The Samurai's Lady (14 page)

“Being your slave what should I do but tend/ upon the hours and times of your desire/ I have no precious time at all to spend/ nor services to do till you require.” He deposited a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiled up at him and he set another on her lips.
“Nor dare I chide the world.” He continued with a smile. “Without end hour/whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you/ nor think the bitterness of absence sore/ when you have bid your servant once adieu/ nor dare I question with my jealous thought/ where you may be or your affairs suppose.” He kissed her temple.
“But like a sad slave stay and think of naught/ save where you are how happy you make those/ So true a fool is love (I‟ll love you still)/ though you do anything (I‟ll thinkno ill)”
She knew the sonnetand knew he‟d changed the personal reference from Will Shakespeare to the reader to fit their own situation. When she raised her eyes to his he was smiling fondly, the love he held for her evident in his soft brown eyes. “Who taught thee how to make me love thee more? The more I hear and see just cause for hate/ although I love what others do abhor/ with others thou shoudst not abhormy state.” Fujito quoted the verse from memory as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles then held her hand to his cheek. Looking into her eyes, he quoted the last two lines.
“If thy unworthiness raised love in me/ more worthy I to be beloved by thee.” Katharine wanted to cry. Now that she was ready to confess her heart, she was torn between wanting to go home and staying here with this man whom she knew would protect her to the end of his life, a man for whom she could no longer deny her true feelings. She knew the leave-taking would be painful, for both of them. The tears that filmed over her eyes obscured her vision.
“Easy.” He drew her into his arms. “Does Shakespeare always make you cry?” He asked smiling.
She shook her head, smiling through her tears. “Isamu I—”
No, she told herself. Come what may she had to tell him. Whatever else happened, at least for the rest of her time in Japan she loved him.
“I love you.” She said softly.
“Oh
koibito
!” He sighed into her hair. “You don‟t know how long I‟ve waited to hear you say that. Aishiteru.” He captured her mouth with his. His heart thrilled at the response of her lips. He deepened the kiss in response as she put her arms around his neck. His eyes closed against everything but the feel of her against him, her lips on his.
Lightening flashed, he felt her muscles tense.
“Easy.” He whispered against her cheek before reclaiming her mouth. The thunder above the Sea was overshadowed by the heartbeat that seemed to be in her very breath. Her eyes were closed against the raging storm over the Sea but inside her heart, a tempest of desire burned her very soul.
She felt his lips lessen their hold on hers. Her eyes fluttered open as he eased himself away.
Before she could speak, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Oh the things you could make me do
koibito
.” He smiled. His voice was a husky whisper.
“Tell me what you were like when you were a child?” He asked. Encircling her shoulder with his arm, he drew her close.
“Oh, you don‟t want to hear those boring stories, do you?” She looked up at him. “
Koibito
I love you.” He smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her up-turned nose. “Nothing about you could ever be boring. Have you always lived in London?”
“Yes. I was born in a tiny room of a small house in Lambeth, that‟s an area of London built around the palace.”
“Palace? Is that like a castle?”
“Yes.”
“What was the palace called?”
“Lambeth.”
“I had to ask.” Fujito laughed.
“My mother was a Lady-in Waiting and my father was the King‟s groom.” “Is that where you got the love of horses?” He asked tenderly, remembering the way she had named the stallion.
“Yes. They used to let me ride all the time. Except this one huge stallion. We called him thunder. He was at least three hands higher than Toyo. The King rode him intournaments.”
“And was your mother a horsewoman?”
“Mother? No, I should say not. In fact, she made father promise never to make her get on a horse. Otherwise, she would never have married him. She had forty fits everytime I went out o the stables. And lit fifty candles for my safety.” “It sounds like she was very protective of you.” Fujito commented with a smile. “She was. If father hadn‟t been an independent spirit I may never have left the house.” Katharine laughed. “She wouldn‟t let me play games with the other children,unless they were sit down games where I couldn‟t get hurt. She wouldn‟t let me try verymany things for the same reason.”
