by Walt Mussell
Nobuhiro and his brother chatted nearby. Their conversation must have ended with a joke, as both men laughed before Ujihiro strode off. How could Nobuhiro be so calm after what had just happened?
“Nobuhiro?” Sen said.
He walked over to her, more slowly than she remembered. His limp caused him trouble, but had he pulled a muscle as well? The laughter that had been there moments before was now gone. In its place was trepidation.
“Yes?” he asked.
“May I talk with you?”
His eyes widened as his body swayed and he shifted his weight back and forth. What concerned him? He had placed himself in danger. He had faced down a mounted archer. He had saved her life. What made him nervous now?
She ran her fingers over her cotton kimono and grasped at it for strength. “Thank you . . . for everything.”
Nobuhiro looked around. “I’m relieved you weren’t injured.”
“Why did you do it? You could have been killed.”
He stood straight and still, but his eyes hid passion. “I had to protect you. I owe your parents a debt. They’ve already lost one daughter. I saw their pain. I couldn’t bear for them to lose a second child.”
She paused, not knowing what to say. He had done it for her. For her family. For their survival. He had shown more duty to her family than she had. His face reddened and he scanned the room again, as if checking to see if anyone else was present. Sen followed his gaze but saw no one.
His eyes exhibited a rebuke. “You owe it to your parents not to take so many chances.”
Chances. Sen didn’t understand. Being on the castle grounds should be safe. “What do you mean?”
He leaned closer. “I saw the cross.”
Air streamed across Sen’s lips as she took in a breath, and her heart beat faster. First, Omi had discovered her habits. Now Nobuhiro had done the same with just one glance. She tried to speak but found no response.
His gaze didn’t waver. “Whether there for good or ill, that cross is a trap for you. People here must know about it. It wasn’t here seven years ago.”
“Are you certain?” Sen shook her head.
He nodded with his eyes closed as if imitating a sage old man and then stared at her again. “Yes, I know every bit of this place. At least I did before I left. An unfortunate result of how slowly I move about. For your own protection and for the happiness of your parents, you should never go near that cross.”
Sen reconfirmed that they were still alone. “That cross is a sign from my God. It brings joy to me.”
“That cross should be removed.” His tone mimicked the self-assurance of his father.
Her mouth tightened and sent tension through her body. “Removed?”
“The regent has outlawed Christianity. Images like that should be taken down.”
Sen struggled to maintain a whisper as her throat constricted her words. “How can you say that?” A tear streamed down her face. “You know what it means to me. My former master lost his lands. Friends of mine died for it.”
Nobuhiro’s stare remained unchanged. “Precisely the reason to remove it. It’s dangerous.”
Her eyes teared up and she swallowed hard. “Christians mean no one any harm.”
His lips quivered. “I . . . I did not . . . ” he sputtered, but that was all he got out.
She opened her mouth to lash out but choked on her own words. Finally, she looked away. “Please . . . leave me alone.”
“I did not mean to upset you.” He bowed as if that would make him seem more sincere. “I’m concerned for you. For your family.”
Her body remained as tense as a drawn bowstring, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore. She didn’t want to see him. In the space of an hour, he had both protected her and insulted her. She rubbed the back of her neck to massage away the pain. It didn’t help.
“Just go, please” she begged.
He turned and walked away. She watched him, then wiped away her tears after he left.
He was trying to protect her family.
He didn’t deserve her condemnation.
Mother had recommended him as a perfect candidate for a husband. She could satisfy family duty if she followed her advice.
After today, though, she couldn’t do that.
She reached up and rubbed the scars on her neck. They no longer bled as they first had months ago. Yet, Nobuhiro’s words about the cross had left fresh marks on the emotional wound she had thought healed since leaving Haibara.
To marry Nobuhiro, as her mother had suggested, would not be true to her beliefs. Lord Akamatsu told her to trust in the Lord and He would guide her. Given Nobuhiro’s words today, the path to marriage looked to be toward a man who not only didn’t believe in Christ but who also thought Christianity a danger. This wasn’t the path she had envisioned.
