One Life Well and Truly Promised

by Richard D. Parker

  “Are they still out there?”

  Katashi shrugged. “If they are, they’re being very quiet.”

  Chisuzu’s eyes widened. “What should we do?”

  “Wait,” Katashi replied confidently. “They can’t search forever. If there’s no sign of them by midday, I’ll sneak up and look about.”

  Chisuzu shook her head, real fear showing on her face. “No, we cannot stay here,” she blurted a bit too loudly and then covered her mouth.

  Katashi frowned. “It’s too dangerous to leave,” he explained, now very confused, and wondered if she was afraid of being cooped up. She showed no signs of being uncomfortable within the small space of the cave last night, though he’d heard some people were afraid of such things.

  “We have to…we have to go soon,” Chisuzu added, and then straightened her back. “We’ll go soon if we don’t hear anything from above,” she added sternly in what she believed to be her most commanding, imperial voice.

  Katashi’s frown deepened, but he nodded. He would not dare disobey a direct order from his daimyo’s daughter. “It’ll be dangerous. They’ll kill me if they catch us…and maybe you as well.” He added, but then grew curious, which his mother always insisted was his downfall.

  “Why? Why risk it?” He asked, and even in the semi-darkness of the cave he could see the girl’s cheeks redden.

  “I need some privacy,” Chisuzu finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Now it was Katashi’s turn to flush as his imagination took over, but he quickly recovered.

  “Wait here,” he told her and quickly moved to the mouth of the cave. He knelt and slowly stuck his head out the opening. He made sure to keep well inside the cover of the bush that protected the entrance and gazed up the steep incline and then through the gap between the boulders. The sky was a beautiful deep blue, made even more inviting by the fact that it was clear of enemy soldiers.

  Katashi ducked his head back inside and turned to Chisuzu. “You can go behind the bush,” he whispered without making eye contact. “The way is clear, but hurry and be as quiet as you can.”

  Chisuzu gulped, thoroughly embarrassed and hesitated until Katashi moved past her and began to fumble with the clay pots, obviously making a show of searching for something. She watched his back for a moment before her need suddenly grew to almost desperation. Without another thought she ducked and crawled through the opening. She paused for just a moment, hidden underneath the ledge and glanced up the steep rocky incline. Thankfully, the opening above remained empty, so she scurried out and stood up. She made her way through thick, soft sand and wedged herself up between the far rock wall and the bush. She looked once at the cave opening before hiking up her clothes and going about her morning business, suppressing a sigh as she finally felt relief from the constant pressure exerted by her bladder.

  Katashi remained near the back of the cave, far too honorable to do anything else, but even so, sound traveled well in the enclosed area of the rocks and he could hear her clearly. He listened with great interest, until it dawned on him that his own bladder was also very full. By the time she returned all he could think of was his own need, and before she was fully in the cave he crawled past her and out into the opening. For some reason having him share such an embarrassing human predicament helped Chisuzu relax, and when he finally crawled back into the safety of the cave he found her grinning broadly at him.

  “So now we wait,” she whispered and he smiled back and nodded.

  They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, Katashi looking at everything but Chisuzu, until she finally sighed loudly.

  “All right, tell me about yourself. What do you do when you’re not roaming the forest saving noble ladies in distress?”

  Katashi chuckled and then slapped his hand over his mouth. Chisuzu grinned.

  “I guess I’m a fisherman,” he finally answered. “Chichi…my father is a fisherman. Nearly every person I know is a fisherman. Atami is full of fishermen…and their wives and children.”

  “So what were you doing so far from the sea?” She asked with a smile. “Not much chance of catching fish among the trees.”

  Katashi frowned and hesitated slightly before answering. Many years ago, in his grandfather’s, grandfather’s time, the Emperor had declared eating meat illegal, but the practice had not entirely died out, especially among the peasants of the land. “My father lets me hunt fowl and Sika deer,” he finally admitted, feeling strongly that he could trust this young woman. “I’m good at it and the meat helps bring the family extra money,” he continued and then blushed at her expression of disgust. “My family only occasionally eats pheasant,” he blurted quickly.

