Hayato and Katashi blanched, but to their credit their outward demeanor revealed nothing.
“You’ve been hiding the Chisuzu Nai-shinnô,” Shimamura accused and suddenly reached down and yanked Chisuzu’s wrists up roughly.
Katashi flinched slightly and would have stood, but his father discreetly signaled him to be still, which saved the young man’s life.
Shimamura twisted the girl’s arms and studied her palms. Chisuzu winched but did not protest and kept her eyes carefully downcast. Hayato remained silent. He was smart enough not to challenge a samurai. He would let the man form his own conclusions until the last possible moment. The trouble with samurai was that those last moments sometimes came so swiftly that death could take you before you had a chance to utter any protest.
“What’s your name girl?” Shimamura asked harshly.
Chisuzu remained silent for a moment too long and Shimamura squeezed her wrists tighter and tighter.
“Yosh…Yoshi,” she answered.
“Yoshi…” Shimamura continued and twisted harder.
“Mutzu Yoshiko!” Chisuzu screamed loudly as the pain in her wrists became unbearable. “Mutzu Yoshiko from Numazu,” she added quickly, only wanting the pain to go away. Shimamura however, did not relax his grip; instead he squeezed tighter as he gazed down at the girl’s hands.
Chisuzu’s hands, once soft and perfect from easy palace living, were now rough, red and sore from nearly a month of working salty nets and cutting up fish. Shimamura examined them in silence, running his fingers over the raised calluses while eyeing the girl who knelt before him. He’d never met Chisuzu Nai-shinnô, and had no idea of her appearance, but the plain looking waif at his feet could not be her. The girl’s hair had a peasant’s cut and she smelled of fish and sweat. He flung her cut and bruised hands away in disgust. He gazed angrily down at Hayato and squashed the impulse to kill the fisherman. Shimamura had not risen up the ranks of Ōba Kagechika army by acting impulsively.
“Leave us,” Shimamura ordered abruptly. Hayato and the others paused for just the slightest instant; surprised by their good fortune, then as one they quickly scrambled to their feet, bowing repeatedly as they carefully circled around the samurai.
Shimamura watched the family walk quickly away and frowned. They were a typical peasant family, completely unremarkable and completely unworthy of any special notice. Bunched together they walked quickly away, clearly relieved, heads and shoulders drawn down in fear and deference…all except the girl. Yes, her head was down but her shoulders were pulled back, straight and square. Shimamura frowned.
‘Was it possible?’ he thought aghast. The Hōjō clan was notoriously devious and it was rumored that Minamoto no Yoshitomo, an ally of Tokimasa, had actually hidden inside a hollow tree to escape capture after his defeat at Ishibashiyama.
With a frown Shimamura motioned for Hiroto, his newest lieutenant. The samurai quickly stepped forward.
“Hai!”
“Send a rider to Numazu,” Shimamura began. “Have him ask about this Mutzu Yoshiko,” he added.
Hiroto bowed low, hiding his surprise. The girl was clearly no samurai. She was a simple peasant; even he could see the calluses on her rough, fish-oiled hands. He said nothing however, even though he thought the exercise was a waste of time. He was wise enough to follow orders without question. After all, what was a smelly fisherman’s wife to him?
“Hai Shimamura-sama,” he replied with another bow and left to see the order carried out.
♀
Chisuzu struggled to walk slowly with Katashi and his family. She wanted to run, to bolt away from the danger that now surrounded them all, and once inside their home her calm melted away.
“I have to leave!” She cried and rung her hands. She paced very quickly across the wooden floor of the main room. “They’ll find me out! They’ll kill you all for deceiving them!”
Katashi went to her and without warning Chisuzu threw her arms around him and sobbed into his chest.
“I should never have come with you!” She wailed. “I’ve put everyone in danger!”
Katashi held her close as she sagged against him. He wasn’t sure what to say. She was correct. They were all in danger because of her, but it was his choice to protect her. It was his duty and his family’s. It was the duty of the entire village. It could not have been otherwise. Their fates were tied tightly together now; knots of fortune that could not be untangled at this point.
