The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (44 page)

BOOK: The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai
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‘Thank you and the Goddess of Mercy for your sensitive palate,’ I said, as I wiped Misuki’s face. ‘Poison is probably why the food was highly spiced,’ I reasoned, just loud enough for her to hear.

‘We must kill the snakes among the geese before all the eggs are gone,’ Misuki murmured.

We discussed a plan. I did not confide in Emi, but sent her on an errand. I did not confide in Michimori either, because his fury might have spoiled my plan. Misuki scurried to tell Tokikazu, almost always on guard near me.

When Emi returned, she held Number Two Serving Girl’s brown and white cat. The two serving girls had remained prone. Misuki and I stood in front of them. Next to Misuki was the tray with the beautiful lacquered dishes holding the poisoned food. I gave the cat to Misuki and sent Emi away again.

‘Thank you, Misuki,’ I said, controlling my anger at seeing the serving girls on the floor. ‘Now we can begin our festivities in earnest.’ I motioned for the girls to rise.

Misuki held and stroked Number Two’s cat. Number One cried now, the front of her tunic speckled. Number Two’s face looked as though someone had pulled the skin back tightly over her skull so that her eyeballs popped out like a frog’s.

I was careful to speak the opposite of my feelings, softly and slowly. ‘We see no reason to blame the food on either of you. All you did was bring it. There are merely too many flavours for us to eat,’ I lied. ‘We wish to know who spiced it to an unacceptable level. Who was the cook? Who gave this food to you?’

I stared directly at each serving girl, and Number One suddenly blurted out all: which guard, which cook. She even reported which priest was in the cooking areas to check the special foods for the ceremonies.

Looking into Number Two’s eyes I said, ‘Now we understand. Misuki, give the cat to Number One Serving Girl.’ Next I directed Number One, ‘Hold this cat. Do not let it go.’

With the cat held down, it was Misuki who ordered Number Two Serving Girl: ‘Feed the food to your cat.’

For a few moments, Number Two’s eyes flashed hatred. She plucked her cat from Number One’s arms and ran. I knew she would not stand for harm to come to her beloved animal. Neither had I any wish to harm an innocent cat. We merely wanted her to confess, which she did by running. Tokikazu captured her as she left. I hoped her torture would lead to information that validated Number One Serving Girl’s.

After sending for Obāsan and the Woman-in-Charge-of-Rooms, I asked Number One to play the
biwa
for us while we dressed. At least I would know where and what she was doing. She played, not well. I said nothing about the unusually poor music.

When Obāsan arrived, I took her aside. ‘If Number Two Serving Girl confesses . . . and . . .’ I whispered the name of the priest and the cook in her ear. ‘Perhaps you know someone who could attend to those two. I would be particularly interested to know with whom they have conversed.’

Obāsan pressed her wrinkled lips together tightly. Then she said, ‘Ryo, my nephew. He works with that cook. Perhaps I shall visit him today.’

‘Number One Serving Girl must remain closely supervised. She must never be alone. She must be with you, me or Misuki on every task until we can be rid of her.’

‘My lady Kozaishō, I will search and find the best replacements for both girls. It may take a little time, but in the meantime I shall send you mine.’

‘Yours?’

‘My personal servants. It is better to be rid of Number One Serving Girl immediately. I will see to all.’

‘Yes . . . good. Thank you, Grandmother.’ As we were alone, I kissed her crinkled face.

After making further arrangements with Obāsan, Misuki and I had to leave for the General Confession Ceremonies. They took place in the palace enclosures and lasted for three consecutive nights. Emi, Misuki and I travelled in an ox cart. As usual, Obāsan’s wisdom had impressed me, and I shared it with Misuki.

‘I know we cannot trust the priests,’ Misuki confided quietly. I told her Obāsan was hunting for new serving girls.

‘I do not wish to see Number One’s head on a spike,’ I admitted. ‘This was not a wrongdoing on her own. However, I have requested that Number Two Serving Girl is not allowed to share her failed mission with others.’

Misuki put her hand on mine. ‘You are trying to remember “No Melon”. “One who begrudges a single slice, will lose all!”’

‘Number Two Serving Girl could not have been acting on her own.’

‘She might have allowed the poisoning of her cat. She did not. Perhaps there is some kindness in her heart despite her terrible deed.’ Her mouth quivered with terror. ‘Kozaishō, Rokuhara contains worse people than the
s
ō
hei
you met coming here.’

‘Yes, for then we could see the enemy. Here they are invisible or identical or both. I have not yet found Three Eyes.’

I told Misuki of my intention to locate and take vengeance on the poisoner, and she agreed to assist me.

Misuki’s eyes filled with a combination of the worries and distress I felt myself.

‘It is more dangerous than at Hitomi’s. We must remain alert always, as with an unknown first-time client,’ I said.

Misuki squeezed my arm in agreement. ‘Should we speak to Lord Michimori about this?’

‘No. I need to seek my revenge in my own way. Michimori is too busy to be bothered with such trifles.’

‘Trifles?’ Her brows and mouth formed her deepest frown.

‘I shall consult with Tokikazu and Akio. I rely on their wisdom.’

