

  “Sumimasen. I believe it was her heart. I found her asleep.”

  The man opened his mouth to say something but Katharine had left the room before he uttered a sound.

  Two days later he came to see her.

  “I think we can forget this whole business, if you would do something for me.” “What?”

  The look in his eyes told it all.

  “No, I"m afraid I cannot.”

  “Oh come on. I know you have no protector. You"ll enjoy it, you"ll see.” Katharine remembered suddenly the day she"d landed on the beach and was rescued by Fujito. Oh, what she wouldn"t give—she pushed the thought resolutely from her mind and prayed for guidance instead.

  The man lunged for her but she sidestepped his grasp.

  His eyes darkened with anger and he picked up the whiskbroom. Holding it at the base of the twigs, he made to strike her with it.

  The blow struck her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. He came closer but instead of forcing himself upon her, he struck her repeatedly.

  The sun had risen and set twice before she was able to open her eyes. She was surprised not to be looking at the gates of heaven but at the familiar surroundings of the hut. She crawled slowly over to the shelf, the only thing sturdy enough to hold her weight and pulled herself painfully to her feet.

  Every muscle in her body cried out in pain. Then she saw the note folded on the futon. Unfolding it, she was glad that Fujito had taught her some written language after leaving Kamikochi.

  It was from Koniko. With a sad heart, she read that Hisako"s son had attacked the girl. She was going to the temple for refuge.

  Katharine knew she must get away, too, before he came for her again. She must get to Atami and fulfill the vow that Fujito might never know she made to him.

  Fujito was woken up by a rough tug on his arm.

  “Come on, get up.”

  Once again, he was pushed up the ladder. He did not wince when his aching muscles were forced into action, or when he was bumped against the wall and felt the

  jagged edge of a stone cut deep into his flesh.

  Once again, as he had been almost every day for the past two weeks, he was asked the same questions.

  The magistrate was getting impatient. He wanted this matter cleared up before he went on monthly leave.

  “I have been very lenient with you.” He told Fujito. Then to the guard he said, “Torture him.” Fujito could see in his eyes that this would be to the death. He was led

  roughly toward the door and pushed through it.

  As he was prodded along, he remembered the lament of Jeremiah: O Lord you took up my case.

  “I believe you have taken up my case also, Lord. Even though it seems nothing is happening, I still believe you are in control.”

  You redeemed my life.

  “Redeem my life, Lord. Whether in heaven or here on earth, my life is in your hands.”

  You have seen, O Lord, the wrong done to me. You have seen the depth of their vengeance, all their plots against me.

  “For reasons I do not know they plot to take my life, Lord. But vengeance still belongs to you, O Lord. Avenge my death. I have no family, my mother and father are

  gone, but you will take me up.” Then he prayed for Katharine for God"s guidance in her

  life; for her safety; and that they would meet again in the hereafter. Gently the voice came to him, more like a stirring within his heart: Do not be afraid of what they say, or terrified by them.

  When they reached the place of torture he was stripped to his waist and pushed face down into the dirt. Blood from many tortured men before him assailed his nostrils causing his stomach to churn.

  He tensed expecting at any moment feel the sword lacerate his back from shoulder to waist. He had seen the results of torture many times; the damage that boiling oil on a fresh wound could inflict.

  Steeling himself, he thought of Katharine. Any physical pain they might inflict would not be as hard to bear as the guilt he felt at letting her down. When he felt the cold metal of the blade against his skin, he prayed. “Just as your Son Lord, I too commit my spirit into your hands.”

  “Stop!”

  The order came from his left. Fujito turned his head to see who it was. The official was running across the field.

  “Wait! He is not the one!” He stopped beside the guard whose sword was poised over Fujito"s back

  “Not the one?” The guard frowned. “What do you mean?” He looked at Fujito whom the official was helping to his feet.

  “We have the wrong man.” He handed him a communiqué. “The killer was arrested in Yokohama.” He voiced the words the guard was reading. “He has been identified and the weapon was in his possession. He has confessed." He added with asatisfied smile. “He is on his way here, now.”

  “Then who?” He nodded toward Fujito who was tying the belt around his waist. “He was telling the truth all along. We went through his things. We found his two swords.”

  “A samurai? Then what is he dressed like a—?”

  “Quiet you fool. He is not just a samurai, but a Shimazu. Do you want to get us both killed for your insolent questions?” The magistrate hissed looking worriedly at the former prisoner.

  “I won"t kill you.” Fujito assured them calmly. They were awed at his quiet confidence after all he"d been through. He had every right to run them through, if he chose.

  The two men bowed low before him. “Gomen nasai, we are sorry, Sama.” The magistrate mumbled into his kimono. “Come back to my humble dwelling, Sama? Dozo?”

  Fujito bowed his head in ascent and followed him back to a place near the road. There in the magistrate"s home a bath was prepared for him and the man"s personal servant stood ready to bandage his wounds, trim his hair and lay out a fresh kimono.

