The Chrysanthemum Seal (The Year of the Dragon, Book 5)

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The Chrysanthemum Seal (The Year of the Dragon, Book 5) Page 10

by James Calbraith


  “It’s all right. Rest now. We will talk later.”

  “What about the other letters?” Keisuke asked his wife.

  “Later,” she replied firmly.

  “What other letters?” Nagomi rose again.

  Keisuke looked at Nagomi’s mother. She nodded. He reached for a bundle on the clothes chest.

  “You received two things while you were asleep,” he said, “one is from Kiyō, the other… Chōfu? Do we know anyone in Chōfu?”

  She grabbed the bundle from his hand impatiently. The missive from Kiyō was a small, but heavy parcel, unsigned, and with no word describing its contents. She opened it carefully and spilled it onto the bed with a jingle.

  “Ah, how beautiful!” Her mother clapped her hands.

  It was a golden necklace studded with a few small emeralds and one large jade stone embedded within. It took Nagomi a moment to recognize it, and when she did, she could do nothing to stop the tears streaming from her eyes.

  “What is it?” Keisuke asked, grumpily. Anything that reminded him of Kiyō was throwing him in a sour mood.

  “It’s Kazuko-hime’s necklace,” she replied, swallowing tears.

  Jade, the bringer of Life.

  “What about the other letter?”

  This one had no crest other than the stamps of Owari domain’s censors. Normally, it meant that the letter was from Satō, but… Chōfu?

  She tore the seal open. As she read it, her eyes grew wide open.

  “You’ll never guess — ” she said, “Sacchan is inviting me to Chōfu for…”

  A wedding?

  CHAPTER VI

  Atsuko stood in the main gate of the eerily silent compound of gardens, tea huts, and guest houses, trying to understand the situation, while servants moved around her with the luggage brought from the ship. A maidservant walked up to her with downcast eyes.

  “What’s going on here?” the princess asked, uneasily. “Where is Shosuke-sama? Where is Kuroda? Why did noone welcome me at the pier?”

  The girl dropped to her knees and bowed deeply, stifling tears.

  “They’re all gone, lady! Banished from Edo… on orders of the High Council… only us servants remain.”

  Banished?

  “We thought you knew…”

  “I was stuck in some small village for days because of that damn storm. I had no news. When did it happen?”

  “The orders came a week before your arrival. The last of the retainers left just three days ago.”

  “Which one?”

  “Kuroda-dono, lady.”

  “He can’t have gone too far. Right,” Atsuko intercepted one of the samurai of her entourage, “you, take some men and find Kuroda-sama on the western road. Bring him here — but be discreet about it.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The samurai bowed sharply and hustled off to fulfil the order.

  “And you, girl,” she turned to the maidservant, “how far is the castle from here?”

  “The castle… you mean His Excellency’s…?”

  “The Taikun’s, yes.”

  “About a ri if you go through the merchant district.”

  “A merchant district… isn’t there a shorter way?”

  “There was a shortcut through the Zōjō Temple, but I think it’s still off limits after the Black Wings.”

  “The Black Wings? What are you talking about, girl?”

  “Oh, my lady,” the maidservant clutched her face between her hands, “there is so much you don’t know about!”

  Atsuko dismissed the lectern porters once they’d passed the canal separating the residence ground from the merchant district, and insisted on walking the rest of the way to the castle on foot.

  She had to see the streets of Edo with her own eyes, trod on it with her own sandals. The greatest city on Earth, as the Taikun’s propaganda would have it, and despite what Atsuko had studied in Satsuma, it was easy to believe. Everything here was greater than anything she had known before; the streets were wider, the houses bigger, the lights brighter, the crowds denser, the people louder and more rude than in Kagoshima. The smells of a thousand street carts selling any food imaginable, the dazzling colours of a thousand shop curtains, clan flags, lanterns, wall decorations, the noise of a million throats talking at once, all hit her like a gust of an autumn typhoon.

  “Is there a festival today?” she asked the maidservant who walked by her side

  “No, lady,” she replied, “it’s always like this. It even feels a bit quieter than usual.”

