Sisters of the Sword (15 page)

BOOK: Sisters of the Sword
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I leaped back just in time as the trunk snapped. And then the tree was falling! Branches whipped the air and at last the dead willow tree went crashing to the ground.

Hana and Tatsuya came running across the rock garden, bursting with excitement and exclamations of wonder. “You did it! You really did it!”

I stared at the toppled tree and smiled. “I think I'm ready.”

A
t last the day of the tournament dawned. The first day of
Seimei
, true to the weather prophets, was clear and bright. I could hardly believe how long Hana and I had been at the dojo. I stood at the gap in the screens of our tiny bedroom and gazed out across the gardens and courtyards, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I thought about Mother and Moriyasu. Had Goku found them? He hadn't said anything, but I knew that if anyone could find them, Goku could.

The air was warmer now. Spring was really here and the cherry blossom trees were in glorious full bloom. I could see across the walkways and low walls to the main gates of the school. They had been opened wide and even this early in the day there was a steady stream of people arriving for the tournament—farmers from the neighboring villages rubbed shoulders with merchants and craftsmen, local samurai families hurried in the wake of powerful lords
carried on gilded palanquins.

By midmorning there was a festival atmosphere around the fight arena, which had been set up in the main courtyard. Those without the privilege of shaded seats laughed and joked as they jostled for places on long wooden benches. Snack sellers hawked their wares and a few peasants in ragged jackets sold tiny wooden figures that had been painted to look as though they were wearing the brown kimono and black
hakama
trousers of the dojo. “Buy your champions!” the woodcarvers cried. “Buy your champions here!”

“Are you nervous, Kimi?” Hana asked, as we helped each other to dress for combat, lacing on shoulder guards and leather sleeve armor.

“A little.” I slung my sword from my sash, beside Moriyasu's little wooden
bokken
, which I was wearing as a good-luck charm. “Are you?”

She shook her head. “We've worked hard and done all we can to prepare. Winning or losing is out of our hands now.”

“I just hope I've done enough,” I said grimly, but my words were drowned out by the sudden blare of conch-shell trumpets announcing the arrival of the
Jito
.

“He's here,” Hana whispered.

“Tatsuya says Uncle will be the one to judge each
round of the tournament and choose the champion,” I told her. “I can't help thinking that gives Kenichi an unfair advantage.”

“Uncle is not interested in what is fair,” Hana agreed. “And neither is our cousin.”

As we made our way along the walkway, my heart began to pound with excitement and anticipation. At last, the time had come for Hana and me to put our hard work and practice to the test. I could hear the excitement of the crowd as I neared the main courtyard, and as I turned the corner I saw rows and rows of eager faces.

The whole school had gathered, along with half the province, it seemed. Hundreds of people filled the wooden benches that lined the huge square fight arena. The competing students were kneeling in rows near the first fight area. Among them were servants and peasants from the village, all treated as equals today.

Some of the boys looked anxious; others were lost in quiet contemplation as they prepared their minds for the combat ahead. One of the young masters was walking around the edge of the fight arena, checking that the ground was even and that the white raked underfoot had been neatly swept.

Uncle was sitting up on a high wooden platform, shaded by a lacquered paper parasol. He was wearing
formal dress, his red and gold robes arranged around him in flowing folds. Two swords glimmered at his waist. Beside him sat Master Goku, his face impassive.

Tatsuya joined us as Hana and I made our way toward the rows of competitors. He was dressed for combat in leather armor, his
jo
in his hand. He seemed to have gained a new confidence since the
cha no yoriai
last night. He walked with his head held high, drawing glances of admiration from people in the crowd.

As we moved between the rows of merchants and farm workers, I realized I could hear them whispering about the new
Jito
.

“I hear he's gathering weapons,” muttered a skinny man.

“Breaking alliances across the kingdom,” said another.

“He's half the man his brother was,” agreed a wrinkled old woman, cooling herself with a painted paper fan.

I took strength from the knowledge that the people hadn't forgotten my father.

