The Samurai's Lady

The Samurai‟s Lady
Chapter One
Pain.
It encased Katharine‟s head, filled her body and seemed to hold her limbs in concrete. In her mind she saw visions, but whether they were dreams or actual events,was beyond her comprehension.
She heard Spanish voices, distant but coming closer. They had discovered her hiding place in the hold shortly after the storm began. When the trapdoor opened she ran up on deck, pushing past whoever was in her way.
She could feel rain on her face, buffeted by a gale force wind as the ship was carried under its rule. It was all she could do to keep her flowing skirts from pulling herinto the raging torrent of the roaring sea below as she scrambled to pull a lifeboat from its moorings. Finally it came loose. With effort she pushed it over the side. When she peered over she found it hard to see the outline of the boat dangling by its mooring ropes.
Hurriedly she scrambled down, landing with a thud and just managing to keep from being pulled over the side as the craft teetered. She untied the ropes and braced herself for the fall to the water a few feet below.
Just as she glimpsed the outline of land ahead a wave came up from behind and drenched her. She held her breath at the shock of the cold water. Then she heard another sound.
It wasn‟t thunder. With horror she saw her lifeboat wasn‟t as trustworthy as she had hoped—it was beginning to break apart.
It seemed an eternity but the storm diminished. The winds died down, the waves became low and steady. The sky cleared, but Katharine was too exhausted to notice. She pulled herself painfully up onto the sand, finally letting go of the last plank of the lifeboat. A gray fog threatened to engulf her but she pushed it away. She heard voices, but she didn‟t care. Her eyes half closed she saw people in front of her. They were wearing what, skirts or wide pants? The fog became a thick black cloud that she could not resist.
Through the mist she sensed someone there. It was a man, although her eyes refused to focus clearly. She watched him drawhissword and threaten the group gathered around her. She would have no strength to resist him. But he only stooped beside her.
His hand moved gently over her, inspecting her wounds. Then he stood and she felt herself being lifted. Even in her confused state, she could tell the strength in his arms.
His feet sliding on the sand bounced and jolted her, but she could tell he was being careful not to jerk her too much.
He stopped suddenly and she opened her eyes. They were standing before the entrance to a large residence.
A woman hurried to slide back the screen. She must have been watching for him for he‟d made no sound. A few words were exchanged. Then she made way for them to enter.
Katharine was carried into a large room; her rescuer gently laid her on a thick mattress that the woman placed on the floor. The comfort of the quilt under her relaxed her and she slept.
She woke sometime later. How long it had been she didn‟t know; it could have been days, weeks, or even months. The same woman was there. She smiled and bowedher head but didn‟t speak.
For many days it was all Katharine could do to turn over to get comfortable before dropping off to sleep again.
One day her rescuer entered the room shortly after she wakened. He spoke a few words to the servant who bowed and left to do his biding. After she‟d gone he knelt beside her and ran his hand over her broken body. He was so gentle it was hard to believe it was the same man who had threatened to kill only a short while ago. She struggled to sit up; it took all her strength, but she needed to know. “Where am I? Is this the Japan‟s?”
“Ugokanai! Lie still.”
The sharp order made her jump. She stared at him, seeing him clearly for the first time.
His back was perfectly straight, but relaxed. His full head of black hair was softly waved and just brushed the collar of his kimono. His cheekbones were high but his face was in good proportion. His lips were thin, the mouth wide but not overly so. She closed her eyes again. She didn‟t want to see what he was doing. She laid her head back against the pillow and relaxed as best she could. This was obviously what he wanted.
“Kono jokyo itamaru desu.” His voice was softer now, although the words made no sense.
Her eyes opened wide again with fear as she screamed in pain.
“Yasumu. Easy.” He whispered. “Owari de aru. It‟s all over”
She sighed and closed her eyes. When she heard him get up and walk across the room, she opened them again.
She watched his retreating back through half closed eyes. He was taller than she expected; she estimated about six feet tall. And slightly built, but not skinny. He evidently took care of himself.
