Journey Through Fire (15 page)

“Hana—”

A foot landed in the small of my back, pushing me forward so that my head plunged into the ice-cold water. I rolled onto my back and kicked my feet into the air, propelling myself up into a standing position. I gave a double-handed punch and felt the taut skin of a stomach beneath my fist. The man gasped in pain. My eyes adjusted to the night, and I could see him writhing on the ground. I brought my foot up and prepared to smash my heel into his face, but then I changed my mind and arced my leg around in a low kick that caught his cowl and tore it from his head.

“Who are you?” I hissed, lunging forward, trying
to see what my attack had revealed. But whoever he was scrambled away and pulled the fabric over his face, before springing back up. He kicked out his right heel, straight into my shoulder. The impact sent me spinning and I fell to my knees but I caught a glimpse of skin in the moonlight. Across its surface was the black ink of a tattoo—the distinctive
kanji
tattoo of the brotherhood of ninja.

The side of his hand came down on the back of my neck and I fought against the dizziness, heaving myself to my hands and knees just in time to see the brown-clad figure racing away. He plunged into the compound. Our enemy had escaped. Somewhere, in there, he was hidden.

Hana raced to my side. I could see a trickle of blood, black as tar in the darkness, on her right leg. She helped me to my feet.

“He kicked me,” she explained. “But I'm fine.” As she helped me across the courtyard, we heard the unmistakable sound of marching feet. The Shogun's samurai soldiers! We could not be caught out of our rooms.

“Come on, Hana! Quickly!” I said, gripping my side as I heaved myself back to our apartment's side door. We tumbled through the door, lungs scorching from our exertions. I caught my breath and opened the main door of our room, to make sure no one had
noticed our absence. A slither of moonlight flooded ahead of me, lighting up the profile of a woman. It was Akane, pushing open the door to Moriyasu's room.

“What's going on?” I asked, as she froze in the moonlight. She looked back at me in surprise.

She straightened up and pulled her robes tighter around her body. She shook her head, smiling, and closed the door again. “I thought I heard noises,” she explained.

It made my heart leap. Had the ninja come back here, to Moriyasu's room? I did not dare ask more; did not want to reveal that I had been away.

Hana came up behind me. “What is it? What's wrong?” she asked. I looked around.

“Go back to bed,” Akane whispered. “It must have been nothing.” Then she glided across the floor and was gone.

I turned back to Hana. What if it wasn't nothing? What if Uncle was sending ninja even into the house of the Shogun to assassinate our brother? The two of us looked at each other, frightened. Too much had happened tonight. I walked past Hana and lay down on my bed. As she stood in the doorway, watching me, Hana looked suddenly very tired.

“Go to bed,” I said. “We'll talk tomorrow. But…” My sister looked at me questioningly. “From now on,
I will sleep with my weapon beside me.” I reached into one of my bags in the corner of the room and retrieved the knife that I had stolen from the kitchen. I held it up, and its scratched blade caught the moonlight. Hana gasped, and I put it under my pillow, ready to be used.

T
he next day was close and muggy. I had barely slept; the image of our faceless enemy in the compound twisted through my troubled thoughts. Who could it be? I would be extra vigilant—inspect every face and keep an eye out for unusual behavior. This man would give himself away sooner or later—and when he did I would be ready.

That morning, we had been invited by Akane to stroll the grounds of the compound with her.

As we stepped outside, Akane bent her head in greeting. Behind her was the Administrator and an entourage of other noble women. We walked from the courtyard to the pond garden and then over to where vegetables and herbs were grown. Akane was knowledgeable and pointed out some of the more unusual herbs. I felt a stab of longing for my friend Daisuke—I preferred his lessons.

The compound was alive with activity. Horses
stood outside of their stables, being groomed, while the kitchen staff kneeled in the dirt, digging vegetables for that day's meals. I could see Emiko among them, and as she wiped the back of her hand across her brow, she grinned at me. It was the most communication we could dare to share in a public place like this. Samurai soldiers circuited the compound.

As we walked, I watched. I drew close to passers-by and tried to see the skin of their throats, servants and samurai alike. Where was that tattoo I had seen so distinctly last night? People paused in their activities to greet the Administrator and his wife, and as we patiently waited for the pleasantries to end, I would narrow my eyes and wait for a giveaway turn of the head.

“What are you doing?” Hana asked, drawing up beside me.

“Looking for that tattoo,” I whispered. I had told her about it last night, as we lay in bed. I heard Hana tut.

“Leave it, Kimi,” she said. “We risked our lives last night—for nothing. We should forget the whole thing. An audience with the Shogun will serve us much better.”

Now it was my turn to feel frustrated. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Can't you see? We've
been here for days and achieved barely anything. After last night, we can't just leave it. That enemy is
here
—laughing in our faces. He could be after Moriyasu.”

Hana shook her head. As I watched her walk away from me, I realized my sister and I wanted totally different things.

