The corridor was silent but for the flutter of fans. The heat was more intense than ever. Sachi wriggled uncomfortably, feeling her heavy garments clinging to her damp skin. She bowed her head, listening fearfully for the princess’s reply.
As one who ‘lived above the clouds’ – she was, after all, the daughter of the late Son of Heaven and sister of the reigning one – Princess Kazu expected the deference due to her superior status. She never forgot for a moment that she had given up the gracious life she had enjoyed at the imperial court in Kyoto to descend to the level of these low-class commoners. Yet, far from behaving with proper respect and showing her appreciation for the princess’s sacrifice, the Retired One took every opportunity to assert her own pre-eminence. As the widow of the previous shogun and adoptive mother of the present one, the Retired One had been the undisputed power in the palace before the princess arrived and was determined to maintain her authority.
In the privacy of the princess’s apartments the aristocratic ladies who had accompanied Princess Kazu from the capital had nothing but contempt for the Retired One and her handwomen. They were unpolished, not to say downright vulgar, they whispered. How dared they treat the princess with such disrespect? And as for their samurai way of dressing and speaking and comporting themselves – well, it would be pitiable if it wasn’t so laughable. When the princess’s ladies met the Retired One’s in the corridors, they would sweep past, barely bothering with a disdainful nod of the head. But among their maids there was frequent bickering. Voices were raised and they had even been known to start scratching, pinching, biting and tearing at each other’s hair and clothes.
The two great ladies did their best to steer clear of each other. Nevertheless sometimes matters came to a head. The princess was far too proud and gently bred to stand up for herself, but Sachi knew what pain these encounters caused her.
When she had first arrived at the castle, the princess had insisted on speaking the archaic dialect of the imperial court. That was the idiom that Sachi had first been taught. Indeed, the princess had expected that everyone in the women’s palace would adopt the Kyoto language and customs; that had been one of the conditions of her marriage. But in that as in much else she had been disappointed.
Now, instead of saying ‘I thank thee for thy kindness’ in her Kyoto drawl, as she would once have done, she whispered, ‘I am indebted to you, Honourable Retired One.’ She had a high-pitched, breathy little voice, like a bird.
For several minutes they traded compliments, each outdoing the other in the floweriness of their language and the extravagance of their flattery. Then the Retired One drew herself up.
‘Once again I offer you my most sincere thanks, Your Imperial Highness, for taking such good care of His Majesty, my adopted son,’ she said, looking straight at the princess and drawing her lips back in the sweetest, most poisonous of smiles. ‘But I am embarrassed to see that the ushers have made their usual mistake. As always they have erroneously seated you in my position. You appreciate that, as your mother-in-law and the first lady of this household, I must be the first to welcome my son into his home. I’m sure you will be eager to join me in rectifying the error.’
There was silence. Everyone held their breath. Princess Kazu kept her eyes on the ground, chewing her lip.
‘On the contrary, I should express my gratitude to you, My Lady Tensho-in,’ she murmured with icy politeness. ‘I am delighted to see you. But you know rather well that as the representative of the Son of Heaven and His Majesty’s humble consort, I am obliged, unworthy though I am, to take precedence. I hope you would be so kind as to allow me to remain in my proper place, at least this one time.’
‘We have had this discussion many times before, Daughter-in-Law,’ said the Retired One smoothly, her black eyes sparking fire. ‘You speak of tradition and of established ways of doing things. But you forget that we are in Edo Castle. Here in Edo we have our own traditions and our own ways of doing things, which were established by the first shogun, His Revered Majesty Lord Ieyasu, and which have held good for centuries. You know very well that I am the widow of His Majesty the thirteenth shogun, Lord Iesada. As your mother-in-law I am aghast that you could even think of going against my will. You insist on retaining your quaint title and provincial hairstyle and way of dressing. That is all very well. But when we are forced to meet, you must behave with appropriate respect.’
Sachi quivered with horror, feeling the princess’s humiliation as if it were her own. Princess Kazu said no more but shuffled back and knelt on the floor, while the Retired One took her place on the cushion.
