The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils (6 page)

“What shall we do now?” he asked. “We can't just walk up to them and ask to see Chiyo.”

“We may have to wait until the party starts home,” said Zenta. “When Chiyo walks by, we'll try to attract her attention somehow. She looked like a very resourceful girl, and I'm sure she would be able to think of an excuse to stay behind.”

“Do you think these men will recognize us?” asked Matsuzo. “I don't mind a repeat of yesterday's fight, but it will hardly help Chiyo.” “I don't think there is any chance of recognition, especially if we don't approach too closely,” replied Zenta.

Matsuzo decided that Zenta was right. There was such a change in their appearance that they received only a brief glance from the Fujikawa men. The two ronin seated themselves casually on a stone bench a little distance away and presented the appearance of visitors enjoying the pleasant air.

They were in luck. Before they had waited a few minutes, two girls came up the path, one carrying a stack of lacquered food boxes and the other a rice bucket. The girl with the boxes was Chiyo. As they walked by, the girls stole curious glances at the two young samurai.

Matsuzo wondered whether Chiyo would still recognize them. He had no need to worry. Chiyo's eyes were sharp and her memory was excellent. She broke into a wide smile. “You must have been sent by Hambei.”

“Yes,” said Zenta, taking her cue. “Hambei is busy today attending his master, and he asked us to bring you a message.”

Chiyo held out her stack of boxes to her companion. “Can you carry these for me? Please tell Lady Yuki that I shall be with her very shortly.”

When the other girl left Chiyo turned eagerly to the two men. “I was so glad when Maria told me that you were the new bodyguards. It's good to know that my rescuers are next door.”

Matsuzo blushed. “We were worried about you,” he said gruffly. “We came to warn you that Lord Fujikawa may have found out about your meetings with Maria.”

“Tampering with the fence was a little rash,” admitted Chiyo. “Fortunately Lord Fujikawa doesn't seem to have heard about it. What worries me more is that I thought I saw one of the Mt. Hiei monks in our neighborhood. He slipped around a corner when I turned, but I'm sure that he was the monk who attacked me yesterday.”

“That scoundrel!” cried Matsuzo. “Doesn't he have any shame?”

Sounds of activity among Lord Fujikawa's samurai reached their ears. They saw that some of the men had stood up and were beginning to put on their hats.

“We may not have much more time to talk,” Zenta said to Chiyo. “I want to ask you about something. One of the guns belonging to the Portuguese has been stolen. Did any of the samurai in your household say anything about it?” Chiyo's eyes widened. “No, I don't think so.

Do you suspect one of Lord Fujikawa's men of taking it?”

“They hate the Portuguese and they live right next door,” replied Zenta. “Those are reasons to suspect them first. If one of them stole the gun, you might have heard some talk.”

“I haven't heard any talk about the gun,” said Chiyo slowly. Suddenly she smiled and her large eyes were bright with mischief. “The only talk I've been hearing was about your fight with Kotaro yesterday. He is a bully, and some of the men are not sorry that he was given a lesson.”

“Yes, poor Kotaro must keep his head covered until his hair grows long enough to be tied up in a topknot again,” said a languid voice.

Chiyo and the two men whirled around to find Lady Yuki looking at them with an air of amusement. She was dressed in a thin silk kimono of pale green, a color which suited her creamy skin and blue-black hair. In spite of the heat she looked cool and comfortable. Matsuzo was somewhat repelled by her cold, too-perfect beauty. He much preferred Chiyo's warmth and liveliness.

There was malice as well as amusement in Lady Yuki's voice. “When I heard that Chiyo was seeing some friends of her fiancé, Hambei, I became curious. I know that Hambei works for Nobunaga, who is my father's enemy in spite of all his protestations of friendship. Little did I know that Hambei's friends are also bodyguards of the Portuguese, enemies even closer to home. Have I been so inconsiderate as to interrupt your plotting?”

“Lady Yuki, you do us an injustice,” said Zenta firmly. “We are not enemies of your father, and if he thinks so, the feeling is onesided. As for yesterday's fight, it was started by your men. They should have shown more self-control.”

