Gloria Oliver (31 page)

He sighed once she’d gone. He couldn’t help but wonder how these developments would affect his mission. He ate his lunch with less enthusiasm than he would have before.

Toshi saw no one all afternoon except for Yuko—and she never tarried long. From utter boredom, he got up and paced through his exercises. He did so empty-handed, only too aware of what might happen if he dared bare a weapon within the lord’s castle.

As the room darkened toward evening, he glanced at the door as it smoothly slid open. Yuko bowed toward him, holding a lit paper lantern in one hand.

“Kazete-sama? Kirin-san wanted me to inform you he was regrettably unable to schedule your appointment today, but he will try again tomorrow. Until then, he asked for your indulgence and begged that you accept our hospitality and spend the night. A room has already been prepared for you.”

Trying hard not to let his disappointment show, he rose to his feet. He should have known it wouldn’t happen soon. From what little he had heard today, it sounded like it might take him a while before he could gain an appointment. If Asano was no longer interested in the affairs of the castle, he might even try to delegate Toshi’s appointment to someone else.

Yet, Asaka’s instructions had been most specific. If he ended up having to talk to Tsuyu, how could he insist on delivering the kettle to Asano personally without insulting the man? Surely, Asano had given Tsuyu power because he trusted him. Did Asano not have children? It did seem a little strange to give the running of the place to someone not of the same clan.

Toshi followed Yuko out of the room and down the stairs to the first level. A large number of candles and lanterns lighted the way, but he noticed once they’d walked down a large hallway the number of lights decreased. He thought it very strange.

“This wing of the castle is filled with rooms to house Lord Asano’s guests. There are three guests here at this end to work on some of Tsuyu-sama’s business. Your room is farther on.”

For reasons he couldn’t name, Toshi felt a shiver course down his spine at her words. Other than the light coming from Yuko’s lantern, this end of the castle was dark. Yuko gave no indication this was in the least bit unusual as she led him down the hall. She opened the partition into a brightly lit chamber.

Looking inside, he noticed six lanterns strategically placed around the room. A neat stack of bedding lay waiting in the center. Beside it sat a tray laden with covered dishes with wisps of steam escaping from the sides. A light breeze wound through the room from an open doorway at the far end. The light in the chamber shone outwards, revealing the edge of a large garden. The scent of flowers floated gently on the breeze.

Yuko walked into the room, setting her lantern down by the door. Without waiting for him, she served his dinner. Unlike before, she lingered while he ate. She gathered the dishes once he was through.

“Would you like a bath before retiring for the evening?” she asked.

His heart jumped at the idea, but he hesitated before answering. “That would be most welcomed, Yuko-san.”

Yuko led him to the baths and then back to his quarters. She set out his bedding for him.

“Would you be wanting someone to warm your evening, sir?” she asked reasonably.

He choked, and was incredibly grateful she hadn’t been looking in his direction when she’d asked. He felt his cheeks grow hot, though he shouldn’t have been surprised by the question.

“There seem to be enough covers. I should sleep quite warmly.” He didn’t dare look at her.

“Should I come wake you in the morning, then?” She didn’t sound offended. “And would you prefer your breakfast here or in the waiting room?”

“Yes, please wake me, and the waiting room would be fine.”

Yuko took the dishes left from his dinner and bid him goodnight. He lay down after she’d gone, realizing nothing so far had gone as he’d expected.

The next morning, Toshi gathered his things and made his way to the waiting room. As time passed, he began feeling unnaturally nervous. It bothered him he could feel so lonely in such a large place. The activity he knew should have been there—the bustling of servants, magistrates, and other visitors—was nonexistent on this side of the castle. It was eerie.

The day went much like the one before, and so did the two after that. No one spoke to him or came to see him except Yuko; and he was sure he made her uneasy, though he didn’t know why. He’d seen no sign of Kirin since the first day.

When Yuko came in with his afternoon tea, he decided he’d had enough. “I wish to see Kirin-san.”

