The Seabird of Sanematsu (24 page)

While Sachi did as he requested, he walked to the doorway. Hikita held an over-osode, and Sanematsu slipped his arms into it but left the edges open. He turned back to the women by the time Sachi produced a sheet of white silk covered with a large bloodstain.

“The evidence, my lords,” he said to the council and Shigehide. “Now. Sayo, you will take your foster daughter and leave my castle tonight. By the seventh sun, you will depart Nishikata, never to cross my line of vision again, or you will face the death you deserve.” He pulled the edges of his osode together, tying it with the sash Hikita handed him. “You, my grandfather and council, will leave the matter of my wife and heir to me. Find some other way to fill your time.”

He strode out of the chambers before anyone could challenge him. Hikita left with his master.

**
*

Aderyn had spied on him these past nights. Sachi had said he would leave at late morning of the third day. Why did he leave now, long before midnight? Could something have gone wrong with him and Tsuta? Dare she hope?

Her long osode, the outer robe of the same lavender uchiki she had worn the night Sanematsu spoke with her alone in his sleeping chamber, unfolded as she stood. Beneath the lightweight silk robe, she was nude. She liked the traditional costume most at night, after bath and before bed, the only time she could handle the sensation of feeling feminine.

Her spirits rose. Her heart pounded between her breasts as if she were a tiny bird; her breath came in short gasps, and her face heated. Not stopping to think whether it was a good time or not, she hurried to catch up with him.

“Lord Sanematsu?” she called when near enough for him to hear without her screaming in a rude manner. “Is everything all right?”

“Ko-tori.” He whirled, seeming, only for a moment, to smile. His disheveled garment did not cover his upper body and threatened to slip off his broad shoulders. He tried to slow his rapid breaths. “You are awake late.”

“I was retiring when I saw all the people.” She pointed to Tsuta’s room, where the group had thinned as they returned to their beds. “Are you well?”

**
*

Her question brought him out of his abstraction. Coming toward him in the moonlight, Tori’s osode, worn without an underskirt this late at night, pulled apart at the bust to reveal her deep cleavage and the soft upper curves of her breasts. He swallowed a lump in his throat and his warrior’s knees became weak. His loins churned with desire and his heart raced.

“Yes. Everything is quite well.” Now was not the best time to be with Tori. He was too vulnerable. “You should retire.”

“I was just going. Goodnight, Yoshihide-sama.” She turned to leave.

As she walked away in what seemed like slow motion, he could not look away. Her hair, piled on top of her head, left the smooth skin of her nape exposed.

Sanematsu felt as he had when Master Wada struck him in the pit of his stomach with the hilt of his sword during martial practice. At the cove, he had been affected by her sensual naked curves, but not to the degree the small patch of skin discreetly hidden with hair or silk by chaste women affected him at this moment. Tori could not consciously appear any more erotic than she did now, innocent in the moonlight. Sanematsu stared, as awkward as a teenager, as a rush of heat filled his Jade Root when she absentmindedly unpinned her hair.

As she walked away and the cascade of tresses fell to her thighs to curtain off his view of her nape, he found he could breathe, ashamed of himself and his episode of voyeurism. Embarrassed by his physical reaction and afraid of what it all meant, he rushed to his own quarters.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Without fanfare or concern, Tsuta disappeared from the castle; and within the week, Sayo’s teahouse closed, the women dispersing to parts unknown. No official announcement was made of the failed joining, but rumors abounded until everyone in Nishikata had learned of the attempt to fool Lord Sanematsu. That he saw through the deception was to his credit and increased his popularity with his peasants.

For several weeks, Sanematsu closed himself off to everyone in an attempt to come to terms with many things. The episode with Tori in the garden and his reaction were the most puzzling. As a man, he wanted her, but he did not wish to change their standing. They were friends, and he enjoyed that, for he had few male friends, much less female confidantes. To fulfill his desire would, he suspected, obliterate the companionship they had.

Yet, even if he could have both her body and her companionship, what if she did not feel the same? What if she did not desire him at all? He didn’t dare seek the answer, for he could not face Ko-tori’s rejection.

**
*

The barbarian problem perplexed another of Nishikata-jyo’s long-time inhabitants. Haru, widow of Lord Katayama and half-sister to Sanematsu, was pleased when Tsuta was cast away and the balance of power maintained. But Yoshihide’s actions in regard to the one he called Tori had not changed and threatened to proceed in a most disagreeable direction.

Her reliable spy network reported his brooding over the barbarian, and this afternoon she was informed of his council meeting in which he told them he would no longer attend further meetings. What could this mean? Was he no longer taking the elders’ advice into consideration? Was he planning to dissolve the council? Although it was well within his right to do so, what would result? More importantly, how could she ensure her position?