  Chisuzu nodded, though she could hardly understand how anyone could eat the flesh of birds or animals...it made her sick just thinking about it. Still, she found Katashi fascinating for some reason. “Tell me about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  Katashi smiled. “Two sisters...Sakura is a year younger and helps with the nets and the fishing. Kaiya-chan is only six, but rules the house…she is a gift from the gods,” he added and even in the dim light of the cave Chisuzu could see the gleam of love in his eyes. It made the young man very attractive to her.

  At Chisuzu’s urging Katashi spent a good portion of the morning talking of his family, his friends and his village. It was immediately obvious to her that his family meant everything to Katashi, as it should, and that he honored his mother and father as was the duty of every young man. But beyond duty there was obvious love and devotion.

  For Chisuzu there was certainly duty to family. Her father was Hōjō Tokimasa and she was fiercely proud of him, though she rarely saw him, especially now in these unsettled times. Much the same could be said of her two older brothers. They were always running off on important errands for father, and had little time for their sister, who they still considered a child.

  Her mother, Hōjō no Maki, was regal and incredibly beautiful. She taught Chisuzu the finer points of being a true Japanese lady and occasionally sat with her late at night and regaled her with stories of their ancestors. Her mother truly doted on her, Chisuzu could tell she did, but the affairs of the household often kept her away as well. Chisuzu was left with Yoshiko, her Uba, and though the old woman was stern and unforgiving, it was clear that she loved her milk-daughter more than anything…and Chisuzu returned her love. She never realized just how much Yoshiko meant to her until she was gone.

  Katashi, who was in the middle of one of his favorite stories about some mischief he’d committed in his youth, failed to notice the tears flowing from Chisuzu’s eyes until she sniffled and dropped her chin to her chest. He immediately stopped talking, confused at first, for the story he was telling was very amusing and not the least bit sad, but after a moment it was clear that Chisuzu was truly suffering.

  “What is it Chisuzu-sama?” He asked and laid a hand on her shoulder. Chisuzu tried to ignore the familiarity of his touch, if her brothers were around she knew Katashi would likely lose his hand, if not his head, for such an affront. But her brothers were not here, and at the moment Chisuzu cared little about convention.

  “My…my Uba…” she stammered and tried to smile, but the loss of Yoshiko was suddenly overwhelming. Finally she surrendered herself to her grief and cried. Katashi sat silently before her, unable to think of what to do, and then suddenly Chisuzu was in his arms, gripping him tightly and sobbing against his chest.

  It took a long time for her to finally settle down and gain a modicum of control over the emotions.

  “I am so sorry,” she explained once the tears had finally subsided. She was more keenly embarrassed by her display of grief than she had been while relieving herself.

  “I’m honored to be of help,” Katashi replied as Chisuzu pulled away. They both felt the loss of contact acutely, each ignoring it in their own way.

  “Some samurai I am,” Chisuzu added disparagingly, but Katashi just scoffed.

>   “Even samurai lose loved ones,” he told her and then glanced at the cave opening. “It should be nearing noon. Our friends must have given up their search by now.” He quickly stood and moved to the cave opening. He paused before venturing out and was surprised to find Chisuzu was right on his heels. She grinned at him.

  “I know this place is special to you, but I’m quite anxious to leave,” she admitted. Katashi was not offended. “I agree. Waiting to be found and killed made it a little less appealing,” he replied and then carefully stuck his head out and glanced up toward the top of the boulders. He half expected to see a dozen or so enemy soldiers peering down at them, but thankfully the opening above was still clear.

  “Come on,” he told her, and without thinking reached out and took her hand. Chisuzu did not argue or pull away and allowed herself to be led out of the cave opening. He had to release her hand almost immediately as they dropped to their knees and crawled beneath the overhang. Once clear, Katashi carefully checked the opening above again, and then climbed back to his feet. Keeping a close eye on the opening, he turned and helped Chisuzu up from her knees.

