The Seabird of Sanematsu (13 page)

“Secrets are often kept to prevent one from being distraught or discontented by the information.” Sanematsu sobered. “I have kept you and your language secret for a selfish reason. I do not wish to share you with others. You are…special to me.”

His confession took her aback. What was she to do with this knowledge? Now she understood the need to keep secret what might be upsetting to someone. His words bothered her in a manner she could not identify, though the feeling was a warm and comforting one. She was bolstered with courage to meet with his council by having heard them.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The chamber echoed with the sounds of the soldiers as Aderyn was led into the huge audience hall used for feasts and large gatherings. She had not felt this much a prisoner since her first day in Sanematsu’s house.

A tall latticework screen like those used to divide the wide rooms into small intimate areas loomed before her. Made of strips of reed split very thin and backed with transparent silk then decorated with artwork to better hide those behind it, the byoubu was a perfect shield. Through it the men would be able to see her arm movements and the wave of uchiki sleeves if she made any grand gesture; and with a little effort and something to set where it could push the reeds apart, she would have been able to see the men it blocked from view.

The shadowy outline of the Council of Elders gave the impression that they sat in an arc with a wide space between them and the screen. Her entourage fell back, and Hamasaki indicated she was to kneel.

Somewhere in the large room sat Lord Sanematsu Yoshihide.

“Tori, you are now in the presence of the Council of Elders of the Satsuma Province of Kyushu.” His voice boomed with authority as it had the first day he spoke with her. “You will submit to their questions with respect and honesty.”

“Yes, my lord.” Aderyn spoke without a hint of fear. Hearing his voice gave her strength and courage. He would catch her should she fall. At least, she hoped he would. Could she count on their friendship to save her life?

In her lessons with Sachi, Aderyn had learned Lord Yoshihide was an instrument of enforcement for his grandfather and the four old men. His actions were usually in response to their decisions, although not always. Would the council actually decide her fate? Or was that just how it appeared?

“Barbarian.” Sanematsu Shigehide spat the word, an opening volley in what she suspected would become a war. “My grandson has been remiss by failing to give you audience before us. Perhaps you could explain why. Was it your suggestion?”

“Many pardons, Great Lord,” Aderyn spoke as Sachi did when she conversed with such men. “I am a foreigner, but if my teachings are correct, only Lord Sanematsu Yoshihide may answer such a question. Is he not daimyo of Satsuma Province? What he chooses to do needs no explanation, especially from a woman.”

“Hmmph,” Lord Shigehide snorted.

“Foreigner.” Imaizuni entered the fray and allied himself to the elder Sanematsu. “If you are so knowledgeable, you know our shores do not welcome outsiders. Why do you come here and expect the privilege of living?”

“Respectfully, my lord, you must ask Lord Sanematsu Yoshihide. It is his wisdom and blessing under which I exist. If you continue with such questions, I must refuse to answer them, as I am not our daimyo and cannot answer for him.”

She was sure they would not overlook her use of “our,” claiming Sanematsu as her master as well as theirs. Would they hold it for or against her?

**
*

“Lord Yoshihide.” Sanematsu Shigehide turned to his grandson. “I wish to speak to you of another matter. Surely, you can hear me on this.”

“Yes, honorable Grandfather.” Sanematsu made an effort to remove the pleased smirk from his face. Tori’s answers were well-stated, veiled with diplomacy. Her responses proved she was learning and Sachi was an ideal teacher. The council was not pleased with her, since his grandfather was changing the subject.

“Lord Kanna’s eldest daughter is of marriageable age. It would be a wise arrangement if you were joined. I will proceed with the betrothal.”

“You will refrain from making any joining plans until I advise you to do otherwise. Now, you have requested an audience with Tori and I have granted it. From now on, I will decide any matter concerning her. You men will confine your advice to politics and governmental affairs.” He spoke in a manner he usually avoided when he met with the council. The fact he no longer needed their sagacious guidance had been clear for some time. He was tired of the pretense of allowing them to lead him, but he was not ready yet to dismiss them. “This audience is concluded.”

