The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (33 page)

I. Homecoming

The samurai had one more
sh
ō
en
to collect from before travelling to the Taira Clan city near Heian-Kyō. These fields appeared much like the others but I felt uneasy. They seemed familiar. Perhaps I was mistaken. After all, the huts here were no different from any others. But I recognised that cluster of six over that small hill—

‘We are close. Those are the outbuildings of the next
sh
ō
en
,’ Tokikazu said, leaning over my horse.

My stomach tensed, a symptom I had come to trust. I scanned the horizon. To the left, a hill stirred a sharp memory. A mulberry thicket on its west side. My thoughts thrashed, like a wet cat. The trees had grown in ten years.

That last day. The odour of rich soil and sweat surrounded me now. Had we already passed my father’s fields? Could I break away? No! Dishonour.

I had met him here. Heavy ropes tightened around my chest. My stomach seized into a hard fist.

The estate of Chiba no Tashiyori.

Led by Mokuhasa, our foot soldiers ran past us to secure the area. I closed ranks with the captain and Sadakokai, and saw the gate. The same gate. Akio had rescued me there from a fall. Now my horse balked, skittish suddenly.

By the time I had calmed him, we were inside. At the sight of Big House across the path, my thoughts blurred. My tongue was thick and dry. The sickening cruelties and deceit. My training returned. I breathed slowly. I cleared my mind, but my hands were taut. My horse became restless again, shook his head and stamped.

Tokikazu pulled his horse closer. ‘Is this not where you were before you went to the Village of Outcasts?’

I forced myself to take a long breath and say, ‘Honourable Captain, may I ask you to tell me the reason for your question?’ My horse pawed the ground.

His sparse eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘It seems that this proprietor, like the last one, has kept taxes that belong to my lord Michimori.’

I willed my thoughts to stay in the moment.

‘Does that surprise you?’ he asked.

‘No.’ At last, Chiba was found out, the lying, cheating, betraying thief. I thought my smile went entirely inward, but perhaps it reached my eyes. ‘Not at all.’ Who was this man? First he had taught me not to turn my back on an opponent. Now he had told me that Chiba, a demon in my life, had been found out.

A foot soldier dashed up to us, presented the captain with a note and sprinted away.

‘I have just been told where the proprietor is hiding. I need to . . . speak with him. Would you please come with me?’

From his tone I believed he knew a great deal more than he had said. No! I thought. I did not want to see that creature, that
oni
, ever again. The Buddha taught tolerance. ‘Thank you, Captain.’ Where had those words come from? The Buddha? Tashiko?

My horse fought me with every step as we rode towards Lesser House. What would I find? Who would I find? Should I kill him – or would I forgive him? What if he had another girl there? I prayed: Please, Lord Buddha, guide me. With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes for a moment. My horse stopped.

I opened my eyes and faced the door. Such a small hut. I could not believe such misery had begun in such a charming place.

‘Kozaishō,’ Tokikazu interrupted my ramblings. ‘The proprietor attempts to conceal himself here. My men are confiscating the goods he owes my lord.’ He scrutinised me with clear eyes I could not read. ‘Do you want to see the man?’

No, I thought again. I ached to kill him. I wanted to make him suffer. ‘Yes, Captain.’ Yes! I desired to see him tied down and under the hoofs of every horse on this
sh
ō
en
. Broken. Bleeding. Begging for his life. How could I do that with Tokikazu there?

‘If that is your wish,’ he continued, ‘it would honour me to accompany you.’

‘No . . . no, thank you, Captain. If I may be permitted, it is my . . . wish to see him alone.’ I needed to see him alone. So I could slaughter him. Or forgive him? Again that thought. Where had it come from? How could I perform the Right Action when I did not know what it was? Forgive: the peaceful way. Kill: the right-minded revenge.

Tokikazu yanked his reins and rode off.

I was alone.

Descending from my horse, I wondered what would best honour my Tashiko. How could there be absolution for all the suffering this man had caused? How could I avenge Tashiko’s honour – and maintain my family’s?

