Read The Samurai's Garden Online
Authors: Patricia Kiyono
The Samurai's Garden (10 page)
****
Hanako didn't notice the silent message Hiro sent to Ginjiro, or the answering nod. Ginjiro would spread the news of the troublemakers to neighboring farms.
Before leaving on his errand, Ginjiro watched his friend and Hanako stroll toward the stream. How fortunate Hiro would be if Hanako agreed to become his wife. Ginjiro had always thought he would marry and raise a few fine sons, but having passed his fortieth year, he doubted he could find someone to marry.
The last few years had been difficult for Ginjiro. When the Meiji government had abolished the samurai class, he had been left at a loss. He had no family to return to, and his very way of life no longer existed. He had never wanted to be anything other than a samurai, and though his size and skill had not allowed him to rise above the lowest levels of the class, he had reveled in the honor of serving his
daimyo
.
But now he was on his own. His
daimyo
had not been able to adjust to the "new ways" and was unable to retain him in any capacity, so he had spent the past five years looking for work. He had heard rumors about fighting opportunities in the north and had traveled a long way, but had been rejected because of his age and size. It had been the final straw. If Hiro had not found him in the woods, he would have ended his life.
Now, things were starting to look better. Thanks to Hiro and Hanako, he had a purpose and dreamed of owning his own land. And now his dreams included someone who could make his life complete. He sighed, thinking of Hanako's beautiful neighbor. She was the embodiment of grace and serenity. How wonderful it would be to have the right to protect her, to care for her.
But she was beyond his reach.
Ginjiro scolded himself for daydreaming, reminding himself of his errand. He had a job to do, and useless yearnings would do him no good.
****
The offending missive hit the flames, spraying sparks so high they nearly burned him. Hideyori paced, cursing the sender.
How dare Akamatsu rescind his support? How in the world will I finance this military takeover if I don't have sponsors?
He thought he had talked Togashi and Akamatsu into joining his coalition. It was only a matter of time before the emperor was defeated and the country could return to its former glory.
It was true his army hadn't increased much in size, but he hadn't been able to find enough soldiers to form a decent army. Masao Akira was a good soldier, but he lacked proper respect for his superiors. He argued and spoke up too much. But at least he kept the rest of the troops in line.
If only he been able to keep his army from the old days. There had been some good warriors. There was one who had really stood out. What was his name? Tanaka. Hiromasa Tanaka. Strong and loyal, he was a true warrior. But he'd had that bothersome streak of honor. He'd left after that mess with his friend, but where had he gone?
If I could find Tanaka-san, perhaps he could be persuaded to join my "New Army
.
"
Hopefully, the man hadn't joined the emperor's forces. Yes, Tanaka-san would definitely whip this rag-tag group into shape.
The confident stride of approaching footsteps broke him out of his reverie. Masao strode into the tent without asking permission and spoke without bowing. Hideyori's eyes narrowed at such rudeness.
"We are out of food. We need money so we can go into the village and buy supplies."
"That will have to wait. Our funds haven't arrived. Go to the farms and get food."
"The farmers have next to nothing. How can they share with us? We took practically everything they had last time we came through. You promised us our situation was temporary. When are we going to be paid?"
"How dare you speak to me this way? I could have you killed for your insolence!"
Masao didn't flinch. "Who would you get to do the killing? I outrank them. They would answer to me." He leaned closer. "They're certainly not afraid of you."
"As soon as the money arrives, you will get your share."
Togashi had been weak and sided with the Emperor. And now Akamatsu had abandoned him.
Bah, I can do this without them.
There were others. Other benefactors with more men, more money. He just needed to convince them.
"The money is coming. In the meantime, we will need to go to the north. I have heard there are more resources, more farmlands. We will find food there. For now, send the men into the woods to hunt."
His second in command cast a doubting frown, but he bowed and left.
Hideyori's feet traced a path back and forth in front of the fire. It was time to make more plans.
Â
Â
The sounds of clanging metal and grunting men distracted Hanako as she tended her livestock, settling them for the night. Hiro and Ginjiro led a nightly training session in the wide meadow separating her farm from the Nakamura property. Torches mounted on stakes illuminated the men as they worked through their exercises. The widow's sons, along with twenty other villagers, listened intently as Hiro gave his instructions.