  Afterward sake and a light meal were served in the reception hall.

  While the servant took away the sake cups and bottle the magistrate said, “I don"t know if you could find it in your heart to do so, Sama. But if you could ever forgive us for the terrible mistake we"ve made?”

  Fujito didn"t know if the man was asking for real forgiveness, or merely the formality to avoid a bad karma in his next life. But that was between the man and whatever god he believed in. For him, not offering forgiveness would mean disobedience.

  With the love of God, anything was possible, even forgiveness in the face of suffering. “I forgive you.” He said sincerely.

  “Thank you.” The official noticed something different in the samurai"s mercy. It was not superficial; it came from the man"s heart. He meant the words he was speaking.

  For the first time since he was a boy the man felt like crying. He cleared his throat to banish the feeling of weakness as the servant returned with the meal. When they"d finished the magistrate took Fujito to where they had kept his pack. Everything was as it should be.

/>   “Thank you.” Fujito smiled at the man.

  “Where do you go, Sama?” He asked handing him his two swords. “I need to go to Atami.” He told him tying the gold cord around his waist. “Please, Sama. Let me offer a horse to speed your journey?”

  “Thank you.” He smiled again

  The official clapped his hands and the servant appeared. When he told him what he wanted the man left to do his bidding and returned with a fine black stallion. They watched Fujito mount up, turn the horse and ride like the wind for Atami. The Samurai"s Lady

  Chapter Eleven

  He rode as if the very Devil were after him. For once, he didn"t mind the wind in his hair. Instead, it invigorated him, urging him on.

  Past startled peasants who moved aside quickly for fear of being run through for not being fast enough. Past rice field, through forest. Isolated villas with manicured gardens sped by in a blur and huts with straw thatched roofs could barely be seen throughthe dust kicked up by the horse"s hooves.

  The pain in his shoulders and back from the beatings and hours of sitting bolt upright was nothing compared to the ache in his heart when he thought of losing her forever.

  He did not slow the horse until he could see the rooftops of Atami silhouetted against the distant water.

  The first night away from the village Katharine slept in an open field. She might have asked for shelter in the village huts, but trusted no one; except her samurai. She kept Fujito"s map next to her heart. It was the last connection she had to him. Although winter"s blast had long since left the plains, the night could still be chilly. She shivered under the thin blanket she had been able to carry away with her. She felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder, saw his smile. He knelt beside her and settled himself under the futon. Enfolding her in his arms, he drew her toward him. His mouth settled on hers…

  She felt the touch of his lips and opened her eyes. The space beside her was empty; it was just another dream.

  It was the middle of the following night when she finally reached Atami. Lights from the night fishing boats winked in the distance, as did the lanterns from the few spas that were still open.

  Turning to her left, she found herself in a grove of trees. A stone bench was set near the edge of the water.

  Not realizing she had found her way into a private garden she laid out the thin blanket on the bench settled on it and, resting her head on her arm went to sleep. In the distance, Fujito could see the lights from the early morning fishing boats. To his left, the sky was lit with the first pale light of dawn. Ahead was the home of the local magistrate.

  It was unlikely any official word from Edo had found its way here; Atami was a spa town, which made its money from the waters of thehot springs. They weren"t interested in ferrying people out and would not be on the lookout for two fugitives of the State. Not knowing how long Katharine had been here or even if she was here, he decided the magistrate was the person to start with.

  He slowed the horse to a canter and entered the town, tethering the stallion he prayed that she would be there.

  He found the gate to the garden entry of the house open and walked through. The house was still dark, the only light came from the stone lanterns that guarded the entry and lit the cobbled path leading to the house.

  Just as he entered the grove of trees, the sun bathed the ground in the first light of dawn, illuminating it and turning the dark earth to a golden green-brown. He thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head in that direction. Just as he was thinking he"d been mistaken it moved again. Coming closer, he saw it was Katharine. Her hair glowed red-brown in the sunlight. One lock had fallen over her eye.

  He smiled. And fell in love with her all over again.

  The villa at Kagoshima glowed yellow in the early morning sunlight. She and Fujito were sitting on the veranda. He was reading but she couldn"t understand the words; the sounds were garbled. He put down the book and smiled

  at her. Walking over to where she sat he took her hand and raised her up. They

  walked inside. Then she was in his arms, he held her tight. She saw the smoldering

  in his eyes. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers…

  She felt something brush her cheek and pushed it away with her hand, not wishing to leave the dream just yet.

  “Katsuko?” He whispered tenderly

  The voice came from so far away she thought it was part of the dream. But all that was before her eyes was the light of dawn outside her closed lids.

  “Wake up, Nikko.” He said huskily.

  The voice was closer now, it sounded so real she felt she could reach out and touch it. Nikko, Fujito had called her that; someone was playing a cruel joke, tormenting her broken heart. But who would have known about the nickname? It must be part of the dream.

