The Last Concubine (24 page)

‘And now . . .’

‘He’s in prison.’ Sachi felt a jolt of horror. ‘His lordship chose to side with the south. My cousin’s been condemned to death. I’ve been trying to get him out. Every day I check the prison gates. As far as I know there’s still a chance.’

‘It was because of us,’ said Sachi, wide-eyed with horror, ‘because of us you had to travel slowly and couldn’t get here in time.’

He shook his head.

‘It would have been too late anyway,’ he muttered. ‘His lordship has given the southerners free rein. There’s been a purge. Southern
ronin
have been cutting down anyone they suspect of supporting the north. A lot of people have been working out old grudges too. Many have been imprisoned or killed; whole families have been wiped out and their names struck off the register. So far my family have been left alone, but no one knows when the time will come.’

He paused as if to collect his thoughts.

‘As ladies of His Majesty’s court, you are in grave danger here. It was us that brought you and it’s our responsibility to keep you safe. On no account go outside the house. We’ll leave as soon as we can.’

Caught up in his words, Sachi stared at the only part of Shinzaemon she could see – his eyes. One burly hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Even here he was ready for anything. There was
a dusting of snow on the back of his mantle. Behind him the garden glowed, white and eerie. The branches of the trees and the tall bamboos swayed and bent under the weight of snow.

There was a long silence.

‘I know nothing of you,’ he said. ‘It is not my place to enquire. I know only that you are a lady of the shogun’s household. When we were privileged to be of assistance to you, you were travelling in the imperial palanquin. As loyal servants of His Majesty it is our duty to protect you as best we can.’

Sachi nodded. She felt as if she were in a trance.

‘Once we leave here our fate is in our own hands,’ she said, remembering who and what she was. ‘You are under no obligation to help us. But we would appreciate it if you could advise us as to conditions on the road.’

‘I can’t let you leave alone,’ he said. ‘It’s too dangerous. We will escort you wherever you wish to go.’

His eyes had changed and Sachi could see that he was looking at her quite openly, smiling even. She should have been angry at his audacity, but instead she found herself melting under his gaze.

‘Your eyes,’ he murmured. ‘They’re narrow like bamboo leaves and . . . green. Dark green. Forgive me, I’m just a rough
ronin
. I never thought I would lay eyes on someone so . . . I never imagined I would meet anyone . . .’ He stared at the ground and scuffed the snow with the toe of his straw boot.

‘Forgive me,’ he muttered again. ‘It’s not my place to speak to someone like you in such a way. But here we are. It must be destiny. Destiny brought us together. Karma binds us.’

He frowned as if he knew he’d gone too far.

‘I have to go,’ he grunted, turning abruptly as if something was tugging him away against his will. ‘I will visit you here again.’

VI

It was nearing the bean-throwing festival, the celebration to mark the first day of spring, when Aunt Sato flung open the doors to their room. Sachi and Yuki were reading together and looked up, startled. Aunt Sato was out of breath and her hair was even more ruffled than usual.

‘Shinzaemon and Master Toranosuké are here, my ladies,’ she panted. ‘They want to see you. They say it’s urgent. I can take a message if you like, or be your chaperone.’

Sachi said firmly, ‘We’ll see them. Please chaperone us.’

The two men and young Tatsuemon were waiting in the entrance hall, their swords poking from under their thick winter mantles. Uncle Sato was with them. He was in crisp
hakama
trousers, with his round head immaculately shaved and his hair oiled into a rigid topknot like the fine upstanding samurai he was. Compared to him, the three
ronin
, with their unshaved pates and glossy ponytails tied with purple cord, looked like wild men.

They were frowning. But it was not just the usual samurai grimace. There was something flickering in their eyes that made Sachi uneasy.

Toranosuké stepped forward, bowing. Sachi had forgotten what a fine-featured, handsome man he was beneath the stubble.

‘What have you heard?’ she asked, cutting short the customary exchange of pleasantries. ‘How are things in Edo?’

‘Please excuse our rudeness,’ said Toranosuké slowly. ‘We have had reports but the news is confused. There may have been a battle south of Kyoto.’

‘Kyoto?’ repeated Sachi, catching her breath.

‘Near the towns of Toba and Fushimi. We don’t know much yet. We heard there was fighting for three days. Hundreds of men were killed and wounded. The northern battalions fought valiantly but . . . There may have been insubordination. Our men . . .’