These recent events had put Haru’s power over her brother in question. Power increased her happiness, and she did not relish the idea of giving it up to any woman. When Yoshihide’s mother fled to the convent in the wake of her husband’s death, Haru had moved into the position as head of his household. She resented her brother’s maleness, for it alone gave him his position and authority. Usually, she could manipulate him in small but significant ways, yet always over her head was the threat of a new Sanematsu wife.

Now her peril lay in the increasing power of Sachi and the yabanjin. Why was Hikita’s woman so important to Sanematsu? Was she a former lover? Haru did not think so. A man of pride, Hikita Takayasu would not remain loyal if that were the case. The reason her brother had turned to Sachi for help with his foreigner could have been because her husband was the most trusted of Sanematsu’s men. Whatever the motive, it displeased her.

The yabanjin’s influence grew, and the girl had Sanematsu’s respect. Haru had been certain he would soon tire of his plaything, but he remained enthralled as she led him around like a puppy. Her spies denied anything carnal took place between the daimyo and the girl, and she was sure Tori would be cast aside if he but once took her upon the futon. How could an uncivilized woman pillow a civilized man in a satisfactory manner? It would be like coupling with an animal!

Still, as long as Tori lived, she threatened Haru’s position. What could be done? Sanematsu paid no heed to the men around him who offered advice about what should be done with the barbarian. What could his sister do they could not?

She could see that her brother selected husbands for his daughters who could pose no problem for her own son’s ascension, should the feudal lord die without heir. As long as Yoshihide fathered daughters, Haru had no need to worry, but she had to keep her position for her future to be secure.

The time had come for her to speak with her brother and assure her base of power.

By the time she reached Sanematsu’s doorway, Haru had worked herself into a fury. Two guards stood there to protect the daimyo from anyone who wished him harm. She swept her bulk past them without a glance.

Her brother sat in a simple, long hitatare, drinking sake poured for him by a maid. His legs were bare, and his chest and that part of him necessary for modesty covered. She wondered if he had, or was about to, enjoy the pleasures of Kiyo’s young body?

Seeing Kiyo heartened her. Like all higher society men of Nihon, her brother kept consorts for the times of his wives’ infirmities, childbirth, monthly courses or simply for diversion. For him to have Kiyo in attendance so soon after Tsuta’s fiasco showed he was concerned with his body’s health and needs.

And his choice was Nihonese. If he had an appetite for foreign flesh, would he not have rushed to the yabanjin?

“Sanematsu-sama, may I speak with you?”

“Of course, Haru-sama.” Sanematsu drained the small bowl and held it out for more. “Be seated. Would you care for wine? Tea?”

“No, thank you. I will take little of your time.” She settled on the cushion beside him.

**
*

“Well?” He didn’t hide his impatience. “What brings you out of the women’s quarters? You have hardly stirred from your rooms, even when summoned, for the past moon. And have dealt with matters of your own choosing instead of those I have asked of you.”

Sanematsu was on his third flask of sake, the fourth bowl since Haru had entered.

“I find it distasteful that you should attempt to father an heir with a mere consort,” she began scolding. “You are samurai. Further, you disgrace the bushi with your lust for the yabanjin.”

“
What?
”

Kiyo moved to dab sake from his hitatare and chin as he sputtered. When he waved her away, she filled the bowl again.

“Kiyo-sama.” Haru addressed the consort. “You may leave. I will attend our lord.”

Kiyo awaited his signal of agreement before she fluttered out.

“It is incorrect for you to allow her to contaminate your household,” Haru continued. “She is given too much freedom, especially with your daughters. They can speak of almost nothing else!” She poured sake without the artistry of Kiyo. “I have a difficult task keeping the servants from gossiping about the two of you. It will destroy you, Yoshihide-ue!” She used the familial honorific.

“Do not presume to tell me what will destroy me! If I wish to be destroyed, there are many within this castle’s very walls who would gladly do it without Tori’s help!”

“I wish only to aid you, sire.”

He saw through her feigned meekness.

“What will you do about Kyoto? Can you trust your men while you are gone?”

She spoke of his year of alternate attendance, a time the Shogun could call at any moment. He awaited the summons with dread.

“Can I trust you while I am away? I can trust no one where Tori is concerned!”

“She is your consort, my lord. No one will dare to touch a woman of yours.”

“She is no consort! And even my wives are not safe from those who wish to insult me by pillowing them. Masa is dead because of it, with my second son! Tori is my guest and will be treated as such.” He drank, hoping to wash away the dread, fear and attraction he had for Tori.

“As you say. What shall you do about those at Bakafu? You have not even informed them of her presence.”

“I am sure my oversight will be corrected,” he said with heavy sarcasm.