The crowd shifted around us, murmuring, and we came to an area that was roped off with lengths of silk. Men and women in expensive-looking kimonos were seated under a long billowing canopy, which
shaded them from the sun. Servants in plain blue jackets and trousers served them tea in beautiful porcelain bowls, and I even recognized a few of them as visitors in my father's household. These were important local families, friends of the
Jito
.

As I passed by with Hana and Tatsuya, a hand suddenly reached out and touched my sleeve.

Surprised, I turned around—and found myself looking directly into the face of Miura no Megumi, one of my mother's oldest friends. She was as tall and elegant as a willow tree in her green silk kimono, her red-painted lips curved in a friendly smile.

My heart began to pound with fear.

“Don't I know you, child?” she asked me.

“N-no,” I stuttered, trying to deepen my voice to sound more boyish.

“Oh, but we have met before,” she insisted, her dark eyes twinkling with good humor. “I just can't remember where…wait, it will come to me in a moment….”

All at once, Tatsuya stepped forward. “Forgive me, dear lady,” he said in a pompous voice that sounded remarkably like Ken-ichi. “This boy is my servant. He's a lowly peasant from a northern province. I am sure a lady of your standing cannot have met him before.”

He bowed deeply and respectfully, and then smiled up at her. “I, however, am delighted to
make your acquaintance.” He puffed himself up importantly, looking more and more like Ken-ichi with every moment. “May I introduce myself? I am Lord Fujiwara….”

As he uttered the word
Lord
, Tatsuya shot me a look that seemed to say,
Get out of here, now!
My mother's friend, meanwhile, seemed impressed at finding herself face to face with such a young lord. As she bowed low to Tatsuya, Hana and I hurriedly slipped away through the crowd.

“Thank goodness Tatsuya's mind is as fast as the arrows he fires,” Hana whispered.

“We should have been prepared for something like that to happen,” I said, biting my lip in frustration. “We could have ruined everything just then. No more mistakes. This is the chance we've been waiting for!”

At last we reached the area where the other competing students and servants were kneeling. We saw Ko sitting with Sato, Genta, and the boy who'd injured his ankle during the bout with Ken-ichi. Farther away sat my cousin himself, oozing confidence and flanked by his two friends. He sneered as he saw Tatsuya hurry to join us.

“I think I convinced her,” Tatsuya said to me in a low voice.

“That you were a lord?” I said with a smile. “I should think so—you almost convinced me!”

He grinned back at me. “No…,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I think I convinced her that you were beneath her notice. But I'd keep out of her way, just in case.”

We kneeled down together with Hana. I closed my eyes, allowing my heartbeat to settle as I composed myself and summoned the energy that had consumed me the previous night.

On the raised platform, Master Goku kneeled before the crowd and spread his arms wide. “I would like to welcome everyone to our tournament today,” he said. Turning to Uncle, he bowed low. “We are honored to have the presence of our new
Jito
, Lord Hidehira.”

Hidehira smiled thinly and bowed back, red and gold robes rippling.

“Many of you,” Goku went on, turning back to the crowd, “have come great distances to witness acts of incredible courage and skill. I have seen these boys in training and I guarantee that you will not be disappointed.” He gazed down at the students, folding his hands into his wide sleeves. “You will all fight honorably, as your training dictates.” The students all bowed their heads respectfully. Goku smiled and straightened up, his gaze sweeping the crowd once more. “Let the combat commence!” he exclaimed.

We all bowed to the
Jito
, though I hated every
moment of it. If it wouldn't draw immediate rebuke and attention, I would have refused. Next, we bowed to Master Goku, and I did it with sincerity and humility.

The competitors turned and formed a circle facing inward, and we all bowed to one another to show respect. Then the tournament had begun.

My first fight went well. I was matched with Sato, who I had seen fighting with Ko a number of times. I knew his moves and was able to anticipate his low strikes and easily block his high slices. Soon I had him pinned to the sandy ground, my knee against his chest and the flat of my knife held against his throat. He slapped the ground twice to show that he submitted. Mister Choji was the referee and he held my arm high as the crowd applauded my win. I glanced toward the platform where Uncle was sitting. He was far away and I could only see the color of his robes, but with each successive win, I knew I would move closer.