“You said you were the youngest in your family. Was that he reason?” “I‟m not sure. But she lost a baby between Tom and me. So I suppose she didn‟t want anything to happen to me when I finally made it intothe world.” “Oh what an introduction to life I gave you.” Fujito chuckled. “Leaving you in the hands of a madman; dragging you over mountains, sometimes almost literally.” “Yes, samurai what penalty will I exact from you?” Her features were serious but there was laughter in her eyes.
“Name your price, my Lady, I will bargain with a kiss.” He said with a smile. His voice was thick with emotion.
He explored the outline of her mouth with his tongue before settling his lips on hers. Closing his eyes, he supported her neck with one hand as the other encircled her waist. With a gentle pressure against her, he lowered her to the tatami. Leaving her mouth, he trailed a blazing line along her cheek, down the front of her neck and, lifting her hair and the collar of her kimono out of the way, in the hollow between her neck and shoulder.
She felt his lips retracing their steps back to her mouth. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, her senses reeling as her heart‟s true emotions exploded in her mind. She moaned deep in her throat, giving herself up to the passion that seemed to engulf her.
He did not wish to stop; but he knew he must. It took a lot to pull away from her but he did so, slowly. She sat up beside him and shyly took his hand. “Aishiteru.” He murmured, raising it to his lips. Smiling he looked deep into her eyes. “Let us bribe the moon god/aloof in his high heaven/to make this night/ as long asfive hundred nights.” He whispered.
“Hai shimasu.” She whispered back, settling herself against him. He put his arm around her and drew her close, placing a feather-like kiss on her temple. He had achieved the first part of his heart‟s task: she had admitted her love for him. Now all he had to do was persuade her to stay.
The Samurai‟s Lady

Chapter Fourteen
Fujito woke early. Katharine was still in a sound sleep beside him; she had fallen asleep before the storm petered out late into the night. Leaning on one elbow, he watched her for a while then went in search of tea.
When he returned with two cups on a tray he set them beside her and gently shook her awake.
“Ohaiyo gozaimasu, Nikko Sama.” He said with a tender smile.
“Ohaiyo gozaimasu.” She smiled up at him. “The storm stopped.” She observed. “Yes.” He laughed. “In the middle of the night, my Lady. While you were sleeping. He helped her to sit and handed her a cup.
“Arigato o gozaimasu.”
“Do itashimshite.” He took his own cup and sipped, smiling at her over the rim. “What would you like to do today?” He asked.
“Explore.” She said without hesitation.
“What, the shore?” He asked. “Or me?” He added with a wicked grin. She blushed, as he knew she would. He chuckled deep in his throat.
“You‟re terrible!” She scolded lightly.
His only response was to laugh.
“Let‟s walk to the beach.”
“All right.” He agreed. “Would you like breakfast first?”
“Yes.”
After they‟d eaten they left the ryokan and walked the short distance to the shore. Pale blue sky showed through breaks in the clouds, which were lighter gray toward the edges and tinged with the yellow of the rising sun.
The water was dotted with islands, growing lighter in color as the suns lengthening rays illuminated them.
“It‟s beautiful!” Exclaimed Katharine.
“As are you.” Fujito whispered into her hair.
She lifted her face to look at him; he kissed her temple.
“Tell me again that you love me?”
“I love you.”
“ And I love you.” He kissed her again. “Let me guess.” He said watching her looking out to sea. “You want to stay here.”
“Yes.”
Something told him it wasn‟t only because she was tired of running. “It is nice here, isn‟t it?” He agreed. “Much better than that mountain ledge you wanted to stay ononce.” He teased.
“I didn‟t really want to stay there I only meant—”
“I know.” He whispered against her cheek. It was a mere fraction to her lips. Unafraid now she pressed herself against him, giving her heart to the kiss, and to him.
“Sensei, can you come?” The words, far away, brought them back to the present. Setting her away from him, he turned to see Haruko.
“Sumimasen. Tsutaro is ill, he has a fever. Will you come?”
“Of course.”
They followed her back to the house and while Fujito tended to the man Haruko and Katharine waited in the garden.
Although she was worried about her husband, she was curious to know the reason for the new look she saw in Katharine‟s eyes.
