The Samurai's Heart (The Heart Of The Samurai Book 1)

by Walt Mussell

  Her stomach churned harder. Lord Akamatsu must have been wrong, requiring her to stay.

  They walked for thirty minutes before they reached the edge of the market area that led all the way to the castle. Sweat continued to trickle down Sen’s neck and back. The walk had been mostly in silence with few passersby. Now more people gathered. The crowd was light, but the bustle of the businesses was a welcome respite. Still, they blocked any breeze.

  The air grew thick with the warning of impending rain. Sen noticed two straw merchants nearby. Both were displaying rain jackets in front of the stores. They were about to get busy.

  “Would you like to stop for tea before we get there?” Nobuhiro asked.

  Sen considered the proposal. The rains would come soon and they needed to hurry. Still, the silence with Nobuhiro had been unbearable. “Are you thirsty?”

  “No, I’m just concerned that I’m taxing you. I have been worried about you since your injuries.”

  She glanced at the ground as heat sped to her cheeks. “That’s very kind of you. Did you have a place in mind?”

  Nobuhiro didn’t answer. Instead, he jerked his head slightly askance and indicated for her to glance in that general direction. She looked but didn’t understand at first.

  “There,” he said, motioning with his hand.

  Sen took a second look and then smiled. It was the place they had been before. “I don’t know,” she said, laughing. “What do you think Toshi and Omi would say if they knew we went without them?”

  “It won’t irritate them too much, I’m certain.” Nobuhiro grinned in a way that calmed her. He had a good smile, indicative of his warm heart.

  As they stepped toward the entrance, Sen saw the hanging medallion she remembered from the last time she was here, the one indicating happiness. She brushed her fingers over it. The metal was cool to the touch. A dog barked nearby and she withdrew her hand, noting a little white dog with short hair at the bottom of the steps. The dog seemed to smile at her. She smiled back and entered.

  They took their seats and ordered. The server brought tea and mochi quickly.

  “I know you enjoyed being home, but are you looking forward to returning to the castle?” Nobuhiro asked.

  Sen sipped her tea. “Yes, it will be good to get back to work. I have not been here long enough to have been gone so long from my duties.”

  Nobuhiro nodded his concurrence. He understood duty. Did she? She looked about. The place was mostly empty, but that could change at any time.

  It had to be now.

  “Nobuhiro, there may be a church somewhere in town.”

  His lips thinned into a line. “Even with the edict. Even after what’s happened. You believe that Christians would still gather? Where is this place?”

  “I don’t know. Mother had a clue about where one might be, but she didn’t know anything else.”

  Sen related what Mother had told her as Nobuhiro sat rapt. “What do you think?”

  “Joy springs from burying your bitterness in the ground,” he repeated. “It makes no sense.”

  “I know, but it’s the only clue I have. Will you help me find it?”

  He inhaled, taking the air through his teeth. Whatever his answer, he believed she wouldn’t like it. She clenched her teeth as her nerves danced like an apprentice geisha. Spice scents wafted through the air, but her mouth was dry.

  “I will help you,” he said, “but I agree with your Mother. This religion. It has brought sorrow to your family. As I said at the cemetery, I fear more will come.”

  Sen stared at the floor, absorbing his rebuke in her gut. Her jaw tightened, but she steeled herself to stay placid and looked back at Nobuhiro. “If you don’t believe it, then why would you help?”

  “Jiro would have wanted me to help. Your sister would have wanted me to help, to look after you.”

  “And what do you want?”

  A foursome of men took seats near them and Nobuhiro did not answer. Just as well. It was time to go. She needed to get back.

  ###

  Nobuhiro accompanied Sen the rest of the way. Both had said little since they left the restaurant. Approaching thunder filled the silence. His leg winced in response. Many people on the street carried raincoats. It would be a long walk back.

  They stopped at the castle’s outer entrance at the edge of the stone wall that buttressed the grounds. Sen broke the tension first. “Are you going in to see your brothers?”

