Now, she rode proudly next to a fine gentleman, seated with dignity in a new carriage. She wore a gown finer than any she had ever hoped to own. For this privilege, she would have followed Hiro anywhere, but the knowledge that she was entering her new marriage filled her with anticipation.
The ride back to the farm was smooth and uneventful, but Hanako barely remembered any of it. She spent the entire journey thinking about how different her life would be.
The horse would make the field work much more efficient. The cow she had purchased earlier could now graze peacefully, producing milk.
As they came closer to the home she would share with Hiro, she gasped and cried out in excitement. In the pasture, where before a lone cow grazed, a bull and two goats now shared the space. Her ecstatic reaction melted into confusion. Where had these animals come from?
"The new animals are a wedding gift from some of the merchants in the village," he told her.
"A wedding gift? Why would anyone give us such extravagant gifts?"
"I have assured them they would receive our business once our resources are combined," he explained.
He drove the cart up to the house, climbed down, and walked around to assist her out. She went inside as he took care of the horse and cart.
Up until now, she had only allowed herself to enter the kitchen and dining area. But now this was her home. With tentative steps, she explored the rest of the house. New tatami floors covered every surface. No more hard, wooden floors. She slid open the screens to the living area and gasped.
She had never dreamed she would live in a home like this. Beautiful lacquered tables, plush silk floor pillows, and lovely painted screens graced one room. She went through, marveling at Hiro's good taste. There were several more rooms, each with large closets storing thick futons and bedding. This must be where the new samurai had stayed. She wondered where they were tonight. Should she begin preparing a meal for them?
"Do you find everything to your liking?" Hiro's voice startled her.
"Oh! Everything is so wonderful! The rooms are so large! And there are so many!"
"We will need rooms for our children to grow."
****
Hanako's quick intake of breath and heightened color told Hiro she had not forgotten one of the reasons for their marriage. While he looked forward to being a father, he was even more eager to begin his life as a husband. Slowly, he approached her. She lifted her lashes until their eyes met and held. Now that the time for consummating their marriage was at hand, he was thankful for her reluctance to don the full traditional wedding costume. The many layers of clothing would take so much longer to remove, and right now he was burning with anticipation.
Rather than a large, ornate wig and head covering, her hair had been arranged in a simple knot at the nape of her neck and held in place with the pair of inlaid combs. He reached over to pull them out, wondering if they been a gift from her first husband. But then he chided himself for resorting to jealous thoughts on his wedding day. No matter what had happened between this woman and Kenji, she was his now. The combs came away, and he watched her thick raven tresses tumble down, covering her like a waist-length cape.
The silk kimono was held in place by a brocade obi, tied in a knot at her back. Again, he was grateful for his wife's simple style. She had foregone many of the traditional ornaments and ties that usually adorned the obi. Never taking his eyes from hers, he reached behind her and pulled down on the ends of the sash, releasing the ends and letting the front panels of her kimono gape open. In a moment, the white and lavender silk lay in a pool at her feet. A layer of cotton remained, and Hiro felt like a child, opening a specially wrapped gift. The undergarment was tied with a plain cotton rope, and this presented a greater challenge. Hiro was ready to tear the garment apart when the knot finally unraveled, and the fabric floated to the floor.
He had often imagined her like this, late at night, as he tried to sleep knowing she was only a short walk away. His mind's eye had constructed the creaminess of her skin, the smooth curve of her body, the warmth of her smile. But the vision before him surpassed all of his dreams. This woman had been created especially for him, and he alone would have the right to cherish her from now to eternity. He would not ever take this right for granted.
Moments passed as he simply drank in the sight of her. She stared back, her lips curved upward in a secret smile. Finally, raw need overcame the awe, and he reached for her.
Chapter Fourteen
Hiro closed the door to the barn, satisfied the animals were settled in for the night. He trudged back to the house, shivering in the cold. Having spent most of his life in the south, he wasn't used to the harsh northern winter. It was no wonder Hanako bundled up in several layers of clothing before going outside.
But now that the day's chores were done, he could relax in the warmth of his home. And that warmth now included a lovely wife who waited for him. He smiled to himself. Married life suited him well.
He had been surprised at the amount of work to be done even when there were no crops in the field. The animals had to be fed and tended to, and there was much preparation for the coming year. Hanako had taught him how to make rope from rice straw, and the Nakamura brothers had taught him how to do some simple woodworking. He took great pride in making things with his hands.
A visit to the bookshop ensured he had plenty to read, and thanks to a successful harvest, there was plenty of food. He had everything he needed.
The books he chose were about farming, and more than half of them were about flowers. Hanako's gardens had intrigued him. She grew a great variety of flowers, some blossoming early in the summer, others later on. He wanted to know more about them. Something about the beauty of a single blossom spoke to him. He had learned a little bit about hanakotoba, the language of flowers. Next year, he vowed, he would plant a garden with a wonderful message. He could hardly wait.
He found Hanako kneeling by the light of the fire, weaving strands of rope into a type of net. The woman was always busy doing something. She wouldn't know how to rest. But at least she wasn't as weary as when he had first met her. She looked healthier, more alive. She could sit down each night to a nutritious meal. And she didn't have the burden of heavy work. She would never know that kind of hardship ever again, he vowed.