  Atsuko was stung with embarrassment. She was the daughter of a mighty daimyo, and grew up in what she had once thought was a great city, the capital of a rich and populous province… and yet Edo made her feel now as if she was a mere rustic churl.

  The crowd before her parted from left to right this time, letting through a troop of fierce-looking soldiers bearing Aizu and Hojo banners fluttering on their backs. They were heading for the harbour in a great hurry.

  “Is this usual too?” asked Atsuko, frowning.

  “No, I don’t believe so…” the girl answered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen soldiers openly in the streets before.”

  Atsuko tried to ponder the consequences of what she was seeing. Dragons landing in the Zōjō Temple… a new Chief Councillor… armed soldiers on the streets of Edo… All were in some way connected, of that she was certain. But she couldn’t think clearly. The number of people on the street alone was enough to suffocate her; the din, the chaotic disarray all around her didn’t help... She shook her head, felt dizzy, and stumbled. The maid supported her arm.

  “Are you well, my lady? Perhaps we should take the palanquin after all…”

  “No, I’m fine. How far is it?”

  “Half a ri still. But the worst part is behind us.”

  As she spoke, the high street ended on a tall arc of a bridge over a canal, beyond which lay a silent, sleepy neighbourhood of sprawling rich villas hidden behind striped ochre walls.

  “What is this place?” asked Atsuko, taking in the warm, calm air. She could still hear the commotion continuing on the other side of the canal, but it was as if from behind a curtain; the cries of the crowds beyond subdued by the nostalgic shrill of cicadas — kikikikiki…

  That’s right, it’s summer already… she remembered. I almost managed to forget about it on the ship.

  “These are residences of the fudai clans. They stretch from here all the way to the castle, in order of importance.”

  “But the Shimazu residence…!”

  She clutched her fists. The Satsuma residence may have been far greater in scale than any of the villas here, but it was on the outskirts of Edo, far from the castle walls, beyond the hills, beyond the canals. Until now Atsuko thought this was the norm — that all the clans chose to live away from the downtown hubbub and noise… but now she realized the truth. Satsuma just wasn’t that important here in Edo.

  But that would change soon — she was going to make sure of it.

  Atsuko’s entourage crossed the outer moat along with other visitors going about their daily duties, passed through the enormous courtyard – an open space that alone would easily fit a small Satsuma town — and stopped before the inner gate leading into the Taikun’s castle. Cut through the mighty, angled wall built of straight-hewn stone blocks, and coated in gold leaf, it was supposed to both impress and terrify, but Atsuko was by now too dazed by the rest of the city to care either way. Upon the heavy timbers lay a long blockhouse with a large window covered by thin slats of black wood. She felt upon her the watchful eyes of the guards hidden behind the slats.

  “We’re going in,” she decided suddenly.

  “Are you sure, lady?” the servant girl worried. “We are unannounced… and alone.”

  “I want to see my future home.”

  The girl tilted her head down to hide a smile. She was one of the few in the household who yet knew about the real reason behind Atsuko’s arrival in Edo. The princess moved forward. A guard at t
he gate stepped forth to stop her.

  “I am Shimazu Atsu, Lady of Satsuma, daughter of Shimazu Nariakira,” she said forcibly, before he could ask her anything. “I come to speak with His Excellency on behalf of my father.”

  The guard reeled back, opening his mouth a few times like a fish.

  “Please wait here, lady,” he said at last, and disappeared to summon his superior.

  She managed to take a peek through the gate while he was gone. Standing in the courtyard, not far from the walls, stood a man she recognized from the drawings she had to learn by heart before leaving for Edo: Councillor Munenari, one of the few real allies her father could trust within Taikun’s inner circle.

  “Date-dono!” she cried, but he was too far away and too engrossed in conversation with another aristocrat to notice.

  The guard returned with the Captain of the gate’s garrison; a meaty-faced officer bearing the ‘ai’ character of the Aizu on his clothes, similar to all the other senior guards she had spotted around the castle.

