The Seabird of Sanematsu (20 page)

Regretting the loss of his touch, she settled into the saddle. What would her mother say if she saw her riding astride instead of using a decorous sidesaddle? She wiggled to adjust to the body between her thighs as well as to ease the itch she could not interpret.

As Sanematsu swung into his saddle, the samurai entourage began to shuffle and form up. Dai-tan stomped and paced, eager to be off.

“Hikita-uji,” he said to Sachi’s husband, who sat on his own horse, a dapple-gray, in front of him, “you and Hamasaki-uji will accompany us. The rest will remain.”

“Yes, sire.”

Hikita and Hamasaki moved near as the others broke away. The group was ready. Horses, stabled for long hours, strained to run and stretch their legs. Aderyn’s spirits were as high and as avid. She would be away from the horrible memories of Matsumoto, and an adventure, though small, lay ahead.

“My lord!”

At the sound of Matsumoto’s voice, fear clutched her heart. When it resumed beating, its pace increased. He marched across the courtyard toward them, accompanied by his personal foot soldiers. Panic rose as she glanced around for escape.

“You should not leave the castle,” the Evil One advised Sanematsu. “The council meets to decide the matter of Amemiya-sama.”

“There is no need for the council to consider this matter. I have decided.”

Aderyn took advantage of Sanematsu’s distraction to maneuver her horse next to his, hiding behind him. She was so close their legs rubbed, and in her crouched position, her shoulders nearly touched his.

“You will take five hundred men and go to war,” Sanematsu instructed his general.

When Matsumoto stormed away without seeing her, Aderyn’s breath eased. Ecstasy had replaced fear when Sanematsu ordered him to battle--she hoped he did not return. She would not be able to take credit for his demise, but she would revel in it.

“Ko-tori? Are you all right? You are pale,” he observed.

“Oh, yes.” She came back to reality, unaware of being in deep thought until Sanematsu’s voice touched her. Had he noticed enough of her reaction to piece the facts together?

She could not allow him to discover her secret. Pulling the reins up, she at up straighter.

“Very well.” Sanematsu pulled Dai-tan’s head to face the gate. The stallion picked up on his lead and responded with enthusiasm. The other three horses fell in behind them. “We are ready.”

Lord Sanematsu led the procession of four through the city along the meandering main road. Gravel and stone crunched beneath the horses’ hooves. In the market, venders and their customers ceased haggling to bow to their liege lord. As they righted and saw a barbarian girl clad as a young man trailing behind him, a murmur followed. The peasants of Nishikata had heard rumors of the foreign girl, but few had actually seen her. They were surprised to see her ride open and free with their master and his bodyguards.

**
*

By the time they reached the far edge of Nishikata, Aderyn led the way. Hard-pressed to keep up with Koji, Sanematsu struggled to keep Dai-tan from breaking into a run. Farmers watched his odd behavior while bowing as he passed their fields.

Just past the last large rice field, he directed Aderyn to turn down a wide road.

Springtime had come to the island of Kyushu full of greenery, flowers and renewed life. Lush foliage enveloped them. Farmers worked abundant fields harvesting plentiful vegetables and fruits. The smell of oranges and lemons filled the air, mingling with the ripe stink of human night soil used as fertilizer. The nurturing water of the rice paddies rippled in gentle waves, moving the tender green shoots in the same direction. Women waded through the watery fields removing insects, debris and weeds.

Farther away from the farms, the forest rose thicker, lining the sides of the road. At intervals, a canopy of limbs shaded the narrow path. The riders traveled at a comfortable pace once the horses had spent their pent-up energy.

**
*

Sanematsu was at her side, with the samurai before them. She looked around at the trees, searching for the animals they could hear scurrying away from their approach. Peering through the trees, she watched a deer leaping away; a squirrel, after racing up a tree trunk to achieve a secure branch, turned and chattered its displeasure at being disrupted in its foraging.

In the very tops of the trees, large birds nested and perched on waving limbs. Small birds hopped and fluttered between branches nearer the ground. Their twittering and chirping made a pleasant calliope.