Not like that slovenly oaf, her parents had wanted to marry her off to. Even being unable to understand a word spoken here was better than that.
She felt so tiredher eyes wouldn‟t stay open any longer.
She could hear music—a flute. Breathy, as if the holes were not quite covered. She came fully awake and realized that while the pain still lingered it no longer held her prisoner.
In the pale light that filtered through translucent walls on three sides of the room, she saw a chest with many compartments beside her pallet. Casting her eyes about the room, she saw where the music was coming from.
The man was kneeling in the far corner of the room beside a small wooden table that held a low square lantern made out of the same material as the walls. It cast a warm yellow-orange glow over the room.
The tune was slow, haunting. Katharine found herself relaxing into it and floated back to sleep on its soft waves. She lost all track of time.
When she woke again the room was empty. She could hear voices; looking in the direction of the sounds, she saw the shadows of the man and his servant woman through the screen wall.
She listened to the tone of their voices. The man‟s held strength even in its gentleness; he would not abide any defiance. Then she saw the woman walk away. It was sometime later when he entered carrying a small lacquered tray containing small bowls of food and drink.
She was wide awake now and able to sit up with only minimal difficulty. “Taberu.” He said. She frowned. “Taberu.” He repeated, holding a bowl to his lips and drinking from it. “Taberu.”
Logic told her that she needed something to eat although she had no appetite. She tried to sit up.
The man whispered something under his breath.
“Let me help you.” He smiled.
“You speak English?” Her surprise was registered in her eyes.
“Yes. I learned a long time ago. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Fujito.” He used the Western form of address. Did she detect a note of arrogance in his voice, or was it merely self-confidence?
“Why didn‟t you speak English before?”
“All in good time. First you must eat and then you will tell me about yourself.” He knelt beside the pallet and placing an arm around her shoulders helped her into a sitting position. Then he picked a piece of food from the largest bowl, held it between two sticks, and raised it to her lips. She took a small bite.
It tasted salty but she ate it hungrily. To a person who hadn‟t eaten in goodness knew how long it tasted like heaven. When she had finished, he selected another piece.
She could see he was pleased by her return of appetite and it gave her unexpected pleasure. When the meal was eaten he put the tray on the floor beside him and settled himself more comfortably.
“Now, would you be good enough to tell me your name?”
“Lady Katharine Elizabeth Davenport.” She had tried to sound as arrogant as he but felt she had succeeded only in expressing herself like a petulant child. Fujito smiled, just barely.
“And where are you from Katharine Elizabeth Davenport?” Had he omitted her title deliberately?
“London England.”
“I had not realized the English allowed their women to undertake such dangerous voyages.” The look of compassion in his soft brown eyes belied the condescending tone of his voice.
“You haven‟t answered my question” She reminded him.
“And which one was that?”
“Why you never spoke English before.”
“Ah, so.” He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. “It wasn‟t necessary.” “Where am I? How long have I been here?”
“You are in Kagoshima on the island of Kyushu in the Japans. You have been here three months recovering from your wounds.”
They were silent then and Katharine became tired. She closed her eyes. When she heard him move she opened them again. He was standing over her, smiling. “You aretired. I will leave you to rest awhile.”
It was the next morning before she knew it. Fujito entered quietly and came over to where she lay. Kneeling he shook her gently.
“Ohiyo Gozaimasu.” He smiled.
“Ohi—“ She tried to pronounce it but gave up.
“Good morning will do, Lady Davenport.” The gentleness of his voice softened the coldness of the words. But his smile did not meet his eyes.
“Good morning.” She smiled shyly. The man was an enigma; would she ever know how to respond to him?
After breakfast of soup, rice, and a little fish he stood up and walked toward the door. “I shall return shortly. I have something for you.”
He returned a few moments later carrying a large sea chest.
“My trunk! Wherever did you find it?
“Hirado. I took a trip there a few days ago. The Factor gave it to me. He said you would need it.”