The military camp in Kyoto ruled all of Nihon with a heavy hand. The generals appointed by the Ten-nou used knowledge for and against the other daimyo to prevent their rebellion.

“What if Ashikaga-sama orders you to bring your yabanjin to Kyoto? How will you keep her out of his hands?”

The Ashikaga had seized control of the Kyoto government in 1338 to establish the Bakafu, the government of the shogun, in the Muromachi district. Because of Kyushu’s remoteness from the Bakafu, the daimyo there tended to be more autonomous, picking and choosing which imperial edicts they chose to observe. Sanematsu, being the highest-ranking of the lords, set the tone of those choices. The Sanematsu daimyo were powerful, but not embroiled in political intrigue--he kept his hand in the political stew as self-protection.

Nevertheles, the possibility of Ashikaga demanding Tori be brought before him for trial and execution had come up often in his thoughts. If the Bakafu knew of her presence, they would not hesitate to demand she appear before them. Only one way would she escape being taken into custody for either imprisonment or death. He was not sure even of that, because it had never been tried. Still, he had never heard of the shogun taking away a man’s wife.

“There is a way,” he said nonetheless. “She would at least be protected from Ashikaga-sama.”

Beneath the chalky white court make-up Haru blanched. “I have always believed you one step short of simpleminded, but this all but proves it.” In her fury, the words tumbled forth. “No daimyo in his right mind would consider taking a yabanjin, a non-person, as wife. You would not dare to disgrace the clan in such a way!”

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do!” The shoji shook with his shout. “You may be twenty years older than I, and if the gods of Nihon have any wisdom, you will be well into your next life before I depart this one, but that does not give you the right to dictate to me, Lord of the Satsuma Province of Kyushu, Master of Nishikata-jyo! I am your liege lord. I grant what authority you have! You are here because I need you. If you must speak to me at all, make it about those areas that are your concern!”

Sanematsu rose. For one of the few times in his life, he was enraged, and the loss of his temper dispelled his stress. Fed up with people telling him what to do and not to do, he did not care if the entire household heard the confrontation. They thought he could not rule his ryo-chi without their advice. No one had ever let him, so how did they know what he was capable of?

Then, calm in appearance but seething beneath the surface, he resettled himself on the zabuton. Haru filled his sake bowl, and he drained it in a gulp. She poured more.

“I am sorry if my concern has distressed you, sire,” she said through gritted teeth. “There is a matter which, as you point out, is of my concern. Your stepdaughter, Aya-hime--”

“I know my daughters’ names!”

“She has reached the age when she should be betrothed. You should begin to think about a proper joining.”

“Very well,” he said after he drank more of the rice wine. “I am sure go-betweens have approached you on behalf of ambitious lords. Prepare a listing, and I will choose.” He would have to discover the samurai who had caught Aya’s eye and hope he was not already betrothed. “If that is all, you may depart.”

“Yes, sire.” Haru bowed to him. “Do you wish me to have Kiyo-sama summoned?”

“No. I am tired and will retire.” He finished the bowl he held. Kiyo had failed to touch him, though his body spilled its seed into her as designed. Pillowing had begun to increase his frustration so he decided he would no longer pillow.

“Goodnight, my brother.” Haru lumbered to her feet. The shoji opened, and she left.

Sanematsu rose, intent on removing his hitatare. On the other side of the room, a shoji moved without sound and Yaemon entered.

“My master, so sorry. There is a messenger from Lord Matsumoto.”

“Send him in.” Sanematsu closed his hitatare and sat.

“Sire.” The messenger prostrated himself.

“What is it?” He was curt to the samurai--Lord Uesugi’s eldest son, one of the new warriors, who had been assigned to Matsumoto’s regiment in the Northwest Province.

Uesugi Tadakuni handed him a small scroll sealed with the Sanematsu kamon. He broke the wax crest, unrolled it then swept his eyes over the characters.

“Go to the guardhouse. Tell the commander to prepare the men for traveling. Then go to the kitchen. They will feed you. We leave within the hour.”

Hungry samurai were poor warriors, and young men of Uesugi’s age were never satisfied.

“Yes, sire.” Uesugi bowed once more and was gone.

“Yaemon-dono.” The boy was in the room before a second passed. “Ready my things for battle. I will return shortly.”

Sanematsu left the room in a whirl. He had someone else to see.

**
*

Aderyn sat at her sewing, a candle providing light to see by. The rest of the room was dark, shadows flickering around her work area. The piece was almost finished; all that was left was to thread it on the leather thong she had asked Sachi to obtain for her earlier in the day.

She had lain down hours before, but sleep would not come. She had opened the shoji to allow a breeze to enter and the room had grown quite cold; a servant had come earlier to see if she wanted the charcoal brazier lit. She had declined, not being bothered by the temperature.