  Looks like the Aizu-Matsudairas have taken over the city, she reflected. The Taikun chooses to surround himself only with close kin.

  She stepped towards him and again spoke first.

  “How long are you going to keep me waiting?”

  “The Shimazu are no longer welcome in the Inner Palace, Lady,” the Captain said calmly, unfazed by her brazenness. “You should know. In fact, I’m not sure you’re even supposed to be in Edo.”

  “I’ve only just arrived,” she explained. “I had little time to catch up with the news.”

  “Nonetheless, I’m afraid I will have to ask you to — ”

  A clash of swords interrupted the exchange. Atsuko turned towards the sound — two small groups of samurai were fighting around an overturned palanquin, inside of which, a small, bald courtier was huddled, terrified.

  “Mito assassins!” cried the Captain, drawing the sword. “Lady — wait here!” he ordered Atsuko, before charging into the fray followed by the rest of his men, leaving only the hapless guard with whom she had first spoken.

  The princess spotted her chance. She pushed the lone guard aside with a force and resolve which must have stunned him and ran through the gate, losing her clogs on the threshold.

  She found herself in yet another world, as separate from the villas outside as they were from the commercial district on the other side of the canal. Beyond the stone wall lay another city, tiny but densely built; a whole labyrinth of houses, towers, and corridors, roofed chambers, and open verandas, and lush gardens of blue ponds, and verdant groves.

  “Date-dono!” she shouted again, and this time the old Councillor had no choice but to notice her running barefoot across the gravel courtyard.

  He stared at her incredulously for a second, before noticing the tiny onnamon crests of the Shimazu clan on her shoulders. He glanced towards the gate, then back.

  “Come with me, quick, quick” he urged, and beckoned her towards the nearest open door.

  “You’re Nariakira’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  She bowed as deeply as she could, catching her breath as she did so. The day was proving to be much more exciting than she’d expected when disembarking from her ship in the morning.

  “Shimazu Atsuko, at your service, Councillor.”

  He winced. “I’m not a Councillor anymore. What are you doing here? The Shimazu are banished!”

  “So I heard,” she agreed.

  “You have to cancel the plan. Even I could be arrested for taking to you.”

  “I was hoping to see young Iesada-dono and explain – ”

  The nobleman raised an eyebrow. “Young tono, did you say?”

  “Yes, why? Is he not in today?”

  The Councillor drew in his breath. “So, you haven’t heard the news?” he asked.

  “Everyone keeps asking me the same question. No, I haven’t heard anything.”

  He scratched his nose.

  “Ah, that makes more sense. I think we had better go and see the new Chief Councillor,” he said.

  “I think we better should,” she agreed.

  “Out of the question,” said the Chief Councillor, not even raising his eyes from the paper he was studying, glossing with a small brush he kept dipping in red ink as he read. A straight, tall pile of similar documents rose on the left side of his low desk, and another, even greater, leaned precipitously over its right edge. “Iesada-dono will be the new Taikun. He cannot be seen socializing with the daughter of a lord who is all but accused of rebellion.”

  “New Taikun…?”

  “Tokugawa Ieyoshi-dono died a few days ago. I’m preparing the official proclamation of the mourning period right now — and I don’t with to be disturbed anymoe.”

  Atsuko’s heart sank, but her mind raced. Councillor Date was right. If she couldn’t even see young Iesada the entire plan devised by her father was doomed to failure.

  Her true, secret mission was to guile him with her womanly charms and convince him to marry her. A desperate, last ditch attempt to avoid an all-out war, it might have just about worked –rumour had it that Lord Iesada had expressed his interest in Atsuko ever since he’d seen a woodcut portrait of her while visiting the Shimazu residence — if only she could have met him, alone, on her own terms…

  Lord Ieyoshi dead… what does it mean for me…? There’s no time to write back to Satsuma — it would take weeks to get the messages there and back, even by hikyaku couriers…

  This was exactly the sort of thing for which her father had trained her. The situation in Edo could change overnight, and the distance between the capital and Satsuma made quick reactions impossible. She had to think for herself; Lord Nariakira had given her enough autonomy in all matters.