Katharine pulled open the lid and peered inside. Everything was intact. Her clothes her books, her playing cards, and most importantly, her lute. Taking it gently from its case, she placed it on her lap. When she tested the strings, she found them just as she had left them.
When she looked up to thank him Fujito had gone. It didn‟t matter. Standing, she pulled out a thin frock holding it against her she twirled around. Fujito had returned without her knowing it and was watching her silently from the doorway.
She was not as sure of her footing as she had thought. The room swam around her as she felt herself falling. Suddenly she felt his strong arm around her waist, holding her upright. She turned to thank him; their eyes met. His held no emotion. “Thank you.” She smiled shakily.
“Do itashimashite. You‟re welcome.” His smile lit his eyes, but only for a moment. “I will leave you to dress.” There was a faint huskiness in his voice.

“So.” Michiko said. “She knows you were in Hirado?” There was a hint of displeasure in the servant‟s voice.
“Yes.” He was still the Samurai and in control, despite the many years of friendship between them.
She had come to the family as a nurse for his mother after childbirth, and when his mother had died three years later of a mysterious illness, stayed to look after him athis father‟s request. They had almost grown up together, only fifteen years separated them. Because his father, and later his elder brother who ruled Kyushu after him was so often away he and Michiko had become close companions. He did not love her; never could. They had only friendship in common. His brother when he attained the title of Lord of the Shimazu had decreed a marriage for him.
But before it could take place, his brother was killed, ambushed on the road returning from Edo.
Since neither he or the girl had wanted the match it never happened and he had remained single for the last eight years.
His nephew Jiro had acceded to the title and had made his uncle lord of Kagoshima. Princehood had come hard to Fujito. He, as the second son, had no need to rule and order. For this, he was glad. He did not have it in him to lord it over people and could never understand the need to kill, for something as unimportant as a peasant‟s looking at you the wrong way; or even for sport, as he knew some did.
But to refuse the order of the head of the clan would have meant death, or at the very least banishment to Sado. So here he now sat in control not only of his own house but that of every Samurai in Kagoshima and its surroundings. And now of the barbarian woman recuperating in the next room.
“And you are going to keep her here? ” The servant asked.
“What choice do I have? The ship has left Hirado and won‟t return for another year. And she can‟t be moved yet. Not in her condition.”
“You could have let her drown. Or let one of the others kill her.” She answered. sullenly. She knew she would be talked into helping him with his plan. He had alwaysbeen able to do that even as a child. She had no desire to face the Shogun‟s wrath whenthe metsuke, the Edo spies, found out about the foreign woman‟s presence. “And how do you propose telling her that for the next year she will have to pretend she is Japanese?
Remember that she is a Christian. And you know yourself it will not be easy to deny herbeliefs.”
Yes, he knew; he‟d found her Bible in the trunk. He also knew Edo‟s views on the sect.
But he would not see her put to death, even if doing so should mean his own life. He would die for the same cause, and Michiko knew it.
“I know what you think I should do, Michiko.” He said now. “I know your fears. If you and Ryochi would like to leave, you know I won‟t stop you. But I would preferyou stay.”
Michiko thought about it. Her husband suffered with his lungs. It would be difficult to find other work. And what would they give as reason for leaving the Daimyo‟s household, especially one as benevolent as Fujito?
“You do as you see fit. But I really wish you‟d take my advice.”
Fujito stood and smiled at her. “Thank you.” Although they didn‟t see eye to eye, they were still friends.

Emerging from her room was to Katharine like being freed from a cocoon after a long hibernation.
Spring was approaching, and cherry trees were blossoming, spreading their beautiful fragrance. The sun began to rise earlier and earlier. Each day its eastern rays woke her.
Each day, too, Fujito would bring her breakfast tray and each day she would hope he would bring news of their departure for Hirado where she could board a ship to take her home; but it never came.
His manner was still formal, his emotions unreadable. He acted as if she were an inconvenience, an interruption of his plans.
One day he asked if she would like to see the garden. She dressed hurriedly to be ready for his return, afraid he might change his mind.
She answered the soft knock on the door frame.
