The Seabird of Sanematsu (32 page)

The workers in the yard appeared to go on about their tasks without concern for the two people shouting, yet she knew they listened and observed the exchange--the old gardeners moved to work nearer.

“You think too much of yourself, barbarian,” Matsumoto hissed, removing her hand from his arm as if he pulled an offensive bug off his clothing. “I will choose to ignore your ill manners.”

He put his back to her and made to move away.

“I do not care what you choose! I will not allow you to ignore me!” she shouted. “I demand you make known Lord Sanematsu’s message!”

Matsumoto hesitated. Then, he turned with slow and deliberate movements. He held his bare sword in his hand.

“I have had enough of your pestering!” He struck with a downward stroke.

Aderyn did not move. The clash of steel meeting steel rang through the courtyard, yet none of her guards had moved.

“I believe Tori-sama has a right to know what Lord Sanematsu says, unless it is of a military nature.” Nakata held Matsumoto’s sword at bay with his own. “In that case,
I
have.”

Matsumoto lowered his sword; his stare remained fixed on Aderyn. In almost the same movement, the katana slid into his scabbard and he withdrew the scroll from his sleeve. He tossed it to the sand.

“Do not cross my path, barbarian.”

Nakata retrieved the scroll and offered it to her.

“You had best read it, Nakata-sama. I am shaking too badly,” she confessed. “And…thank you.”

“It is my duty. But do not put yourself into jeopardy like that again. I am afraid my skill at sword drawing is not as Lord Matsumoto’s.”

“I will try not to provoke him again.”

Sanematsu required his men to study the fighting arts, and she had spent many hours beside the practice area watching the samurai perfect their skills in sword-fighting, fencing and empty-hand combat, most fascinated by the movements used in sword drawing. Matsumoto was good, but Sanematsu’s iaido talents were amazing. Often, she never saw the sword leave its scabbard or return, only the bare weapon in his hand in a lightning movement.

Nakata unrolled the scroll.

“Our lord is well. He has attended Bakafu in Kyoto.” The old general paused. “That is odd. The council and Lord Shigehide remain here.” He went back to the scroll. “The Bakafu has dissolved because the shogun has attempted to abdicate. Clans are fighting in Kyoto. Our lord wishes to avoid conflict and should return home by the next moon. He says preparations for a joining are to be started.”

He looked up at her.

“So, Aya-hime will have her groom,” Aderyn laughed.

“He does not say.” Nakata took his gaze from her. “It could be Sanematsu-sama who will have a new wife.”

An instant picture of Sanematsu and a Nihonese bride flashed in her mind. She chose to pretend she did not hear his observation.

“What else does he say?”

“Only military orders I will not bore you with.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

She left him. Her guards followed, so she could not react until she was in her room. She told herself she would not cry at all, but she lost her battle.

The room, so familiar before, was alien. Nothing comforted her. The pain was as if someone had beaten her with a rod. She closed the shoji and sank to her knees. Clutching a handy zabuton to her, she buried her face to muffle her sobs and cried as she hadn’t since childhood. Every tear she had dammed behind her firm resolve spilled forth. She sobbed to relieve the center of her chest of its burden, as if the tears originated there.

Why? Why did she feel this way now? What few tears she had given in to when Tsuta had threatened to take him from her had been shed silently. What had changed?

The answer came without difficulty. He had not disclosed his love for her then. She had not lain next to him, felt what little warmth there was in his damaged body seep into her, felt his gentle breath in his sleep. Her heart hurt because she would never be happy sharing Sanematsu. Her love for him was total, so complete she could not give him over to another. How could he? If he loved her at all, it would be impossible.

Behind her, the shoji moved. Sachi approached her huddled body.

“Tori-sama?” she spoke. “Might I be of help?”

“No.” Aderyn sat up and dried her face. “Thank you.”

She would cry no more. The ache transformed to emptiness as she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Sanematsu would want her to be strong. If he shared his futon with another woman…he would never enter hers. He would desire her all the more, but he would not have her.

