Toru: Wayfarer Returns (Sakura Steam Series Book 1)

by Stephanie R. Sorensen

  Jiro’s fleet of ten dirigibles was now a fleet of ten dirigibles built, with crews in training, and fifty more being assembled in hangars across the land. As the fleet grew, Jiro promoted himself from Captain to Admiral, with the consent and approval of the lords. These were unusual times, and even the conservative old daimyōs recognized a brave blacksmith with several hundred hours of flight experience and the ability to fix the complex engines and steering mechanisms was better suited to managing these airships than a samurai skilled with a sword but no knowledge of flight.

  Crews for the future dirigibles practiced with wooden mockups, training against the day their ships would soar out of the workshops. Hangars sprouted up throughout the realms loyal to the revolution. Dirigibles were status symbols. Any daimyō of any size and resources at all wanted one. And the lesser lords were not being left behind either. Lord Aya teamed up with with five other lesser daimyōs to build one together, the Toranosuke Maru. Naming privileges had gone to him although his investment was in fact the smallest, in recognition of his early contribution to the cause.

  Along with Asano, Takamori and Tōru, Masuyo trained as well, until each was ready to captain and pilot a dirijibi airship.

  The lords fortified the borders of the fukoku kyōhei loyalists against assault by the Shogun’s forces. They drew up and signed pacts of mutual defense. They were now officially traitors, defying the Shogun, and committed to defiance through military means if pressed. They expected attacks from bakufu forces any day now.

  Edo’s passivity surprised everyone. A band of treason stretched from the far west, Lord Shimazu’s Satsuma domain, on up the western coast of Japan all the way to the far north, where they were gathered in Lord Date’s northern holdings.

  The east and south were Shogunate fudai inner lord strongholds, but the front was being newly defined with each passing day. Each week, more allies flocked to their banner, as a new daimyō sent emissaries or arrived personally to join their discussions. At a certain point, they ceased to think of themselves as treasonous traitors and began to regard themselves simply as one side in a civil war, a cold civil war in which blood had not yet been shed nor banners raised in open defiance, but sides surely were being chosen and loyalties declared.

  The day of execution for Lord Aya, Lord Tōmatsu and Tōru approached. Failure to appear would be an act of open defiance of the Shogun’s decree, with their families subject to punishment and their landholdings to seizure by the Shogunate.

  Two days before the day scheduled for the executions, Masuyo approached Lord Tōmatsu. She quietly attended all the meetings, never speaking, but slipping words of advice and insight to Tōru, Takamori and Lord Aya during the breaks. The other men tolerated her presence, understanding her to be an important leader’s daughter who had bravely escaped the Shogun and invented many of the new technologies. Out of respect for Lord Aya, they made exception for her unconventional participation in their war councils and in the dirigible pilot training.

  “Tōmatsu-sama, may I have a word with you?”

  “Of course.” He was fond of Masuyo and enjoyed seeing her.

  “Lady Tōmatsu, she is well?” asked the girl, knowing there had been no communication from Lady Tōmatsu since she had left. She did not wish to pain her father’s friend, but in the weeks since her own escape, her thoughts kept turning to her final conversation with Lady Tōmatsu.

  Lord Tōmatsu looked at her sadly.

  “There is no Lady Tōmatsu.”

  “Are you sure, my lord?”

  “She’s gone. I cannot reach her. My son is lost to me as well.”

  “That is why we must rescue her. And your son. And bring them here to safety.”

  “She left of her own free will. No. It is impossible.”

  Masuyo could hear the bitterness and hurt in Lord Tōmatsu’s voice. And anger, the bitter anger of hurt pride. He had often joked about his difficult wife and her grand airs, but always with a kind of pride and affection, the kind of pride and affection that is rooted in love. Masuyo was embarrassed to press on, but given the life and death stakes, she persisted. She had seen Lady Tōmatsu’s anguish over her difficult choice. She held out her hands, palms up, in a gesture both of vulnerability and pleading, speaking for Lady Tōmatsu as she had come to understood her.