“Ready?” He asked. His voice was emotionless, but his eyes registered his approval of how she looked.
She was disappointed that he had not said anything, but immediately thought angrily,
as if I needed your approval, Fujito-Sama
and followed him outside. To her eyes it was simple beauty contained in a comparatively small space. “Do you like it?” He asked.
“It‟s beautiful!” She exclaimed on a sigh.
There was shyness in his eyes, totally unexpected.
“Come.” He led the way through maple trees and over mossy stones to a small footbridge. As they crossed a fast flowing stream, she glimpsed white and orange fish glistening through the sun-dappled water.
“Koi.” He answered before she could ask. They walked along the tiny hills with water plants at the water‟s edge until they came to a wooden pier. He knelt and beckoned her to join him.
“I have something important to discuss with you.” He began slowly. This is it, Katharine thought. He‟s taking me to Hirado.
“I am afraid I will not be able to take you back to Hirado.”
The small smile at her lips evaporated when she heard the words.
She looked at him in disbelief. His eyes were sad; as if the events had changed his plans.
“Why not?”
“You remember I told you I went to visit the Factor to inform him of your presence here?”
Katharine nodded, unable to speak.
“He informed me that the ship you traveled on left for Macao two weeks ago and will not return for a year. So, I am afraid that you will have to remain here until then.
When it arrives you will be taken to Hirado and board the ship for home.” Her eyes filled with tears. “So I am your prisoner?” She asked through her sobs. “Please don‟t think of it that way.” He said gently. “You‟ll have the run of the garden, and your things; your music to occupy your time. Perhaps you would play for mesome time?” He smiled.
Vulnerable like this she was in fact quite beautiful. Her long black hair hung in soft waves to her waist, her eyes shielded by long-lashed lids.
She sensed he was trying to make her feel better and could tell by his words that it had not been his original plan to make her stay. It was not his fault; only fate had decreed she remain in this country.
“The Factor told you the ship would be back for certain in a year?” “Yes.”
“And he told you I could go back with them?”
“Yes. He told me he would send word immediately when the ship docked telling me its departure date.I must go now.” He stood. She stood with him. “But you are welcome to sit here as long as you wish. I can have Michiko call you for lunch.” He turned and walked away but stopped for a moment and came back to where she was still standing.
“I‟m very sorry, Katharine.” His voice was gentle, almost tender. He reached out a hand and brushed a tear from her cheek. Then he walked away, his back straight, as if he regretted his momentary lapse of control.
He stood on the hill above and watched her stoop down and drag a hand through the water.
He had been taken with her beauty when he had first found her three and a half months ago. Now that she had almost completely recovered, he found her also pleasing of personality, even if she was a little stubborn at times. But then, so was he. He smiled, then turned to walk toward the house. He did not know if there was such a thing as love at first sight, but the emotions that were churning within him now were a little more than mere fondness.
He could identify with how she felt. He had suffered much the same feelings when he had been elevated to Daimyo. He had not wanted the position; he would havebeen content in his apothecary‟s laboratory mixing herbs and powders for the sick. He had no desire to hold the lives of thousands of people in his hands or make daily life and death decisions that would make or break them.
As he walked back along the cobbled footpath he could not help thinking that if he‟d only gone to Hirado sooner perhaps he could have forestalled the ship‟s departure, at least until she had been strong enough to travel back with them. The Factor had told him the whole story. Katharine had hidden aboard the vessel and had not been discovered until the night of the storm that had washed her up on the beach. She had, evidently thought it was the Mary Haven she was boarding. But that ship had left that afternoon and instead she hid on the Spanish Queen bound for the Japans and Macao.
Why had she felt the need to escape her homeland? What had made staying so detestable that she would risk death to get away? He did not wish to consider what would have surely happened if he had not been on the beach when she had been washed ashore by the tide.
As he considered it now, her beauty would facilitate his plan. Although her hair was wavy it was the right color and could be styled so as not to draw attention. Her eyes were brown and almond shaped and with a little makeup could appear oriental. She was alittle on the tall side but at 5‟9, he was taller than his peers. It was not until later that evening that he told her of the rest of the plan. “You want me to what? Are you out of your mind?”