Nobuhiro’s name meant faith.
How ironic that he had none.
Chapter Six
Kaiken paced in front of Michiba, wearing out the ground in a small circle. The samurai remained impassive, his hands resting on his swords. He didn’t move or appear to breathe. The sign of a master samurai.
Being a master samurai was why Michiba had been recruited.
Today Kaiken had expected more.
Crickets chirped in the trees nearby, perforating the quiet of the night. The scent of grasses floated on the breeze, mixing with the light incense that scented Kaiken’s kimono. Disappointment overrode both.
Kaiken fumed. “I watched the entire incident. You could have made it look better.”
Michiba stared back. His eyes flashed disagreement. “It was sufficient. Any closer and the girl could have been hit. Dead, she is of no use to us. Given the miss, no one will suspect me.”
“Still. You let Tokoda survive. Him we don’t need. He was protecting a Christian. That marks him guilty.”
“Killing him risks war with his brothers. They would never rest until they had their revenge. Neither would his father. I know the Tokodas. You should, too. Our activities would be nullified immediately.
Kaiken mulled over Michiba’s words. He had been good counsel. He was the smartest of the group. Still, his actions lacked reason. “You fear them?”
“Any sane man would. Their familial bonds are strong.”
“Boar snouts! The elder Tokoda would welcome his lame son’s death. His youngest son disowned his heritage. He is an embarrassment.”
“He may be estranged, but he’s not forgotten. He wielded the sword well, as if he’d inherited his skill. He’s definitely a Tokoda.”
“Ridiculous. He had scant training as a child. No one can inherit this talent.”
“Then he learned as he studied the craft of creation. He’s as dangerous as any samurai.”
Howls sounded in the distance, adding harmony to the crickets. Kaiken looked toward the stone walls that outlined the borders of the castle. Samurai patrolled the grounds, looking for signs of movement. Could Kaiken and Michiba be seen in the shadows surrounding the building? Attention would not be good. Roughly two more minutes and then a change of patrol. From there, they would have thirty seconds to depart without being seen. They had already been together too long.
“Kaiken, what are your orders then?” Michiba asked.
Asking for orders. Always a good samurai, despite his failure in the arrow attack. “We will meet at the burned-down structure one week from tomorrow. Pass the message to the others. Find a reason to be there.”
“Hai.” Michiba nodded. “What will you do?”
“My duties allow me access to the woman. I am trying to get closer. She has no idea of my intentions. I will report next week.”
Michiba grunted but said no more. They both turned to watch the guards change. Kaiken stared, unwilling to breathe. Wait. Wait.
“Now,” Kaiken said.
Kaiken turned, hearing Michiba do the same in the other direction, his steps still audible on the ground.
&nb
sp; If you fail me again, I will kill you myself.
###
Nobuhiro glanced constantly at the castle as he approached the market area. He tried to avoid looking, but it was useless. It was like viewing someone else’s misfortune. An overturned cart. A sunken roof. You might simply watch. You might try to help. But no matter how sorry you felt for those involved, you couldn’t stop staring.
But it was different this time. The disaster was his fault. The castle was his reminder.
It had been four days since the archery competition. Memories of Sen’s anger and fear replayed in his mind. Her anger. Her tears. Her dismissal of him with a wave of her hand. It hurt more than when his father had done the same years before. Compared with the pain that still surged through him, jabbing himself with a sword would have been only minor.
Sen, can you forgive me for what I said? I was only thinking of your family.
He had heard that Sen’s religion preached forgiveness. Apologies went a long way in salving wounds and saving face. Insulting someone’s faith cut deep.
It was best to concentrate on finding that rider. If only he could remember more details. Would finding the attacker take away the pain? Until the attacker was caught, Sen was in danger.
