The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (54 page)

sarvasamgasamatikrante sarvadharmasuparikshite

sarvasattvarutakaushalyanugate simhavikridite

Fifth day of Pilgrimage

Misuki borrowed armour from Mokuhasa, since he was closest to her size. I wore mine under my clothes. Many guards, as well as Akio, Mokuhasa and Sadakokai, hid in our tent, away from the lamps.

Michimori forbade Tokikazu to join us. ‘He is too valuable to lose.’

Some small part of me was relieved that I would not be forced to lie next to Tokikazu.

Yet Michimori had said this harshly, unlike his other directives. Was his true reasoning that he did not trust me, again? Or that he did not trust Tokikazu
and
me? Could the target of this distress lie somewhere else? Yet I was outraged at the implied distrust of Tokikazu with me, and desolate at the lost faith of my husband in my honour. My honour, which I most valued and for which I had fought over and over again. Where was I to find it except in blood?

We pretended to sleep. Sadakokai feigned snores, and Misuki worked to stop herself from giggling. Fortunately, she had had much practice in this.

We waited in the dark, listening to the night birds and the trees’ soughing, inhaling the different perfumes of the samurai.

Then we heard it. The crunching of armour against armour. I squeezed Misuki’s hand. Fortunately she did not move or cry out. Waiting. The delicate soundlessness of a sword out of its scabbard.

Someone jumped up and yelled. A sword glinted against the lamps. Akio came from behind. I heard the clash of sword against armour and the grunt as someone fell. Akio’s grunt. Was he hurt? Dead?

Sadakokai, who lay beside Misuki, leaned over, dagger drawn, and attacked with a throaty sound. I aimed my dagger and threw it into the third traitor. A dull thud and a shout as it gained its mark.

Two betrayers in custody, two conspirators seriously wounded, and one dying, five in all. Soldiers sequestered them. One of the seriously wounded bore the face I had seen in my dream from the Second Day of this pilgrimage.

Michimori granted Plover the rank of Chief Priest at one of our temples. Such munificence. I hoped all the traitors were found – our goal to remove the mice from the storehouse. Emi had been avenged, and I was pleased, for the moment.

Servants had cleared the wreckage of my tent and readied it for sleep. Later that night, I heard groaning. Tamuramaro’s burial mound. Did this mean peril for Rokuhara? The capital? Both?

The Chief Priest presented me with part of a
sutra
written on blue paper in thick silver and gold lettering, like the sun and the moon together. I placed it with the piece Chiba had given Tashiko in my crane document box from Michimori.

At this time, it was right that old and new were together.

I thanked Kannon-sama, the Goddess of Mercy, for my close ones’ and my safety.

II. Enemies

My sleep had been disrupted since Emi’s murder. I approached the priests’ practice field early, before most servants, in the Hour of the Tiger. Tokikazu and Akio were due in a short time, and I made my way to the pavilion to see if the morning rice had been delivered.

I heard two men arrive and talk while I ate. I recognised the voices.

‘One last time, I warn you, Tokikazu.’ The anger in Akio’s voice sliced through the thick haze outside the pavilion.

‘Stop, Akio. My sentiments are not like cherry blossoms. They are trees. Pines. They will not change, regardless of the danger she is in.’

‘I spoke to her about her duty. And her honour.’

‘You truly thought you needed to?’

I remained motionless, the better to listen.

‘This is not one of your lovers’ games. I have known her since she was a little girl.’

‘Akio, she is a grown woman now.’

At this I said yes to myself.

‘Have you seen what Chiba did to her back? No? I have. When she was only nine or ten. A sight I have not forgotten.’

‘No.’ The resentment leached out of Tokikazu’s voice.

‘Imagine what Chiba did to those girls because he was forbidden to use them as he wanted.’

‘No. Akio.’

‘Do you know what Goro likes to do to girls of my daughters’ ages?’

I did not stir, frozen in memories. Copper pheasants cooed in their nests.

‘
I
know, Tokikazu.
I
know.’ Akio’s voice crackled as he snapped out the words. ‘That is why I went to the Village of Outcasts willingly. Joyfully. I needed to protect my girls. It would have been only a short while before he discovered them.’

‘He?’

‘Goro. Daigoro no Goro. You remember him?’

Tokikazu grunted several times and spat. Goro had cost him dear.

‘We must not let this
oni
in priest’s clothes near her again. Goro killed her lover, a girl named Tashiko, in the same way that he murdered Emi!’

‘Her lover? Kozaishō had a female lover?’ Tokikazu’s voice was suddenly as faint as a wispy cloud.

‘The only difference between Tashiko’s and Emi’s deaths is, hopefully, that Goro did not have time to torture
and
rape Emi before he strangled her.’

A snarl of revulsion pierced the pavilion, a spear into a
mochi
.

‘Yes, Tokikazu. That is what he likes to do. Torture. Rape. Then strangle.’

‘Loathsome! What evil!’

‘If you dishonour Kozaishō, she
will
be punished. Do
not
do that. Please. Know also I
will
come for you.’

‘I assure you my feelings for Kozaishō are honourable.’

‘I must have your word.’

‘Akio, I give it to you. I will not dishonour Kozaishō. I will not.’

‘She is another daughter to me.’ His words floated like an autumn leaf on a pond. ‘Let us protect her, then.’

‘Agreed.’

‘But remember, I shall continue to watch you.’

‘If you must, Akio. Now let us find our recalcitrant student and put her through her paces.’