“Calm yourself child,” Hayato said softly and then reached out and gently pried his son from her grip. She instantly transferred her anguish to Hayato and clutched at him like someone drowning.
“Come let’s sit down,” he continued and led her over to the mats surrounding the chabudai.
Chisuzu went willingly and sat down cross-legged, overcome with anxiety for her newly adopted family. Hayato smiled sadly, and even though she was distraught, Chisuzu could see deep lines of worry around his eyes.
“I need to leave,” Chisuzu proclaimed abruptly. She started to rise, determined to run away from this place, but Hayato reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Leaving will only put us in greater danger. If you leave, Shimamura will know who you are and will surely kill us,” he explained slowly.
Chisuzu’s frown deepened as she considered Hayato’s point. At first she was unwilling to accept the reality of the situation, but deep inside she knew that he spoke the truth. If she left, the entire Araki family would die, including Katashi. Finally she nodded, conceding to the inevitable. Kiyomi and Sakura began serving tea, bowing and gently touching Chisuzu in a show of support. Kaiya was more subdued in her acceptance of the situation. She knew Chisuzu was profoundly sad, but couldn’t fully understand why, so she did what always seemed to help her in such situations; she knelt beside her new friend and hugged her tightly around the neck.
Through her worry, Chisuzu smiled and glanced up at Katashi, who was still standing, leaning silently against the inner wall. Chisuzu tried to be brave, but found that she could barely look anyone in the eye. Suddenly she burst into tears. Before they could comfort her, she jumped to her feet bolted out the back of the house and into the small garden.
“Ch…Yoshi,” Kaiya cried and started to go after her, but her father caught her hand and shook his head.
“Katashi,” Hayato said quietly, and without a word his son followed Chisuzu Nai-shinnô into the gardens.
He found her sitting on a stone bench staring into the small man-made pond that highlighted the family’s gardens. He followed the perfectly manicured gravel path back to her, his steps were clearly audible, but she did not turn as he stopped behind her.
“You should have left me on the road,” she said firmly, her voice very quiet.
Katashi’s heart soared. Somehow she knew he’d followed her out to the gardens rather than Sakura, or his father. “No,” he answered simply.
“I would have been captured,” she continued, “but they would not have killed me.”
“Possibly,” he replied, “but you’d now be a hostage, your life used against your father.”
“Your family would be safe,” she countered.
“True,” he agreed, “but I would have shamed my family’s name. I’d be a coward, afraid to come to the aid of our daimyo.”
“Hmmph,” she answered. “You did not know who I was.”
“No, but I knew you needed help,” he added. “If I remained in hiding I’d still be a coward…still be shamed.”
Chisuzu remained silent for a long time, considering what he said. For a samurai, it would be unthinkable not to help a fellow countryman in need. It was just a fact of life. Apparently such attitudes had filtered their way down to the peasants of the land. Nobility was awash in her father’s people and suddenly she felt a great swell of pride for Katashi, his family, and the entire village of Atami.
Without a word she gracefully stood and turned toward Katashi. He was staring at her, clearly troubled
. She knew him so well. He was utterly familiar to her, though she’d only just met him a short time ago. Chisuzu was still not entirely sure how that could be, nevertheless it was true.
She moved silently closer until she stood directly before him and gazed up into his face. Slowly, deliberately she raised her arms to his shoulders and pulled his lips down to hers. She kissed him. He stiffened for a moment, but then returned the kiss, softly at first, but then with growing hope and passion. They lost themselves rapidly in their mutual need. Soon they were groping, searching, exploring, nearly too weak to stand.
“I know you,” Chisuzu mumbled, her lips locked against his. She felt him smile as they continued to kiss.
“I know you too,” he replied and with gentle pressure tried to lead her to a small grassy area where they could finally take the weight off their weakening knees.
Chisuzu immediately resisted and broke the kiss.
“I cannot,” she whispered into his chest, before gathering her resolve and gazing up into his eyes. “It does not matter what I want,” she continued. “I am the daughter of Hōjō Tokimasa, and I am samurai. I will play my part to protect your family, and wait for my father’s return, but I will not disgrace his name.”