  Still not quite awake she stretched out her arm. Her fingers touched the silk of a kimono sleeve. The realization that someone was there brought her to full consciousness.

  The landowner! She had over slept. She had meant to leave before anyone found her!

  She sat up. He was standing in front of the sun, keeping his face in shadow. Head bowed in shame of being caught, her words came out in a tumble. “I"m sorry, Sama. Ididn"t harm anything I was so tired, and the bench was—” “Katharine.” Was all he said.

  She couldn"t believe what she was seeing. It must be an apparition. But the musky sandalwood scent was what she remembered. It could only be one man— “Isamu!”

  Hooking a finger under her chin, he raised her head so that she was looking at him.

  Then he was beside her reigning kisses on her temple, cheek, and finally, her lips. “Oh koibito, I thought you were lost to me forever.” He whispered into her hair. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you being led away that day— “That wasyou?” He kissed her cheek.

  “Yes. Didn"t you know?”

  “Not for certain I couldn"t see very well.” He didn"t go into detail. “Could you understand what I was saying?”

  “Yes. Oh, Isamu!” Words failed her then as she thought again of the day she"d gone to the post station. They were unnecessary as she found herself held against him again, his fingers winding themselves in her hair.

  She still couldn"t believe it was he. Shyly she slipped her hand inside his kimono to feel his heart beat.

  He smiled questioningly. His heart increased its rhythm under her hand. “I want to make sure I"m not dreaming.” She whispered.

  “Take all the time you need.” He laughed.

  Her hand moved along his chest and up to the collarbone and curled around his neck. When she felt along his shoulder, she stopped. “What did they do to you?” Sheasked, tears in her voice. “Were you beaten? On account of me?” He knew he couldn"t hide he truth from her. “Yes, koibito. I was beaten, but it had nothing to do with you.” He took her hand, which had come to rest on his arm, and kissedher knuckles. “Come. The inns should be open now. We"ll have something to eat and I"ll

  tell you everything.”

  They found a teahouse beside a small inn. After they"d given their orders to the owner and she had brought tea Fujito told her everything that had happened from the timehe"d told her to run.

  When he"d told her of the treatment he"d received and how he"d thought only of her she had to grip his hand tight to keep from crying.

  “It"s all right.” He whispered smiling. “I"m here now. We can"t be separated again.”

  Except by time and the ocean was the thought that hung between them, unwilling to be voiced.

  Just then, the light from the doorway was blocked. Looking over to see why, Katharine saw a manholding the blanket she had taken from Hosako"s house on the night she left.

  The owner came up to him, talked for a few minutes and then pointed in their direction. When she saw him walking over her face blanched.

  „What is it?”

  “The man coming over. He"s got my blanket. He knows I was in his garden.” “Easy. I"ll tak
e care of it.” He stood and turned toward the man. He bowed, but before he could speak the newcomer said, “Dozo.” Allow me to introduce myself. I am Makato San, the Magistrate of Atami. I saw you in my garden this morning. I believe youleft this behind.” He turned to Katharine and held out the blanket. “Domo Arigato o gozaimasu.”

  “Do itashimashite.” He smiled.

  “The magistrate of Hakone wrote to me, telling me of your ordeal Fujito-Sama. It would please me greatly if you were to allow me to act on his behalf as he has requested and take advantage of my hospitality. Until your wounds heal completely.”

  “Domo.” Fujito bowed.

  They followed him back to his villa where a servant was waiting.

  “Is that your horse tethered to the post?” He asked indicating the black stallion. “Yes. Or at least it is now.” Fujito smiled.

  Later after he had slept, he joined Makato in his reception room for some sake. When Katharine woke up a while later, he asked permission for her to join them. It was unusual for a woman to be in the company of men, even that of her husband unless it wason special or formal occasions. The places they"d stayed at so far since leaving Kanazawahad simply assumed they were married and what they"d done, or not done, behind closed

  doors was their own business.

  “Of course.” The magistrate smiled. He himself had been upbraided by his mother for treating his wife as a companion, insisting she be informed of the town business and eat every meal with him, whether alone or in the company of his friends. He was glad to see others were not afraid to do the same.

  They were still talking about what had happened in Hakone. Sitting beside him she whispered, “Where did you get the horse? He"s beautiful!”

  The magistrate had overheard and smiled indulgently. Fujito could not hold back a chuckle.

  “When they discovered I was not the person they wanted the official took me to his home.” He began. “He gave me a bath, a meal and asked me where I was going. I told him I had to get to Atami.” He smiled at her. “And he offered me a horse to speed myjourney.”

  “I see.” She smiled up at him. “And they gave you a haircut, too.” She touched the hair at the back closest to the collar of his kimono. “They did a good job.” “She"s very observant.” The magistrate laughed.