Yuko looked up at him, surprise etched on her face. “Sir?”

“I wish to talk to Kirin-san, and I’d like to do it today. I want you to arrange this for me.”

“But, sir, he’s already doing all he can for you.”

“I realize that. But I want to talk to him anyway!” He saw her eyes widen as he snapped at her. He struggled to hold back his anger and frustration before he made more of a fool of himself.

Yuko prostrated herself before him, her face very close to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir, I meant no offense,”

she said. “I’ll see immediately if Kirin-san can come and meet with you.” She scrambled to her feet and was gone.

He sighed. He should have never lost his temper. He was supposed to be behaving like a samurai, not some spoiled child off the street. As a samurai, he had the right to take her life without explanation. It horrified him to have been responsible for the fear he’d seen in her eyes, since she actually believed that power was his.

Yuko didn’t return for the rest of the afternoon; evening was falling before he heard the door open again.

His apology was already rising to his lips when he abruptly realized his visitor was not the maid.

“Good evening. I apologize I was not able to come any sooner.” Kirin bowed and then came in, shutting the door behind him.

Toshi bowed in return and watched the old man as he approached to sit very close. He thought it rather odd, considering they were alone, but made no comment. He was distracted by the fact that, now he had the man here, he wasn’t at all sure what he should say. He wracked his brain trying to find a way to start off the conversation, even as Kirin sat expectantly and silently before him.

“I have been somewhat surprised not to have met anyone in the last few days,” he began.

Kirin nodded approvingly. “Shiroyama Castle has not been the center of activity it once was for a number of seasons. Our ways of life have been changing.”

This told Toshi nothing he didn’t already know. He decided to probe a little deeper. “Yes, so I’ve heard.

Yet, these changes don’t seem to be for the better.”

Kirin nodded. “Just so, Kazete-san. Such is the way of all things here. Though time flows like a great river, there is no wind with which to fill our sails to try and travel against it. So, we end up being dragged along by the current.”

Toshi said nothing right away, trying to decipher all Kirin might have just inferred. “Will the writ not prove strong enough to summon the wind, in my case? It is from Lord Asano himself. Surely, it’s worth something.” He couldn’t read the old man’s expression.

“I have been serving our lord for a very long time, Kazete-san. I have held many posts, seen many things.” Kirin’s voice dropped to an almost-inaudible whisper. “I know whose paper you hold, for Lord Asano has only issued such a writ once in his lifetime. It would prove most inopportune if your document was seen too often, and the truth came to light.”

Toshi felt his pulse quicken as he realized Kirin might really know all he implied he did. This also told him that Tsuyu might very well be one of the enemies Asaka had feared might already be within Asano’s walls.

“I will try my best to gain you the meeting you seek, if you will only indulge me with your patience,” Kirin continued. “The gods have smiled upon you, that is certain; or you would have never made it this far. Let us hope they’ll continue to do so and give aid to me to grant you what you seek.”

“But, Kirin-san, what about—” He forced himself to stop as Kirin bowed before him, ending their conversation. As he watched the older man leave, he realized his waiting was far from over.

Not long after Kirin left, Yuko appeared. Meekly, he let her lead the way back to his room.

Toshi met the dawn sitting in his spacious room. The sliding panels facing the garden had been pushed back, letting in the cool morning air and the pleasant scents springing from beyond.

He hadn’t slept well. His mind had been too preoccupied with his dilemma and his inability to solve it. No real choices were left to him, and he knew it. Though he didn’t like it, he would have to trust in Kirin’s ability to arrange a meeting for him with Asano. Making a fuss would only draw attention to himself, and that was the last thing he wanted—especially if his growing suspicions about Tsuyu were true.

So, in the meantime, he would just have to be content with waiting.

On the verge of desperation, he fervently wished he could talk to Miko. He wished he could share his troubles with her and bask for a while in her company.

With those thoughts in mind, he started wondering where she and all the others were. Were they hiding in the city, or were they still out in the lands surrounding it? Perhaps they were waiting just beyond the castle walls. Would they know something had gone wrong? Or would Asaka believe him to have reneged on his task?