  “A woman has few choices and only hard ones in our world. I was with her the day you were condemned to death. She believed herself to have no husband and a helpless fatherless baby to protect. She did what she had to do to protect your son, as she believed you would have wished.” Masuyo could hardly bring herself to utter the next words, matters of such privacy and delicacy, so boldly to the powerful older man. “My lord, she was loyal in the only way she knew how to be, acting to save your son. Now that you are free, can you not forgive her? And save her?”

  Lord Tōmatsu stared at Masuyo a long time and then slowly nodded. He did not chastise her for speaking out of turn. Masuyo waited long for his reply.

  “Yes, I want my wife by my side.”

  And so the council approved Masuyo’s plan to fly her ship, the Toranosuke Maru, to Edo to rescue Lady Tōmatsu and her son, although the bold mission risked provoking the Shogun into turning the cold war into a hot war.

  Once the decision had been reached by the rebel Council, Tōru pulled Masuyo aside outside the reception hall.

  “What are you doing? This is no job for a woman!”

  Masuyo pulled her arm away and glared at Tōru. “Of all people, I had hoped you would support me on this. Even my old father gave me his blessing. And the council its approval!”

  “It’s a great idea. I’m glad we’re doing it for Lord Tōmatsu, of course. But it’s dangerous. You’ll be flying above thousands of bakufu troops. Let Jiro, Takamori, Asano and I deal with this.”

  “Oh, so I’m part of the team until everything gets real. Then the men need to take over.”

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  “I know exactly what you meant. I’m leading the mission precisely because I am a woman. Any man goes and there will be a fight for sure. With a woman we have a chance of avoiding a fight.”

  Tōru made a face, his disagreement clear.

  “With me, a mere lowly woman,” she said, with exaggerated sarcasm, “I might get a moment of confusion and uncertainty. Lady Tōmatsu’s brother’s warriors will hesitate to fire on me.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “It’s our best shot. Lady Tōmatsu trusts me. She will come with me, quickly.”

  “You could be killed.”

  “So might we all. Step aside, fisherman. I need to prep my ship.”

  Masuyo pushed past Tōru, leaving him stunned and silent in the passageway. They had never quarreled in all the long and stressful months, although they had argued over tactics and plans with energy and passion. He had thought his faith in her and her trust in him had been strong, unbreakable. He only wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

  But now everything felt broken between them. She would be flying south soon, possibly to her death. There was nothing he could do to protect her, or stop her. And there was nothing he could do to repair what he had damaged between them.

  The next morning, the Toranosuke Maru took off for Edo to fetch the Lady Tōmatsu and Lord Tōmatsu’s son. Lord Tōmatsu’s retainer Sugieda and several of Lord Tōmatsu’s men went along in case of fighting, joined by Masuyo, Jiro, Asano and Takamori. However, the plan was not to fight. The mission rested upon Masuyo’s slender shoulders and an elegantly simple plan.

  Tōru knew better than to try to join them and board her ship with the others. He watched hidden in the trees as the mission team prepared to depart. He whispered a prayer of protection to the Buddha in all his emanations, the local kami and the Christian God, too, for good measure, asking them all to watch over Masuyo.

  Lord Aya waved farewell to his daughter, his eyes glistening as he smiled and waved to his daughter as the Toranosuke Maru soared up into the sparkling brigh
t morning sky, the conservative old lord braver and more supportive than Tōru had been.

  The journey south took all day, the dirigible skimming over fields and villages, startling the commoners below at the strange sight of a flying ship.

  Under cover of night, Jiro landed the Toranosuke Maru in a grove on the grounds of Lady Tōmatsu’s brother’s home. Alone, without escort, dressed in her newly designed airship pilot uniform of trousers, tall boots and a stylish greatcoat, Masuyo approached the grand home from the gardens. She called out for Lady Tōmatsu.

  Throwing the household into an uproar with her unexpected appearance, unusual attire and the great dragon dirigible floating serenely above, Masuyo waited until Lady Tōmatsu appeared.

  Servants flocked to the garden, their mouths agape.

  “Lord Tōmatsu has sent me with a message. He wishes you and your son to join him in exile. You must come now, this moment, and leave all behind. Please, join me, join us, join your husband and help us build the new Japan.”

  Lady Tōmatsu stared at Masuyo, her habitual composure shattered. She clasped her hands together tightly.