“No.” He eyed her seriously. “You look very much like us already.” He smiled. “With Michiko‟s expert hand at applying your make up you will have no problems withyour appearance.”
“And what do I do about talking? I suppose you want me to remain mute?” He laughed aloud. “I had thought of it. But I don‟t think it would work. No. I will teach you our language.”
“It could take a long time.” She pointed out. The sound of his laughter did something to her senses and she strove for the return of inner calmness. “Perhaps.” He acknowledged with a smile. “But you are a very bright woman. I am sure you will pick it up very quickly”
Katharine knew she was blushing at the complement and it annoyed her. She lowered her eyes and heard his deep chuckle.
“Lessons will begin tomorrow morning after breakfast, Katsuko.”
“Katsuko?”
“Yes. It will be your name from now on.” He told her. You‟ll get used to it.” He smiled. “Tonight Michiko will show you how to have a bath.”
“I believe I can bathe quite well on my own, thank you.”
“Not in the O-furo.” He said, unoffended at her attempt at haughtiness. After the evening meal he explained to her that in Japan one soaped and rinsed first so that no suds would be taken into the deep, round barrel tub they used for soaking.
Then he went out to the veranda, leaving the women alone.
“Imperious twit.” Katharine muttered under her breath as he left. Had she heard him laugh quietly as he stepped outside, she wondered as she followed the older woman to the bathhouse at the back of the complex.
Later he came in to get his flute. He was the only one in the house to hear her scream.
He ran down the corridor and unceremoniously flung open the door. She jumped halfway out of the tub on seeing him and not the servant woman; blistering water splashed over her making the pain worse.
“What is it? What‟s all the commotion?” The last thing he needed was for her to be discovered.
Suddenly his fear and anger dissolved when he saw the young, defenseless woman, half-standing half sitting in the tub of steaming water. He should have warned her. Of course, the water would be scalding hot against her skin; she was not used to the high temperature to which the water had been heated. “Sit still.” He told her. “Relax.” He added in a softer tone. “Let your body get used to it. The more you move around the more pain it will cause.” “What are you doing here?” She asked.
There was no towel within reach. The only way to regain her composure and a semblance of modesty was to do as he said and cover herself with the water. “Your servant did this.” She shot at him. “She hates me. In fact, the more I think about it, you probably told her to heat that water so high.”
“I assure you I didn‟t, although you probably won‟t believe me. But to satisfy myself I shall ask Michiko. If she has done this, she will answer for it. Finish your bath.” He commanded and strode out of the room.
She hated this place, and the man who was keeping her here. Its beauty was deceptive. Behind its subtle charm, its men were poisonous, as sharp as adder‟s tongues.
He found Michiko tending her orchids.
“Fujito Sama.” She turned. “Komban wa. Good evening.”
“Komban wa.” He answered stiffly. “Michiko?” He asked.
She turned from her work to look him in the eye.
“Lady Davenport has the idea you deliberately overheated the water. Did you?” “Of course not. If she cannot stand the heat perhaps she shouldn‟t be here.” Her eyes flashed controlled fire.
“Thank you.” He smiled. He knew she would have liked to do just what he had accused her of, but he also knew she respected him enough not to hurt those whom he had placed under his protection.
Twenty minutes later Katharine stood up and painfully climbed out of the tub. Her skin was red and pruned; she was sure she would blister.
Slowly, achingly, she lifted the kimono from the stool beside the bath and painfully placed it around her
,
with scorching fingers she tied the narrow obi around her waist.
The smooth cotton was cool against her burning skin. Silently, on scorched feet, she made her way to her bedroom where, sure she wouldn‟t be heard she lay on the futon and cried tears of bitterness, full of misery and shame. To have him catch her in a compromising position of undress was more than she could bear. She didn‟t hear the door slide open a few moments later. Fujito‟s bare feet made no sound on the tatami matting as he came to kneel beside her.