The men of the council sat, stunned and angry. The façade of council rule was crumbling, and the old men had to be sensing the approaching end to their reign. If they were honest with themselves, they would realize he, whom they thought they managed, permitted them that power and thus was in control all along.

He understood his grandfather’s comment about a new wife was a tactic to distract Tori from thinking she could influence him in such a direction. Yet they must have known she had not shown any overt behavior toward him of an affectionate nature. She offered him friendship, and the idea warmed him.

He rose and walked around to the other side of the byoubu, pausing to look down at Aderyn. When she raised her face to him, he smiled. Something inside the center of his chest swelled with pride and affection.

“Come.”

**
*

She followed him, the proper distance behind to his left. He led her to the garden pavilion, covering the distance with long strides. Aderyn tried her best to keep up.

She had convinced Sachi to allow her to exchange the wooden geta for a pair of rope-soled slippers so she could walk faster. Sachi did not understand why she needed to move quicker but had provided the footwear. Aderyn wished she could find a replacement for the narrow-hemmed uchiki with all its layers as well, but she had never seen women in the castle wear anything else. The peasant women and servants did wear plain attire similar to the men’s, but not the upper-class women.

Sanematsu strode with masculine grace in the formal kosode he had worn to attend the council. Sachi had explained his attire once when he was dressed for an audience with a visiting daimyo. Aderyn had seen only a glimpse because Sachi and Hamasaki had hurried her away to her rooms out of the visitors’ view.

This time she could study his kami-shimo, an outfit made up of an over-jacket with stiffened shoulders called a daimon and the everyday hakama. Beneath the daimon was a dark blue hitatare and a white undergarment, a hitoe. The daimon, with its batwing shoulders, made an impressive figure out of the already imposing Sanematsu.

While traversing the distance between the council chamber and the garden, she pondered the meeting. She had dreaded the encounter since the beginning, being led by Sachi to believe the elders held the power to decide her fate. What she had seen was just the opposite. They had puffed and postured, taking great pride in their positions, but nothing had happened or was threatened. The only hint of action was a suggested betrothal for Sanematsu Yoshihide.

Why had something so personal been mentioned in front of her? Did they think she wanted to be wife to their daimyo? Her face warmed with a rush of blood at the thought.

And what about Sanematsu? How did he feel about the meeting and what had taken place? Was he against having a new wife? Why? Did it have anything to do with her? What if it did? Would she welcome such attentions? The heat on her cheeks increased, and her chest seemed full.

As they crossed the courtyard, Aderyn concentrated on the crest of two hawk feathers crossed on a wooden wheel at the center of Sanematsu’s back. That kamon of the Sanematsu clan was emblazoned on each sleeve and both sides of his upper chest as well as mid-back. So focused was she on the design she almost plowed into him when all of a sudden he stopped to dismiss the guards. None seemed to notice her nose had almost been against their master’s spine as she took hasty steps backward.

The guards stationed themselves about the garden house as Sanematsu climbed the steps and turned her way.

“Ko-tori, I see by your reddened face that the council has upset you. I wish there was a way for me to make up it up to you.”

“Oh, I am…That is not…It was not too hard.” Aderyn stood on the pathway and gathered herself. His mention of her embarrassment increased her shame. Why did he have to tell her she was blushing?

Yet, she was pleased. This was as close to an apology as she would ever get from Lord Sanematsu, and she was warmed that he would even try. The men of Nihon were publicly--and most of the time privately--never sorry for anything they did or said.

“It is likely I have only succeeded in making them angry with me, and they will avenge themselves on you.”

Had she managed to assuage the elders? Or had she irritated them? Her presence and obvious closeness to Lord Sanematsu riled most of those around him, yet he continued to take up for her. She was his prize, a pet. No, she could not think of herself as a cat, tended by its master, brought out and petted at his leisure. She was a guest, a pampered prisoner whom he entertained in his idle hours.

But this was not correct either. Over the weeks, they had built a friendship, a trust that allowed him to speak against his council on her behalf. From their reaction, he did not treat them in that manner very often, if ever. Would the change in his demeanor toward them help or hinder her?

