The Gilded Fan (Choc Lit)

by Courtenay, Christina

  I mustn’t panic. Keep calm, breathe.

  But never in all her life had she felt this afraid, this helpless and so utterly, devastatingly alone. There were people all around her, but they weren’t the kind of people she was used to associating with. Most were not of her rank, just common persons, even hinin – beggars and other social offenders – and eta, the extremely unclean, lowest of the low. She pitied them, naturally, but wanted to shout out loud that she didn’t belong here. Her status as the daughter of a daimyo should have afforded her better treatment and saved her from this, but the truth was they were all equals here. All at the mercy of their gaolers. Here, I am nobody.

  ‘Father, Mother, please help me,’ she prayed. She doubted if anything but the intervention of spirits could save her now.

  An all-pervasive fear spread through her veins, paralysing her from head to toe until she felt as though she’d never be able to move again. She wanted to scream, but her jaw was stuck, so she couldn’t open her mouth wide enough. And she couldn’t breathe properly because her ribcage wouldn’t budge.

  Where is Ichiro? Would no one help her? But then how could he when to do so would be to risk his own life and the honour of the clan?

  He’d already done so much …

  The morning after Ichiro told her she had to leave, a small party assembled in the castle courtyard just after dawn. Midori looked around in surprise. She had expected a retinue of well over a hundred men, since Ichiro never travelled anywhere with less, but today there were only ten mounted guards and no baggage of any kind. She frowned as she walked across the cobbled stones.

  She had dressed in clothing similar to the men’s. This made it easier to ride and protected her legs from scratches and cuts. By the time her brother emerged from the main building, she was already astride her horse, having mounted without assistance. She liked to be self-sufficient in everything.

  ‘Where is my hawk?’ Ichiro’s voice rang out, imperious as always and so like their late father’s it made Midori’s heart constrict.

  ‘Here, my lord.’ A man ran forward and handed his master the hooded bird of prey with a deep bow.

  ‘Are we ready?’ There were murmurs of assent. ‘Then, let us depart. I wish to find some sport before the sun is too high.’

  As they clattered out through the gates and across the moat, Midori rode up beside him and leaned over to whisper, ‘Where are my things? Aren’t we leaving today after all?’

  ‘Yes, but I think we’re being watched, so we have to pretend we are only going hawking today. I sent someone ahead into the forest last night with our belongings and provisions for the journey. More men will follow us in a couple of days and when they catch up with us, I’ll send someone back with the bird.’

  Midori nodded. She trusted Ichiro implicitly and if he thought this subterfuge was necessary, she wouldn’t argue with him. No one watching their departure would assume Ichiro was going very far, she thought. Her brother had planned well.

  ‘The castle was rife with rumour all day yesterday and I also thought if I was seen to go hunting, seemingly without a care in the world, it might calm everyone down,’ Ichiro said.

  ‘Good point. If there was truly any danger, you would hardly risk venturing into the woods with so few men.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Ichiro smiled at her, then spurred his horse into a canter.

  They rode up the hill towards the temple and she restrained the urge to turn and look back at the castle more than once. Although she knew this was probably the last time she would ever see the place which had been her home for nineteen years, she didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions. Besides, if she closed her eyes she could easily conjure up an image of the castle and its surroundings and she doubted she would ever forget it.

  ‘Here, take the bird for a while.’ Ichiro handed over the beautiful creature, obviously in an effort to divert her from her sad thoughts.

  Midori sent him a smile of gratitude. ‘Thank you. Am I that transparent?’

  ‘Only occasionally. There are times when you are a little like your mother. She never could hide her emotions.’

  ‘I know.’ It was one of the things about Hannah that her father had loved and Midori remembered him teasing her mother about it. With an effort she put thoughts of her parents out of her mind and adjusted her glove to protect her wrist from the sharp talons of the bird, which shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. She concentrated on admiring the creature as its feathers gleamed a deep amber in the rays of the morning sun and the slight breeze rippled through the shiny surface.