I looked around me. A samurai strode past and I stood on my tiptoes, craning to see past his high, iron-paneled collar. He stared back at me and I quickly turned away. Nothing. I bit my lip as I tried to think.
How can I find out who the tattoo belongs to? Who knows everything and everyone in this compound?
Emiko! That was it! I could ask her to help me in my search.

A clap of thunder rang out and women cried out in shock.
Fools!
I thought as people scurried indoors, scared of a bit of rain. I would have stayed, but Hana grabbed my hand and pulled me after her. We plunged into a walkway and followed the court people back to our rooms. As we turned a corner, we stumbled into an armored soldier who was standing guard in the walkway. He turned fiercely—it was Tatsuya.

Hana and I allowed the rest of the court to pull ahead; we could catch up with them later.

“Forgive us,” Hana hurriedly apologized. “We were escaping the thunderstorm.” Tatsuya's eyes softened
and I glimpsed a moment of affection for my sister. She saw it, too, and took a hesitant step closer. We had not had a chance to speak to Tatsuya since our meeting in the pond garden.

“I am so proud of you,” Hana whispered.

Tatsuya's face flooded with pleasure.

“Yes,” I said. “You look so handsome in your samurai uniform—like a real warrior. Did your time with the ninjas teach you any special tricks?” Tatsuya's smile melted away at the sound of my voice.

“Please, Tatsuya,” Hana wheedled. She could see that his mood had turned black. “We're your friends, remember.” He stepped backward, creating a space between us.

“Noble girls should not speak to samurai so…casually,” he said, his voice cold and formal. “Please, do not compromise me this way.” His glance flickered over toward me and I saw his lip curl. “Besides…I do not wish to associate with girls who leave the court for kitchen life. Such lack of decorum.”

I felt as though I had been slapped in the face. Tatsuya, of all people, should understand. He had earned our friendship by risking his life for us, and now his actions told us that we meant nothing to him anymore.

Hana turned away to hide her face. I could see her shoulders shake and I knew that tears would be
streaking her cheeks.

“How could you?” I asked Tatsuya.

A moment's guilt showed in his face, and as he looked at Hana, I could see his resolve flounder. He took a step toward her, but an order rang out from a hidden part of the samurai's quarters and he turned on his heel, marching away. He did not look back.

Hana wheeled around. Her face was red and distorted. In her anger, her kimono sleeves had slipped back and I could see her tender scars.

“This is your fault!” she cried. “All of it!” A woman scurried past and stared at us, scandalized at the raised voices. Hana no longer cared. “If you hadn't offended Tatsuya, he would still be our friend.” Her voice broke. “Now we are friendless and you seem intent on ruining our chances at court. For all of our sakes, Kimi, leave things be. Allow us a
chance
!” She pushed past me toward our room, but a voice called out from behind us. We both turned around to see Mother running toward us.

“Girls,” she said. “I've been looking for you. It's happened.” I gazed from Mother to Hana and back again. Hana rubbed her knuckles across her face to dry the tears.

Moriyasu pushed past Mother's skirts to stand before me in the walkway. “Mother did it!” he said.
“She's gotten us an audience with the Shogun!”

I looked at Mother, stunned. “How?” I asked.

“It's all due to Lady Akane,” said Mother. “She was called to see the Shogun. When she came back she said she'd asked for an audience on our behalf—and he said yes!” She turned back down the walkway, toward the main hall. “Come
on
, Kimi!” she said over her shoulder, her face flushed.

As I followed my family toward the hall, I could think only one thing.
Why now? Why all of a sudden?
Things were moving quickly. Too quickly. Akane had told us that it might take weeks to have our audience with the Shogun—and suddenly she had managed to set wheels in motion in a day? And I couldn't help remembering what Mother said: that if we failed, we could be banished. We would have to be very careful in this meeting.

As a second clap of thunder sounded, we were ushered into the Shogun's meeting room. The aggressive beat of heavy rain struck the roof above our heads. The Shogun's private rooms were away from the main hall. He kneeled on a scarlet rug, shoulders erect and hair oiled back. Behind him was a painted wall panel, depicting the flight of herons. On either side of him stood rows of samurai soldiers. I spotted Tatsuya, his face like ice.

To the Shogun's side sat his mother. She watched
as we kneeled and bowed low in front of the Shogun. When I straightened up, she was no longer looking at us. Her gaze rose above our heads, steady and impervious. She was like a statue, hewed from marble.

The Shogun indicated with a hand. “My mother attends all my meetings,” he explained. “I am almost as wise as she is, but not quite.” I saw a flicker of amusement pass over his face and knew I was allowed to smile—but the older woman's face remained impassive.

The Shogun nodded to a servant, who scurried over and kneeled before him. The Shogun spoke quietly to him, then the man turned to face us. “The Shogun wishes to hear your case,” he announced.