“You told him didn‟t you? That you love him?”
“Yes.” Katharine answered with a shy smile. “Is it that noticeable?” “Oh yes! Your appearance is completely different, softer, less tense. I fear you must stay here, in the Japans. Or you will never forgive yourself and have to live with thepain of a broken heart for the rest of your life.” She smiled. Katharine knew it was true. She smiled at the other woman. But how was she to tell Isamu when he hadn‟t mentioned her staying. He seemed determined to send her back.
In Tsutaro‟s room, the two men were talking. Fujito had determined there was nothing seriously wrong with Hataro‟s cousin and had given him something to take for the ailment. The conversation turned to Katharine. As Tsutaro was asking after her, Hataro entered. He inquired after Tsutaro and Fujito then he too asked about Katharine.
“I think she told you something last night that you‟ve wanted to hear for a long time.” Hataro said with a smile. Tsutaro knew what he meant. Haruko told him of her conversationwith Katharine after they‟d left.
“She did.” Fujito confirmed.
“You‟re going to make her stay, aren‟t you?” Tsutaro asked, as if there was no doubt that he would.
Fujito smiled slowly. “I told her once that I didn‟t own her. I can‟t make her do something she doesn‟t want to do. If she has chosen to leave on the next ship back toEngland, I won‟t be able to stop her. I‟ll have to content myself with holding a piece ofher heart and the memory of her in my heart forever.” Even as he said the words, he knew it would be impossible. Any more than it would be possible to hold his breath for an hour.
She was as much a part of him as his own skin. The heady scent of her, the feel of her in his arms, no, he would never forget. But the thought of living without her was almost unbearable and growing more so every time he thought about her leaving.
By mid afternoon the sky had cleared. The pools of water on the roads and paths, under the eaves of buildings and around trees made the air close and humid. Katharine and Fujito stayed inside, thankful for the breeze that was blowing in from the garden.
After the evening meal, Fujito picked up his flute and set it to his lips. Katharine smiled.
He knew what to play.
The lullaby and the heat combined to lull her into a doze.

The Spanish Queen docked at Dover. From the deck, she could see crowds of people waving and cheering as the tug helped the ship to dock. Everyone was there, her parents, sisters, her brother Tom. And then she saw—but it couldn‟t be. Isamu!
She ran to him. Dodging people, brushing past them, almost knocking them down to get to him. But when she reached the man, it was not her samurai but Henry Dobbs, the one her parents had picked for her. The laughing crowd disappeared. Henry lunged for her, a lecherous grin exposing a mouth of blackened and missing teeth. She felt a grubby hand on her shoulder.
Just as he was about to ravage her with his mouth she heard a voice, tender and of low timber behind her.
“Katharine, stay with me.” He whispered.
“Isamu.” She tuned to follow him but he was gone.
“Isamu!” She cried out. Breaking free of Dobb‟s grasp she ran in search of him.
She pursued her invisible samurai through the streets and alleys, tears streaming down her cheeks, obscuring her vision. Ignoring the stares of the women in their house doorways, holding fearful children to their skirts; ignoringthe calls of “daft” and “madwoman” from the tavern keepers and shopkeepers she ran calling his name.
“Isamu, where are you? Come back please come back! I love you. Take me back with you. Isamu, where are you?”

The force of her sobs in the dream brought her to consciousness. From far away she heard his voice calling her back from sleep.
“I‟m here,
koibito
. It‟s all right. Your safe, I‟m here.”
The dream was so real she was afraid the voice was still a part of it. “Wake up, Nikko. I‟m here, you‟re safe.”
She rolled over and opened her eyes. Isamu was leaning over her, smiling. He wiped the tears from her eyes and moved a lock of hair off her forehead. “Easy.” He soothed. Taking her hand he helped her sit up and took her into his arms.
She gasped the last sob.
“Are you all right?”
“I am now.” She smiled. “Let‟s go for a walk. It‟s stifling in here.” “All right.” Fujito smiled.
They walked back to the beach. The sun was inching closer to the islands in the Sea.
They found a large rock to sit on to watch the last rays of the sun‟s glory. “Would you like to tell me about your dream?” He asked.