Katashi hung his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Despite his wish to the contrary, deep inside he knew she was doing what was right. Curiously, he was proud of her courage and her unshakeable convictions.
They were prisoners to fortune, locked on separate paths, bound by duty and honor…and both knew their paths would never intersect.
Katashi opened his eyes and stared down into Chisuzu’s lovely face. He smiled wistfully. “Very well...we will play the part and we will honor our families.”
Resigned, Chisuzu smiled back, “Hai,” she agreed sadly, “now kiss me one more time, for I love you so.”
♀
Everyone tried to act normally for the next few days, though the entire family was keenly aware that a pair of Kagechika samurai was now openly watching them. It was a troubling development, but there was little they could do about it. Since they were not being molested by the soldiers, everyone thought it best just to ignore their new shadows.
Of course they might have reacted differently if they’d known a rider had been dispatched to Numazu, which was just a long day away on horseback.
Kugyô, Kagechika’s rider, searched for two full days in and around the port city of Numazu, locating and dismissing nearly half a dozen Mutzu peasant families. Finally, the Isamu, or samurai scout, returned to Atami late in the evening on the fourth day. Despite the troubling news, he immediately reported to Hiroto, interrupting his superior’s bath in the process. A pair of yūjo pleasure women sat on either side of his commander, gently stroking his bare chest and smiling invitingly up at the Isamu. He politely ignored them.
Bowing low, Kugyô apologized for the intrusion.
“What is it?” Hiroto barked and then turned and kissed the woman to his right on the base of her neck.
“Sorry,” Kugyô began and bowed low again, “I’ve searched Numazu thoroughly. There are six families with the name Mutzu, but no one claims to know anything about a Mutzu Yoshiko,” he reported and bowed once more.
Hiroto frowned and then jumped slightly when one of the women fondled him under the water. He grinned and dropped both hands below the surface. Both women squealed and laughed. Finally Hiroto turned his attention back to the soldier.
“Arigato,” he said briskly and dismissed the man. He briefly considered leaving the bath and the women to report the news to Shimamura, but it was already late. Shimamura was undoubtedly just as busy farther up the hillside. The news could wait until morning; after all, the girl wasn’t going anywhere.
♀
“What!” Shimamura roared early the following morning. “What did you say?” He asked as his hand settled on the hilt of his deadly tachi sword.
“Kugyô has returned, there is no word of a Mutzu Yoshiko from Numazu,” Hiroto amended, staring at his commander’s knuckles as he gripped his sword. It took all of Hiroto’s willpower not to reach for his own, knowing that if he did he was in all likelihood a dead man. Shimamura was a renowned swordsman, one of Kagechika’s best.
“And when did Kugyô return?” Shimamura asked calmly, though inside he was seething. If the girl escaped…
Hiroto paused and moved his left foot back a half a step. He would fight Shimamura if he drew his sword, no matter the man’s reputation; he was samurai after all. There was a good chance he would die if it came to a fight, but it was far from a sure thing. It was not always the most skillful that prevailed in battle. Fate had a way of intervening at times.
“Last evening,” Hiroto finally answered. “The girl has not escaped. I’ve two men following her at all times. They’ve reported nothing.”
Shimamura’s anger bubbled up and his hand twitched on his sword, but the news of men watching Mutzu Yoshiko …or Chisuzu Nai-shinnô mollified him just enough. The girl was the daughter of his most powerful enemy. He was sure of it now.
“Gather your men,” Shimamura ordered, growing excited. Chisuzu would make a powerful hostage and could win Taira no Kiyomori the whole of Nippon. He considered informing General Ōba Kagechika, but then thought better of it. He would capture the girl before making any claims.
Hiroto bowed, relieved that he would not be fighting Shimamura this day.
“Quickly!” Shimamura barked and watched as Hiroto hurried off. He was gone less than a minute, before he rushed back into the room. Shimamura frowned and was nearly to the point of exploding. Didn’t this imbecile realize the importance of capturing the girl? She could single-handedly end the war.