“Sachi-sama.”

“Yes?”

“Lord Sanematsu has sent word to prepare for a joining.”

Sachi knelt beside her. “Whose?”

“Aya-hime’s or…or Sanematsu-sama’s,” she explained, the words catching in her throat.

**
*

“Oh.” Sachi thought before she spoke. It was hard to imagine Aya joined so soon. It took too much time for arrangements. A go-between must make contact with the groom’s family, formulate the Purification Ritual and make plans for the feast to follow. It was not something done in haste.

“Sachi-sama…” Tori spoke in a hush and turned her face to her friend. “…is there any way to find out who he intends to join with?”

“No, he will have to tell you himself.”

Could Sanematsu plan to join with Tori? Or was it a female of the council’s choosing? She had her answer--Sanematsu could not join with a yabanjin.

Tori bobbed her head.

“I should be happy.” Her smile was forced. “He will be home within a month.”

“That is true.” Sachi looked for a way to move away from this distressing subject. “Shall we continue with your wordbook?”

“I suppose so.” Tori’s drooped shoulders told her the girl had resigned herself to her karma. “I have nothing else to occupy myself.”

**
*

A week later, Sachi found her performing the strangest behavior yet. She was in Koji’s stall.

“Tori-sama? Are you all right?” She looked down at the hay-strewn stall. “Should you be sitting here?”

Tori raised her face.

“I am fine, and why not? It is warm and clean. Uma-sama has Hosato-sama mucking it out continually. Plus Koji does not mind.” She patted the thick equine foreleg. The mare waved her tail at the pestering flies.

“But, why? Are you unhappy?” She did not know what to do. Sanematsu would not approve of his barbarian sitting in a stall with a horse.

“I am lonely, bored, depressed, angry, disillusioned--and one year older today!” Koji jumped at Tori’s shout. “If my calculations are correct, I have been in Nihon one year and three months, and my birthday has come and gone in the end of summer without notice.”

She stood and left the stall, brushing hay from her clothes. Sachi picked straw from the girl’s hair, hanging straight down in waves.

“May I congratulate you belatedly?” She smiled in an attempt to lift her spirits.

“Thank you.” Tori attempted to return the smile, but hers faded. “I am so old! Seventeen is the beginning of life in Europe. Here, life begins at thirteen, and by now I am an old maid!”

“You are hardly old in any land. You make me feel ancient! Thank you very much. I admit I was fourteen when I joined with Takayasu and fifteen when I bore my first child. I, too, felt old because she did not live a year, but it was life that caused me to feel so. You have lived much in your year with us. It is wisdom you feel, not years.”

“How do you manage it, Sa-sama?” Tori used the affectionate form of her companion’s name. “You always say the right things.”

“My years help. Let us find Nakata-sama. He may allow us to go to the ocean. We will tell him today is your birthday and it is in honor of that we wish to leave.”

**
*

Aderyn’s spirits rose as she and Sachi left the stables. Sachi’s words always comforted her. Would Sachi have comforting phrases to speak when Sanematsu broke her heart?

Nakata did allow them to depart the yashiki walls, but dispatched Uesugi and a troop of eight to accompany them. The women did not venture out to the ocean. They went shopping.

The morning market was busy, the vendors doing a brisk business. Aderyn stopped at each stall to eye everything and questioned Sachi about what she did not recognize. Earlier, she had discovered she had only to indicate her desire for an object and the seller would wrap it with care and present it to her without asking for money. Later, Lady Haru would receive the bill, and it would be paid out of Sanematsu’s accounts. Although it appeared Sanematsu could afford anything, she was careful about what she bought. Today, she picked up trinkets for his daughters.

“Tori-sama.”

They stood at a vendor of women’s cosmetics and hair items.

“In honor of your day, even though it passed a few moons ago, would you permit me to buy combs for your hair?”

“You do not have to do that,” she protested, but it sounded feeble even to her. She glanced over the wood, ivory and tortoise-shell combs. Some were lacquered with colorful enamel. “I was just being childish about it going unnoticed.”