“It was horrible. I dreamed I was at home. I saw you, you called me but when I turned to follow, you were gone. I ran all over the town looking for you.” Her eyes misted over with the dream‟s memory.
“It‟s all right now.” Fujito smiled. “You‟ve brought it to the front of your mind. Things can only bother you if you don‟t acknowledge them.” He had learned that fromexperience. “Shall I tell you a story?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there‟s a legend about this place. About a mirror.”
She snuggled closer. He chuckled and encircled her shoulder with his arm, drawing her even closer. Placing a kiss on her forehead, he began the story. “Once there was a young girl who was very beautiful, like you.‟ He smiled. “When she was seven her father was summoned to Kyoto, which was the old capital.”
“The Shogun has the Emperor there now, doesn‟t he?”
“That‟s right.” Fujito smiled. “Kyoto is the winter capital. When the Shogun decided to take all power for himself he took the Emperor captive before he could makeit to Edo.”
“Go on with your story.”
“There would be no roads for riding and it would take the father many weeks to get there. His wife and daughter, whose name was Sachiko, meaning happy child, almost changed his mind and he almost stayed home. This was the first time he‟d beenaway from them.”
“I know how he felt.” She whispered.
Fujito chuckled. He stroked her cheek with the side of his thumb and kissed her temple. He knew how the man felt too, as he would feel when she was gone. He smiled, and continued with the tale.
“While he was gone Sachiko helped her mother run the house and tend the garden. Every week she told herthat it wouldn‟t be long now before her father returned.
“When it was time for Father to return they hustled and bustled around getting everything ready. Since blue was her husband‟s favorite color she chose a blue kimono to wear on the day of his return.”
“What is your favorite color, Isamu?”
He thought for a moment then smiled. “Yellow. Because it reminds me of the sunlight your presence brings me, my Nikko.” He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers.
They were trapped in eternity. The world around them seemed to stop its course while he held her. Easing away from her, he looked into her eyes. “I‟ll never finish thestory at this rate.” He whispered with a chuckle.
“Sorry.” She smiled.
“When he got home the father gave them each gifts. To Sachiko he gave a doll and a box made of laquerware filled with tiny cakes. He told her it was for taking care of things while he was away.
“To his wife he gave a square wooden box tied with red and white string. Inside it was a mirror. She had never seen one before and couldn‟t figure out how her husband could have gotten a picture of her that was so clear and lifelike. “He laughed and told her it was a reflection of her own face in the polished metal. His wife couldn‟t look into it often enough, even though she considered it too precious for everyday use. Her husband had told her the proverb that as the sword is the soul of the samurai so the mirror is the soul of a woman. And she must use it carefully. If she kept it clear and bright her heart and character would be pure and good.”
“Do you believe that?”
“In a sense I think I do.” He smiled down at her.
“What happened next?”
“Well, the woman kept it with her most prized possessions. Sachiko was now sixteen. She had grown up to be the very image of her mother in beauty, kindness, and affection.
“Mindful of her reaction when she‟d seen her reflection in the mirror, her mother kept it hidden from her daughter so she wouldn‟t become vain. Sachiko didn‟t know ofthe mirror‟s existence and grew up innocent of her own beauty. “Then one day her mother became terribly ill. Knowing she had only days to live, mother passed the mirror on to Shachiko and made her promise to look into it every night and every morning. There she would see her mother and know that she was watching over her. With tears, Sachiko promised to do this faithfully. “After a while her father remarried. But Sachiko could never like her new stepmother. There were rumors all over Matsuyama that she had used witchcraft to trickSachiko‟s father into marrying her. Sachiko feared she would charm her father‟s love away from her. With each passing day, she consulted her mother‟s image longer and longer.
“Her stepmother set out to see who she was talking to for so long every day. She thought she was plotting against her. Aftera week‟s time she could stand not knowing any longer. So, she went to a secret cave in the woods. There she kept her secret spellsand charms. She turned herself into a sharp toothed rat.” “Yuck.”
