The Seabird of Sanematsu (15 page)

“Yes, master.” Hikita departed.

**
*

Sachi sat opposite Tori playing one of the many games they had taught each other. Soft words at the door interrupted their giggling. The evening guard opened the shoji, and Hikita Takayasu charged in.

“Sachi, you will come with me,” he growled.

“Yes, anata danna-sama. Please, excuse me, Tori.”

The samurai stood impatiently as Sachi gathered up her uchiki--to cool her body in the humid night, she had folded it down around her waist so only the thin hitoe covered her slender shoulders. Then she stood and followed her husband out and down the halls.

As they neared the quarters of their master, he informed her, “Lord Sanematsu would have a moment of your time. He is troubled and wishes for you to send for a woman from the teahouse.”

“I do not think that will make his trouble any less.”

“I do not like the way the barbarian’s presence upsets Lord Sanematsu.” Hikita spoke boldly to his confidante and wife. “My job is to protect him, but I cannot protect him from what the girl does to him.”

“You are very wise, anata danna-sama.”

He had voiced his concern several times, sharing with her Tori’s effect on the man who held all their fates in his hands. But as much as they were servants of Sanematsu, they were also his friends.

“I do not see how you can help him.” Hikita shook his head, his shoulders drooping a bit.

“The woman he desires does not reside in the teahouse,” Sachi reflected, touching her husband’s arm.

“I am relieved I am not the only one who notices the…attraction.”

Hikita regarded his wife in an almost tender way. Sachi smiled at him.

“What are we to do?”

“Nothing, anata danna-sama.”

They arrived at the doorway to Sanematsu’s private chambers. Hikita opened the door, and Sachi entered.

**
*

In the time it took for Sachi to arrive, Sanematsu had rethought his plan. Until moments ago, he had been happy not to have anyone share his futon. Why was he now sending for a woman? He recognized the signs of sexual arousal, but did he really want to fulfill his lust? Could he?

“Good evening, Sachi-sama.” He had to say something, since he had called for her.

“Good evening, my lord.” Sachi added an extra bow of her head after she knelt.

“I had meant to ask a favor of you, but it is not important. You may return to whatever you were doing. Please excuse my interruption.”

“Very well, sire.”

Sachi left the chamber. She passed Hikita, leaving him as confused as she was.

Sanematsu watched the shoji close and called for more sake. He would not sleep, and the night promised to be long.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Aya sat beside Aderyn a distance away from where the warriors practiced. Aderyn held a paper and brush and employed both with skill. While Sanematsu’s stepdaughter was in possession of the same tools, her eyes were riveted on a young man. Aderyn could not say exactly which one, since there were so many bodies moving about.

At the start of the training session, all the men wore the same loose clothes, tied with a girdle at the waist. As the hours passed, they began to shed the coats to expose sweaty, corded pectorals and backs. Some of their hakama, like Sanematsu’s, looked as if they would fall down from the lack of hips to support them. This was perhaps not the place for decent young women.

Aderyn finished her sketch at the same time the men finished practice. As they dispersed, she relaxed her shoulders and hand. Aya rushed away, taking Aderyn’s supplies with her.

Sanematsu came over and smiled down at her. His bound hair glistened with sweat and stray strands fell around his ears and neck. The scent of wintergreen hairdressing carried in the air. He wiped without success at the rivulets of perspiration running down his face with the sleeve of his hitatare. The edges of the jacket gaped open.

“Did we pose well?” he asked.

“You acted as if you did not know I was even here.” She looked up the length of him. Her famished eyes passed from his narrow, dirty feet to his slender hips, over the flat stomach indented with a small navel to his wide, golden chest.

“I find it very hard to forget you are nearby.” He dropped to one knee in front of her. “It is a wonder I was not injured, because my mind was preoccupied.”

“My lord Sanematsu.” She reached to touch him, hesitated then pulled back before she made contact. “You must always keep your mind on your fighting.”

“I shall,” he reassured her.

She could tell he read her concern deep within her eyes. It was hard for her to hide her emotions the way he and his people did.

“My lord!” A retainer rushed forward.

“Yes?” Sanematsu rose and faced him, his manner cold and stony.

“Excuse me, but Lord Shigehide has called a council meeting and requests your presence at once.”

“Inform my grandfather I will bathe and be there at my leisure.” His dismissive tone gave no hint of argument or concern about his grandfather’s summons.

“Yes, sire.” The man rushed away.

“Come. Walk with me,” Sanematsu said to Aderyn. His smile softened the order, and in an uncharacteristic gesture, he reached out a hand to her.

She delicately placed her fingers in his palm and stood. With reluctance, she released his hand--hot, sweaty and hard with calluses--as soon as possible, bewildered by the feelings it stirred.

 
They walked toward the bathhouse.

“Who is that very old man?” She nodded at a man with stark white hair who stood off to the side of the practice area.

“My sensei,” he answered. “I thought he was old when he started teaching me the fighting arts. I can hardly imagine his years.”

“He must be very good.”

“With age, he has gained much wisdom. My father had Master Wada brought here for me when I was seven.”

He waved the guards away as they reached their destination. Even the elite Hikita and Hamasaki left.

“Why do you hesitate?” he questioned when Aderyn stopped at the stairs. He paused to face her, one foot on each step. “We were talking.”

“I cannot be with you while you bathe!” she protested, still unnerved by his unaccustomed touch.