Flowers of bright and subtle colors bloomed in profusion. Purple hibiscus, soft pink azaleas, orange daylilies burst forth amid the deep greens. Until now, Aderyn’s view had been limited to the ocean side of Nishikata, the waves of the sea and sand of the shore. Flowers cultivated by meticulous caretakers filled the gardens. The natural wonder of the forest threatened to overwhelm her. Spurring Koji forward and faster, she wanted to be a part of it, to be awash in the horticultural spectacle as she was the waves of her beloved ocean.

Trees, bushes, foliage of myriad kinds and descriptions pushed up to the road and blurred in a wash of green as she sped past. Scents of soil and blossoms assaulted her nose. The flowers’ colors flashed before her. She had never been this far from Nishikata, and the freedom excited her. She gave Koji her head. Her hair bounced on her back and cool breezes went through her clothes. She laughed loud and long.

**
*

Behind her by several steps, Sanematsu enjoyed watching Tori, surprised at how well she controlled the horse. The return of her happiness pleased him; the sound of her laughter teased his spirit. It was as if he had never ridden this road before, although he had been over it thousands of times. Ko-tori made each thing she did with him new and unique.

She disappeared around a curve in the road and abruptly her laughter stopped. Urging Dai-tan forward, he hurried after. As he rounded the curve, he saw Koji, her back unburdened.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ko-tori!” Sanematsu jerked Dai-tan to a stop and looked in the direction of her voice as she rose from the ground and beat the dust off her clothing, uttering a strange curse in her native language.

“Ko-tori!” He repeated, sliding from his horse’s back. His feet had hardly hit the ground before he ran to her side. He took her arm.

“I am fine, Yoshihide-sama.” She moved out of his grasp with a quick sidestep. “I got carried away, and Koji gave me my comeuppance.”

Sanematsu moved away as she appeared to wish him to do. He did not speak of his concern, disappointed by her aloofness. When he discovered what disturbed her, he could rebuild their closeness. Then, perhaps, she would no longer shun his touch.

“We are near the meadow. Shall we walk?”

Shaken by her evasiveness as well as her spill, he guided her along the road. He was as upset as if one of his daughters had been in jeopardy. The emotion rising in his throat was the same as when the crab had harmed Miyo. His chest ached.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I better walk out the soreness I will probably have later.”

They traveled a short distance down the road to where he moved tree limbs and a bush aside from the end of a footpath. Tori preceded him down the trail. Hikita and Hamasaki, still on horseback, led Dai-tan and Koji and followed.

After a short hike through deep forest, they paused at the mouth of the path. The men entered the meadow and passed her as she took in the view, her mouth agape. No one spoke as he watched her run to the center of the meadow, where she spun like a child who sought to become so dizzy she could not stand. When she broke away, Hamasaki moved to catch her, but he stopped him. Tori had no desire to leave his world. Neither did he wish to break the spell she wove.

When he gestured, Hikita handed him the basket, and he followed her. The guards remained in the shade to tend the horses.

She collapsed and lay on her back, sunk in the tall grass. His shadow fell across her, and she shaded her eyes to look up at him.

“Hello.” She giggled as if drunk. “Come down here.” She patted the grass at her side.

“I am pleased you find my hiding place pleasant.” He could only bring himself to squat next to her. He put down the basket.

“It is marvelous!” She sat up tailor-fashion. “It is so green and spacious. I have been shipbound for years. We would sit on the sea for days with brief shopping trips and such to break the monotony. Then you add the months I have been enclosed in the yashiki, it makes this open space even more beautiful and overwhelming.”

“We would be more comfortable beneath the tree.” He pointed to the ancient cryptomeria standing off-center in the lea. “The afternoon sun will become unbearably hot.”

Tori bounced up and ran in an exuberant zigzag to the shade. Sanematsu followed like an indulgent parent keeping up with an impulsive child. She flopped down again with her legs curled to one side and waited for him to resume his squat.