  He cleared his throat. “I am, but I wanted to say something I can’t say inside.”

  Her soft eyes did little to mask the pain in her face. “What is it?”

  His shoulders tensed. “I’ll keep my promise. I’ll help you look for the church.”

  She bit down on her lip as she shook her head. “It’s not necessary. If you don’t believe, then it’s best you don’t help. I can look on my own.”

  Her refusal ripped at his gut. He tried to think of a response. A woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Sen, welcome back!”

  Omi, dressed in a tight yellow kimono, approached at a fast pace. He and Sen both walked toward her.

  “Good to see you, Omi.” A wide smile stretched across her face.

  Omi responded in kind, her smile emphasizing her dimples. Her black hair was pulled up tightly into a bun with red sticks poking out, and her perfume smelled like honey. She was an attractive lady. Toshi was a lucky man.

  “How did you know I was here?” Sen asked.

  “We saw you coming from the castle,” Omi said.

  “We?” Nobuhiro asked. “I only see you.”

  Omi’s cheeks reddened. She flashed a sheepish smile and glanced down. “I was with Toshi,” she said. “We saw the two of you from one of the strategic windows.”

  Nobuhiro looked at the castle, its white structure now framed by dark, billowy clouds. Thunder echoed again as he studied the portals that faced the front entrance, windows with small apertures that opened wide, allowing archers to shoot invaders with little fear of a return volley. As a child, he had walked the castle with his father, who showed him how to aim properly and produce the correct angle. As a child, he had fantasized about saving the castle from attack and his father had laughed.

  As a child, he had walked the castle with his father and his father had laughed . . . with him.

  He rubbed at his chest as he turned to the ladies. “Your eyesight is remarkable,” he said, impressed.

  Omi nodded. “It’s the limp. Toshi’s familiar with it. You have a distinctive gait.”

  Nobuhiro glanced back at the windows and imagined his brother chuckling at him. He would never be able to approach an enemy with stealth. He had accepted that. “I should’ve known.”

  Omi looked toward the castle. “Your brothers wish to talk to you. There’s been some news.”

  Nobuhiro inquired, but Omi added nothing further. It must be private and not for Sen. As they neared the main keep, he saw Uji bounding in their direction.

  “Brother, good to see you,” Uji said as he smiled. “And you, too, Sen. Welcome back.”

  Nobuhiro watched as Sen and Omi walked toward a building that housed the women’s quarters. He had wanted to say goodbye to Sen before she left, but the presence of Uji and Omi erased his opportunity. Every step Sen took along the worn dirt path pulled at his heart, as if he would never get this close again.

  “Even were I blind,” Uji said, “I could see what is in your heart, little brother. She is a beautiful woman and appears to have captured your interest.”

  “Yes, but what would our father think?” Nobuhiro answered.

  Uji stopped and crossed his arms. “The last time you were here, you did not seem to care.”

  Nobuhiro looked at his brother. What should he say? He thought of Sen. A couple of drops struck his forehead. He wanted to move.

  He wanted to talk.

  He could trust his older brother.

  “I care what our father thinks.” The admission struck hi
m hard as he groped for the words. “I’ve always cared.”

  Uji grinned. “It’s good to hear. But why would he not approve? Though samurai often marry for political reasons or to satisfy obligations, it is possible to marry a woman like Sen. You forget that my wife was an attendant, like Sen. My wife is a bright woman. She runs the house. The fields. The workers. Besides, you are a swordsmith now. Sen would be a suitable match for you.”

  More drops fell on Nobuhiro, trickling down his face. He glanced about. Various samurai and attendants were passing around them, moving quickly so they wouldn’t be caught in the squall. No one was close enough to hear them.

  No one was close enough to learn Sen’s secret.

  “It’s not her station in life. It’s her beliefs.”

  Uji wrinkled his lips. “Oh, she’s a Christian.” He whispered the last word in a mocking tone as the two started walking toward the main building. “That is not a choice one makes lightly.”