"Always hold your blade toward the opponent. Don't leave yourself vulnerable to his sword," he directed.
It had been three weeks since the widow's visit. As promised, her sons had approached Hiro with their request, and he had readily agreed. Each night for the last two weeks, a ragtag group of men, some with ancient swords handed down for generations, some with nothing more than their farm tools, had appeared in the field for drill and instruction. At first it had seemed an impossible task. These were peaceful farmers and simple merchants. How could they ever be taught to fight against trained warriors?
Rumors of the
ronin's
activities fueled the men's motivation. The renegade band was reported to have assaulted a town not more than ten days south of here. Time was of the essence. Hiro instructed the men to take precautions to safeguard their homes and families as well. An alarm system was set up. Each family was given a supply of flares with instructions to set them off if and when they spotted the intruders. Sato-san had supplied the flares, greatly raising him in the villagers' esteem.
When the training first began, several wives appeared with their husbands. Some actually participated in the training exercises themselves, but most were content to watch from the sidelines, some holding their infants and toddlers. Gradually, all but a few stopped coming along, leaving the men to learn the fighting while they tended to their homes.
Hanako knew she should participate more readily in the exercises. After all, this was her property they were defending. Last fall she'd been helpless to stop them. The image of her husband cowering under the furniture still left a knot in her stomach. Would she be as ineffective if put to the test again?
She decided to listen carefully to the instruction, and practice alone in the privacy of the woods, rather than in front of the other villagers. Perhaps later she could join the others.
Seeing that all the animals were settled for the evening, she picked up the handle to an old hoe, and holding it out in front of her, tried to mimic the movements the group performed with Hiro. Carefully, she sliced a diagonal arc in front of herself. The motion didn't seem quite like the technique Hiro had demonstrated, so she tried again, raising the hoe above her head and bringing it down and across her body with her hands ending near her left knee. She prepared to try the motion again, but gasped when her back connected with a solid wall of muscle. A deep, melodic voice rumbled from the wall at a point above her head.
"Don't bring your weapon down so far. Remember, this leaves your body open to the opponent's attack."
Hanako's heart stopped at the unexpected contact. Before she could react, two strong arms came around her. Hiro's right hand enveloped both of hers as they gripped the hoe, and the other came to rest on her left side, holding her close to him. Without thinking, she leaned back against his massive chest. Time stood still as she sank into his warmth.
She barely registered his words as he gently guided her through the drill, keeping the weapon in front of her as it sliced through the air. Using a sturdy willow as an imaginary foe, he positioned her so that her right arm extended toward the tree and the right side of her body faced it.
"Turn your body away from your opponent. This gives him a smaller target and protects your torso from his sword." Her arms and legs continued the drill, but her senses were aware only of her body pressing against his. Her back warmed from his solid presence, and her side tingled where his hand pressed gently to guide her. What would it be like to have those strong hands caressing her, guiding her through a different dance, another ritual?
She let herself dream as his arms and body cradled her. They went through the motions, his right hand and arm directing the improvised weapon, his left hand moving her body. It was amazing how their bodies fit together, how their limbs moved in perfect synchronization. His hands switched as he moved the improvised weapon to her other hand and turned her body so her left side faced the imaginary opponent. Hanako knew the movements had been designed for fighting, but the two of them were engaged in a much different, though equally intense, reality.
All too soon, the fantasy ended. The muscular arms left her sides, and her heart returned to earth with a crash. Hiro backed away, taking the comforting warmth with him.
"Are you all right?" he asked, peering at her curiously. "You look pale. Perhaps you have been working too hard. I should end the training sessions earlier so that I can help youâ"
"No." Hanako shook her head, her cheeks burning. The physical contact with him had affected her so strongly that he had noticed.
"You and Ginjiro are helping me more than enough. I am simply winded from the drill. I really should practice more, especially since the
ronin
are getting closer." Realizing she was babbling, she waved her hand toward the group in the clearing. "And the help you are giving the village is so greatly appreciated."
Hiro shrugged off her words of praise. "I do not expect thanks from you or the others. It is the least I can do. But you are my main concern. You looked so tired when I first came to the farm. And now you are finally starting to get enough rest and food. I do not wish to see you so exhausted again."
The intensity in Hiro's brown eyes mesmerized her. She felt them pulling her in.