Soon it was Hana's turn to fight. She won her first bout against a village boy easily, and then drew Tatsuya as her opponent in the
jo
round in the first fight area in front of the
Jito
. I hoped that Uncle would not recognize her, but I knew with Hana's swift fighting movements, he would have a hard time getting a good look. Silence settled on the arena
as the fighters bowed to each other and to the
Jito
, then they took their places.

I watched as Hana let her weight settle evenly on both feet, centering herself. She held the wooden staff with both hands, her grip loose and easy, ready to slide along the shaft if necessary. She stared across the arena at Tatsuya. They measured each other for a moment.

Abruptly Hana attacked, letting out a yell as she ran forward and brought her
jo
down hard. Tatsuya blocked her, and the two weapons knocked loudly. Twisting, Hana swiftly jabbed the end of her
jo
at Tatsuya's stomach. Her feet slid through the white sand, moving quickly. Tatsuya deflected and danced around her, catching a glancing blow on the end of her
jo
.

They brought their weapons back close to their bodies for a moment and stepped around each other warily. They both rolled their wrists as they squared up again, their weapons twirling in front of them.

Tatsuya attacked suddenly, his
jo
spinning as he brought it down. Hana swiftly brought the
jo
over her head to block him, keeping her feet in a strong stance. A terrible clash tore the air, and I could see her arms were jarred.

I bit my lip, willing her on as she pirouetted, shifting her hands along the polished wooden shaft
to lunge again, feet dancing. But Tatsuya was quick. He moved in close and pushed one end of the
jo
behind one of Hana's legs. With a quick twist of his wrist, he buckled Hana at the knee.

Half kneeling, she grunted, her center of balance gone, and it was easy for Tatsuya to take her weapon from her. Hana had no choice but to concede.

Choji stepped into the arena and declared Tatsuya the winner, holding his arm high. The crowd cheered and applauded, some of the younger students putting their fingers to their mouths and whistling. I was torn—pleased for Tatsuya that he had won his bout, but devastated to see Hana out of the tournament.

Hana, however, was smiling and that made me feel a little better. She and Tatsuya bowed good-naturedly to each other and then turned to bow toward the
Jito
and Master Goku.

“Just wait until we fight hand to hand,” Hana teased him as they resumed their positions next to me.

“I think I would struggle to compete with your silent fists,” he responded with a warm smile.

I fought again and again, beating boys who were older and more experienced than I. The crowd seemed to enjoy the fact that a servant was winning. They hammered their fists on the wooden benches and hooted their approval. On the other side of
the courtyard, I could hear the crowd cheering on Ken-ichi's victories as well.

The sun moved higher across the sky. Gradually, through the morning, student after student was eliminated from the tournament, until just six remained. Tatsuya, Ken-ichi, and I were among them.

Slowly an expectant hush fell on the crowd, and Master Goku stood up.

“Friends and students,” he said. “This morning you have witnessed deeds of great skill. You have looked into the faces of future samurai and seen passion, discipline, and steely determination.” A buzz of agreement rose from the crowd. “The final round of combat will be a
ya-awase
, or archery duel, and we ask our great
Jito
, Lord Hidehira, to do us the honor of judging which contestant is the most skilled with a longbow.”

I saw Ken-ichi look up in shock, and then shoot a furious glance at Tatsuya. Archery was Ken-ichi's weak point, whereas we had all seen Tatsuya split arrow after arrow. And I had been training with the longbow, under Tatsuya's direction, for many phases of the moon.

I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed for a steady hand.

Hana helped me to strap a leather protector onto
my forearm and a quiver of arrows across my back. “You can do this, Kimi,” she said softly. “Focus.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she added, “Do it for Moriyasu.”

We all bowed in the direction of Master Goku and Lord Hidehira. Again, I gritted my teeth at having to bow to my treacherous uncle. Then we turned to make our way out into the middle of the fight area. I could see Ken-ichi in the middle of our little group. He was slightly behind Tatsuya, his shoulders broad beneath his leather shoulder padding. All around us, the crowd bubbled with excitement and a few of the younger students shouted encouragement.

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