“I come here to be alone,” he continued. “Only Hikita-sama knows of its existence. Now, Hamasaki-sama.”

“Hamasaki-sama will never tell.” She leaned close to whisper loudly, as if in conspiracy. The sun, the greenery and the space seemed to inebriate her. “The man does not speak.”

“And he says you do not stop.” He smiled.

She sat back again, her cheeks fiery.

“He bothers me. He just stands there!” She sounded exasperated. “He must be so bored.” The exasperation disappeared. “I am hardly interesting, but he is so dull. I have drawn him in about every situation possible except lovemaking.”

She gasped, covering her mouth in Sachi’s gesture.

“What does that mean?” Sanematsu did not understand her phrase. She had translated it into the proper words, but together they did not make much sense in Nihonese.

“I am sorry.” She looked up into the cryptomeria’s boughs. “I do not wish to talk about it. I was not thinking.”

He stood and called to Hikita. Once the man arrived, he handed his katana to his guard. Hikita took the sword and fetched a folding campstool, then returned to the perimeter.

“I think we
should
speak of it,” Sanematsu persisted as he unfolded the stool.

Her face grew redder. “It means, well…uh, what a man does to a woman to have a baby.”

Her words were rushed, as though speeding through them would prevent his hearing them.

“Oh, pillowing.” He nodded his understanding. “It is also for pleasure, is it not?”

“I would not know.” She spoke to the ground as she angrily pulled innocent grass blades out of the soil.

“Have you never pillowed, Tori?” he asked. He reached to prevent her destruction of further clumps of grass.

“Of course not!” she answered hotly and jerked her hand away from him. “I told you I was not married.”

“One does not have to be joined to pillow,” he explained, as if to a child. At an early age, his society taught the pleasures and desires of their bodies were natural and pure. “Nor does one have to be with another to release the tension of one’s body.”

**
*

“I cannot talk about it!” Aderyn jumped up and walked away. She put her back to him, her arms crossed under her breasts, her eyes fixed on the treetops across the field. She had no knowledge of what a man and woman did in the privacy of their bed, so what he meant by “release” was an even greater mystery. Talking about such things with him filled her with a feeling she did not understand, and the sensation increased when he touched her no matter how innocent it might be. She struggled to cover the unnamed emotion she suffered with anger. She understood anger.

“I come here to find harmony.” His voice carried to her. “I regret disturbing your peace. I will have Sachi speak with you and see what can be done to help you feel more comfortable with your womanhood.”

“She and I have talked quite enough on that subject, thank you very much.” Although she spoke to the trees, her words were directed to him. “I am quite content not talking about it.” Her voice dropped. “Especially with you, Yoshihide-sama.” She hoped he did not hear her confession.

“Very well. Shall you show me what you have brought for our meal?”

“If you wish.” She faced him, still unsettled. The look in his dark eyes raised the warmth in her body back to her face.

“My stomach wishes it the most.” An easy smile came to his lips to dispel her anger.

Her spirits brightened as she spread the cloth she had procured from the seamstress and laid out the meal, a unique picnic. Matsumoto’s hateful attack moved to the back of her consciousness, and she could dwell on Sanematsu’s gentleness. She made her mind up to enjoy the day. That was if she could keep Yoshihide from dwelling on intimate activities.

She set the meal out in the exact manner the cook had explained to her, each item in its small dish.

“Ryorishi-sama had a problem with what to pack for you to drink.”

“Tori, I am sure Sachi-sama has explained that ‘sama’ is not added to the peasants’ names. It is used only for those of higher rank.”

He chose to comment on the strangest of things. Did he ever listen to what she was saying?

“Yes. She, too, reminds me every time I do it. But is not every Nihonese higher in rank than me, a barbarian? Even the
eta
?”

“What was Ryorishi’s difficulty?” He ignored her question, declining to talk about Nihon’s lowest social class.

“He could not send tea, as I do not know how to properly prepare it. So he said. Nor could he send sake, as I, again, cannot serve it fittingly. So, he asks you to forgive him for this.” She lifted a ceramic bottle from the basket.