  “I know. Sen discussed it with me. Her older sister and her husband, before they died, also discussed it with me.”

  “Are you considering it?” Uji asked, arching one eyebrow.

  Nobuhiro gaped at the ground before turning back to his brother. “I told Sen that I wasn’t interested.”

  Uji smiled. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Nobuhiro’s throat tightened. “I listened to what she said. You find that strange?”

  “I don’t,” Uji said. “Growing up, you always viewed things in a different way. Toshi and I inherited Father’s manner. You inherited Mother’s.”

  “I wish I could remember her.”

  “You would have been her favorite.”

  Nobuhiro gazed up at his brother. “She would have considered what the Christian missionaries, or those Japanese who converted, say?”

  Uji pursed his lips and shook his head. “She would have listened well and understood. However, I don’t think she would’ve agreed.”

  Rain sprinkled in a constant patter. It would drench them soon. Nobuhiro ignored it. “And you? Have you listened?’

  Uji paused. “I have. It is the duty of a samurai to open his mind to all the possibilities in the world, so long as it does not impact his service to his master.”

  “Then what do you think?”

  Uji looked up at the sky as if measuring his own words. “It’s not for me. I have many issues with it.”

  “Such as?” Nobuhiro asked.

  “I heard accounts of how these Christian missionaries first arrived forty years ago. They came on large ships, along with men who wished to trade with us. These men claimed to be from halfway around the world.”

  Nobuhiro chuckled. “I have heard the stories.”

  Uji ran his hand over his head. “These men were a study in contrasts. They brought a new religion in tandem with their goods. They also brought guns. One does not need to be skilled to kill with such a device. There is no honor in fighting with it.”

  “Yet samurai now use these weapons,” Nobuhiro said.

  “Yes, it’s slowly replacing the way we’ve always done things. The number of swordsmiths dwindles as some of them turn from making swords to producing guns. Within a few years, samurai will fight as easily with a gun as with a sword. I fear this religion will sweep our country the same way.”

  Nobuhiro stopped, tapping his toe on the ground. “From what I’ve learned, these men possess different tools. I’ve heard stories of their ships. Have you seen any of them? Are they as huge as rumored? Maybe they have things they can teach us.”

  “Yes, I saw their ships during the campaign last year down south in Kyushu. The technical knowledge of these foreigners surpasses ours. Despite this”—he softened his voice—“the motivation of their leaders matches ours.”

  “What do you mean?” Nobuhiro asked, tilting his head.

  “Last year, one of the missionaries offered their largest ship to the regent so he could take Kyushu.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Uji’s face darkened, matching the clouds. “The missionary thought to provide himself with a way to establish a permanent place in Kyushu for his religious efforts. However, this was a man of politics, not of religion. Such a man is no better than those members of certain Buddhist sects who take money for protection or sexual favors. Within a week of his victory, the regent ordered all missionaries to leave the country.”

  “And now Christians live in fear.”

  “Not everywhere. Their faith is still practiced openly in Kyushu, especially in Nagasaki. The missionaries even have houses in Osaka and Kyoto. They just remain quiet. The regent hasn’t eliminated it. He’s as addicted to the money from trade as the man who lent him the ship.”

  “Do you doubt their beliefs because of this one man?”

  “No, I doubt them because I have yet to meet someone who can put the high ideals of their religion into practice.”

  “So, you admire their ideas then?” Nobuhiro asked.

  Rain pelted Uji’s head and shoulders. “Hai. I admire the ideas. However, I don’t know if they can be applied here. I would have to meet a Japanese person who embodies these beliefs.”

  “As I have met Sen?”

  Uji grunted his assent but added nothing further.

  Nobuhiro nodded his head slowly. “Why not one of the foreigners? Why would talking with them not help?”

  Uji laughed. “They are uncultured barbarians and they let their dogs sleep at their feet.”

  Nobuhiro grinned in response, but he didn’t feel good about it. He respected Uji’s opinion. However, his own feelings for Sen were strong. He had told her not to bother with him. Was that a mistake? If he showed more interest in her faith, would it be for himself or just to please her?