‘Yes. She will need her skills.’

‘I fear so.’

That night Plover met me. I saw his white-streaked hair glistening under the new moon near the plum trees.

‘I could not tell all earlier, my lady.’

‘All of what?’

‘All of the men we questioned not only admitted Minamoto ties, but direct orders.’

‘From whom?’

‘Daigoro no Goro.’

The sound of that name sent a shiver of anger up my back to my neck. ‘I am not surprised. Is there more, valued Plover?’

‘He told us where to find Goro.’

My body flushed hotly. ‘Where? You know why I need to find him.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

I looked him in the eyes. ‘You know what I wish to do. And you know what he has done.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

He gave me the information.

‘I will arrange a false assignation by the river. Can I rely on your discretion?’

‘By that you mean silence?’

‘Yes. At least until my meeting is over.’

‘For you. Also for our honourable Commander-in-Chief Lord Taira no Michimori.’

I heard a sigh. I waited and stared into his eyes.

‘Yes, my lady.’

III. Honour and Blood

He sat near the side of a stream, his back to a small wood fire, wearing a black
kanmuri
. How silly that hat looked on his ugly face. I stood silent and waited. My mouth tasted of sand. He blinked as he noticed my sword and my thumb resting on its
tsuba
. I had devised this scheme since he had tortured and raped me, more than three years ago.

I had envisaged a fight, but he held only a dagger. An honourable way would have been to give him an equal weapon. I had no intention of treating him honourably. He had lost the right to such from the moment he had misused his power.

‘You!’ He recognised me.

‘Yes. Kozaishō, wife of the commander-in-chief, the honourable Lord Echizen Governor Taira no Michimori.’

‘It is said Michimori is never without his Woman-for-Play. Perhaps he is here to protect you,’ he sneered, and glanced to each side, standing. ‘Where is he?’ He gave a short laugh, but looked around with fear in his black eyes.

‘I stand here alone.’ I stared at him, then set my face guard and helmet. He would either run or fight. I hoped he would fight.

‘Alone?’ His face contorted into a true mask of wickedness, from the face of an egret to that of a hawk.

My sword could do the deed. My arrows could bring him down if he ran.

His foot made a small shift backwards. He was going to run. I pulled two arrows together out of my quiver and then set my bow.

His eyes darted to his right. Two arrows notched.

His eyes flashed left.

I raised my bow.

His eyes looked upwards. He shifted back again, slightly. This was sweet, seeing him try to control his fright. He had harmed me for so long; he had earned it.

Another step backwards.

Another.

I smiled and directed my thoughts. A pull on my bow.

His left heel pivoted.

I breathed with an arrow.

He turned.

Zap.

Readied my second arrow.

Zap.

Both targets struck.

There he lay, face down, legs askew, an arrow piercing each thigh.

With caution I strolled to stand at his head. It moved to one side and up a little. His eyes burned red with what I hoped was fear, possibly pain or hate.

‘That was for Misuki. My servant and friend. For her anguish. You let her know of your “Purification” trap for me, but she was powerless to prevent it.’

His lips pinched together. He took loud breaths, while his eyes flitted back and forth. He righted himself. He wrested at the arrows.

One wound bled profusely. I could not allow the bleeding to kill him. I grabbed a long piece of wood from the fire and staunched it. He screeched as a demon from the deepest Hell. I threw away the wood and unsheathed my sword. He fell back into the sand, then wobbled to his feet, panting hard.

Staring at him, but far enough away that he could not kick me, I said, ‘I want to relish this as much as you amused yourself in harming me and mine.’

I stepped back to view all of him. I feigned moving my head down as if to look at his feet and cut off his broken nose. He howled, raised his hands to stop the gush of blood, and knelt in the sand.

‘Now you will not have to live with that broken nose.’ I forced my lips upwards. ‘That is for the innocent life you took. My Emi’s. She was the servant you strangled in my apartments. You used her as if she were a piece on a
go
board.’ His moaning became a rhythmic drone.

‘Even if you have a hundred tongues in your mouth and utter a thousand prayers, never speak ill of monks or violate women, or you will incur more penalties.’

My last stroke cut lightly into his belly. His intestines bulged across his forearms and thighs, and he dropped backwards into the sand. He scrutinised the viscera oozing from his belly. He knew an excruciating death was impending.

‘That was for the poor girl named Tashiko at the Village of Outcasts near Uji. You murdered her for your pleasure. Then you shortened her funeral. You cut her life force. You dishonoured her . . . and me. Her soul has wandered for years because of you!

‘And you made a sham of my Purification ceremony. You raped me! You used your power in perverted ways. You persecuted me and my servants. All those attempts to kill me and my husband!’

Then, as he howled with pain, I yelled at him: ‘You vicious, debased, perverted, evil man! I hope you are reborn as a slug in springtime when the bramblings fight and mate. I hope you are reborn as a mosquito larva in a long drought and die. I hope you are reborn as a snake, with no teeth or fangs, and crawl on your belly in the dirt until you die of starvation. I hope you are reborn – no, I hope you never have a chance to attain enlightenment. I hope you never know the Buddha.’

His hawk eyes spilled with tormented tears. His eyes swelled white and wide, gazing at me.

I could not continue to torture him. I had inflicted ample pain for honourable retribution. With one stroke I took off his head, then set it on a spear in the sand.

Retrieving the cleaning cloths from my horse, I removed all traces of his wickedness from my sword and replaced it in its sheath.