  Masuyo could see they trembled even so.

  “You are safe? And my husband — he wishes to have me with him?”

  “Yes, my lady. But you must hurry. We must leave now, this moment. Leave all behind. Where is your son?”

  Already the dirigible had drawn notice, floating boldly above the compound clearly visible above the trees of the garden. They could hear the pounding of soldiers at the main gate.

  Lady Tōmatsu looked at Masuyo, her brother and the servants.

  “Bring me my son!”

  A nurse ran and returned moments later with a squalling red-faced toddler, howling at the commotion.

  Lady Tōmatsu bowed to her brother and thanked him for his hospitality. “Please forgive me for any inconvenience I have caused you.” He gaped open-mouthed at her and at Masuyo, resplendent in her new airship uniform, glittering with gold braid.

  She turned to Masuyo, her son balanced on her hip.

  “Let’s go.”

  As the soldiers poured into the house, searching for the rebels, the Toranosuke Maru rose up into the moonless sky, black against a million stars, with Lady Tōmatsu, her son and Masuyo clinging to the ropes supporting a large basket dangling below the dirigible.

  Jiro cast down a special bag fastened firmly to a stout rope, to bring up the shrieking babe. Lady Tōmatsu hesitated and then bound her son tight into the bag. Tenderly Jiro’s rough men pulled the precious parcel up and lifted the screaming child over the edge. Once the toddler was safe, Jiro sent down another rope and a rope ladder. Masuyo bound the rope around Lady Tōmatsu, over her elegant obi, and tied it into a kind of harness.

  She tested her knots.

  Sturdy and strong.

  Lady Tōmatsu looked terrified, clinging to the ropes of the swaying basket as they rose ever higher into the sky above the twinkling lights of the capital. Masuyo pretended not to notice Lady Tōmatsu’s discomfort and fear.

  Masuyo gestured with her hands to demonstrate the hand over hand climbing motion needed for ascending the rope ladder.

  “You next,” said Masuyo. “I’ve done it before. Just hold tight and place your foot solidly before you reach for the next hold. Give me your sandals. I’ll bring them up for you. It will be easier to climb in just your tabi.” She put Lady Tōmatsu’s sandals into her small knapsack and fastened it. She tugged once more on Lady Tōmatsu’s safety harness. “See? This won’t let you fall. Now climb, quickly.”

  Lady Tōmatsu climbed, a sight no one who knew her socially would believe, even if they saw her with their own eyes. She moved slowly, cautiously, awkwardly, her habitual perfect grace mangled by the extraordinary task set for her. She struggled with her kimono until she figured out how to kick the silk folds out of her way before placing each step. The wind from their speed tugged at her, dismantling her carefully done hair, until it streamed free like a long ebony banner floating on the wind. Finally she reached the top.

  Jiro’s men pulled her to safety in another tremendous shock to her dignity, to be so manhandled by men of vastly inferior rank, tugging her over the rim of the airship. Masuyo was certain the grand dame would rather have died than be subjected to such treatment, but it was necessary. Lady Tōmatsu would survive to live with her eternal embarrassment. And with her precious son.

  Jiro gestured to Masuyo and shouted for her to climb.

  Masuyo didn’t bother with a safety harness but tied the rope ladder to the side of the swaying basket to give it a little stability. As she climbed, she pretended to more confidence than she felt. The first time she climbed a swaying rope ladder she had been fleeing for her life from horsemen with arrows and guns, which focused her mind on getting up fast. This time, she was tempted to enjoy the view, but the sight of the ground flying by below made her dizzy when she tried. Better climb and climb fast. Climbing was easier for her in boots and trousers than it had been for poor Lady Tōmatsu tangled up in her kimono.

  Soon Jiro’s crewmen were tugging her over the edge to safety.

  Masuyo turned to Jiro.

  “Captain, next stop, Chiyoda Castle. Can you hover us in place without landing?”

  Jiro scoffed. “Can a fish swim? Can Jiro design anything?”

  “To Chiyoda, Jiro. Now, please.” Masuyo shook her head fondly at the exuberant Jiro.