“It does sound rather terrible doesn‟t it?” Fujito agreed with a chuckle. “Well, she made her way quietly to the ventilation panel that Sachiko kept open between her room and the one next door in summer. The rat climbed up the paper panels to reach it.
“Sachiko was sitting with her back to the panel. The rat slowly crept down to hear what the girl was saying; she couldn‟t see the mirror.
“She was telling her mother‟s image in the mirror that she was afraid her father didn‟t love her any more and asked it what she should do.
“The face in the mirror told her to hold it so that she could see the floor behind her.
“When she did she saw the rat and screamed. Her father ran in and sliced the rat in two with his sword. He cast he rat‟s body into the sea and no one ever saw the woman again, nor was her name ever mentioned.”
“What happened to Sachiko?”
“A long time afterward she married and had a daughter of her own. She gave the mirror to her and she lived happily ever after.”
The sun had almost set behind the distant islands giving the edges of the wispy clouds a hint of gray-moave and pale yellow. Somewhere in the distance behind them a koto played, the sound carried to them on the still air.
“That was a beautiful story, Isamu!” She sighed. “You‟re a wonderful story teller; you could do it for a living, like we saw in Toyama and Matsumoto.” “No, I couldn‟t.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because I‟m too busy trekking all over the country trying to get you back to Kyushu.” He chuckled.
“You‟re terrible.” She raised her hand and struck him lightly on the shoulder. He captured her fingers. Then his mouth claimed hers.
Pulling away from her, he outlined her lips with his tongue, tasting the salty sweetness of her mouth. She relaxed her lips slightly, deepening the kiss. Her hands seemed to have minds of there own as they slipped under the folds of his kimono and explored the heated skin of his chest and back.
His lips left a blazing trail down her neck and along her throat.
“Oh
koibito
, how I love you.” He moaned huskily against her cheek before reclaiming her mouth in searing passion.
It was a long time before he let her go; this time there was no one there to disturb the moment.
“Am I so terrible?” He whispered huskily when he finally eased away. She merely nodded. Somewhere in the midst of her whirling thoughts she made the decision: she would not be going home.
Fujito stood and, chuckling raised her to her feet. Hand in hand, they walked back to the ryokan. Lantern lights from nearby residences dotted the shore and the far bank of the Sea.
“Is that Cathay?” Katharine asked.
“No.” Fujito smiled. “That‟s the tip of Honshu.”
“The big island with the Alps.” She echoed the words she had spoken years ago. “That‟s right.” He smiled remembering.
“Isamu?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, but if I stop to kiss you again we may never get home.” He laughed. He kissed her temple instead.
The next day brought the arrival of Tadanori from the small port just down the beach. He had repaired his boat and was making his way back to Shimoda. “I just came to see if you were still here and wish you a safe journey the rest of the way.” He told Fujito
“Domo.”
“Something‟s happened, I can tell.”
Fujito knew what he was referring to.
“She told me she loves me.” He admitted. “Now comes the hard part, convincing her to stay here.”
“I‟m sure you will.” Tadanori told him. “Oh by the way, I‟ve found someone who will ferry you to Beppu.” He handed him a piece of paper with the man‟s name and where he could be found.
“Domo. When do you leave?”
“First tide tomorrow.”
“The Lord be with you.”
“You as well. I‟ll be praying for you.”
Fujito bowed in thanks.
Katharine knew it would be hard to leave this beautiful island and its memories behind when Fujito told her they would be leaving for Kyushu the end of the week. “Shikoku will always hold a special place in my heart.” She told him. “And why is that?”
“Because it‟s where I fell in love with the handsomest samurai in the Japans.” She smiled.
“Oh, my Nikko.” He chuckled.
Goto-San the owner of the ferry that would take them to Kyushu was a congenial fellow, about ten years older than Fujito.
“All aboard for Beppu!” He called as if he were the pilot of an ocean going vessel.
Fujito and Katharine sat in the back of the small craft while Goto-San maneuvered the oars.
The trip was punctuated with song; the man had a fair voice. When Katharine and Fujito joined in, he did not object in the least.
Beppu was even more humid than Matsuyama had been. Katharine wiped her brow with the sleeve of her kimono.
