The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (30 page)

‘Thank me, my lord?’

‘The lieutenant, several of my lieutenants have . . . improved themselves.’

I knew of what he spoke, but said nothing.

‘I asked them, and they each told me of your stories. Finally I realised where their new strengths, their new influence had come from.’ He listed their names.

‘Yes, honourable lord, they did each call upon me.’

‘Many times, by their recollection.’ He smiled, stroking my forehead.

Blushing, surprised at myself, I agreed. It was genuine blushing, not false flirting.

He continued, ‘These men have become better husbands. One can now mount his horse easily. Their wives are now content, and there are no tales of betrayal, causing problems in the clan. Again I thank you.’ He played with my hair, lifting it to the light, using his fingers like a comb.

‘You do me much honour, Lord Echizen Governor Taira no Michimori.’

‘I hope you will honour me as well. Would such a path, such a partnership, be favourable to you?’

I did not understand his statement, or what he meant by ‘path’, but I motioned in agreement. I was afraid a question would dart out like a flying insect if I dared open my mouth. He enfolded me briefly, then prepared to leave. However, before he and his soldiers departed, he sent a note, folded like a flower, with this poem:

My complete spirit

Has been stolen from me

Snatched and soaked into

Every stitch and thread

Of the kimono you wear

Although I had difficulty in drawing words, I recognised beautiful writing when I saw it. Misuki and I admired the words and the way they were written. The paper itself was an elegant cyan and transferred his scent. Reading the poem again, I dared not dream what I thought I understood. Misuki and I discussed it for the rest of that night and early into the next morning, too exhilarated to sleep.

V. Purchases

That morning Hitomi sent a girl quite early. I was annoyed that she could disturb me so soon. I sighed, still tired, but dressed myself and went to her apartments. I shivered, thinking of her punishments, as I walked in the morning damp. Then I smiled inwardly, remembering the shivering when Hitomi had come into the bathhouse to tell me of the great Taira no Michimori. Perhaps my smile was more for Michimori than Hitomi.

I wondered what new petty thing had upset Hitomi. Reviewing the events of the night before, I could think of nothing I had done wrong except that one hem.

But Hitomi rarely, if ever, awakened so early. Something else had gone wrong. And, with Hitomi, it was never pleasant. I thought through the list of possible misdemeanours. My heart beat faster, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, yet I maintained my decorum. My steps did not falter. There was so much gossip among the Women-for-Play. I did my utmost to avoid anyone learning my business from my movements or face.

During my perfunctory obeisances to Hitomi in Main House, I saw that something was indeed amiss. She lay sprawled across the cushions, her face knotted into a snarl. She always pressed her lips tight when administering penalties. There were to be none. I breathed again. The throbbing in my chest slowed to a light thud.

Rubbing her eyes, Hitomi pretended to stifle a yawn. ‘There has been a request.’ Her voice was tense, but her body appeared not to be. I wondered why. This had to be bad.

Keeping my eyes blank, I gazed at the floor. She would speak when she was ready. Hitomi valued power and control. I waited. But I had seen her eyes.

‘Echizen Governor Taira no Michimori is preparing to leave. He has decided to purchase you.’ Here she scowled, lowering her face to her cat. ‘He has ruined me, my sweet one, just ruined me.’

My face tingled. My fingers trembled. Gongs struck throughout my body to a rhythm I had never felt before. To go. To leave the Village of Outcasts. Purchased by someone of third rank. Giddy, like being lifted high above the clouds.

Hitomi elevated her eyes to my level with an unambiguous glower. ‘You are leaving with his troops at the Hour of the Sheep.’ From almost closed eyes she hurled her bitterness. ‘Remember well what I have taught you. Remember whence you came.’ Then she faced her cat and stroked it again.

Rage blasted through my stomach and up into my chest. It flashed in my face as I glared at her. I would remember what I had taught myself. What had she taught me but indignity and regret? Catching myself, I dropped my eyes and bowed low. Thankfully, Hitomi was staring at her cat, and I missed a farewell thrashing.

Evidently Governor Michimori had offered her a fair price, but not what she wanted. As governor, he could simply have taken me.

‘Thank you, Madam Hitomi, for all your teaching and wisdom. This humble serving girl will try her best to do you honour,’ I lied.

She smiled feebly for an instant, then stopped.

‘Pack your things and be ready to leave.’

‘Yes, Madam Hitomi.’ I was leaving. I was going.

‘Oh, yes, Kozaishō,’ she added, making a poor attempt to sound nonchalant. ‘You may take Misuki and Emi. The governor has bought them as well.’

I managed to stand on precarious legs. ‘Thank you, Madam Hitomi. As you wish.’ I bowed. My body felt like leaves dumped into boiling broth. I did not run to my hut. I dared not. My body shook inside, not to be depended upon, but my mind sprinted ahead, already there.

What could this mean? Why would he buy me . . .
and
my girls?

Misuki still slept. I tugged at her sleeve until she awoke. She had rested only a little longer than I. ‘My dream has come true! Governor Michimori has acquired us – you, Emi and me! We are to pack and leave today! At the Hour of the Sheep!’