  “Stay here while I climb up and check,” he told her, and though she wanted to argue, Chisuzu only nodded.

  Faster than she would have thought possible, Katashi scrambled on all fours up the steep incline. He paused for just a moment at the very top and glanced back down at Chisuzu. She half waved in encouragement. Katashi smiled reassuringly and then disappeared over the edge.

  To Chisuzu, he was gone a very long time. She held her breath, straining her ears for shouts of discovery, the clash of arms, or the dying screams of her new friend. She heard nothing, and within a few minutes Katashi’s grinning face appeared overhead and he motioned her to come up.

  “It’s clear,” he whispered down to her and she was surprised by how well she could hear him. “They’ve gone.”

  That was more than enough encouragement for Chisuzu and she climbed barefooted up the incline. The path was steep enough that she had to bend forward and crawl up on her hands and feet, but she quickly made it to the top. She was astonished how much easier climbing up was over sliding down.

  Katashi reached out and took her hand when she neared the top and helped her up over the edge.

  Chisuzu quickly stood and gazed down at the surrounding forest, blinking rapidly in the bright afternoon sun. The area around the boulders appeared empty and as she spun around on the top there was no sign of the enemy.

  “Come on,” Katashi said, nervous about being so exposed on the top of the rock formation. He led her down, occasionally helping her cross the more dangerous areas and both of them sighed with relief when they finally hit the ground without being discovered.

  “Here,” he said and handed over her tabi and zori. “We’ll keep to the game trails,” Katashi explained as she slipped on her footwear. He knew the forest very well and was sure he could get them all the way back to Atami without being detected. Chisuzu went along willingly. She had little choice. She had only a vague idea where she was, but even if she managed to find her way back to the main road there was nothing there for her. She was many, many ri from Kamakura and home. So she followed as Katashi took her deeper into the forest, leading her along narrow trails that at times ceased to exist at all.

  After they were far from any roads, and surrounded by dense forest, Katashi began to ask questions about royal life. Chisuzu answered as best she could and tried not to sound too condescending, but when she described her father’s castle, her room and the exquisite gardens that surrounded it, she supposed it couldn’t be helped. She was positive there was little to compare with her home in Atami.

  They walked on and on, Katashi leading her first to the south and then to the east. It didn’t take long before she was hopelessly turned about. Even so, Chisuzu didn’t worry. She trusted the young man and was remarkably at ease in his company, considering that they hardly knew each other. However, when she thought about it, her instinct told her that was far from true. Everything about Katashi seemed familiar and safe, and she could tell by his lack of decorum he felt the same. By their manner, anyone watching would never guess that she was samurai and he was not. Alone together they were as equals and Chisuzu fretted that Katashi’s attitude toward her would change once they were in the company of others. She hoped not…but she knew it couldn’t go on so comfortably forever…not if he wanted to live.

  The afternoon grew hot and the air grew still in the midst of the trees. As Chisuzu walked and talked she was constantly waving and batting at the hordes of biting insects. Normally she did not handle such discomfort well, but she was enjoying Katashi’s company so much she hardly registered the flying pests. She was so captivated by him that she was even surprised when he came to a sudden stop.

  “We’re here,” he told her with a broad smile of relief. The village below was intact and not the burning wreck he’d envisioned countless times in the last few hours. Chisuzu smiled back, curious. Her father and mother both loved this place and visited at least once every year, but up to now Chisuzu had always been denied. She inched forward to get a better look. They were on top of a high bluff, with a commanding view of the village in the foreground and then the endless ocean beyond. She pushed past Katashi and gazed down at Atami and frowned. It was far from inspiring and seemed an entirely ordinary village. True, there was a certain beauty to the surroundings, nestled as it was against a ring of steep, volcanic bluffs, but from her vantage point the buildings seemed small, fragile and wholly unimpressive. Every roof in sight was steeply pitched and covered in silver thatch. Aside from the green of the mountains and the deep blue of the Sagami Bay beyond, there was little color, and what gardens she could see were small and drab.