“But I would like to. I am sure Lord Sanematsu would wish you to have something special for your day, as you gifted him.” Sachi picked up a set of tortoise-shells combs. “I think these would do.”

With deft hands, she swept up the sides of Aderyn’s lengthy hair and pushed combs in above her ears.

Aderyn touched them. “Thank you, Sa-sama.”

“Now,” Sachi continued as they walked away, “we shall stop for tea and honeyed cakes.”

“I agree.” Aderyn laughed. Her spirits rode high. “Maybe we could have some noodle soup first?”

“Very well.” Sachi affected the sound of a mother who had given in to the pleadings of a young child.

“You are so kind to me.” She put her arm around her friend and hugged her. “I do not know what I would do without you.”

“I am certain you would get into more mischief, but I do not see how.” Sachi giggled.

Aderyn released her, aware of the inquisitive glances of the villagers. Sachi had a way of making everything right for her, almost in the same manner Sanematsu had. At least, Sachi would still be with her when he married.

“Stop frowning, Tori-sama,” Sachi said, and handed her a wooden bowl of udon noodles. “Here. This should make you smile. Food always does.”

“Stop teasing me!” She did smile, but not because of the food.

The women found a seat on a bench at the wooden table. She took a large mouthful and slurped the hot noodles in. Her face flushed with the steam of the broth and the knowledge that Sachi could read her so well. Nishikata was more comfortable than home had ever been, and she was at ease.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

As thirty days passed, almost the same number of messages came and went between Kyoto and Nishikata. Nakata, using special carrier pigeons, informed Sanematsu of Matsumoto’s actions with the first message scroll. By return, Sanematsu established a line of communication through only Nakata. The old general made certain the young lord’s bidding was done.

Moods lightened in anticipation of Sanematsu’s arrival. For days at a time, Matsumoto disappeared on business of one kind or another. Aderyn was pleased with his departure--she did not have to avoid being alone or wary of deep shadows, could enter the stables to groom Koji without anxiety.

The stables, however, were a constant reminder of things she would rather not think about. Dai-tan’s empty stall was as gloomy as her heart. The journey that began when she last saw Sanematsu’s warhorse was coming to an end; but instead of anticipating that moment with great exhilaration, she dreaded it. It would put an end to what he had led her to hope was a beginning for them.

The household became more and more embroiled in activity. The already immaculate gardens were weeded and cleaned by meticulous gardeners. The rooms and corridors were scrubbed, oaken beams, planks and slats waxed to a glossy shine. Rice paper panels yellowed with age were replaced with fresh ones. The cooks flung out old utensils for new. Dishes were broken and new porcelain cast. The best sake and tea were stocked, new-crop rice obtained. The quantity of foodstuffs being acquired amazed her.

**
*

“Sachi-sama, please make them go away!” she implored as she stood in the middle of her room, clad in only a kosode. Two women moved around her like bees around a hive, placing garment pieces on her only to remove the clothing for alterations. “I do not need any clothes.”

“The seamstresses are busy with new wardrobes for everyone in Lord Sanematsu’s house,” Sachi explained.

“I know, but this is too much. No one has had to put up with as much folderol as I have!”

The silent seamstresses put a hitatare on her and pulled and tugged the front overlap to adjust the way it lay over Aderyn’s full bosom. She appreciated the warmth of the material as a breeze blew through the room when an apprentice seamstress entered with more silk.

“You have only yourself to blame.” Sachi nodded and directed the women without words. “You asked for hakama and hitatare.”

“But I want the ones I have!” She pointed to the garments she had removed earlier at the seamstress’s request.

“You may dress,” the chief seamstress stated. She and her fellows gathered their things and left.

Aderyn picked up the pair of hakama, black and of thick silk to keep warm, and a red hitatare. She pulled up the pants and tied the waist belt.

“Why are these patched with different patterns of silk? Some of them clash with the others.” She stroked the material of her sleeve as the women moved down the corridor to a room where tea waited.