"What are you making?" he asked.
She smiled up at him. "It's something to help you get through the snow. I'll have one of these done in a few minutes, and then I'll show you."
She worked quickly, her hands deftly tying knots in the ropes. Suddenly they stopped, and she looked up at him.
"Would you like me to get you some tea?"
Hiro laughed. "I am perfectly capable of getting my own tea, thank you. But right now I want to watch you. I want to see how this rope of yours is going to help me walk through the snow."
She grinned impishly at him. "Surely you have read about these in one of your many books!"
"Perhaps I have. But I must have forgotten. Or maybe you don't have enough of it finished so I can tell what you are making."
She made a face at him but continued her weaving. She had already bent two narrow bamboo stalks into circles and tied the ends together with leather string. These were soaking in a tub of water. After she was done with the weaving, she took the circles out of the water and fastened one net inside each and attached more strands. They looked like large spider webs.
She held them out to him. "All finished." she exclaimed.
Hiro took one and inspected it. "I've never seen anything like this," he admitted. "What is it?"
"These are kanjiki — snowshoes," she explained. "When the snow gets deeper, it's difficult to walk through it. These will help you to walk on top of it."
Hiro frowned at the simple devices. "Are you sure these would hold a man of my height and weight on top of the snow?"
"Well, you would sink a little, of course, but not as deeply as you would without them. I'm going to make a pair for myself, and we'
ll use them when we do our chores tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes, we're going to get lots of snow tonight. Tomorrow when the sun comes up, it will be deep, so we'll need these to get to the barn."
"How do you know that?"
"I read the sky."
"How—"
"My father taught me," she told him simply.
Hiro closed his mouth. There were some things one could not learn through books.
****
The next night, Hiro read with light from a lantern. Hanako had gone to bed early, but he wanted to absorb all the news from Tokyo he could find. A recently arrived ex-samurai had brought an issue of a new publication from Yokohama called the Daily News and had given it to Hiro. The newcomer had told Hiro that a new issue of this publication came out every day, filled with domestic as well as foreign news. This was a new development. In the past, large newspapers like this were owned by foreigners and reflected European concerns. He read, fascinated by the news of the new government. It seemed Emperor Meiji was determined to make Japan an international power and embraced the knowledge and skills of the Western nations. Hiro nodded in approval.
Turning the page, Hiro's eyes suddenly zeroed in on the one name that made his blood run cold. Hideyori Kato. He sat up and pulled the paper close. Was the man on his way north? Would the former daimyo and his followers pose the next threat to this village?
Hiro quickly scanned the article. Apparently Kato-san had tried to form an alliance with other former daimyo, working toward the goal of overthrowing the Meiji government and restoring the former feudal system. But the others had soon seen the futility of his cause and abandoned him. Now, the Imperial Palace had received word of his plans and was looking for him, intending to charge him with treason. But he had disappeared.
Kato-san was now an outlaw, a refugee. Where had he gone? Was he alone, or was he leading a dangerous band of ronin? Was he the person the local ronin had been awaiting? He was an evil man. Until there was no doubt that he was eliminated, the militia had to keep going for the protection of the villagers.
The village now counted six former samurai among their residents, but they were spread out. Watanabe-san now lived west of the village on land the Nakamuras had provided, learning the farming trade with the brothers. The new samurai, Yoshimori-san, lived with a farmer north of the village. Fukazawa and Kobayashi stayed in the village. The villagers embraced all the newcomers heartily, bringing them gifts of food and other tokens of their appreciation.
With nightfall coming earlier in the winter, evening fighting drills stopped. Hiro convinced the men to stay fit by exercising.
"You must work to keep your reflexes and your muscles strong," he insisted. He proposed a compromise. Instead of the outdoor drills, he invited the men to one of the large open rooms inside his home to practice the art of kendo. Using long wooden sticks, he taught the basic sword techniques. Most of them would come once or twice a week, but some, like the Nakamura brothers, came more often. Hiro was impressed at the dedication of these brothers. Even the youngest, Yoshiro, worked with a fierce determination.
Since travel was often difficult in the harsh winter weather, Watanabe, Yoshimori, and the two soldiers in the village held their own sessions at their locations. People were encouraged to go to one of them whenever they could.
Families were reminded to keep their flares in a convenient place so they could be used at the first sight of any rogue soldiers. The Nakamura family provided extra flares for families living farther away from the village.
Hiro just prayed any warning would come soon enough.
****
When he wasn't teaching villagers to fight or working on the farm, Hiro studied. Agriculture was a fascinating science. It was so amazing, how something as tiny as a seed could grow into a plant, providing food and nourishment for people and animals. On a visit to Sapporo, he had found an interesting book on flowers. He told Hanako about an idea for growing some of the plants he read about.
"Why would you want to do that?" Hanako asked, looking up from her sewing. Her distraction caused her to prick her finger, and a red stain grew on the white fabric. She sighed. The Widow Nakamura had just shown her how to make these pretty stitches, and she was eager to decorate her new home with things she had made herself. If the stain didn't wash off, she would have to start her project over.