“You are so wise for a…” He looked at her, his eyes solemn and intense.

“A barbarian? Or a woman? I am more of a girl by your standards.” She grinned at him, tilting her head in that coquettish way she had seen her sisters affect.

Sanematsu nodded.

“Yes, you are all of those, as well as my friend.” He sat and waved her to do the same. “I have a special meeting arranged for you, more pleasant, I hope. My daughters have been badgering me to allow them to meet you. They can be most persistent.”

A maid appeared with a tray of tea, juice and manju. Aderyn had come to love the pastries made at Lord Sanematsu’s request.

“I know how that can be. My sisters and I could talk our father into almost anything if we tried hard enough.” If Sanematsu’s daughters were as influential as she and her sisters, they could be a worse danger than the council. All at once, she was terrified.

“I must confess, my daughters do have me well in hand, and I, in turn, spoil them without thought. I am afraid the men who take them to wife will have a difficult time.”

Aderyn read his face. Although often as not he was unreadable, she had come to discover the tiny details of behavior and expression that reflected his mood. Now, he was an open book, his tremendous love for his children in his eyes.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A melodic clamor of soft voices and giggles alerted the adults of the approach of the girls and their nurses.

“Here they come,” Sanematsu announced.

From his left, the group came toward the pavilion. The girls wore bright, single-layered osode tied with wide white sashes. Their hair was long and simply done, ribbons adorning the ponytails. The two little ones wore black canvas shoes while the elder two wore geta.

“They have been to your beach.” Sanematsu smiled her way. “They wanted to see what you found so interesting there.”

“I like the ocean. The smell, the sight, the sounds are all a big part of my life,” she tried to explain.

The daughters arrived at the steps. When she caught sight of him, Chiyo cried out for her father and began to squirm in her nurse’s grasp. Sanematsu called his children to him.

“Ah, my little crane.” He caught Chiyo as she lunged from her nurse’s arms to grab his neck. “Tori, this is my youngest, Chiyo.”

Once in her father’s lap, the three-year-old sat still and content.

“What have you been doing?” he asked her.

“I went to the water,” she replied in baby babble. “See.” She pushed a seashell towards his nose, eager for her father to approve of her treasure.

“I see quite well!” He laughed and leaned backwards to avoid being injured. He took the small arm in his hand to pull it away from his face. “It is lovely. Here, take this and run along.” The toddler crammed the pastry he gave her in one piece into her mouth.

The other young child stood at the bottom of the pavilion steps with her nurse. The older girls had come up to kneel before Sanematsu. The bows exchanged between father and daughters went unnoticed by Aderyn, and his attention and eyes rested on the reluctant offspring.

“Miyo is being bashful, Tori,” he confessed. “Usually she is talkative, inquisitive and rambunctious, always into something she should not be. The nurses assure me this is as it should be. She is six.”

Aderyn smiled and nodded as though she knew what he was talking about. Truth be told, she had no idea if he was right or wrong, knowing little of children.

“Miyo, did you not find a treasure also?” Sanematsu called to his daughter.

Aderyn warmed to hear him speak so gently to her. He gave Chiyo to her nurse, who took the satisfied child away to the nursery.

“No.” Miyo put the fingers of her left hand into her mouth. The nurse removed the hand and encouraged her forward. At the same time, she spoke into her ear. The girl shook her head and hung back.

“What did you find?” Sanematsu sensed a secret.

The older girls giggled behind their hands and turned to look at their little sister. Aderyn caught their surreptitious glances her direction.

She was not surprised at their beauty. The two girls’ features were exquisite and delicate, their eyes dark and wide. Aya, Sanematsu’s stepdaughter, and Hatsu shared a maternal resemblance. Hatsu also shared with the two younger girls some of their father’s looks. His features, outstandingly handsome for a man, became exquisite in the young women he had sired.

“She found a crab!” Hatsu said, excited about being the one to tattle. “Show Father your fingers,” she urged Miyo.

They reminded Aderyn of her sisters. They had often banded together against her to force her into doing or admitting something against her will.