Should I bind myself to him? Can we truly build a good life together? Or would he tire of me some day and wish to return to his old life?
****
Hiro walked back to his eager pupils, his mind whirling from his encounter with Hanako. Touching her, holding her in his arms, he had felt at peace and yet so alive. Her compact body had felt right in his arms. He'd struggled to keep his mind on the sword drill and not give in to the temptation to crush her in an embrace. It would not do to give in to such a whim, especially with people there who could see them. His strong moral code had never been this sorely tested, not even with the most stunning courtesan.
Perhaps Hanako would soon agree to be his wife. He would have no trouble remaining faithful to her, and he could provide her with luxuries she had never had. She would provide him with strong sons, and together they would raise them to be stewards of the earth. They would be honest, intelligent men, judged by their competence and not by the size of their inheritance, or the strength of their warlord.
He stopped in mid-step. Sons? The vision had played briefly in his mind before, but this time it was so clear. A family. Strong sons and daughters. Hanako was the key to that dream. She must agree to be his wife before the visions would become reality. He needed to convince her to share the dream with him.
For now, he had a job to do. If the villagers could not defend themselves against the
ronin
, there would be no land on which to raise his family. He entered the clearing from behind the group, observing their progress.
Ginjiro had continued the drill, encouraging the ragtag army of villagers while correcting their errors. Hiro was impressed at the ease with which his friend had integrated himself into the community. His genial personality had earned him several friends among the farming community, and when he wasn't needed on Hanako's small plot, he had gone to work on other farms in the area.
Standing at the edge of the clearing, he watched his friend bark instructions. As a samurai, Ginjiro had never been in a position of leadership. His size and easy-going temperament had denied him the promotions his more fierce counterparts had earned. But here, in this small, tight-knit community, he was well-liked, and the men were responsive to his instructions. With each command, he seemed to gain more confidence.
There was no sound, but Hiro became aware of a presence at his side. Drawing on his own training and instinct, his hand quickly went to his sword as he faced the potential intruder. The sword dropped back into its scabbard as he realized the person approaching him was Shinobu Nakamura, one of the widow's sons. The young man paused, eyes wide with fear as he realized his approach had been viewed as a potential threat. When Hiro took his hand away from the sword's hilt, he spoke, though he kept a respectful distance between them.
"Tanaka-san, I wish to speak with you a moment," he began, bowing low. As a former member of the samurai class, Hiro was given the highest respect by even the local village officials.
Hiro bowed in return. "What is it, Nakamura-san?"
One of our men reported the
ronin
have now split into two factions. Part of the group is going to Tokyo, looking for work with the Imperial Guard. A smaller group is staying in the area. It seems the threat of this group is not as great as before."
Hiro considered this development. "How large is the group that stayed?"
"There are about ten men. They have been observed in village taverns each night, loudly bragging about their exploits in other towns. They prey upon travelers. It is said their finances are getting low, and they are waiting for the arrival of a former
daimyo
who will retain them for his cause."
"A
daimyo
is traveling to recruit men? But they no longer need independent armies. Who is he?"
"I don't know. But his delayed arrival is causing the
ronin
to make trouble in the villages."
"Ten angry warriors can do a great deal of damage. We have about thirty men here, but they are spread out, and it would take valuable time to gather us all together. We must continue our training and be on alert."
The younger man smiled. "We were all hoping you would say that, Tanaka-san. We know we are not as efficient as an entire army of samurai warriors, but feel better able to protect ourselves with your training. We all sleep better at night now that we have a plan. We have taught our wives and children how to sound the alarm if needed. Thanks to you, we may have something to leave to our sons." He bowed low again as he backed away then turned around to take his place in the fighting drill.
Hiro thought about Nakamura-san's words long after the drill was over and the men had left for their homes. He had spent most of his adult life fighting for another man's land, for someone else's home. He had fought for financial gain, as well as honor. Generations of his family had been groomed for this life. He had known of no other course.
But these men were fighting for their own homes. Their technique wasn't as polished as the soldiers Hiro had fought with, but they were more motivated, because they had more at stake. They were going against their peaceful natures to protect what was theirs. Hiro admired their tenacity. He, too, was trying to put aside generations of family tradition and take on another way of life. These people were now his people. Their cause was now his. He did not intend to let them lose.