“Are you all right?” He asked gently. “I should have warned you. I‟m sorry.” The apology was for both the water and for barging in without identifying himself. “Oh yes.” She glared at him through her tears. “It‟s all very well saying you‟re sorry now, now that you‟ve embarrassed me to the heavens. All I want to do is go home.I never asked to be boiled like a lobster.”
He only just kept himself from chuckling, but couldn‟t stop a slow smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let me see.” When she pulled back he reminded hergently, “I‟m a doctor, remember?”
She allowed him to look at her reddened skin.
“I asked Michiko about the water.” He said rolling the sleeve of her kimono gently up past her elbow. “She assures me she didn‟t heat the water too hot.” There was a short pause as he examined her shoulders and then her legs.
“You will be fine in a few days. I‟ll make up a salve for you.” He rearranged her kimono. “I know it‟s difficult for you, Katsuko, Katharine.” He said more gently. “Everything is new and different and hard to get used to. Our bodies are accustomed tothe hot water from childhood so of course I didn‟t think that you would be hurt by it.Please forgive me?”
His humble request took her by surprise.“Yes, of course.”
“ Come and have some tea. It will make you feel better.” He smiled. Unexpectedly he leaned forward and hooked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. His finger just brushed her cheek. It felt like a flame had scorched her skin. The following morning Fujito told her to follow him outside for her first lesson in Japanese.
“I feel as if every piece of skin I have has been burned to a cinder.” She complained kneeling awkwardly.
“I noticed you were moving a little stiffly this morning.” He agreed, smiling. “Why don‟t you sit comfortably for you and forget convention this morning?” He suggested kindly. She accepted with relief.
He got to his feet in one fluid movement and went back into the house, returning a few moments later with a stone jar. Then kneeling he examined her blisters. Scooping some of the ointment out with the fingers of one hand, he pulled her kimono down at the back to reveal her neck and shoulders with the other. She felt the coolness against her skin and the gentle movement of his hand as he spread it over her parched skin.
“Ahhh.”
She heard his low chuckle. “Better?” He asked close to her ear.
“Considerably. Thank you.” She kept her voice calm even as her heart beat rapidly at his closeness.
Once the ministration was concluded, the lessons began.
“You‟ve heard me talking to my servants. Are there any words you‟ve wondered about?”
“Those were words? I thought they were guttural noises.” She was immediately sorry for her words but instead of being angry, Fujito laughed.
“I suppose they would sound like that to the untrained ear. Well then, let‟s begin with this.” He picked up a book in which he‟d written in both English letters and Japanese script. He moved closer so that she could see.
“This is the first word you were awake enough to hear.” He smiled. “Taberu. You remember?” Katharine nodded. He was close enough for her to catch the musky scent of his cologne but she could see no pomander at his waist, as there would be at home.
“Taberu, to eat. Tabemasu, eat. Tabete imasu, eating. Tabemashita, eaten. Now, repeat with me.” When they‟d said the phrases together, he smiled. “Excellent. Now in the negative— Tabemasen, don‟t eat. Tabete imasen, not eating. Tabemasen deshita, didnot eat.” They repeated these together and Fujito smiled, pleased that his estimation of her being a quick scholar had been correct. Then he wrote the words in script and told her it was called hiragana and the English letters Romanji. “But we will learn written later. For right now speaking thelanguage is more important.”
She nodded her understanding.
“ I understand, is wakarimasu.” He smiled.
“Wakarimasu.” She repeated.
“I don‟t understand—wakarimasen.”
“Wakarimasen.”
When the lesson was over, he invited her to walk in the garden. He kept his pace slow for her benefit and for this, she was grateful.
“Do you have gardens in England, Katsuko?” He asked suddenly.
“Yes. Many, but none as beautiful as this.” She said sincerely. “Our gardens are mainly huge parks where wild animals live Many noblemen keep them only for hunting.
It is at times like that when I thank God that I was not born a man. I could never hunt something as exquisite as a deer.”