Matsuzo held his breath, expecting Lady Yuki to turn livid with rage. She did not look like a person who received a reprimand with good grace.

To his surprise, Lady Yuki's mouth dropped open, and after a second she burst out laughing. “Why, you're right! My men really did show a shameful lack of self-control!” Her eyes were bright as she looked at Zenta. “But you dealt very severely with Kotaro. Do you know what it's like to keep your head covered all day long in this weather? It might have been kinder if you had simply killed him.”

Matsuzo looked suspiciously at Lady Yuki. “The little fox is trying to fascinate Zenta,” he said to himself. “And the horrible thing is that she seems to be succeeding.”

Before Zenta could reply to Lady Yuki, the other serving girl came hurrying to them. “Lady Yuki, you father is very impatient at the delay. He wishes to return home immediately.” “Oh, very well, tell him I'm coming,” said Lady Yuki, pouting. She had one more shaft for Chiyo, however. “I'm relieved to hear that you're not plotting against us, Chiyo. But I sometimes wonder what you are really doing in our household. A girl of your talents is wasted as a serving lady.”

Watching Lady Yuki's retreating back, Matsuzo felt the need to wipe his brow. “I don't think your mistress likes you, Chiyo. What if she reports our meeting to her father? It could look even worse than gossiping with Maria.”

In Chiyo's glance at her mistress there was contempt and, surprisingly, a touch of pity. “I don't think she will report this talk. If I know her character, she is more likely to keep it a secret in order to have a hold over me. It would amuse her to tease me with it.”

Matsuzo was shocked. “It must be very hard to work for a cruel mistress like this! Can't you ask Hambei to find a pleasanter position for you?”

“I don't mind,” said Chiyo, and it was true that she didn't look downtrodden in the least. “Lord Fujikawa treats me well enough, and Lady Yuki's only trouble is boredom. That's why she toys with Kotaro until that poor wretch has lost his head over her completely.” “Perhaps marriage will put an end to her boredom,” said Zenta. His eyes were on Lady Yuki's graceful figure, and to Matsuzo's alarm,

his expression was wistful.

“On the contrary, the boredom will be much worse after her marriage,” said Chiyo. “Lord Fujikawa is arranging a match with a nobleman whose only interest in life is tea.”

“Tea?” exclaimed Matsuzo.

“He spends hours every day studying tea ceremony. It is whispered everywhere that he feels no woman has the fascination of a clay tea bowl or bamboo scooper.”

“Decadent Miyako nobleman,” muttered Matsuzo.

“Lady Yuki hates the thought of this marriage,” continued Chiyo. Before she could say more, they heard commands given for departure. “I must go,” she said hurriedly. “I'll try to get word to you if I hear any news about the gun.”

She left not a moment too soon. The samurai were all standing at attention as Lord Fujikawa made ready to enter his sedan chair. He was a tall, stooped man with lines of ill-humor deeply scored on his face. Even from a little distance away, Matsuzo could tell that he was hot and angry.

Lord Fujikawa's ill-humor needed a victim, and he rounded on his daughter. “Where have you been?” he demanded, without bothering to lower his voice. “I've been waiting since the end of the meal!”

Receiving no answer, he became angrier still. “You've been allowed to run completely wild after your mother's death! I see that I've been delaying the completion of your marriage negotiations too long. It's time to get you married off and out of my house!”

Matsuzo had no particular liking for Lady Yuki, but at her public humiliation, even he felt a deep embarrassment. He could sense Zenta growing tense with anger.

Lady Yuki, however, exhibited a superb self-control, so lacking in her father and her household samurai. Her only response was a cold stare. She climbed into her sedan chair and lowered the blinds with a sharp snap.

One person, however, showed a more violent reaction to Lord Fujikawa's words. The samurai at the head of the file clenched his fist and his hand went halfway to his sword before it fell back. Since the man wore a hat, Matsuzo could not see the upper part of his face, but he recognized the flaring nostrils and the grinding teeth. This was Kotaro, the involuntary recipient of a haircut and Lady Yuki's devoted slave.

After Lord Fujikawa's party had left, the two ronin also prepared to descend. Zenta looked up for a moment at the gathering clouds. “We can expect a stormy night ahead of us.”