  “I did not come here for idle chatter, but to negotiate on behalf of Shimazu clan,” she said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice. “The alliance between our clans that my father and Councillor Date have worked so hard on…”

  “Ah, but Munenori-dono is not a Councillor anymore. He hasn’t been for a long time, in fact,” said the man behind the desk. She didn’t even know his name yet, but she already deeply disliked him. “And what was good for an heir, is no longer suitable for a ruling Taikun. I know why old Nariakira really sent you, but you can forget it. Iesada-dono will choose a bride from one of the inner clans. Aizu-Matsudaira, probably.”

  “My father will hear about this!”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will. But he won’t be able to do anything about it. I’m planning that the wedding will be a quick affair.”

  “Then there is nothing else for me to say.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Atsuko stood up and gave a sharp bow. The Chief Councillor at last looked up from his papers to say goodbye, and froze, his mouth agape, with the brush in his hand suspended over the table dripping the red ink like blood. He was staring at her waist — a reaction with which she was not unfamiliar, but which she expected more from young samurai sons rather than an old Edo aristocrat.

  Do I have to seduce him as well? she thought quickly, with revulsion. Is that the key to this man?

  “Councillor-dono?” she said, sweetening her voice. “See anything you like?”

  “I’m sorry,” the man replied, blinking, “I was just admiring the craftsmanship on your obi buckle, lady.”

  Obi buckle? The sudden change of topic threw her off. She looked down and remembered she was wearing the golden buckle she had received from the foreign boy. She had not given the choice much thought when she was dressing that morning, but now, somehow, it felt significant.

  “You are… interested in antiques?” she asked.

  It was an odd thing for a man to notice, but then she had been warned of Edo aristocrats and their strange ways.

  “This pattern…” He licked his lips. “I haven’t seen one like it in a long time. Where did you get it?”

  “It was a gift.”

  Where is this going?

  The C
hief Councillor pointed at her with the end of the brush. The red ink splashed on the paper, forming a line of splatters in her direction. It made her shudder.

  “Perhaps I was too hasty. After all, a war is in no one’s interest, especially with the Mito situation... Why won’t you come back here tomorrow? I’ll see what can be done.”

  She bowed deeply.

  “That is all I ask.”

  What was all that about? she wondered, as a courtier escorted her out of the inner palace, where the servant girl waited anxiously. The commotion, whatever it was, had by now calmed down. The guards at the gate had been replaced, she noticed. The new ones let her pass without a word.

  She touched the cold metal surface of the obi, remembering the night at the Kirishima Shrine — now a distant memory she rarely returned to. What did it have to do with the Chief Councillor’s sudden turn? Did it take his attention away from the office business long enough to reconsider the situation? Or was it a very clumsy attempt at courtship? Not that it mattered much, for now. One way or another, she had gained what she wanted: one precious meeting with lord Iesada. She still had allies in Edo, friends at the Council; she could still work the situation to Satsuma’s advantage. She would bring Kuroda and the others back to the residence. She would work on this as hard as was expected of her, and harder. The wedding was not off yet.

  She ran through the list of names in her head.

  “I need to speak to… Toyo-dono of Tosa,” she told Lord Date, who was waiting outside to hear of the results of the meeting. “Does he still reside in the palace?”

  “No, lady,” he replied, “not since his retirement. But I can take you to his residence. It’s not far, in the fourth citadel.”

  A shrill shriek of a black kite tore the sky, bouncing a dozen times off the steep, wooded walls of the canyon, creased and wrinkled like the hide of some giant, old animal, before echoing one last time down the single road of the quiet mountain village.

  The tall, strapping man who emerged from behind the dark blue noren curtain of the bath house struck an imposing presence. He was naked except for a great sword, the biggest Koyata had ever seen, slung on a harness across his back. Steaming water trickled down rippling biceps and the face of a fierce tiger tattooed across his chest which made it seem as if the beast was crying.

 

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