‘Lord Michimori will not think this such a small thing. You risk his wrath.’

‘I will risk it.’

The ceremonies or their holiday screens did not hold my concentration. I do not know if Misuki enjoyed them. Although Emi delighted in the festivities, she whimpered at the Horrors of Hell painted on the screens.

I did my best to think of wrongs I had done during this last year. Happily, killing an innocent cat and a not-so-innocent girl were not among them. The next two nights of General Confession were easier, but not for Emi, who had nightmares. This was an inauspicious way in which to begin the new year.

I resolved to fight my own battles and find the true poisoner myself.

V. Samurai Training

Ironically, the safest place was field training, because it was open and because many different factions were represented there. No serious mischief could be done because there were witnesses. I felt more secure there than I did in my own quarters.

There was no break from study with my warrior training. Sun Tsu’s
Art of War
particularly interested Michimori. From ‘The Army and Defence’ in the Taihō Codes we memorised how many mounted men and foot soldiers there were in a division, how many in a regiment and in a battalion. While we both thought the Taihō Code was astoundingly dull, Sun Tsu was more difficult, since it was in Chinese. Misuki found it dreary; I thought it useful.

The practice exercises became complicated. Misuki did well in hand-to-hand techniques, but she found archery hard. Her tutor continued to remind her to ‘catch the wind with her hands’, but she never grasped this. When I had been a young girl it had proved difficult for me as well. The
naginata
remained unwieldy, due to my height, although I attempted it as often as I could tolerate the sniggers of those watching.

One day Akio came to the field with an odd-looking weapon. ‘It is a
shobuzukuri naginata
. Tokikazu suggested it because of the shorter handle and longer blades. See,’ he demonstrated, ‘it makes the slashing strokes smoother.’

I took time to become familiar with it, and then practised on straw men. The quick stroke upwards towards an unprotected groin would disable anyone.

‘Monks on horseback stand in the stirrups and whirl
naginata
around them,’ Tokikazu told me later.

‘Even with the
shobuzukuri naginata
, that would be a wide span.’ I eyed the distance between me and him. ‘The defence?’

He guffawed. ‘Stay far away and shoot him or his horse.’

On horseback, I hit the square-shaped targets and the grass hats swinging on posts. Dogs were also used as targets but I took care not to hit their faces with special padded arrows. I hit the strips of paper hanging from a stick as often as anyone, except Tokikazu, Akio, Sadakokai and Mokuhasa. They were the best, after Michimori.

Misuki did not care for horses. She worked elsewhere. Sadakokai named her ‘Lumbering Badger’, which stuck. Misuki disliked his gentle mockery, but her love for me compelled her to continue.

We both revelled in the stories Tokikazu narrated as we performed these exercises. I loved to hear his voice while I watched his muscles tighten. Once he told of how the Taira and Minamoto had become bitter enemies:

Taira no Masakado, Governor of Kuanto Province, was studying in Heian-kyō. He was offended by someone in court and started a revolt, but others of the Taira Clan stopped it. Problems between the clans began when Masakado was pardoned, not punished. The Minamoto never agreed to the pardon, and from that time the two clans were bitter enemies.

In other stories he told us of the great heroes of the Hōgen and Heiji Disturbances, primarily daring deeds of Michimori’s uncle, Kiyomori, who had put severed heads on spikes. I enjoyed imagining that.

Michimori often used
The Art of War
when we discussed strategies at night. Mokuhasa and Sadakokai spoke of the refinement of Michimori’s swordlessness. A samurai with swordlessness proved his prowess by fighting so rapidly and soundlessly, it was as if he wielded no sword at all.

BOOK 14

I. Temples

A few Taira commanders returned to Rokuhara, boasting of their latest victory over the Minamoto. Unfortunately the Minamoto had not retreated. Instead they scattered, like pheasants, making ensuing battles impossible.

In the corridors, on the
watadono
, in the gardens and on the practice field, arguments flew about whether or not there would be war. Misuki said she had discovered knowledge of the probable war. She had returned from one of her long rides with Sadakokai. ‘I saw them!’

‘Saw whom?’

‘The birds. Swarms of bramblings,
atori
. Sadakokai saw them too.’

‘Swarms?’

‘Yes. Hundreds and hundreds. They attacked each other among the branches for twigs to make nests. You know what they say?’

She did not wait for my answer.

‘When swarms of brambling begin their life-and-death struggle for twigs to roost, the noise, the competition and the ferocity are so great that to witness such an event presages war.’

‘Truly?’ Misuki nodded her head with great solemnity. ‘So it is recorded through history.’

I could hardly keep the corners of my mouth from lifting. Then I recalled her premonitions before Michimori rescued me from Hitomi.

‘Oh Kozaishō, much more than war. It is
mapp
ō
. Our world is so defiled, there is almost no redemption. The bramblings prove it. We must concentrate on the thirty-two physical signs of Buddhahood. Invoke the name of Amida Buddha and meditate on his deathbed scene. Do this tonight and every morning. Promise!’

Despite this talk, I had my own war, and I swore to follow through on the promise to myself – to find and remove the poisoner.

BOOK: The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai
2.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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