  “There!” Katashi announced excitedly. “I live there!” He added and pointed toward the southern end of the village. The thatched homes appeared small, but well maintained. There were a few people moving about, but from this distance their features were indistinct. In the bay beyond, a host of tub boats floated serenely up and down the coast, the fishermen aboard casting nets into the water. A few of the boats had sails, but most did not.

  Chisuzu started down the narrow path which led to the village below, but Katashi reached out and placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.

  “Wait,” he explained softly. “I want to check for soldiers.”

  Chisuzu nodded impatiently. She was hot, sweaty and dirty. All she wanted at the moment was to wash off and put on some clean clothes. Nevertheless, she stopped as Katashi studied the area below.

  While she waited Chisuzu watched the tiny people that fished and gathered seaweed near the shore. She tried to count them and was well over fifty when Katashi suddenly stood. Chisuzu felt a wave of hope, which was dashed when she caught sight of the young man’s expression.

  “Soldiers?” She asked with a sense of dread, but Katashi only shook his head.

  “No…but they wouldn’t be at this end of the village,” he answered. “I was foolish to come this way. We should have circled to the north, that’s where the onsen hot springs are, as well as the pleasure houses,” he added. “If the soldiers are in Atami, that’s where they’ll be.”

  Chisuzu’s heart fell, but she suddenly brightened. “Well then they won’t see us if we sneak into the village from this end,” she suggested hopefully.

  Katashi glanced down at the girl and gave a wry smile. “Yes, I’m tired as well,” he admitted, and it was true. He was sure his smell was giving offense to the Lady Chisuzu, even though she was obviously hot and tired as well. Sweat beaded on her forehead, soaking a few jet black strands of her hair, but even so he still caught the subtle fragrance of flowers coming off her hot skin. Her position undoubtedly allowed her to use the finest oils and soaps for cleaning. Once again he was surprised by how comfortable he felt in her presence despite the fact that his rank was completely beneath her.

  “We’ll have to be quick,” he finally told her and her face lit up, astoni
shing him with its beauty. He flushed as his heartbeat suddenly increased, but she took no notice and nonchalantly reached out and took his hand. They started slowly down the narrow game trail, but it wasn’t long before the steep trail forced them to pull apart. They weaved through several switch backs as they descended the steep hillsides before they finally reached the village below. Once at the bottom Katashi led her cautiously to the east. They moved along a wide, well-beaten path, moving ever closer to the ocean. Both were now nervous about meeting someone, but good fortune stayed with them as Katashi turned left off the main trail and came to a stop just inside the tree line.

  “It’s my home,” Katashi whispered and Chisuzu studied the neat garden and then the home beyond. It was a standard peasant house, with a steep thatched roof that curved out near the bottom to cover a wide porch made of bamboo. Currently, a good portion of the back wall was slid open revealing a large room inside, but at the moment no one was visible. The way was clear.

  “Come on,” Katashi exclaimed happily and snatched up Chisuzu’s hand and pulled her out into the open. They slipped quickly through an immaculate rock garden, complete with a small pond fed by a narrow running stream. They thumped noisily over a bright red wooden bridge before making their way up onto the porch. They stopped at the open door, at the very back of the house and removed their dirty sandals from their feet before moving inside.

  “Okāsan! Okāsan!” Katashi shouted excitedly as he led Chisuzu farther inside. The house was larger than it looked, though several shōji were pulled open wide to give the illusion of one large room. A shōji was a barrier wall made of translucent paper pulled over a wooden lattice work. The walls could either be closed in order to create separate private rooms, or pulled open to allow the interior of the house to be airy and roomy.

  “Okāsan!” Katashi repeated as he moved into the kitchen area of the home, but it quickly became clear that the house was empty at the moment.