Chapter 7

 

 

“Hambei,” said Nobunaga, “are you sure that Zenta will be able to protect the Portuguese with only the help of his young assistant? The safety of these foreigners is important to me.” “Zenta is a superb swordsman, my lord.

He is more than a match for Lord Fujikawa's bullies.”

“Your story about the shorn topknot is all very well, but we need more than a trick swordsman. Shouldn't we send some of our own men also?”

“We can't afford to have our men come into open conflict with Lord Fujikawa, my lord. It's better to use these two ronin, since they have no known allegiance. Zenta is experienced as a commander, and he will be able to organize the defense of the Portuguese.”

“Hm . . . I think I should like to have this ronin as a staff officer eventually,” said Nobunaga thoughtfully. “But Hambei, if any harm comes to the Portuguese, I will have your head.”

 

Waiting for the storm to break seemed to take an eternity. What Pedro needed this evening was company, but Father Luis was probably praying in his study, and most of the other staff had already retired for the night. Pedro found sleep to be impossible in the sultry heat. As he squirmed in his tight-fitting doublet and hose, he envied the Japanese in their loose cotton kimonos. Once he had even asked Maria to get him a kimono. But when he tried it on, his long legs had extended so far beyond the bottom of the hem that the sight had sent her into a fit of giggling.

Pedro still remembered the first time he had ever seen Maria. She stood weeping outside their gate. When he had appeared, she ran to him and asked him to take her in, declaring herself willing to become a Christian convert. Pedro learned that her family were poor relations of Lord Fujikawa's wife. After the girl had been left orphaned, she entered Lord Fujikawa's household as an attendant. She soon found her master pursuing her with unwelcome attention, and she escaped to the Portuguese for refuge. To Pedro's surprise, Maria showed a quiet courage totally unexpected in someone of her meek appearance. She held stubbornly to her Christian faith in spite of the fact that all of Lord Fujikawa's people, except Chiyo, jeered at her whenever they had a chance.

Lately Pedro found his thoughts turning more and more often to Maria. When he had jokingly spoken to Father Luis about marrying a Japanese wife, Maria had been in the back of his mind. But he knew that Father Luis would not approve. He would say that Pedro was taking advantage of Maria's helpless and dependent situation.

Pedro sighed and looked wistfully at his guitar. He had an absurd desire to play sentimental songs on it. He had bought the instrument from a Portuguese merchant and he used to play his favorite songs, much to the fascination of the Japanese. Unfortunately the damp weather had ruined the strings and he had not been able to replace them. Once he had seen a blind Japanese musician using a plucked instrument called a
biwa
to accompany some ballads. It bore a vague resemblance to a guitar. Pedro had eagerly tried it out, but to his disappointment it had only four strings and was totally unsuited to European music. Father Luis, he knew, had ordered some viols and even a virginal to be sent, but it would be months before they arrived. Pedro was not optimistic about the effect of Japanese weather on the instruments.

Finally he rose from his clammy bed and went to the room of the two bodyguards, hoping to find them still awake. Through the thin rice paper paneling, he could see that the lamp in their room was still lit, and he ventured to slide open the door an inch and look in.

He found the two men hunched over a low square table made of a very thick slab of wood mounted on four stubby legs. The two ronin were concentrating upon the top of the table, which contained a configuration made up of a large number of little black and white stones.

Without looking up Zenta said, “Come in and join us.” Then he took another white stone from a small bowl and added it to the design on the table.

Pedro entered and looked curiously down at the table. He had seen it before in the room of one of his staff, but had thought that it was just another piece of furniture. Now he saw that the little stones were arranged on a grid of fine lines drawn upon the top of the table. Evidently a board game of some sort was in progress. “What are you playing?” he asked.

“It's a game called go,” replied Zenta. Turning to Matsuzo he said, “You agree that we are finished?”

“There is no point in playing any longer,” said Matsuzo, looking resigned. He separated the black stones from the white and put them back into their containers.

Zenta invited Pedro to sit down and, taking out a few of the stones, began to explain the game. “The object is to occupy territory, and you invade your opponent's territory by capturing his men. A man, represented by a stone, is captured when he is completely surrounded.”