  “Omi mentioned there was news,” Nobuhiro said.

  “Yes, but we should wait. Father and Toshi will be along any moment. It is best to do it all together. What has Sen said to you about her faith?”

  “She said she will pray for me. I believe she prays for my relationship with Father.”

  Rubbing his hand across his forehead, Uji grinned widely. “Her prayers seem to be working.”

  Nobuhiro eyed his brother. “What makes you say that?”

  “That’s the first time I’ve heard you acknowledge Father as Father instead of our father. It’s a good beginning. She should continue with the prayers. Her heart is kind. She offers these prayers not for gain but for grace. It is a thoughtful gesture.”

  A chill wind blew through the courtyard, raising the hairs on the back on Nobuhiro’s neck. Had he really said Father? He shivered and hunched his shoulders, then wiped his forehead. The light rain had stopped for now. “But you do not believe in this faith? Why accept the prayers?”

  Uji shook his head lightly. “I would welcome the benevolent intervention of her deity, even if I do not believe He exists. It is foolish not to accept such genuine help and I’m not wise enough to know everything.”

  Nobuhiro fingered the rough hemp edge of his jacket. “Neither am I.”

  “Good,” a terse, authoritative voice responded from nearby. “It is gratifying to see you have learned that. Young men think they know everything. It is only age that makes them realize how irresponsible they once were.”

  Nobuhiro wheeled to face his father, who strode toward them. Toshi followed, a few steps behind him in a show of respect. Was his father commenting on his decision to leave when he was young? Likely. He considered a response but bit his words. Let Father say his piece without rebuttal. “I understand there is news.”

  “Yes,” Father answered. “Toshihiro.”

  “We found Funaki,” Toshi said, “or rather he turned himself in.”

  “So, you are questioning him?” Nobuhiro asked.

  Toshi chewed his lower lip. “Not exactly.”

  “Toshihiro,” their father interrupted, his eyes flashing disapproval, “this is not the time for your humor. Move on. We have much to do.”

  “Yes,
Father,” Toshi said. “Funaki returned to the castle last night. He committed suicide on the grounds. We found his body this morning.”

  “Where?” Nobuhiro asked.

  “The suicide gate,” Toshi said.

  Nobuhiro made a low whistle. The suicide gate. The spot on the castle grounds where people were brought when ordered to take their own lives. “I thank you for telling me.”

  “You earned the right to know,” his father said. “Your actions in facing Funaki were”—he tilted his head slightly—“impressive.”

  Trying to mask his face, Nobuhiro stood there silent. Impressive? It was his father’s first word of praise that Nobuhiro could remember.

  At least since Mother passed away.

  Uji’s voice brought him back to the present. “Father and Toshi have reported this to Lord Kinoshita. They’ve been ordered to journey to Kyoto and deliver an update on our progress in this investigation. This news is too important to trust to a messenger service.”

  “Progress? It’s not over?” Nobuhiro asked.

  “We don’t think so,” Uji said. “There’s still a possibility that more than one person is behind what’s been happening. We have not eliminated the other suspects. Kitayama is still a possibility, though I am convinced he is not involved. Michiba and Nishioji remain suspects as well.”

  “Is the Goami family in danger?” Nobuhiro asked.

  “We do not think so,” Uji said. “However, there is one rather odd item.”

  “What is that?” Nobuhiro asked.

  Uji went silent. Nobuhiro looked at his father, whose stonelike face betrayed nothing. Finally, Toshi piped in.

  “He killed himself like a woman.”

  “Excuse me?” Nobuhiro said, turning to face his other brother. “Are you saying he slit his own throat?”

  Thunder sounded overhead as if mocking the silence of his father and brothers. Nobuhiro rubbed his chest. “Why?”

  “We don’t know,” Uji said. “Stabbing one’s self in the gut is painful, especially without a second to end your suffering. Perhaps he flinched at the pain.”