“We‟ll find some shade and rest awhile before we look for a place to stay.” Fujito told her. They found a spot under a tree near a hot spring.
“That water is ten times hotter than your first bath.” He told her.
Katharine shivered. “Please, don‟t remind me.”
“You aren‟t embarrassed now, are you, Lady Katharine?” He whispered close to her ear. When she looked at him, he was smiling.
“Excuse me, but aren‟t you—? Yes!” The man‟s voice came from behind and to Fujito‟s left. He turned.
“Uncle, don‟t you recognize me?”
“Jiro!” He stood in one fluid movement. He bowed in greeting.
“Don‟t tell me you‟ve finally become formal after all these years?” “No, indeed.” Fujito answered laughing. Turning to Katharine, he said, “This is my nephew, Jiro. Jiro, this is Katsuko.”
Jiro bowed formally, Katharine returned it.
“Come.” He said. “We must celebrate our reunion.”
He took them to a small but neat house near the roadway. “This is our home when we are here in Beppu.” He explained. “It‟s much smaller than the castle and more intimate.” He showed them into the reception hall and called the servant to bring sake.
“I have heard of the lady.” He told his uncle. “That is exactly the kind of thing I would expect you to do.” He smiled. “Is the wine watered down enough for you, myLady?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.”
“You could have turned me in.” Fujito reminded him.
“No. I wouldn‟t do that to someone who was so kind to me as a boy.” They heard a noise in the courtyard. A young woman entered carrying packages from the market.
“Mariko, come and see who‟s here.” Jiro called to his wife.
“Uncle Isamu!” She ran to him.
Fujito standing embraced her.
“This must be Katsuko?”
“Yes.” Fujito smiled at the woman kneeling beside him.
“Dozo yoroshiku.” Mariko said, bowing.
Mariko was an easy-going girl not much younger than her husband . Katharine liked her on sight. She saw that she was also fun loving, like herself. After getting reacquainted with his nephew and niece, he and Katharine were shown to their rooms.
“So I suppose you‟ll want to stay here with Jiro now.” Fujito teased. “Why is that?”
“Because he remembered to water down your drink and I forgot.” He grinned. “I‟d have to see how he kisses first.” She teased him back.
“I think you‟d have to fight Mariko for that.” He said. “And me.” He added huskily. Grabbing her arm as she passed him, he pulled her against him. “Do you think he could beat that?” He asked after the kiss.
“Not likely.” She smiled. Turning she left the room. She heard Fujito chuckle as he started to put some of their things away.
After Mariko and Katharine had retired Jiro and his uncle talked about Fujito‟s next step.
“I‟m taking her back to Hirado.” He told the young man.
“Even though she loves you? And you so obviously love her.”
“I can‟t force her to stay, Jiro. I promised her when I sent her to Kimika I would take her back so that she could go home.” He sipped some sake from the cup Jiro hadpoured. “She practically made me sign a blood oath.” He smiled remembering. “I‟ve seen the way she looks at you, Uncle. I don‟t believe she feels that way any more.”
He hoped his nephew was right. He remembered he had told himself he would talk to her about it when they reached here. Now he must decide how to broach the subject.
“You can travel to Hirado with Mariko and me if you wish.” Jiro‟s words brought him back to the present. “We leave in a week.‟
“All right. Domo.”
Fujito spent the next week trying to find a way to tell Katharine he did not want her to leave; while she spent the same week trying different ways to tell him she wished to remain in Japan. Neither one could think of a way, so things remained as they were.
They boarded the ferryboat after sending Mariko in the palanquin back to Jiro‟s castle in Kumamoto. It was a quick trip, with no storms to buffet the craft as on their crossing to Shikoku.
Once the boat tied up on shore Katharine ran ahead. She must speak to the Factor before Fujito could stop her.
“Why did you have me come to Hirado, Sama?” The boatman asked. “The English have left.”
“You mean the ship has gone and won‟t return for another year?” Fujito asked. “No Sama. They have packed up and left for good.”
Without waiting to hear more, Fujito ran to catch up with Katharine. But he was too late. He found her at the edge of the site of the English settlement. He stopped and