My mother straightened her back even more and spoke. She told the Shogun about Uncle's attack on our family, about the murder of our father. She spared no details. It must have been a trial for my mother, to relive that day, but her voice never faltered and her hands were steady as she drew pictures with her words. There was still tension between Hana and me, but we stood together in support of Mother's plea.

“Lord Steward Yamamoto no Hidehira will never be satisfied,” she said, drawing to a conclusion. “His thirst for power is unquenchable.” She paused to let her meaning sink in. “Unless…” She looked at the
Shogun, the light of hope flooding her face. “Unless you will bring your forces against him. If you do, thousands of lives will be saved. If you don't, I dare not think…”

My pulse quickened. This speech of Mother's was a risky strategy. She was in danger of calling the Shogun a murderer—telling him he would be responsible for the loss of innocent lives if he did nothing. Mother and the Shogun gazed at each other for long moments. Then I noticed the older woman nod her head. The Shogun turned his face, noticing, too. Finally he addressed us directly.

“Your husband was a great man,” he said. He looked over at Moriyasu, who kneeled patiently next to Hana. “And your son has impressed everyone during his stay here. I am sure he will be a great man, too.” Moriyasu's face split in a wide smile, and I felt relief that he did not want to banish us. Then the Shogun's face turned serious. “But I do not think fighting is the solution. I could persuade Hidehira to divide the estates—it will appeal to his ego and still allow Moriyasu to have what is his by right.”

More words!
I thought.
Why is no one willing to take action?

Mother shook her head. “I am so sorry. But I know my brother-in-law will never agree to that. He has already stolen so much territory and his appetite is
not sated. He wants everything. Won't you reconsider?”

Before the Shogun could reply, a door was flung open. Samurai soldiers jumped to their feet and raised their swords, ready to defend.

But when a cowering messenger appeared, the Shogun called out, “Stand down!”

The soldiers, including Tatsuya, sheathed their swords again. The messenger walked swiftly across the room, glancing nervously at the men in their paneled armor. He kneeled and held out a scroll to the Shogun, who took the paper, reading quickly. Then he glanced over at his mother.

“A small envoy of Zen monks,” he said. “They want an audience immediately.”

The Shogun's mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Their visits are rare,” she said. Her voice sounded resonantly, like well-oiled mahogany. “It must be important.”

“Bring them in,” the Shogun said. He waved a hand at Mother and she climbed to her feet, indicating to the rest of us that we should get out of the way. We scurried to the side of the room as five monks marched in. I was frustrated; our visit had been cut short and we had not reached the outcome I was counting on.

Rainwater poured down the monks. I could see
their
kote
armored sleeves beneath their robes and each carried a vicious-looking
naginata
staff with a curved blade. From their waists hung
katanas
, worn with the blade facing down. Some also carried
tanto
daggers.

Bringing such weaponry in front of the Shogun was almost unheard of. I felt the hairs stiffen on the back of my neck. The Shogun remained calm, and respect shone in his eyes.

A monk stepped forward. I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from crying out with joy. It was Daisuke! He looked different in his armor—not like the gentle monk whose hands had tended to my sister and me. His face shone as he kneeled before the Shogun.

“Master Satoshi has asked me to bring you this message: The Lord Steward Yamamoto no Hidehira has encroached on the land of our monastery,” Daisuke said. “He is slowly surrounding us. Soon, he will attack. We ask your help.”

The Shogun looked taken aback.

“We will not surrender, but the army he has sent outnumber us four to one,” Daisuke went on. My heart sank. That was what Uncle had been up to in those quiet days: gathering men and targeting more land for capture. “Please send us some samurai and give your blessing for us to attack him first.”

The Shogun hesitated and I could stand by no longer.

The words Daisuke had spoken to me just before I left the monastery echoed in my mind. I would have to use words as my weapons here. “He won't stop there,” I blurted out. “He will take the monastery and will build his armies until he has enough strength to take on anyone. I think he aims for the highest prize—the title of Shogun.”

Mother gasped at my boldness, as tension grew in the room.

The Shogun got to his feet—in anger at my temerity? My nails dug into the palms of my hands. I could hear Hana's breathing beside me, fast and shallow. Mother had put an arm around Moriyasu's shoulders. How would the Shogun respond?

The Shogun glanced once at his mother. She had not moved. Then he stepped down from the raised platform and approached Daisuke.

“With my blessing, you inhabit your monastery and lands,” the Shogun said quietly. “It is a shame that Hidehira seems to feel free to…encroach on our neighborliness. He is pushing himself into places where he is not welcome.”

It seemed the Shogun was taking my strong words seriously. The monks shifted on their knees and murmured among themselves. Beyond them, I could see a
square of light through an open window. The clouds were clearing and the heavy rain was melting away.

The Shogun turned to face the main doors of the room.

“Bring the Administrator here. Immediately!”