II
The bells at the end of the corridor jangled. The thin, tinny sound was still reverberating when four drumbeats echoed one after the other from the ramparts of the castle, marking the hour. The elders and ushers, the ladies-in-waiting and grizzled lady priests prostrated themselves on each side of the door.
Sachi too was on her knees, staring at the tatami. She heard the screech of iron bolts being drawn through their hafts and the groan of the great door sliding open. There was a long silence followed by the muffled clank of steel. Among the babble of voices was the unfamiliar timbre of a male voice, the first Sachi had heard for nearly four years. Along with the patter of female feet and the swish of silk came the sound of soft-shod feet moving across the tatami mats with a jaunty male tread and the scent of an exotic and complex perfume. Time passed with painful slowness. The voice and the scent grew nearer. The chatter of compliments, of talking and laughter grew closer. Little by little the firm male footsteps advanced. Then they stopped, right in front of her.
‘And this is she?’ enquired the voice. The words sounded strange and archaic. Sachi had never before heard the formal terminology that only the shogun could use and it was with an effort that she worked out what he had said.
‘Look up, child,’ hissed Lady Tsuguko, the princess’s chief lady-in-waiting, who was kneeling right behind her. ‘Greet His Majesty!’
Sachi raised her head just enough to see a pair of white silk stockings. Then for a second she glanced up. She found herself looking straight into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. Quickly she lowered her face, so hot with confusion that the tips of her ears were burning.
There was a long silence.
‘What is her name?’ asked the voice.
A murmur like the wind rustling a field of summer grasses rippled along the corridor. Lady Tsuguko laughed, a silvery tinkle of laughter.
‘Sire, this humble child is Yuri, of the house of Sugi, bannermen to the daimyo of Ogaki,’ she said, using Sachi’s official name. ‘She is under my protection.’
Sachi was still trembling long after the footsteps and the scent had faded away and she had heard the doors to the shogun’s private apartments slide open and shut again.
In silence she followed the ladies-in-waiting back to the princess’s suite, her thoughts whirling. She had broken the cardinal rule. She had raised her face to a being even higher than the elders, or Lady Tsuguko or the Retired One – to His Majesty the shogun, who was closer to a god than a man. Princess Kazu, of course, was of a higher rank even than he. But that was different. Sachi belonged to the princess. The princess had chosen her and kept her close to her. Had she misunderstood? Surely Lady Tsuguko had not intended her to commit such a breach of protocol?
Stranger still, His Majesty was young. She had always assumed that someone so powerful and all-knowing that he could never be seen by ordinary mortals must be old, gruff and fearsome
And then there was Fuyu. Why had she been there, and in such showy finery? It was all too confusing. Padding along one corridor after another with bird-like steps, her shoulders modestly rounded as she had been taught, Sachi felt suffocated by all the rules and protocol. If only she could throw off the swathes of fabric and run, skip and jump as she used to. She had to talk to Taki, her friend. She understood everything; she would know the answers.
Lady Tsuguko too kept silence until they reached the p
rincess’s apartments. There she swept Sachi behind the screens and made her kneel, facing her.
‘Well, my dear,’ she said. ‘What a lucky girl you are!’ She was positively beaming with delight. Sachi had never before seen her behave with anything other than grandeur and haughty condescension.
‘You have done very, very well. Your parents will be proud of you.’
Quite forgetting her training, Sachi stared at her, dumbfounded.
‘It seems His Majesty has accepted Her Highness’s offer. Of course the arrangements must be made in the proper way. His Majesty has made his wish known, as you heard, and Her Highness has given her permission. The letter will be drafted and sent to His Majesty’s emissary immediately. Come to me this evening when the sun begins to set and I will instruct you and prepare you.’
‘Prepare me? For what?’
‘The innocence of the child,’ said Lady Tsuguko, laughing softly. ‘You have been promoted to a maid of middle rank. At His Majesty’s request Her Highness is presenting you to him as her farewell gift, as a concubine for him.’