“Plum wine?” He did not sound angry--more like surprised.

“Yes. Ryorishi-sama and I realize it is for women, but we thought you would not mind.” She poured the sweetish wine into small bowls and handed one to him.

“I do not object. When I was a boy and came to my mother’s chambers, I would often empty her bowl faster than the maids could fill it. She, of course, pretended not to see.” Sanematsu picked up his eating sticks and a bowl of food. “I sometimes regret I must keep up appearances with sake.”

Aderyn took her bowl, but she did not eat.

After swallowing, he asked, “What is wrong?”

“You cannot sit like that.” Aderyn pointed her sticks at his stool.

“So sorry, I do not understand.” He further stiffened his posture.

“This is a picnic, not a formal feast. You must relax.”

“I do not think I can sit as you do.” He pointed to the way she sat with her legs askance under her hips.

“Then kneel in our way, but just not on a stool. Any way but so rigidly, as if you were at council.”

In demonstration, she stretched out on her side, propped up on an elbow. After looking quizzical for a moment, Sanematsu handed her his bowl and
hashi
. Then he stood, refolded the stool and sat tailor-fashioned on the cool grass. Aderyn gave him back his food. They ate in silence.

**
*

Accustomed to women satisfying their hunger away from him then picking at a bowl of plain rice in his presence, Sanematsu tried not to react to Tori’s lack of constraint compared to the feminine etiquette required of the women of Nishikata-jyo. Her appetite could put a robust warrior to shame.

They had shared several meals over the past months, and he never ceased to be amazed by the manner in which she ate. Truth be told, he enjoyed her passion for food.

“You have never spoken of your mother, Yoshihide-sama.” She drank the last of her wine. Her cheeks were flushed, and a stray strand of hair fell across her forehead. “Did she die when you were a child?”

“In a sense, yes. When I was fifteen and became daimyo, she retreated to a temple.” He sought his own bowl of wine. “She does not allow me to visit.”

Tori poured another cup of wine as he pushed the loose tendril from her forehead. He did not allow his fingers to linger as long as he wished to.

“Your own parents were not of the same land, were they?” He put the unruly hand around his wine cup.

“They were from different countries, but of the same race.” She shook her head to move her loose hair back. “They were Europeans.”

“And how did their match come about? They were arranged?” He drank to cover his feelings.

“Far from it!” She laughed. “Would you like to hear how they met? It will sound quite familiar.”

“By all means. You have learned much about my family.” He settled back, relaxed from the wine and her company.

“From age thirteen,” Aderyn began, “my father was a seaman. At twenty, he came to the coastal town in Wales where my mother’s family were tenant farmers. Being a Spaniard in the eyes of the English and, so, an enemy, he was beaten and left to die on the shore by some of the locals.”

“I recall your history lesson.” He held his cup for more wine, which she poured while she spoke.

“My mother was fourteen and a bit of a dreamer, they say. She was the last of ten children and liked to wander the beaches when her work was done.”

“Not unlike you.” He lifted a mouthful of rice to his lips while keeping his gaze on his companion.

“Please, do not compare me to my mother.” Her eyes flashed with fury for an instant.

“Very well. Go on.”

“She found my father, injured and unconscious, and brought her father and brothers to help. Now another touch of history. The Welsh, being part of Britain, did not relish the presence of a Spaniard or Portuguese, yet the Brownes--my mother’s people--were not political and nursed him to health. My mother, swayed by his dark hair, olive complexion, rugged body and her own romantic notions, stayed at his bedside, and language lessons helped the days pass.”

“Like you study my culture and language,” he commented.

“I told you it might sound familiar. Now, listen. You wanted to hear this. When Father was well, he helped with the farm work, waiting for a ship to carry him back to Lisbon. My mother grew more intrigued, even though she was warned about becoming bewitched by the handsome stranger. Soon, they planned to leave together. When the day and ship arrived, Mother slipped away with him in the dark of the night.

“This part I have figured out on my own with the help of my sisters--she was six months pregnant when they arrived in Portugal.”