“Of course, you can!” he exclaimed, his lips curved into a pleasant smile. As though reading her thoughts, he said, “You know very well it is not uncommon for women to bathe with men. And women are always attendants in the bathhouse for either.”

“But I have never shared my bath with anyone except Sachi-sama, and Hamasaki-sama is the only man with us. At least, he is dressed!” Her face burned. Lord Sanematsu would be naked. What would she do if she saw him so?

“I could order you to.” His voice was soft; the teasing glint in his eye she adored deepened.

“Would you?” He would not order her to do anything she did not wish to.

“In this matter, yes.” He entered the bathhouse. “Now, come with me.”

Aderyn hesitated. Every fiber screamed out for her to join him, to see the man beneath the clothing. She wanted to deny the desire as a wave of conscience swept through her. If a priest were nearby, she would have raced to confess and receive his absolution for her sinful thoughts.

Instead, she climbed the steps closer to the source of temptation.

As she entered the damp room, Aderyn looked for Lord Sanematsu in the shadowy interior. Two women hovered over him as he stood beside the tub, from which thick steam rose. Speechless, she watched as the maids peeled the clothing from his body. One pulled the jacket away from his torso, and the other untied the strings holding his pants up. Aderyn’s heart thumped in her chest, anticipating the view of Sanematsu Yoshihide’s nakedness.

The canvas garment slid down to his feet. The moment she saw the tight round buttocks, Aderyn fought to keep her hands from flying to cover her face. The maid knelt and gathered the pants into her hands as Sanematsu lifted his feet to free them. When he turned to take a seat on the low stool provided for him, Aderyn tried to fixed her stare on his chest instead of giving in to the impulse to let her eyes make the occasional quick dip to his navel…and beyond.

Her breath caught in her chest, and she struggled to move air through her lungs. Once he was seated, the view of his intimate areas was eliminated. That was, if she did not strain to peer into his lap.

The maids lathered, scrubbed and rinsed their master’s smooth skin. One untied the ebony hair and combed it until it hung past his shoulders. Some strands fell forward on his forehead, reminding Aderyn of the small boys she saw in Nishikata. The maid shampooed and rinsed his hair. When she finished, Sanematsu stood. Heat rose from Aderyn’s stomach, filling her chest and face with a flush as she waited for the next glimpse of his manhood.

Thankfully, he draped the small square towel used for washing over his groin, but as he stepped into the vat, Aderyn was subjected to a rear view. Water rolled off his broad shoulders, down his muscular back to his narrow waist and hips. The muscles of his glistening buttocks flexed beneath golden skin. His thighs were hard and smooth. She thought her heart would explode with its rapid beats.

A tingle arose between her legs, a dampness she attributed to sweat emerged from the deep parts of her. Her lower abdomen churned with desire for him.

When Sanematsu was submerged to his waist, sitting on the stool beneath the water, he removed the tenugui. He wrung it out and laid it on the tub’s edge. He did all of this as if aware of her naivete and not wishing to embarrass her. Aderyn could finally take a deep breath, but passion rolled within her.

She walked around the tub, took a seat on a dry stool beside the vat and dropped her hand into the water. Sanematsu immersed his head several times before he eased back against the edge.

Aderyn loved his hair--thick, dark and always shiny. It looked so much nicer unbound.

“As I was saying, Ko-tori, my father was very wise,” he said, returning to their conversation outside the bathhouse. “I began my warrior training at the age of three, learning to defend myself without a weapon. When I was seven they gave me my katana, and trouble ensued. That was when my choice of doing things with my left hand was severely challenged. The teachers were perplexed and did not know what to do with me.

“Being left-handed is thought, in Nihon, to be an evil thing, against all nature. I, myself, feel if I cannot use my eating sticks with my left hand…well, starving is also against nature!”

He laughed, and Aderyn smiled. His rare pleasant facial expressions had originally seemed uncharacteristic of him. The longer she was with him, the more he smiled, and the more familiar it became.

“My father, instead of concurring with their idea of forcing me to use my right, sided with my mother, who suggested the gods had made my left side stronger for their purposes. He sent samurai out to scour the land near and far for a left-handed teacher. It was a difficult task.

“A monk at the Asosan Temple, left-handed but under vows not to leave the temple, sent another brother, Master Wada. He taught me to use my difference to confound my opponent. A man faced with a ‘different’ challenger has to think how to proceed. Because I do not have to think, moving with conditioning and reflex, I am victorious in those few seconds of my enemy’s hesitation.”

“I understand too well, Sanematsu-sama,” she responded. “I, too, am left-handed.” She floated her hand across the surface of the hot water, warm tendrils wrapping around her in a cozy cocoon.

“I noticed.” He relaxed against the tub edge while he thought. “I think you should now call me by my first name.”

Surprised and nervous, Aderyn warmed with the request. To be allowed the use of someone’s common name was a great honor. By eliminating formality, he became less and less the powerful daimyo and more and more a man. What would he want in return? What did she have to give him, who had everything?

“I am unworthy of such an honor, my lord.” She dropped her chin and clasped her hands in her lap.

Sanematsu sat erect, the water sloshing against the cedar walls with the force of his movement, and lifted her chin with a finger.

“You are worthy of it, and all I have to offer you.” His face was solemn.

“As you would have it,” Aderyn whispered. “Yoshihide-sama.”