The Seabird of Sanematsu (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

This was when and how she would die. His right hand lay on the scabbard, the left poised to move to the hilt, the other man behind her. Her error could cost her life! His black eyes glared at her from the warlord’s hard face.

“I mean no disrespect, sire.” Aderyn thought fast. “Surely, much of my speech is as funny to you, as unpracticed as I am with your language.”

She waited several long moments as Sanematsu mulled over her comments. She hoped she had placated him by returning his pride.

“Yes.”

He pulled his hand away from the sword and waved the guard back to his place. He fingered the hem of his sleeve, taking great pains to study the stitching. Aderyn suspected he was forming his next inquiry and that it would involve language.

“Does your name have a meaning?”

“It is Welsh for bird.” Aderyn felt a rush of relief at having escaped death a second time.

“Hmmm.” Sanematsu eased back, his right arm on the armrest. “Maybe I should call you ‘Ko-tori’ or ‘Tori.’ They are our words for bird, and since our women are given names of two syllables, Tori will fit you.”

“As you wish, Sanematsu-sama.” Her level of comfort increased. It shouldn’t be so, as he was daimyo, a respected feudal lord, and she his prisoner.

“Yes, Tori is much better, formally. Personally, I will call you Ko-tori--little bird.”

**
*

Sanematsu relaxed. Not only was this girl intelligent, she was diplomatic. Sachi had taught her well about the relationship between master and servant. The barbarian realized he could not afford to be an object of ridicule.

“Lord Sanematsu? Since you have asked mine, may I ask your age?”

With a freedom he seldom allowed, he roared with laughter. She was not to be a disappointment! Failing to consider the propriety of her questions, not thinking twice before speaking her mind, she was open and honest with him. Nor did she avoid his glare, as even the bravest warrior would do.

“I have seen twenty-five new years.” He composed himself to ask the necessary questions. “Tell me, what reason have you to be near our land?”

“I can better tell you why I was here if I knew where ‘here’ is.” The unique green eyes flashed with pleasure. Her lips formed a soft grin.

He could see no harm in telling her. It was unlikely she would find her way back to wherever it was she sprang from.

“You are in Nihon, on the west side of the southernmost island, Kyushu. The city nearby is Nishikata, the seat of government for the Satsuma Province.”

“My father is…was a trader.” Now the grin faded, and her gaze dropped. The hitherto straight shoulders rounded, and the front of her robes gaped open, revealing a deep cleavage. Sanematsu’s concern was not for the bosom, but the sadness that filled the stranger.

She blanched and struggled to remain calm and unemotional. How difficult it must be to speak of her family and the life that was lost forever.

“We lived in Macao while he made his trips to the Philippines and Korea.”

She paused. The pulse at the base of her throat raced and her breath became erratic. She was close to losing control, but he did not think she would. She was too strong.

“We were traveling to a new trading house when the rocks in your ocean interfered.”

She stiffened her back, and her gaze lifted to his face, clear and bright. The grief threatening to break through moments before was well in hand again.

Again, the barbarian exhibited her diplomacy. She thought better of bringing up the matter of his soldiers assaulting the sinking ship. Or perhaps she believed the ship’s breaching on the rocks had led to the slaughter. What did it matter?

“You are not of Min-koku or Chosen. Where do you call your homeland?” Sanematsu leaned forward, his elbows on the armrests on either side of him, his hands together to support his chin. Though touched by her pain, he could not voice his pity for her and her loss.

“I have great difficulty in answering that question, especially in the manner you have asked it.” She held herself erect, sure and proud once more. “You are very right, Lord Sanematsu, when you say I am not of China or Korea.” She stopped and wrung her hands. Her emotions rose, but it was confusion that clouded her eyes now instead of grief. “This is hard. Are you aware of lands other than your own? Many of our own people are afraid of the dragons and the vast unknown of boundless water.”

He watched her. Their eyes met and held.

“I am aware of other countries.” He could not give away more information than he received. To give her his knowledge would allow his barbarian to keep secrets if she wished. “Continue.”

“I was born on the trip bringing my mother and three sisters to Macao, so that is the only place I know to call home. I say, then, with all honesty, Asia is my homeland.” The confusion left her voice, replaced with confidence.

“I will have to form some purpose for your presence here,” he mused out loud.

“I did not ask to come here,” Aderyn blurted.

“That will help.”

He allowed a bit of a smile. Did she realize how close she came to death each time she spoke without thinking? Sachi would have to see to this area of her teaching. He did not wish to lose this seabird just yet.

“How?” The question narrowed her green eyes as she continued to look at him.

“Nihon has long been…closed to visitors. We are too concerned in our own dealings to wish to be involved with others.” He would not go further into matters of government. Such were no affair of a barbarian female. She did not need to know of her increased peril. Or that she put him in it with her.

**
*

Sanematsu smiled fully for the first time. It looked as if it were an expression foreign to his face, but one that face could get used to. For that brief moment, his whole countenance was alight, and his eyes twinkled.

He should try it more often.

“I have spoken of the need to open Nihon to the world many times. Alas, the Council refuses to back me, so I must hold my tongue and ally myself with those who follow the Shogun.” He paused, and the rare smile faded. After he appeared to shake off some bad thoughts, he continued. “I have always been very curious about life outside our world. Would you be disposed to share it with me, Tori?”