He shook his head, trying to drive such thoughts away. He sent a prayer to Buddha that the Enlightened One might lend him the patience of the sun. It never hurried or grew impatient. The sun traveled the path of the sky every day without fail. He needed to do the same.

Having nothing better to do, he stripped to his underwear and began practicing his exercises. A thin layer of perspiration covered his body when a soft rap at his door brought him to a stop. He sat down next to his folded clothes.

The door slid open and Yuko bowed to him from the hallway.
“Ohayo gozaimasu.”

“Good morning,” he replied.

Yuko smiled and came inside with his breakfast. “Kazete-sama, will you be taking lunch in the waiting room?”

He hesitated a moment before replying. “No, here will be fine. I won’t be going to the waiting room today.”

Yuko nodded, making no comment at the change in his routine.

He ate his breakfast in silence as she sat nearby, ready to serve any need. Though he longed for company, her presence made him uncomfortable. Yuko treated him as a samurai, which he wasn’t. She even treated him as if he were older than she, which he also wasn’t. On top of that, he was a little afraid to trust anyone here—he had too much to lose.

After breakfast, the rest of the morning wore on slowly. It didn’t help him to know this was but the first of an indefinite number of long days to follow.

As he had sat, stared and fidgeted in the waiting room before, he now did the same on the small porch outside his room. He had his lunch there, staring out into the immense garden. Lunch consisted of grilled eel, rice, crisp seaweed, sake and tea; yet it all tasted like gruel to him. He wondered dejectedly how long Asano’s people would let him stay there eating the lord’s food, sleeping in the lord’s rooms, using up the servants, before they would get tired of it and kick him out, his quest unfulfilled.

Yuko moved quietly around him, serving, pouring, even cleaning; but he barely noticed her presence. He never let the wrapped kettle out of his sight for any reason, though. The crux of his duty lay always at his side.

Why had so many people died for that kettle? What was so important about it that people were willing to kill for it? Did the rumors Miko heard when Asaka first came here have anything to do with it or not?

He doubted daimyos disappeared every day. But, despite that, why was it proving so difficult to give the kettle to the man who’d supposedly wanted it all along? Had something happened because he hadn’t gotten it when he’d first sent Asaka on his mission? Could that be why things here had changed so much?

But what could a kettle have to do with something that important?

He sighed, not knowing the answer to any of his questions. It looked like he might never find the answers. He would never meet Lord Asano. Asaka-sama and the others would spend eternity wandering the earth because of him, their duty unfulfilled because they dared entrust this task to a foolish peasant boy.

“Stop it!” He slapped his thigh hard, trying to snap himself out of the cascading despair he was falling into.

“Sir?” Yuko looked up from behind him, a teapot in one hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you, Yuko-san,” he quickly explained. “I think I’m going for a long walk in the garden.”

Not waiting for a response, he grabbed the wrapped kettle, slipped on some sandals and stepped off the porch. Stoking the anger he felt and using it to keep back the despair, he stiffly took the first stone path he came on.

The sounds of birds gaily flitting through the trees drifted all around him. A small waterfall poured into a pond full of brightly colored giant carp. The echoing sound of bamboo striking stone came at regular intervals as a miniature stream filled a hollow rod that would tip down, once full, to spill its contents and then start the process all over again.

Though the beauty and solitude around him should have helped to calm him, he could find no comfort in his surroundings. Privacy was something everyone coveted, but not like this. Not when there was no end in sight.

Feeling alone, though he was in a city of thousands, he stopped as he strolled amidst a clump of bamboo and tall pines, deciding he should turn back. A frightening hunger for human company had grown inside him. He decided he should satisfy it even if it was only with watching Yuko work.

Turning to go back, he arrived at an intersection. He stared at it, unable to remember from which of the two paths he’d come. He looked around but couldn’t spot his room. He realized he had no idea how long he’d been walking. He’d never thought the garden would be as extensive as it was.