Bumps from passersby brought him to back to the present. The crowd at the market was thick. He would trip if he wasn’t careful. The wafting smells of fried octopus, eel, and baked sweet potatoes made his stomach growl. A snack to sustain him would be good. He rubbed his chest and confirmed that the string of coins was there. After the shopping. Duty first.
He headed to a stand of daikon radishes. A small crowd was already at the cart, but he could wait. A tap on his left shoulder startled him. He turned slowly around.
Toshi stood there, his usual smirk frozen in place. He had thought of some comment. Something sarcastic. Maybe Nobuhiro could force the subject and skip over it.
No. Probably not a chance.
“Brother, good to see you,” Nobuhiro said.
Toshi nodded, his mouth widening. A playful insult was coming. “I see your techniques are improving. Your master has expanded your duties and you’ve been entrusted with shopping, though I don’t understand how it relates to being a swordsmith. Maybe congratulations are in order. You’ve been promoted to being a woman.”
Nobuhiro laughed for a few seconds. Toshi had probably noticed him earlier and had that comment rolling through his mind, waiting for the right time to irritate him. The laughter felt good and lifted his spirits.
“My master’s wife has been ill for two days,” he finally said. “I’ve been doing the shopping while he tends to her.”
“I see.” Toshi’s face changed to somber as he nodded. “Have you remembered any more details on the attack?”
Nobuhiro shook his head. “None. Have you learned anything more yourself?”
“Uji explored something late last night. He woke me when he returned to the house, but I didn’t have a chance to ask him.”
“He woke you?”
“The floor howled in protest when he stepped on it. Shortly thereafter, I heard him snoring.”
Nobuhiro chuckled, though silently this time. “How did you know the snore wasn’t our father?”
“Father sleeps mostly at the castle now, buried in his work. I don’t believe he has slept well since . . . since our mother passed. Work provides him a respite. Besides, he snores at a lower pitch than Uji does.”
“Only you would notice.”
A group of people jostled Nobuhiro from behind. A quick bow between him and them offered the silent apology.
Toshi’s grin returned. “I’m happy to see you. Do you have time for tea?”
“Unfortunately, no. I have to finish here in town and then get back to the shop.”
“I spoke with Master Goami this morning. You have time.”
Nobuhiro looked up at Toshi, expecting another smile but seeing none. “You talked with Master Goami?”
“Yes,” he said, moving beside Nobuhiro and putting his hand on his shoulder, “and I requested a favor, one he was willing to grant me.”
“You’re a samurai. He wouldn’t refuse you.”
“Yes, but he wouldn’t refuse a repeat customer either.”
Nobuhiro’s stomach jumped, and this time it wasn’t due to the roasting vegetables nearby. He looked up and down the street, expecting what, he didn’t know, but knowing something was coming. “A favor, you said?”
Toshi motioned to his left and Nobuhiro looked that way again. Nothing at first. He strained his eyes a few seconds more and his mouth dropped.
Sen.
She and Omi were headed in their direction, at least he thought it was her. Next to Sen, any woman seemed a blur. He glanced back at Toshi.
“You’re trying to arrange a meeting for me?”
He paused, running his hand over his scalp. “What makes you think this arrangement is about you?” He waved his hand in the air, gesturing down the street. “I’ve been trying to get Omi away from the castle for a while. If Uji knew, he’d give me no end of grief.”
Omi? So Toshi was interested in someone. Good. He had been single too long. It was time for him to settle down, though they would have to find a new house. Uji often commented that his wife had enough trouble dealing with Toshi by himself. “So you arranged this to see Omi? How’d you know she’d bring Sen?”
Toshi chortled. “She thinks she’s doing this to bring the two of you back together.”
“That explains why you talked to Master Goami.” Nobuhiro looked toward the women again. They were still distant. However, every step they made matched the hitches in his breath. He wanted to see Sen, but he wasn’t ready for this.
“And you couldn’t talk to Omi without my help?”