  The temple bell clanged as they rode past, stirring up memories of that cold day last winter. Midori shivered. It didn’t matter whether she ever saw her mother’s grave again, since her spirit travelled with her. Nevertheless, she glanced towards the burial ground out of the corner of her eye and sent up a prayer to the gods to keep the rest of her mother’s and father’s ashes safe.

  A short distance along the track a man waited with spare horses loaded with provisions for the journey and Midori’s belongings. She had only packed a single bamboo basket, lined and covered with oiled cloth and tied at the top so the contents couldn’t spill out. As the servant brought the pack horse alongside Midori’s own she noticed the fastenings had come undone on her basket and ordered the man to halt for a moment so she could retie them. As she bent to perform this task, however, she drew in a sharp breath.

  ‘Ichiro, someone’s tampered with my things.’ She looked at her brother, who came over to peer into the opening.

  He frowned. ‘How do you know? It looks undisturbed to me.’

  ‘I packed my amber-coloured kimono last, as it’s my least precious one, but now the blue one is on top. See?’

  ‘Hmm. Well, you’ll have to check later to see if anything is missing. We don’t have time to stop now.’ Ichiro looked around them with narrowed eyes, as if he was afraid they were being spied on at this very moment. ‘We must make haste, away from here.’

  Midori nodded. He was right and, if anything had been taken, there was nothing she could do about it now.

  Later, when they stopped for a quick meal, Midori emptied out the contents of her basket to see if anything was missing, but everything was still there.

  ‘I think someone just searched through my belongings, then put them back, although in the wrong order,’ she told Ichiro. ‘As far as I can tell, all the silver you gave me is still sewn inside my garments and the few trinkets I brought are intact.’ She didn’t tell Ichiro about the golden cross, but she had squeezed the seam in which she’d hidden it to make sure the package was still where she had put it and to her relief had felt the small bump inside.

  ‘Good. Perhaps they were just checking to see what you brought.’ Ichiro didn’t seem unduly concerned and Midori tried to relax. She was probably making too much of this, but it was hard to quell the anxiety altogether.

  ‘You really think someone’s watching us?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yes. Whoever told the Shogun of your existence must bear us a grudge. There wouldn’t be any point in informing the authorities unless you knew something was going to be done about it. They will have made sure the Shogun’s men know your whereabouts.’

  ‘It still doesn’t make sense. What have I ever done?’

  ‘It’s not you personally they’re after. If you were taken and burned, it would be seen as confirmation that I had harboured a Christian in my household and therefore brought dishonour on the entire clan. There are certain of our neighbours who wouldn’t be unhappy if such a fate should befall us.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Ichiro put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. ‘Stop worrying. I know my lands better than anyone. Father taught me well. I will take you to Nagasaki safely.’

  ‘Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry to be putting you to so
much trouble.’

  ‘Think nothing of it. You’re the only sibling I have left, so of course I’ll do everything I can to help you.’ Midori could see the deep affection in his eyes and knew that although he’d never say it out loud, he loved her, as she did him.

  Midori thought of the others, two older sisters she had never known who had died young, and a little brother who hadn’t made it past his first birthday. ‘I suppose it’s just as well there is only me,’ she said. It had made the bond between them stronger. ‘Can I write to you, do you think?’ She didn’t want the link severed completely, even if they never saw each other again.

  ‘You can always try. Perhaps the trading ships could bring your missives. I will have to find a trustworthy individual in Nagasaki who can forward any letters to me. I’ll see what I can arrange …’

  Midori had thought imprisonment would become easier to bear at night, when she couldn’t see the filth around her or the other miserable inmates, but she soon found out she was wrong.