  Once over the heart of the Chiyoda castle compound, Masuyo gave the next command. Jiro and Takamori watched with pride as she led with calm authority. It was her idea after all, and she was the commanding officer on this particular mission.

  “Lights!” Crewmen lighted fifty small lanterns affixed to the sides of the ship. They were no longer hiding. Each lantern alone was puny, casting a dim yellow glow. Together, they collectively made a great light, illuminating the ship and the dragon image beneath. An extra dozen lights ringed the great dragon’s head prow.

  Like a glowing oval ring of fire, the dirigible floated in the sky.

  “Sound the horns!”

  With great enthusiasm, crewmembers blasted the ship’s foghorn and a handful of other horns of various types assembled for the purpose. They generated a horrendous cacophony, as though demons unleashed from hell were howling their excitement.

  “Drums!”

  A professional taiko player recruited from Sendai beat upon his giant drum, which was fastened firmly to the deck.

  Masuyo peered over the rim to check her work.

  As she had hoped, hundreds of soldiers, perhaps thousands, streamed out of buildings, torches in hand, waving and shouting up at the airship. The first arrows pierced the sky nearby, falling harmlessly back to the ground.

  “I think we have their attention.” She smiled with satisfaction. “Bombs away!”

  Her crew threw overboard not bombs, but thousands of fluttering strips of paper, filled with a handful of messages, each labeled “A Message to Our Honored Leader Shogun.” Fukoku kyōhei. Unite against the foreign barbarians. Educate our people. Work with us to build our country. One nation under one Shogun and one Emperor. United we stand, divided we fall. We come in peace to build prosperity together. Time is short, we must act now, together. Join us and together we will overcome all obstacles.

  The arrows were coming closer now.

  Masuyo nodded to Jiro to take them up. As he shouted the command, she indicated that the crewmembers throwing the paper slips overboard should keep doing so. As the airship steamed up and back to the north and safety, it left in its wake on the streets of Edo and the towns above a long trail of fluttering papers, the first wave of many to follow, intended to reach the hearts of the people and win them to the side of the emergent revolution.

  Back at Aoba Castle, Lord and Lady Tōmatsu’s reunion was as chilly and formal as any Masuyo had ever witnessed. She found them difficult to understand, for her own dear father was always affectionate and loving with her, even as he tried in vain to get her to behave in pu
blic when others were about.

  The daimyō and his wife bowed to each other stiffly. They inquired after each other’s health. They pronounced themselves most pleased to see the other in such fine health.

  Lady Tōmatsu handed her husband their shrieking son, a spitting ball of squirmy toddler.

  “Your son is safe, thanks to Lady Aya.”

  “Yokatta. That’s good.” Lord Tōmatsu turned to Masuyo, still in her glorious uniform. “Hontoni arigatō. Your hard work and courage is much appreciated, Lady Aya.”

  Masuyo murmured, “Dō itashimashite.”

  She turned away to give them privacy.

  Lord Tōmatsu pulled his son to his chest and tilted his head to bury his face in his son’s black hair. Masuyo saw the tears brimming in his eyes. She slipped away to join her friends while the reunited family retired to their quarters in Lord Date’s castle.

  Tōru, Jiro, Takamori, Masuyo and Asano gathered in the kitchen of the great castle. The air was still sullied and sere between Tōru and Masuyo, but the others did their best not to notice. Masuyo refused to give Tōru a moment alone to apologize.

  They were all hungry after the excitement of the rescue. They were eager to spend some time together without all the formality required when the great lords were in council. The revolution was theirs, their ideas and their energy, but in a world of strict hierarchy, their elders would be deciding strategy, not them. Painful as it was for them to watch the ponderous discussions creep forward, their junior status forced patience upon them.

  “Do you think they’ll let you stay dressed like that?” asked the irrepressible Jiro. He had given Masuyo the last scraps of his carefully hoarded golden braid to decorate her uniform and obtained for her the smallest boots in all of Japan to fit her tiny feet. He nodded with a certain proprietary pride in her outfit. “You were magnificent, up there shouting commands.”

  Masuyo smiled demurely. “It was important for the mission that I be appropriately dressed and able to move freely. On mission, yes, I believe so.”