“I needed someone for Sen to talk to. Omi couldn’t meet me alone. Too suspicious.” Toshi slapped Nobuhiro on the shoulder. “Thanks for joining me. I appreciate it.”
Nobuhiro groaned, both inside and out. He felt trapped like a crab in one of the nearby tanks. He could move a bit, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Nobuhiro wasn’t ready to see Sen again. Yet he saw her in his dreams.
The two women drew closer. He bounced lightly in his straw sandals, but the solid ground provided scant support to his squid-jelly legs. Several people in the crowded street passed in front of them, but it didn’t obstruct his view.
Sen wore a plain yellow kimono with what looked to be birds decorating the front. Omi’s was nearly the same. Both women wore geta, wooden shoes with blocks underneath. The shoes kept the dust off their feet. No one ever walked fast in them.
Nobuhiro tried not to stare at Sen. He couldn’t help it. Her hair was pulled back tightly. The sun caught a lighter streak in her hair that dazzled him and accented the kimono she wore. The slow pace necessitated by the geta drew out the moment. Each step short. Each step measured. Each step synchronous with the beat of his heart.
My thoughts are nothing compared to being in her presence.
She probably didn’t want to talk to him again, especially after his comments about her faith. Why had she agreed to come now?
Nobuhiro surveyed the stores, a line of one-story buildings with narrow fronts. Food. Farming tools. Cloth merchants. Umbrellas. The distraction didn’t work. His thoughts were choppy. Like rice through a gristmill, Nobuhiro’s husk was stripped away to reveal his feelings. His hands quivered. His body soon followed.
Then Toshi brought him out of it.
“Ah, perfect timing,” he said.
“H . . . how can you call this perfect? I’m not ready for this.” His voice shook in resonance with the rest of him.
“Simple, you haven’t bought any fish yet for dinner.”
###
A mother and her two girls crossed in front of Sen in the market area, bringing back memories of her childhood. She used to walk these streets with her mother. The city bustled with the same activity she remembered from then. As a child, she recalled the sounds and the people
. As an adult, she noticed the clean streets.
It was a happier time then. A safer time.
Hopefully, with the crowd, it was safe now.
When Omi had asked Sen to join her in a trip to the market area, she had quickly agreed. She hadn’t gotten out much since her return to Himeji, except for the visit to her parents. She looked down the street. Getting out was a good idea. People swarmed through the various businesses and side alleys. Traveling merchants, their money scales on their belts, negotiated with shop owners. Restaurant patrons sat along the low walls outside establishments as waitresses took their orders. Dogs yelped on both sides of the street, likely hoping for scraps from both careless and thoughtful eaters.
Sen wiped her brow, surprised at the perspiration that now dotted her head and fingertips. There was only one extra kimono underneath the one she wore, but it was still heavy. If only fashion allowed people to wear lighter clothes before May. Dressing to match the weather made sense on days like this.
Omi grabbed her arm. “Down there, on the left,” she said, pointing. “There’s a nice place to have tea.”
Sen looked where Omi was pointing and wasn’t sure at first. The throng of people blocked much of the view. “Where? I don’t see any—”
And then there he was. In the distance. Standing with his brother.
Nobuhiro.
She had been set up.
Her heart pulled at her throat with the tension of a drawn bowstring. She couldn’t face him. She scanned the other side of the street and gestured to the right. “I see another small shop over here.”
“What?”
“This place over here. It looks fine.”
Sen glanced at Omi, who ignored her and pointed in the direction Sen didn’t want to go. “No, you must believe me. Down there is a great place. Oh, I see Toshi.” Omi turned to Sen; her smirk completed her deception. “What’s he doing here?”
“Yes, what’s he doing here?” Sen glared back, letting Omi know she didn’t believe her feigned surprise. Still, she was stuck. They both knew it.
The stroll toward the two men passed slowly and Sen fumed the entire way. She tried not to look at Nobuhiro, but her glances strayed to him and she couldn’t prevent it.