  With darkness came all sorts of sounds, magnified by her suddenly more acute hearing, and they all increased her terror tenfold. The rustling of the cockroaches and rats on the floor made it seem as if it was teeming with wildlife, even though she knew there probably weren’t as many as she was imagining. The sinister wheezing of someone’s breath appeared to be right next to her ear, rather than at arm’s length. Worst of all, the screams of some poor soul being tortured echoed around the prison with alarming clarity now they were no longer drowned out by everyone else’s chatter or moaning.

  As the hours passed she started to calm down and tried to make her brain function enough to make some sort of plan. She had to help herself, and there must be a way out of here, if only she could think of something. Unfortunately, being terrified had a way of freezing her thought processes, which didn’t help. Pulling herself together, she took some deep, calming breaths and tried to meditate.

  She heard the door being opened, but kept her eyes closed and continued with her soothing mantra. Going deeper and deeper inside her own mind, she attempted to reach a state of utter calm. She was almost there, when a hand grabbed her arm and she was roughly yanked to her feet.

  ‘Your turn. The judge wants to see you,’ a harsh voice informed her.

  ‘What? Who? No! Where are you taking me?’ Midori felt dazed and confused, her brain not yet fully returned to earth, but she knew one thing for sure – she didn’t want to be taken anywhere else. This room may be a nightmare, but there was a certain safety here, nevertheless.

  The guard didn’t pay any attention to her protests, but hauled her out through the door and across a courtyard. Through a gate they went, Midori digging in her heels as best she could. It was to no avail as he was a strong man. They continued along a corridor where the sounds of the torture victim’s screams became louder. Midori’s stomach cramped with fear. She wasn’t afraid of the kind of pain encountered in normal, everyday life, such as could be caused by accidents or fighting, but the excruciating pain inflicted here, on purpose, was something else altogether. Thinking about it would only make matters worse, however, so instead she tried to memorise details of her surroundings. If she was to escape, knowing her way around would be vital.

  The man came to a halt at last and knocked on a door, which was thrown open from inside on squeaking hinges. With his hand still clamped around Midori’s arm, he pulled her through, leading her down the middle of a long, dimly lit room. It looked a bit like Ichiro’s Great Hall, although on a smaller scale. The painted scrolls decorating the walls were slightly frayed at the edges and the tatami mats none too clean. Nevertheless, it was an imposing chamber, no doubt designed to intimidate the accused prisoners brought here. There was a distinct smell of fear in the air, making Midori take shallow breaths in order to avoid breathing it in.

  ‘I can walk by myself,’ she hissed, but the guard refused to let go of her arm.

  Her eyes darted around to see what or whom she was up against. On the dais at the other end sat a small, wizened man in black robes and with a black hat set on top of his white hair. A pointy goatee beard and drooping moustache, together with the oblong shape of his face and barely visible eyes, made him look like a disaffected rat. When he started to speak, Midori wasn’t surprised to see that he had rather large, protruding front teeth. She concentrated on the image of a rodent in order to distract her mind from all the other thoughts crowding into it, so as not to show any signs of fear. I’m not afraid of rats.

  ‘Kumashiro Midori,’ the man stated. ‘You have been arrested by order of the Shogun as a gai-jin and traitor. Do you have anything to say?’

  ‘I am not a gai-jin, my lord, I am a true Nihon-jin and I would fight to the death for my country and the Shogun. I have been falsely accused, I know not by whom,’ she stated boldly, raising her chin a notch for added measure.

  ‘We have it on good authority your mother was a foreigner and a Christian. You have been tainted by her,’ the man said, his tone emotionless.

  ‘No!’ The word came out a bit too forcefully, so Midori took a deep breath before continuing. She had to stay calm, had to convince them somehow. ‘That is, yes, my mother was a foreigner, but I didn’t adopt her faith. I follow my father’s teachings, nothing else.’

  ‘I think not. You have been observed.’ The man rustled some pieces of paper and peered at one. ‘It says here you have been heard praying to the Christian god and that you own a symbol which signifies your acceptance of this faith.’ He beckoned to someone next to him who held up a small gold cross on a chain. Midori blinked.