“But the patches are all the same shade of red.” Sachi settled at the table. “We use squares of older garments to extend the life of the expensive clothing as well as for the artistic display. This hitatare is too large on you. And red is not a color for public wear--it is usually worn by an older samurai who has retired from public life.”

“I like this one because Lord Sanematsu gave it to me. It comforts me,” Aderyn admitted.

“Ah. It is not uncommon for a daimyo to gift someone with a garment from his wardrobe as a token of the personal relationship between them. Often, it is given to a soldier as a reward for distinguished military service or, as in your case, a token of favor. Perhaps he came to have a shirt of the revered color from one of his older generals.” Sachi paused to sip tea, and then said, “The new ones will be the appropriate color and will fit properly.”

“Well, I am not going to wear them! I am going to keep these.” Aderyn drew the comfortable garments around her and settled to the floor, sitting by the brazier.

“As you would have it.” Sachi sighed.

**
*

With greater freedom to roam the yashiki, but remaining under guard, Aderyn struggled to deal with emotions she could not name. Her concern and affection for Yoshihide were so strong they threatened to overwhelm her. Now she resented a woman she had neither met nor known existed. Once more she had to ask herself why she felt this way. She had no claim to him and was prohibited from the closeness she hungered for by society and culture. He could never marry her. She had to find something to get her mind off the coming wedding.

The rustle of her robes filled the hall as she stormed her way to the audience room, her drawing box tucked under her arm. Two guards accompanied her; the samurai walked with hasty steps to keep up. Inside the doorway, the one on her right stepped to bar the way.

“You cannot enter,” he stated with authority.

“Why not? This part of the yashiki is not off-limits to me.” Aderyn puffed out her chest and lifted her chin. She was not going to be denied anything if she could help it. The one thing she wanted she had no hope of obtaining.

“The servants are cleaning and waxing the flooring,” he explained.

“I will not be in their way!” She moved around him. “I want to draw the panels.”

Helpless, the guard watched her stride over the wooden flooring, managing to keep her footing on the soapy floor.

Three women clad in drab kosode, with scarves on their heads, knelt in a row working the water over the planks. One-by-one, they moved back out of Aderyn’s way then resumed their position to wipe away the traces of her careless soiling of their hard work. The samurai did not follow, stationing themselves inside the doorway to observe her from a distance.

Not caring what she had done, Aderyn went about preparing her materials to sketch. One of the guards cleared his throat, and she looked up at him.

“Why are you glaring at me?” she asked.

He nodded his head toward the woman who had moved to the part of the floor Aderyn had walked over. She was rewashing it.

“Did I do that?” Aderyn questioned. “I am sorry. I did not realize it was still wet.”

“Do not be concerned, Tori-sama,” the woman said. She dipped her rag into the bucket she towed along with her and wrung the excess water from it. “Your thoughts are with our master and the excitement of his return.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” She returned her attention to the paper and her charcoals.
Excited
was not the word she would use to describe her emotions. The idea of him riding into the courtyard accompanied by a kaga carrying the woman he had chosen to be his wife increased her fretfulness.

Later in the afternoon, she managed to be as intrusive in the garden as she had been the audience chamber. A gardener had spent most of the early afternoon weeding and removing debris from an area covered with fine sand and small pebbles that had a large boulder set in the middle. When she arrived, she tromped without thought through where he had meticulously raked a design. Her guards, keeping as far away from the gardener’s work as they could, spoke apologies for the barbarian’s disruption.

“What are you saying?” She turned back to them. “Why are you apologizing for me?”

“Elder gardener…” The samurai used the man’s title as a name. “…has worked very hard to prepare the gardens for Lord Sanematsu’s arrival, and you have inadvertently destroyed the harmony of it.”

Aderyn looked back to where the gardener had started again. Her footprints disrupted the neat lines drawn through the sand.

“I did not see the design.” She covered her mouth with her hands in astonishment. The gardener must feel as she would if someone messed up her drawings. “It was so beautiful. I am so sorry.”

“It could not be helped,” the old man said and continued with his work.