Three days of fighting. And from his tone it sounded as if the northerners had been defeated.

Sachi glanced at Shinzaemon, fearful that he might make some gesture to betray their secret meeting. His scowl was growing deeper.

‘You want to know what we heard?’ he growled, butting in. He spoke in the rough language of men, in broad Kano dialect. It was strange – extraordinary – to have a glimpse into the world of men like this, to be present as they talked of war and politics, matters women would never usually hear anything about. For a moment Sachi felt a secret thrill, like a little girl listening in to adults’ talk.

‘I’ll tell you,’ he snapped. ‘On the third day our men retreated to Osaka Castle to regroup. They gathered in the great hall and begged Lord Yoshinobu to lead them personally into battle.’ Sachi knew Lord Yoshinobu had abdicated as shogun and was no longer ruler of the entire country. But he was still head of the House of Tokugawa and liege lord of the northern clansmen who were fighting to hold back the southern advance. ‘With him at the helm they knew they would be unbeatable,’ Shinzaemon continued. ‘Half of those clansmen were badly wounded. Some had had limbs hewn off. But they were all raring to get back on the battlefield and deal with the southern traitors once and for all.’

‘Enough, Shin,’ barked Toranosuké. ‘Remember where you are!’

‘Let me finish,’ snarled Shinzaemon. ‘Lord Yoshinobu swore he would be at the head of the army the next day. Then . . .’ He paused, his lip curling in contempt. ‘Then he sneaked off, him and some of his so-called advisers. Seems there was a secret passage to the harbour. They couldn’t even find their ship when they got there, so they hid on a barbarian battleship.’

His face was dark as if he was going to burst with rage and anger.

‘A barbarian ship?’ quavered Sachi.

‘An American ship. They sailed to Edo the next day.’

‘He ran away!’ said Sachi. It made a kind of dreadful sense. This was the man who had snatched the throne from her dear lord and master, who’d wanted it so badly he had not hesitated to have him poisoned. Was this what he had had in mind all along?

She thought she had said it to herself but in fact she had spoken aloud. Shinzaemon looked at her.

‘He ran away,’ he grunted, nodding. ‘The shame of it!’

‘Enough!’ bellowed Uncle Sato. His hand was on the hilt of his sword. ‘Have you no loyalty? This is all rumour. How dare you report it as fact!’

‘There may be an explanation,’ said Toranosuké, trying to calm them both. ‘They say Lord Yoshinobu is planning a last stand in Edo.’

‘He’s in Edo right now,’ said Shinzaemon with a sneer. ‘You know that, you’ve seen the reports – you too, Uncle Sato.
Everyone’s laughing at him. “He came back in flight, afraid to fight, leaving his men behind.” ’

Uncle Sato looked as if he was about to explode. ‘And you believe those commoners? You dare to guess at Lord Yoshinobu’s intentions?’

‘He’s no friend to us either, Uncle Sato. You know that very well,’ said Shinzaemon. ‘But I will fight to the death for him. I know my duty.’

‘So the north has been defeated . . .’ said Sachi. She needed to be certain of it. Maybe if she said it enough times she would finally grasp what it meant.

‘That means the southerners hold Kyoto. And the whole of the south-west,’ said Shinzaemon.

There was a long silence.

‘And Edo . . . ?’ said Sachi slowly.

‘Total chaos,’ said Toranosuké. ‘There’s no one keeping order. There are thieves and bandits everywhere.’

‘Lord Yoshinobu’s troops are coming in by the shipload from Osaka, on the rampage because they haven’t been paid,’ Shinzaemon added.

‘The southerners have been distributing leaflets saying there’s going to be war and people should leave the city,’ said Toranosuké. ‘The citizens are on the streets day and night carting their belongings to the countryside.’

‘What of the castle?’ asked Sachi and Taki, almost in unison. An image of the palace and the women and the princess – her dear princess – flashed before Sachi’s eyes.

‘As far as we know, the occupants are safe.’

‘You have reports?’

‘To tell the truth, we have no reports. But if things were otherwise we would have heard.’

‘The southerners will be planning their advance,’ said Shinzaemon. ‘They’ve got good generals and English arms. If they take Edo they’ll have the country by the throat.’

‘And no one in Kano is going to prevent them,’ snarled Uncle Sato. ‘Not if his lordship has his way. The only thing for it is to ride north – try and hold back their advance.’