  No, it can’t be!

  ‘This belongs to you, neh?’ Rat-face took it from his henchman and threw it at her contemptuously. With quick reflexes she caught the offending object, staring at it in disbelief and almost with loathing. Such a small, pretty thing, but so dangerous. I should never have kept it.

  ‘I … it was my mother’s. She left it to me as a keepsake, but it means nothing to me other than that. I swear.’ Midori clenched her fists in frustration, slipping the offending item into a secret pocket inside her sleeve. How had they got hold of it? She’d been so sure it was well hidden, but she realised now that whoever had searched her basket must have unpicked the seam, then put the parcel back inside without the cross. She cursed inwardly; she should have made sure. But who had done such a thing and why? There must have been someone in Ichiro’s household spying on her, perhaps even one of her own servants.

  ‘I see you are proving difficult.’ The man nodded to himself, as if this was something he had already expected. ‘Well, we shall soon see if you change your tune. Tie her up and take her away.’ With a flick of the wrist, he dismissed her from his sight and the guard shoved her in the direction of two coarse-looking individuals.

  ‘No! I can prove it. I’ll sign a declaration, anything …’ Midori tried to protest further, but was cut off by a cuff across the cheek.

  ‘Let’s go.’ The taller of the two men dragged her away and she knew then that Ichiro had been right all along – no one would listen to her. No one would believe her.

  She had lost.

  Chapter Seven

  Outside the main gate of the prison, Nico was wondering if he’d taken leave of his senses. What on earth possessed me to offer to help? Any sensible man would have boarded his ship, not become embroiled in some doomed rescue attempt because of a misguided sense of duty towards a woman he’d only met once. Even if she is an outsider here like me. He didn’t have any guarantees that Kumashiro wouldn’t just use him and leave him to his fate. After all, he barely knew the man.

  Nico sighed. Obviously I’m not sane in the least, but now the die is cast and I have to go through with it.

  Following Kumashiro’s instructions, he had poured an entire keg of sake down the front of his jacket and drunk a few mouthfuls as well. The alcoholic fumes and cloying smell of the rice
wine was making him feel nauseous, but he swallowed hard and tried to ignore it. Summoning up his best acting skills, he began to make his way along the street outside the prison. He weaved drunkenly from side to side and made sure he stumbled on anything big enough to trip over. He filled his lungs with air and began to sing a loud and raucous ditty, the only one he could remember the words to at the moment. Inwardly, he prayed.

  The effect of his little charade was almost instantaneous, as Kumashiro had predicted. The gate was flung open and guards swarmed out of the prison compound as if they were under attack, surrounding him faster than he had thought possible. Swords were pointed at him, and he held up his hands in mock surrender and laughed out loud. Then he ended his song with a large belch and a hiccough.

  ‘What’s this? Nani? Are we having a parade?’ He swayed exaggeratedly on his feet, danced a little jig, then took a step backwards, almost tripping over his own feet.

  A stream of Japanese words were fired at him by the man who appeared to be in charge. Although Nico understood the gist of it, he pretended ignorance and raised his sake bottle in a clumsy salute. ‘Kampai!’ He nodded at the man. ‘Bottoms up.’

  More angry words followed, but Nico became engrossed in the fact that his bottle was now empty. He shook it repeatedly, as if to see whether there was anything left inside. ‘I want more!’ he bellowed. ‘Mo ichi,’ he repeated in Japanese, pointing at the bottle.

  The head of the guard was now holding a whispered conversation with a fellow officer and Nico heard him muttering, ‘Baka gai-jin’ – stupid foreigner – several times, which he took to be a good sign. If they thought him a fool, they might consider him harmless. There was a lot of pointing towards the prison, as well as in the opposite direction towards the harbour, as if the two men couldn’t agree on a course of action. Nico ignored them and started on another ditty in a voice which was anything but melodious.