Misuki put a hand on each side of my face. Her eyes opened wide and spilled. Mine did also, and we hugged. We were leaving, escaping.

Michimori had appeared kind. Would he allow me my secret desire?

Misuki interrupted my reverie. ‘Tell me! How angry was Hitomi?’

I told her all.

She kept saying, ‘Are we leaving? Are we really going?’

At each question I nodded. We stared at each other, touching each other in disbelief. We hurried to Emi’s hut to tell her.

‘What will happen to all the violent men?’ I whispered.

‘I do not know.’

‘I will continue to pray for Tashiko. Perhaps her spirit will intervene.’

Misuki did not respond. I wondered if I should tell her about my secret dream.

‘Do you think we will travel near my family? Or yours?’ she asked, her eyes bright.

My throat thickened. The one question I had wanted to ask. I moved my head to show I did not know. No words would come. Hearing my secret wish spoken aloud paralysed my tongue.

Our shoulders pressed together, we went to find Emi.

BOOK 9

I. Echizen Governor Taira No Michimori

I scarcely remember going to Lord Michimori’s tent and waiting with one of his guards until I was escorted within. Papers lay everywhere inside the worn yet meticulously clean tent. The Echizen governor’s face bore a glazed look. His armour awaited him on its stand, erect like a warrior ghost, battle-ready. Incense was burning, and I glanced at it.

‘I use it to perfume my helmet.’ Michimori grinned. ‘If I lose my head, I do not wish to offend an honourable opponent.’ His servant helped him with his armour, and he continued, ‘I am so pleased the Gods spoke of the need of Divergent Directions for yesterday and today.’

He flashed a most appealing smile – a smile I remembered from our first day and night together. ‘But now my spies . . . my
messengers
,’ he emphasised the word with a shrug, ‘tell me there is an emergency. I must journey towards the capital immediately.’ He looked directly into my eyes and I, after his prompting the day before, returned his soft gaze.

‘I have heard of your accomplishments on the horse as well as the practice field.’ He clasped my hands in his. ‘If I provide you with a suitable animal, will you accompany me?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I said, thinking of nothing except what I had heard from Madam Hitomi: I belonged to Michimori and must do as he wished. I was to leave the Village of Outcasts.

‘Will you take the Pledge of Loyalty to me?’

What was this? He owned me
and
he requested loyalty? It would be unnatural for me to be disloyal. Yet his eyes were so steady. As Tashiko had said would happen, a man had satisfied me. Tashiko. How I still missed her. How I would miss Akio. How could I leave him – my mentor, my teacher, my protector?

‘Honourable lord . . .’ I paused.

His eyes encouraged me.

‘Please forgive my boldness. Aside from your generosity in purchasing my servants, there is one more who has protected and taught me since I was eight years old. His name is Akio.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Here, my honourable lord.’

‘Here?’

‘Here, at the Village of Outcasts. He had to move his family from Chiba no Tashiyori’s
sh
ō
en
because of me.’

‘Extraordinary.’ He tapped his right foot slowly and gently.

I had no idea what this gesture meant, so I continued: ‘You are known for your fairness and generosity. I dare to ask that he and his family go with you.’ I prostrated myself on the ground, my nose in the dirt, wondering if I was about to lose my head. Akio had risked so much, his family and his life, to teach me. I prayed to the Amida Buddha and waited.

A hand patted the top of my head and lingered on my hair. Amida, Amida. I prayed to Tashiko’s spirit as well.

‘Yes, Kozaishō. Tokikazu will arrange it, if it is vital to you. You will have to meet with Akio at another time, however.’

At another time? When would that be? I dared not ask more. I took the Pledge of Loyalty:

I pledge loyalty

With my body and my life

To honour you, your clan,

Until sale or death separates

Me from my duty to you.

He turned away, picked up an object with both hands, and returned with the pieces of an iron collar. ‘This is for you, for the journey. You have only a face protector.’

I bowed and found myself quivering as our fingers touched across the cool metal.

He turned away again, and when he turned back his eyes beamed, like the sun after rain. Across his hands lay a magnificent helmet. The construction, impeccable; the shape, perfect in its roundness. Its seams were edged with gold.

‘A master in Heian-Kyō made this.’ He placed it in my hands. I could only bow. ‘Let your serving girls arrange your belongings, and let them ride in one of the ox carts. They, and all but the weapons you need, will follow us with our supplies.’

He answered my unasked question by telling me that reliable guards would accompany my servants and possessions. His special samurai, Captain Kunda Takiguchi no Tokikazu, would lead my personal guards. I bowed.

I recollected the captain’s name, but could not match it with a face.

After scurrying to my hut, I directed Misuki to arrange all our belongings in as many
furoshiki
as were required and ready them carefully. I told her what to take, what not to take, and what to sew into the hems of garments. I had learned to do this for safety’s sake from a Lotus Sutra story. ‘After they have sewn all the papers, documents and my coins into the seams or hems of our garments, place them carefully in each
furoshiki
. Do not fold or tie them until Madam Hitomi has seen and approved.’