“Come, Miyo, let me see.”

Concern etched on his face, Sanematsu went toward the girl. The little girl shied away from the daimyo.

“Please show me, Miyo,” he coaxed, squatting to the child’s level and reaching toward her. The gentle tone sent a glow of contentment through Aderyn.

The child threw her arms around her father’s neck. She hugged him close, and soft sobs came from the face buried in his shoulder. Sanematsu clasped her to him. He spoke calm words to persuade her to release him so he might see her injury, and the child held up her hand for inspection. She sniffled as her father manipulated her bruised fingers.

Satisfied the child was not permanently harmed, Sanematsu straightened to his full height. A dark flush colored his face, and his eyes flashed as he slapped the child’s nurse. The maid cowered, her eyes downcast, but made no effort to excuse herself or to flee his wrath.

The sight of the abuse, as well as Sanematsu’s actually meting out such punishment, caused Aderyn’s stomach to clench as though
she
had been struck. How could the man with whom she’d spent so many calm and pleasant hours cause pain to a woman? He was a warrior, but this was not war.

As he stood glaring at the maid who was charged with his daughter’s welfare, however, she came to understand his fierce reaction. He was a father, concerned about his baby, wanting only the best for his daughters. Still, the sudden violence left her unnerved.

“How did this happen? You are to make sure they are not harmed!” He inhaled deeply; the breathing raised and lowered his shoulders. He turned to Miyo, who stood holding onto his hakama. “Go. Have my physician attend her.”

He gave the child a cake and dismissed her. She forgot the sore fingers, intent on the sweet, and went with her nurse.

Sanematsu faced the pavilion and held his arms wide. The older girls ran down the steps to embrace him. The wide sleeves of his osode draped them, one on each side. Aderyn envied the way he touched the girls with familiarity. Just a brush of his hand against hers when he took a tea bowl from her made her want to take that hand in hers. When he bent to look at her drawings, she wanted to stroke his soft raven hair.

Could this be another emotion beginning to grow deep within her? She begrudged the closeness his daughters, his mistress and even Sachi had with him. There was a separation between them, culturally and racially as well as the space of captor and prisoner. Her position, never out of her mind, would not allow her to open to the sensations and desires she was gestating.

But she found it harder and harder to ignore the affection she’d become more and more aware of since the night she spilt hot tea in his lap. The yearning had strengthened. She scoffed at the idea, remaining confused and lost amid her feelings.

**
*

“These are my young women, Tori. Aya-hime, Hatsu-ue, this is Tori.” Sanematsu led his daughters up the steps to retake their places. They bowed to one another, Aderyn’s deeper, a perfect reflection of Sachi’s instruction. Lower caste persons bowed lower than those higher in rank. His daughters were above her in status.

When they finished, a maid poured tea. The females eyed each other while the male observed. The girls would follow all the polite formal etiquette they had been taught, so nothing personal would pass among them.

Any animosity towards Tori could manifest itself years from now when his daughters had households of their own. Wives of daimyo and samurai were obedient and submissive, yet held a gentle power to influence their men. If one of his daughters hated Tori enough, she could entice her husband to move against her. The husband might use assassination, open rebellion or blackmail to eliminate the foreigner in their midst. If the barbarian remained among them.

Sanematsu did not see such a devious nature in any of his daughters. At thirteen, Aya was becoming a willowy slip of a woman. Nine-year-old Hatsu, prone to chubbiness, hinted at attaining some of the unusual height of her father. She was already taller than her half-sister by several inches.

“Are you going to replace Tsuta-sama?” Hatsu asked Aderyn with unaccustomed bluntness.

“Hatsu-ue, you should not ask such questions,” Aya advised her sister in a soft-toned reproach.

“But is that not what usually happens?”

They talked as if Aderyn were not at hand.

Sanematsu cleared his throat. “Aya-hime, Hatsu-ue, this is not proper conversation.” His tone was neither harsh nor stern nor was it soft and tender. “Tori, you must forgive them. Hatsu has always spoken what is on her mind.”

“I am not offended, my lord,” Aderyn admitted. “I do not think anyone could replace Tsuta-sama.”