“It’s Minamoto!” Hiroto cried and Shimamura blanched.
“Where?” He asked, moving quickly to the door.
“In the bay; three dozen ships at least,” Hiroto replied, following on the heels of his commander.
A moment later Shimamura was standing on the large wooden porch, gazing down the hillside and out over the waters of Sagami Bay. True to Hiroto’s words, there were scores of ships crowding the area near the beaches of Atami. Shimamura’s eyes widened. If this was not some sort of Minamoto ruse, they could find themselves badly outnumbered.
“Take your men!” Shimamura barked. “Get the girl and retreat up the hill. I must warn Kagechika!”
Hiroto bowed hastily and sprinted down the wooden steps, only to be stopped by Shimamura once more, who had rushed down the steps just behind his Lieutenant.
“Get the girl!” He added emphatically, as his eyes drifted to the threatening armada. “She could be our only hope of holding Izu!
Hiroto nodded and began shouting warnings to the still sleeping samurai. Before he’d made it half way down the street, dozens of soldiers were emerging from the homes they’d confiscated upon arrival. He collected six randomly and ordered them to follow him down the hillside.
As they weaved their way down the streets of Atami, Hiroto kept one cautious eye on the enemy samurai that now swarmed the beaches below the village.
“Hurry!” Hiroto yelled and was soon running for all he was worth down the steep, narrow road that connected the wealthy hillside district with the fishing village below. It was hard going, and they all had to be very careful not to get running too fast or risk a spill. Once they reached the bottom of the hill the road flattened out, making the going easier, however, without the aid of the hillside elevation, the view of the beach was lost behind the surrounding buildings. Hiroto increased his speed, a sudden sense of urgency filling his being.
Unfortunately, the Araki family lived on the very outskirts of Atami, at the very end of the road. If the girl had already left for the beaches they would be hard pressed to catch her before she was surrounded by her father’s allies. Hiroto knew it would be his life if he failed, and cursed his decision to wait the night before. If they had the girl in custody, Kagechika would be in a much stronger position.
As they sped
around the final corner; they met the pair of samurai ordered to keep an eye on the girl. Hiroto was about to question them when he spotted the family. They were drawing apart; the father was leading his son and a girl toward the beach, while the mother worked the flower gardens in front of the house with two more girls, one about the correct age. Hiroto hesitated for a moment, assessing the scene. From a distance he could not be sure which girl claimed to be Mutzu Yoshi…which girl was Chisuzu Nai-shinnô.
“After her…alive!” Hiroto ordered three of the samurai and waved in the direction of the house, while he and the others veered toward Hayato and the beach. They all drew their swords as they ran.
The entire Araki family immediately realized what the sudden appearance of running samurai meant. Chisuzu’s secret was out and there was little to do now but escape or die.
“Run to the beach,” Hayato ordered in a surprisingly calm voice. “Find a boat if you can,” he added and slowly walked toward the rapidly approaching samurai.
“Run! Hide in the forest!” Kiyomi extolled at the very same moment. She waved Sakura and Kaiya away, eyes now only for her husband. She was very afraid, but she followed her husband’s example and bravely strode forward to meet the sword bearing samurai.
“Chichi!” Katashi yelled at Hayato’s back, but his father continued on without turning around. Katashi hesitated a moment, Chisuzu waiting anxiously by his side, then he turned and obeyed his father. He snatched up Chisuzu’s hand and sprinted down the narrow path toward the beach, tears welling in his eyes as he fled.
“Okaasan!” Kaiya cried and started toward her mother. Sakura however, lifted the girl into her arms and sprinted to the corner of the house.
Kiyomi moved forward as if in a dream. Three samurai hurried quickly her way but she ignored the threat, her eyes firmly on her husband. Hayato was gazing back at her, their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity, and then suddenly Hayato flung the netting he was carrying at the nearest samurai. It tangled the leader briefly before he managed to free his arms. Kiyomi watched as the samurai pulled back his sword to strike her husband, but then a samurai bearing down on her blocked her field of vision.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 27