“Sire, I spent only a few brief years in Portugal and must admit I did not like it there. I would be honored to tell you what I have learned from my parents and teachers.”

The time she spent in her father’s homeland had been awkward. She knew how to comport herself in Macao and China, but Lisbon’s customs were foreign and unpleasant. She had cried nightly to return to Asia, her home.

Now it struck her--the key to her survival was his desire for knowledge.

“That would be more information than I have. We will go to the garden for tea.”

The warrior rose in one easy movement, his sword in his hand. He remained standing for a moment while he slid the scabbard into his girdle and flounced the tail of his jacket out behind him.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Behind her, the panel moved. With as much grace as possible, Aderyn stood and waited for Sanematsu to walk out the door ahead of her. Three guards from inside followed them, while two more men from outside preceded Lord Sanematsu. They now surrounded her.

She hurried, hindered by her narrow-skirted dress, to keep up with his long steps. She concentrated on keeping her head bowed and her hands clasped before her. Sanematsu walked up the two steps to the garden pavilion and settled on a zabuton with both back and armrests, indicating Aderyn should take the one at his right. She obeyed, thankful her seat provided the sturdy padded backrest. Kneeling for such a long time already had her back aching.

In moments, Sachi and Tsuta arrived with a maid who carried a tray and service for tea. The ladies settled near them and began to serve. Sachi glanced at her once, giving her a reassuring smile. It alleviated her unease.

“I do not know where to begin telling you of my land.” She sipped the tea, holding the small bowl as she had seen Sachi do in the palm of one hand, supporting it with the fingertips of the other.

“No, no,” Sanematsu admonished. “We will speak after tea.”

“Oh.” She did not know whether it was custom to remain silent or if her host used it as an excuse to enjoy the quiet. The garden was lush, providing shelter for birds and insects of all sorts. The colorful birds sang and chirped, filling the air with their avian conversation. A breeze dissipated the humidity, rustling through the trees while small animals stirred the shrubs.

So, they were silent as the teapot emptied. Tsuta never allowed Sanematsu’s bowl to remain empty, and Sachi saw to Aderyn’s in the same manner. Tsuta seemed to jump instants before Lord Sanematsu made his wishes known. He never said anything, yet the woman was always doing something for him. The beautiful lady glanced her way from time to time. Was this Sanematsu’s wife?

While she sipped, she studied her surroundings. Gardeners worked with diligent attention to weeding and planting small plants that would soon join the greenery growing in the courtyard. The colorful flowers’ heady aromas drifted on the air. She had missed the ocean, but now flowers were the most beautiful things on earth, most of all the deep purple irises so numerous in the garden.

Once they finished their tea, Tsuta and Sachi departed. Sanematsu let half a smile slip.

“You may begin.”

“But where, my lord? What do you know of the outer world?”

“I know what I must.”

“Well, then. My parents are…were from two different European countries. My father came from Portugal and my mother, Wales. They came to Asia when my father became a trader. We traveled overland, and I was born en route.”

“Where were you traveling to when your ship was destroyed?”

“To Macao. Father had bought into a trading house there.”

“The rest of your family…”

“I am the youngest of four girls.” She picked at the material of her osode. The sadness returned, her heart heavy with unshed tears.

“Your father was not…political, by chance, was he?”

“The only politics he cared about were those that kept him in business.” She paused and looked up at him. “Lord Sanematsu, what do the women of Nihon do to pass the time? All Sachi-sama and I have done is drink tea and talk. My hands are becoming restless.”

“A samurai does not concern himself with the business of women. What did you do in your world?”

“When we were not occupied with household chores, we played games. I read whatever I could get my hands on and I drew.”

“You are an artist?”

“I would not go that far, sire. But I do like to make pictures of what I see. It keeps my hands and mind occupied so I do not get into any mischief. I have a very great talent for straying into trouble.”

“I will have Sachi instruct you in our women’s pastimes. I would hardly wish for you to find your way into any misbehavior within my ryo-chi. Perhaps a brush and ink will suffice to keep you busy. Hikita-uji, send for paper and brushes for my guest.”

“Yes, sire.” The handsome man bowed from the waist then turned and went down the path. At the corner, a young boy knelt. He jumped to his feet, listened to the older man’s words and fled toward the castle. The samurai returned to the steps of the pavilion.

“Is that man my friend Sachi-sama’s husband?” Aderyn asked.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious.” She wished she had something to occupy her hands now so she could avoid his soft brown eyes. His look made her warm inside.

**
*

Sanematsu liked the way the hot tea flushed the woman’s face. As she ducked her head, he resisted the urge to push the waves of thick brown hair away so he could see the deep green eyes so rare to his world.

The feeling she stirred in him was strange--a risky desire to have her near him. He had enough to answer for because she was breathing. If she managed to get into trouble in her idle hours, he would have to respond to that, also, or she might find herself in danger he could not save her from.

Hikita’s command through the servant boy was obeyed in prompt order, and Ko-tori’s skill at working the ink stone into fluid ink impressed him. Within seconds, she had a bowl ready for use. She held the stone and brushes with the skill of a master calligrapher as she made several strokes of the brush. In a matter of minutes, she had completed a simple sketch of the area.