“She has been with me a long time.” Sanematsu gave her a mischievous smile.

Aderyn’s composure crumbled. She bowed her head to hide her blush, evidence of her discomfort at his last words. Sachi, in fulfilling her position as Tori’s teacher, reported to him in detail his seabird’s thoughts on pillowing. During one of these disclosures, he had learned of the young barbarian’s disturbance over Tsuta’s place.

Women of his world were open and liberated with their bodies. This was not to say they were immodest or promiscuous. They accepted the function and needs of their womanhood, fulfilling those urges as was necessary. Tori was embarrassed and ashamed of pillowing and the workings of her woman’s body. Sachi had explained Tori’s unease with the relationship of men and women. It seemed that, in her world, a man remained faithful to one woman, and those who did not were seen as wrongdoers.

This was one of the many things that made Ko-tori an enigma to him.

Sanematsu was embarrassed for her and ashamed of himself. Still, he was responsible for her inner harmony and must endeavor to restore her calm.

“Tori is a gifted artist, my daughters,” he told them, hoping to restore her serenity.

“I have heard, Father, from Sachi-sama,” Aya said. “Tori, perhaps you could teach us? We have had many hours practice with calligraphy.”

“I would be happy to. You could help me with my calligraphy. Sanematsu-sama has started teaching me.” She glanced his way, giving him a soft smile.

“I would be most honored, although Father is much better than I,” Aya agreed.

The girls began to speak with Sanematsu. They told him about their morning’s expedition. Aya shared Aderyn’s enthrallment with the ocean, but Hatsu thought it boring.

“Father,” Aya addressed him with an over-serious tone, “have you had time to see the new samurai, the young men who have finished their testing and been sent to your guard?”

Sanematsu was amused that his daughter felt it necessary to remind him of which samurai she spoke. Every spring, young men of samurai rank from all over Nihon went to Kyoto to be tested and be recognized as warriors. It was a ceremonial rite of passage called gempuku, wherein a young boy became a man. The ceremony, held when a boy reached the height of an adult male, could take place anywhere, but it had become customary to hold a yearly festival in Kyoto for the high-ranking samurai sons.

They were then sent to their father’s daimyo’s garrison for service. Thirty-four such newly declared men had been added to Sanematsu’s ranks. They had yet to be presented to him, there being other formalities to go through first.

“No, I have not. Lord Matsumoto sees to their duties when they arrive. Has one offended you?” No young man had offended her. Attracted her attention was more like it.

“Oh, no, Father!” Aya was flustered. Although the area of the courtyard was cold after the descent of the sun behind the mountains, she employed her silk fan with vigor to cover her agitation. “I had wondered, that is all.”

“I have an idea. When they are presented to me, you may sit at my side and give me your opinion of each one,” he said in a roguish tone.

“You are most gracious, Father, but I must decline.” Aya folded her fan and pushed it into her sash. The maneuver hid her face from him. “I know nothing of the fighting arts and could not speak to you with any intelligence.”

“Aya-hime,” Aderyn interrupted. Aya raised her gaze from studying her hands. “I often sit by the practice area and sketch your father and his men at work. Would you like to see what I have finished or maybe sit with me? That is, if Lord Sanematsu does not object.”

“Father, could I?” Aya turned to her stepfather with expectancy.

“As you wish.”

The shy girl had already made a choice. With luck, the young man Aya fancied would fill the requirements to be her husband. Sanematsu would use Tori to help him discover who this warrior-swain was.

The girls chattered on with him while Aderyn tended to the tea and juice she and the girls enjoyed. He slipped from role to role, accepting the many characters he was forced to assume--a gentle, affectionate father; an angry, frightened father; a wise, teasing father. The daughters withheld little, and in return, he showered them with his affection.

Sanematsu took note of the dichotomy of his barbarian prisoner through the evening. Tori would display great maturity; then, out of the blue, the girls would say something to cause his foreign friend to blush. In many ways, she was as young as the least of his daughters, but there were so many other ways in which she was every bit as much a woman as his mistress.