Hiro, reading by the light of another lamp, waved a hand at the book he read.
"It says here the soil in this part of the island is good for growing flowers. I'd like to expand the flower garden and try out several different kinds."
"Flowers are pretty, but you can't eat them."
"Some flowers can be eaten. But I want to try some of these techniques. There is an article here about rotating crops. Certain kinds of plants actually put minerals back in the soil, so the earth doesn't get worn out from having the same plants grown year after year. And it says here that certain flowers can help your vegetables by keeping pests away. I'd like to try that out here." He looked up and gazed directly into her eyes. "If it's all right with you."
She opened her mouth to remind him the land was legally his now, but found she was intrigued by his choice of words. He was still giving her the right to object if she had misgivings about his plan. The thought filled her with happiness.
She nodded her assent. "It sounds reasonable to try out this procedure on a small scale. Tell me more about it."
Listening to her husband's animated voice, she marveled at the difference a year had made. Last winter, she had been huddled alone in her tiny hut, struggling to keep warm. Now, her immediate concerns were getting her stitches even, and wondering how to keep her husband from digging up her entire vegetable farm to plant flowers.
Six months ago, she had been afraid of the changes marriage would bring. Now she wondered why she had ever hesitated.
Chapter Fifteen
Spring finally arrived, and the farm bustled with activity. This year, many more varieties of vegetables were sown, and as Hiro suggested, several plots were dedicated to flowers. Near the house, Hiro had planted a few rose bushes. By mutual accord, Hanako tended the bushes on one side, and Hiro used his book-based knowledge to tend to the plants on the other side. It became a contest to see which plants would produce the biggest and healthiest flowers.
He carefully pruned the rose bush, unsuccessfully avoiding the sharp thorns. The new journal had recommended that he trim the plant from the bottom up. His hands and arms bled, but he was determined his bushes would surpass his wife's. It was research over experience. Surely the experts would know more than even his wife knew.
The pruned branches held some lovely blossoms, and he placed them into a bowl of water. It would be a shame to let the flowers die with the discarded stems. Perhaps Hanako would enjoy them.
Another sharp point pierced his skin. He had to stop daydreaming while working on these vicious plants! The drops of blood fell on some of the white blossoms in the bowl, coloring them with a ribbon of red. What a beautiful pattern, he thought. Recently, he'd read an article about breeding flowers so the colors would be combined. Perhaps that would be a project for the future.
He couldn't wait to talk to Hanako tonight. A traveling merchant had seen the flower beds from the road that afternoon and had stopped to ask Hiro to sell him several bunches of an assortment of flowers to resell at the market. He had never thought about profiting from the plants; they had simply been a source of pleasure to him. The flowerbeds had grown as he discovered more and more varieties of beautiful fragrant blossoms, until the house was surrounded by a profusion of color and greenery. He had never before felt the peace he found walking through his garden. But the price offered had been so substantial, Hiro had sold the flowers to him. The merchant had then promised to return the following week for more.
Hiro bristled with excitement, wanting to share the good news with Hanako. Brimming with energy, he began preparations for the evening meal, wanting to talk wi
th her as soon as she came in. Shadows appeared and lengthened, and worry replaced the excitement. Had she had encountered some difficulty in the field? He decided to look for her.
Fortunately, the crops Hanako cultivated were the short variety. It shouldn't be hard to locate her. And since her farm was relatively small, he didn't have far to go. But looking out over the fields of cucumbers, radishes, and beans, he couldn't make out her familiar form. His worry increased as he ran through each section, calling her name. Finally, at the end of a row of bean plants, he saw a blue heap among the green leaves. She had donned a new blue yukata that morning, complaining the older one she usually wore in the fields needed mending. Hiro hurried through the patch, his heart lodging more firmly in his throat with each step. Carefully, he lifted her head and shoulders as he pleaded with her to open her eyes. Her lids fluttered open then softly closed as she moaned.
He thanked the gods she was still breathing as he lifted her gently and hurried back to their home. His powerful legs moved with all the speed he could muster, but they weren't fast enough to suit him. He screamed to Ginjiro for help and was relieved to see his friend appear in the doorway of his own hut.
Ginjiro assessed the situation quickly and ran to the house where he rolled out the futon. Hiro settled her down gently, and bathed her face with some cool water. Finally, her brown eyes opened, and she stared at him with the fuzziness of confusion. Frantic with worry, he forced her to sip some of the water.
Somehow in his distress, he thought to ask Ginjiro to run to the Widow Nakamura's home. Hopefully, she would know what to do for her.
Reiko arrived quickly and asked to speak to Hanako privately. Although Hiro didn't want to let Hanako out of his sight, he grudgingly left the room. He paced, nearly wearing a path in the tatami floor. He wanted answers, and they were excruciatingly slow in coming. Hiro was about to stomp in frustration when Reiko finally came out. He met her with a barrage of questions, but she stared at him intently, effectively silencing him. She then uttered the few words that made Hiro's world spin.
The Samurai's Garden Page 12