A concubine! Sachi bowed her face to the tatami.
‘I am not worthy of such an honour,’ she stammered. Then, as she began to grasp the full meaning of the words, she gasped with shock.
‘Madam . . . Your ladyship . . . This is too great an honour. Her Highness has always been far kinder to me than I deserve. I have no greater ambition than to serve Her Highness.’ The words came tumbling out. ‘Please choose someone else. Not me, your lady-ship. Please don’t make me. I’m sure I won’t do it right. I won’t know what to do. I’m not ready. I know nothing, your ladyship. I know nothing at all.’
‘Child! Do not presume to question our decision,’ said Lady Tsuguko sharply. Then her voice softened. ‘I know you are young still and know nothing of the world. But even you must understand that this is the greatest honour and the greatest opportunity any girl could ever have, particularly a girl of your background. Everything has happened very fast. I have not had time to teach you everything you need to know. But that is good. Your innocence is your charm. His Majesty leaves for Osaka tomorrow, so we will postpone the formal ceremonies of union until his return. If only you can please His Majesty, your foot will be firmly set on the lintel of the jewelled palanquin. Believe me, you will never have a chance like this again.
‘We are depending on you,’ she added, her voice stern. ‘You will go to His Majesty tonight.’
Sachi was still kneeling in a daze when there was a commotion at the door. It was the Retired One. She had never before come anywhere near the princess’s apartments. There was a flurry of silk as the ladies-in-waiting fell to their knees. The next moment she had appeared behind the screens. Her beautiful face was frozen except for a vein that throbbed in her temple. She faced Lady Tsuguko.
‘Well,’ she said, drawing herself up imperiously. ‘You must be proud of yourself. You have done very well, you and that mistress of yours, foisting this creature – this foundling – on my son!’
Lady Tsuguko was on her knees. Looking up, she lifted her eyebrows and wrinkled her forehead in an expression of mock humility.
‘What a surprise!’ she said. ‘We are most honoured, my lady, that you grace our humble quarters with your esteemed presence. Thank you so much for your congratulations. I have no need to remind you, of course, that Lady Yuri is the adopted daughter of the house of Sugi, bannermen to the daimyo of Ogaki.’
‘Jumped up she may be but we all know where she comes from,’ snapped the Retired One, the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘She is an animal, an illiterate bumpkin. We saw her when you brought her here. She could not even speak like a human being.’
‘Calm yourself, my lady. Your ladyship knows very well that we have been desperately searching for a concubine to provide His Majesty with a son. You too have been concerned about that. It would be the worse for all of us if the regent, Lord Yoshinobu, were in a position to take power. Several times we have set the selection process under way, but His Majesty has rejected every lady-in-waiting we have assigned him. Nevertheless,’ Lady Tsuguko continued smoothly, ‘for some reason this humble girl has taken his fancy. We should thank the gods.’
‘You bring disgrace on the House of Tokugawa,’ spat the Retired One.
‘I’m sure you have not forgotten, my lady, that the Lady Tama, the mother of the fifth shogun and the beloved consort of the third shogun, Lord Iemitsu, began life as a grocer’s daughter, too lowly even to enter His Majesty’s presence.’ Lady Tsuguko’s voice was sugary. ‘She was, you will remember, an attendant delegated to assist with His Majesty’s bath when she caught his august fancy. The sixth shogun, Lord Ienobu, was the child of a commoner so lowly that she could not even be granted the status of an official concubine. His Majesty, if I may take the liberty of reminding you, had to be reared in secret by a retainer. Then there was the Lady Raku, the mother of the fourth shogun. Let me think now. Was her father not a seller of second-hand clothes?’
‘Enough, enough!’
‘In any case it is nothing to do with us, my lady. You were present when His Majesty himself chose not your candidate but ours.’
‘He is a boy,’ hissed the Retired One. ‘He knows nothing. You have bewitched him.’