Akio. Master Isamu. All their lessons. I recited the Noble Eight-fold Path. I repeated Right Thinking, Right Speech and Right Action several times. This usually calmed me.

The door of Lesser House. How often I had dreaded a new horror when that door opened. Now I would be the one to open it. This door to Hell. I checked myself: my two swords, helmet, chest, arm and hand plates, and the leg armour I wore over my
hitatare
. My riding shoes. All secure.

With one hand on my
tachi
, the other on the door, I slowly moved the screen, as I had so many times. Would I take blood, so close to my recent experience with the Amida Buddha? I prayed. I kept the scraping noise quiet.

Amida Buddha, allow me to take the Right Action!

I searched the small room, blinking in its yellow light. All appeared the same. He sat on a
futon
. His hair had thinned. His face, although bloated, was more wrinkled. The face of an ancient man. His eyes had shrunk to ink flecks. What was I doing here? How could I kill this old grandfather?

‘Who are you?’ Grunting like a sick animal, he took time to stand.

I took the readiness stance. ‘Do you not know me? Do you not recognise me?’

‘Should I?’ His voice cracked. His body quivered like plum jelly.

Perhaps Tashiko’s Buddha helped me. It would be easy to forgive this pathetic, frightened man. I removed my helmet. ‘Yes. You should.’ A step closer. ‘I am Kozaishō.’

‘Kozaishō . . . Kozaishō.’ He squeezed his eyes as if to dredge my name from the recesses of his memory. His eyes widened. ‘Oh – you.’ His body stopped shuddering. He pulled his shoulders back. ‘It is you. Of all the girls Goro brought me, I thought you would not be the one to return. With your omens. And training with the boys. You cost me a samurai. A good one at that.’ The old man’s voice was potent with anger. His words soared strongly; his tone slashed sarcasm. He smiled his old all-teeth-showing smile. A harmless old dog with no teeth.

I saw the arrogance and his pathetic attempt at superiority.

‘Why have you come?’ He spat.

‘To say goodbye . . . and to cleanse you from my life.’ With these words I knew why I was there. He no longer had a little girl who believed his lies, promises and stories. His stories.

His marvellous stories. This man had given me the stories that had taken me out of the Village.

‘Is that all?’

‘Yes.’ The word seemed to come from Tashiko’s spirit or, perhaps, from the Buddha Himself. ‘I forgive you,’ I said, in the voice for errant servants. I put on my helmet to leave.

He manoeuvred an arm behind himself, then brought it to the front. He held a dagger in the way he had once flaunted his whips.

‘I have no need to fight with you, Proprietor Chiba no Tashiyori,’ I said, in formal language. The words came forth with conviction. My hands no longer itched to put a sword into his lying, sadistic flesh. ‘I forgive you. There is no need to protect yourself. I seek no revenge. Your
inago
in your next life will suffice for me.’

I turned to go. Sensed it first. Heard it next. Spun into a defensive stance. Sword readied. Do not give me a reason. It would provide sad satisfaction to spill your blood here in Lesser House, you wretched old man.

I waited. My chest drummed.

A faint motion of his blade.

The dagger fell to the floor. I heard him wail as I departed from Lesser House for the last time.

Leading my horse, I wandered through the
sh
ō
en
, to the ponds where Tashiko had taken me on my first day. The temple. Here I sprinkled salt around me, said my prayers and entered to light a candle for my beloved. Compared to Phoenix Hall, it was tiny and pitiable, as Chiba was now. I mounted my horse and named him Dragon Cloud, after the omen that had allowed my samurai training. We rode to the practice fields.

Around a circle, our samurai were shooting some animal, which howled, wailed and moaned. Drag marks in the grass attested to a huge dog or boar. I followed the ropes, which kept it within the circle of laughing warriors. Notching an arrow, I rode close. They parted for me, and I saw him. Chiba.

My childhood’s demon transformed into a wretched animal, claiming my pity. I had to bring a quick death to the creature’s suffering. Without another thought, I shot him through the chest.