Aderyn departed with her guards, going back to her rooms. Everyone was so happy with the idea of Sanematsu’s returning. Why could she not feel just as euphoric?

When she had first heard the news, her spirits soared on wings like the seabirds over the cliffs--and plummeted with the mention of a marriage. She was sure it was Yoshihide’s. The council was determined he produce an heir and to that end needed a wife. And it would not be her.

The thought of being with Yoshihide in that intimately special way sent tingles through her body, but knowing it could never happen crushed her heart.

She did not want to think about it.

She moved on, oblivious to her path of destruction. The damage she did was caused not out of disregard or rudeness. She simply did not notice where others went about their business preparing for Sanematsu’s arrival. Even her drawings were dark and gloomy.

**
*

As the new moon waxed and waned, the yashiki came to a standstill. Nishikata-jyo awaited the return of its master with his secret plans.

“It is too damned quiet!” Aderyn shouted in Portuguese at the guard standing in the hallway outside her room. When he ignored her, she childishly made a face at him. He continued to disregard her.

“Humph!” She stomped into the room, sorry she did not wear heavy shoes instead of only the thick tabi. They would have made a much more satisfying noise on the hard wooden floors.

A shoji on the far side of the room faced the courtyard and was open to provide fresh air and give her a full view of the gardens below. The room was cool, a charcoal brazier lit in the middle. Winter was in full force, and rains came almost daily. Today was one of the few mornings when she had not wakened to the sound of it, although threatening clouds hung over the yashiki.

Rain kept the gardeners inside for days fretting over the trash blown in from the city and coast. They were busy this morning tidying up the courtyard in their usual thorough manner. She envied them their work.

“You could hear a pin drop. They act as if Sanematsu Yoshihide were god!”

Speaking Nihonese had become second nature to her, but she continued her diatribe in Portuguese. It was the only language suitable for venting her frustration.

“Tori-sama!” Uesugi ran down the corridor. His swords clanked, and the silk of his osode flapped under a heavy padded coat. “Tori-sama! Lord Sanematsu nears!” the out-of-breath samurai announced.

“So what?” Aderyn glanced out into the courtyard. Samurai were opening the gate, but she could not see Sanematsu.

“So…come. We must go meet him,” Uesugi urged. “You have been so eager for Lord Sanematsu to return. Do you not wish to be there?”

“Let him come to me!” she retorted. Her cheeks burned and her chest hurt. “Besides, I do not see him.”

“The lookout at the northwest wall saw his party approaching and sent word so all would be ready.” Uesugi stepped to her and took her arm. “Come. We must go.”

She yanked free.

“He can come up here! I will not go fawning all over them like a fool!”

“Them?”

“Sanematsu-sama and his bride-to-be.”

“It seems she is not with him,” he whispered. “Lady Tori, our liege lord returns, and as his subjects, it is our duty to receive him.”

“Then, by all means, go see Lord Sanematsu Yoshihide of the clan Minamoto, Lord of the Satsuma Province of Kyushu.” She spoke words she did not understand, but had heard Sanematsu addressed by. “I will be here!”

She pointed to the floor and stomped her foot. Again she regretted the tabi socks.

**
*

Uesugi was torn. He had to greet Sanematsu--it was his duty--but he should stay with Tori, as she was also a duty, one specifically given to him by Sanematsu. He looked toward the road beyond the gate. He could see banners and flags carried by Sanematsu’s horsemen and ashigaru. Lord Sanematsu neared at a furious pace. He did not have time to find Sachi to enlist her aid with the stubborn barbarian.

“I will leave the guards to watch over you.” He turned to leave.

“Take them with you!” Aderyn slammed the shoji to the courtyard closed.

“My lady?” Uesugi sweated under his heavy haori, both because of the coat and his dilemma.

“Take them with you.” She waved a hand to indicate the men at the doorway. “I will follow you in my own time. Go!”

The scream rattled the shoji.

The samurai fled but left a sentry at her outer door in defiance of her wishes.

**
*