‘You know very well too that it is Her Highness’s prerogative to offer His Majesty a concubine as a gift. You see, you have no reason at all to complain.’ She placed her hands on the fragrant rice-straw matting, fingers together, the tips of her forefingers touching.
‘Thank you so much for deigning to visit us,’ she said with an air of finality, touching her forehead to her hands.
‘And you have trained her, have you, in the arts of the bedchamber? I think not. The creature is a yokel. She will not last long!’ With that the Retired One flung out of the room.
When the door had closed and the swish of her footsteps had faded away, Lady Tsuguko turned to Sachi, her aristocratic features crumpling with concern.
‘Such cruel and unconsidered words!’ she said. Sachi had never heard her speak with such feeling before. ‘We are all expected to show deference to Lady Tensho-in but she takes her due too far. This one time she has lost the battle. Don’t be sad, my dear. Put her mean-spirited envy out of your mind. The first time Her Highness saw you, she knew you did not belong there, in that rustic place. She knew your destiny was different, that you belonged with us. His Majesty is young and gently bred, not interested in playing with women. Lady Tensho-in and the elders assigned him many beautiful ladies of noble blood, well coached in the arts of coquetry, but he rejected them all. Her Highness knows him well. She knew that you, with your lovely face and pure heart, would be to his taste. Don’t be afraid. Her Highness and I have full faith in you.
‘But beware. Until tonight, stay here in the royal chambers. Who knows what jealousy may drive a woman to do?’
Sachi was still on her knees. She had been the target of barbs as savage as the Retired One’s many times before. The women’s palace, she had learned, was a slippery place where women would smile, then utter words that cut like a dagger twisted in your belly. No matter that she had been officially adopted by a samurai family, everyone knew where she came from. Many of the princess’s ladies and the ladies from the women’s palace too had been there when Her Highness had seen her and taken a fancy to her. To them she was a wild thing, an animal that the princess had inexplicably adopted as a pet. Even though she had learned their language, their walk and their manners, even though she moved among them every day, their world would always be closed to her. They were kind to her as one is kind to a dog.
She was still too numb to take the slurs to heart. The words that echoed in her mind were not the Retired One’s but Lady Tsuguko’s. ‘Your lovely face and pure heart’ . . . That was not how she saw herself at all.
If only she could see Her Highness. Was this why she had taken her from the village and lifted her to these heights? Was it to perform this service for her? She was sure ther
e must be one last thing she needed to know that would make it all clear. But the princess did not return.
Nevertheless, she understood her duty. No matter what happened, she would serve Her Highness to the best of her ability. She was ready for whatever the gods might have in store for her.
III
Sachi went to the room where she slept with the other maids and took off her formal kimono, laying it carefully over a kimono rack. Numbly she put on her maid’s robes, took up her sewing and settled on her knees in a corner. She sat staring blankly in front of her, her needlework untouched in her lap. Then footsteps came skidding along the wooden corridor outside. The door flew open and a girl burst in, her face wreathed in smiles. It was Taki.
‘Did you see him?’ she demanded. She had a voice like a mouse’s squeak.
Taki was from Kyoto, the daughter of an impoverished samurai who was a retainer of one of the princess’s ladies-in-waiting, Lady Kin. Lady Kin had taken her into service when she was twelve and brought her to Edo. She and Sachi had entered the castle at the same time.
Taki was not beautiful – in fact she was rather plain. She had a thin, pale face, scarred with smallpox, and protruding teeth that made her look a little like a rabbit. When Sachi arrived, the junior maids, especially the Edo girls who had lived in the castle for some time, had bullied her mercilessly, imitating her accent and sneering when she made mistakes of etiquette. Taki always took her side, defended her fiercely and helped her learn the proper way to speak and behave. They had become firm friends even though Taki was of much higher birth.
Taki was jumping up and down, clapping her hands.
‘Everyone’s talking about it,’ she cried. ‘Everyone’s jealous. You’re to be the new concubine! But tell me, did you take a peep? What does he look like? Is he young? Is he old? Is he handsome? I’ve heard he’s young and handsome.’
The Last Concubine Page 5