When all those eyes turned to me, I realised what I had done. I lied, ‘Kannon-sama must have possessed me. Please forgive me. I am sorry to have spoiled your sport.’

Tokikazu rode up and dismissed them. ‘Yes,’ he announced, to the soldiers. ‘I do believe the Goddess of Mercy influenced you, Lady Kozaishō.’

I was so startled by his approval that I said nothing to him for the rest of the day, except the minimum required for politeness.

I had much to think about.

What manner of man was Tokikazu?

II. Portable Shrine

We travelled on the road north of Byōdōin, avoiding the city of Uji, and stopped. Tokikazu acted like the governor, sending spies through the countryside and waiting until they returned. While we waited by Ogura pond, I walked to the water, washed my face, rinsed my mouth and prayed. I called to the son of our Storm God, the Great Evil-doer, to appease him and ensure safety for the remainder of our travel to Heian-kyō.

That night, when we established shelter for the evening, Misuki, Emi and I were excited to be near the capital. We dressed in our costumes, sang and danced. Mokuhasa, the short, broad samurai with much hair on his body and one thick eyebrow on his face, played the
biwa
. Its sweet sounds filled the darkness, like a soothing breeze. His music was as gentle as his sword was savage. Joining him, I sang.

A memory of the marriage ceremony of my sister Second Daughter came to my mind. All my sisters and I were dressed in fine clothes and new straw shoes my father had made. Second Daughter and Fourth Daughter had taught me songs and dances, and I performed with my sisters. Father and Mother smiled more than I had thought was possible. Fourth Daughter was so content that she did not shout or lose her temper all day. I beamed at my memory and continued to dance.

In my mind I saw bodies falling, blood spouting, swords, arrows and the gaping mouths of men struggling to breathe, their open dead eyes.

The next morning, Tokikazu taught me a new stroke for my sword, Cutting the Sleeve, across the wrist.

The following day, as we rested near the foot of a modest hill, along the Kamo river south-east of the city, we could see the capital: Heian-kyō. The rounded hills surrounding the city looked as if the Gods had folded it in their hands. Smoke from many small fires drifted above the tops of the trees. Beneath it, I saw buildings, houses so endless they were like flecks of dirt in a cave. Multi-coloured tiled and thatched roofs, the tiled roofs of temples and the red pillars of shrines showed through the smoke, like painted rocks exposed in a fog. I saw activity, too distant to be seen – ox-drawn carriages and carts from farms.

Sadakokai pointed out where each of the major shrines and temples stood. All of the samurai looked to the east, to Rokuhara, where Chancellor Kiyomori had established his city, one big house after another, each surrounded by gardens and numerous huts for its multitude of servants. This was where I was going. I did not journey through Heian-kyō.

Emi shrieked.

I turned to her. From a hill I saw
s
ō
hei
carrying a portable shrine swathed in a dark grey cloud from its incense and candles. It was draped with deep purple brocade. When they heard Emi, the twenty or so monks moved back up the hill, surrounding the God within in its shrine. Thoughout my travels, religious gates,
tori-i
, had always marked a shrine, so this one was an oddity. Gauze-swathed men, faces hidden so they were indistinguishable from each other, guarded it, and each bore a heavy wooden staff. The
s
ō
hei
assumed fighting positions. Taira foot soldiers encircled us. Tokikazu stood in front, closest to the
s
ō
hei
. Mokuhasa and Sadakokai were behind, to the left and right of him. I stood directly behind Tokikazu and made the fighting square.

We stood far enough away from each other so that our blades would not touch. I unsheathed my sword, and saw that their weapons were already out and in position. Tokikazu’s sinewy body was taut, like an over-tightened string on a
koto
. Mokuhasa was ahead to my left. His thick body dwarfed his sword. Sadakokai hummed sutras.

With shrill cries, the monks attacked, brandishing their staffs, which made sucking noises in the thick air. Their long white robes did not seem to move as they rushed at us. Suddenly in my mind, I stood on the practice field, but now with a real opponent swaddled in white gauze over black armour, face almost hidden. A lapse could mean death or dishonour.