He glared at the women as if he had just realized they were there.

‘I know we’re only stupid women,’ said Aunt Sato, ‘but we can fight too. Don’t forget that.’

‘That Lord Yoshinobu is as slippery as a snake,’ growled Shinzaemon. ‘No one knows who he really supports or what he will do next.’

After the men had left, Taki stayed to talk to Aunt Sato. Messengers were arriving. The great hall was full of raised voices and angry discussion.

Sachi went back to their room, took a quilt and went out on the veranda. Clumps of dark moss and the outlines of stepping stones peeked through the melting snow. Snow still lay on the fallen stone lantern, marked with tiny footprints where birds had hopped across it. A crow cawed and landed heavily on a tree, sending showers of snow tumbling through the branches and crashing to the ground. Sachi sat studying the ghostly silhouettes of the trees while the sky darkened and the evening drew in.

There was a faint noise. A figure bundled up, his head and face wrapped in a scarf, stepped boldly around the house. He crunched across the snow towards her, moving lightly like a cat. Two swords poked from under his mantle. He came close to the veranda. To Sachi’s dismay she felt a quickening in her pulse and a rush of blood to her cheeks. She placed her fingertips on the polished wood and lowered her head.

‘Master Shinzaemon,’ she murmured sharply, vexed at her own confusion.

‘Excuse me for intruding,’ he said, keeping his voice low. With relief she felt her cheeks cool.

‘My lady, we must prepare to leave immediately,’ he said. His dark eyes glinted above the folds of fabric bunched around his face, his eyebrows pushed together in a frown. ‘This is war, my lady. Real war. The southerners are massing their armies. The people of Edo are preparing for a siege. Lord Yoshinobu . . . You are aware of his actions, my lady, and into what disarray this throws us and our cause. Pardon my directness, my lady. I know you’re of His Majesty’s court – but . . . he’s out to destroy us. He’s doing everything he can to stop us defending ourselves against the southerners – his enemies. We’re at a loss, my lady. No one can
understand what he’s playing at. But we are honour-bound to fight for the Tokugawas.’

Sachi nodded, frowning thoughtfully, although she barely heard the words. It was his voice, so gruff and fierce, so deep and vibrant, so different from a woman’s. The sound of it filled her with secret pleasure and made her pulse quicken. Everyone else behaved as they were expected to behave and said what they were expected to say. But he didn’t. He didn’t seem to care what anyone thought.

‘Tell me the truth,’ she said, leaning towards him. ‘What have you heard?’

‘People say the southerners control the young emperor and issue edicts in his name. I heard that on the last day of battle they marched under the imperial banner, calling themselves the imperial army. They have branded Lord Yoshinobu a traitor and an enemy of the emperor. That was why he refused to fight. But it makes no difference to us what Lord Yoshinobu does. We are bound by oaths of duty and loyalty to the Tokugawas. We will fight for them no matter what.’

‘Those southerners are greater villains than I had ever imagined,’ whispered Sachi.

‘When I was young I assumed I would serve my lord without question until I died,’ said Shinzaemon. ‘But now we don’t even know who our leaders are. How can we be loyal servants?’

‘What do you propose, sir?’ she asked, lowering her eyes. Her heart was pounding. She tried to calm her voice, to speak steadily, imperiously, as a lady of her position should.

‘For the time being the roads are quiet, my lady,’ he said. ‘Edo is no worse than anywhere else. The castle has been secured after the fire – doubly secured. It’s impregnable, it’s bristling with soldiers, it’s the greatest fortress in the land. If anywhere is safe, Edo Castle is. My comrades and I have had enough of kicking our heels. We need to get back to the front. The quicker we can cut down a few southerners, the better. We’re heading to Edo to join the resistance. If you wish to return too, we will escort you.

‘When I lived here I was a child,’ he went on, almost as if he was speaking to himself. ‘I used to sneak into this garden to practise swordplay with my cousins. It’s strange to be back.’

He ran his eyes across her face, caressing her with his gaze as if he wanted to capture her image for ever. She smiled. It was as if they were tramping across the hills again, like brother and sister. But no. It was not like that, not like brother and sister at all.

He was looking at the ground. He stooped down and thrust something towards her. Without thinking she reached out and took it. For a moment their hands brushed. She felt the touch of his rough swordsman’s skin on hers. Then he turned and strode swiftly away.