The Seabird of Sanematsu (27 page)

“I am sure our master would not deny you time to yourself. Besides, the doctors must attend to him in private, Lady Tori.”

Aderyn’s palms lay on the quilt over Sanematsu’s chest as the three doctors waited for her to exit. They had not asked her to leave before. What were they going to do to him?

Uesugi touched her sleeve. “Tori, please. You will do him no good, as exhausted as you are.”

Genuine concern shone in the young man’s eyes. She was tired and hungry, but to have such selfish needs when Sanematsu lay at death’s door was disloyal, was it not?

“He will understand.” Uesugi guessed her thoughts. “Come.”

As if to urge her on, the doctors moved closer.

“You may be right. They are of more used to him at this point, I suppose.” She stood, her legs wobbling; Uesugi held her upright until she was steady on her feet. Once ready to walk, she moved to Sanematsu’s traveling case and placed his comb in her hitatare sleeve.

“I will remain at his side in your stead.”

“Thank you, Tadakuni-sama.” She touched his arm with affection. “Call me--”

“At his slightest move,” Uesugi replied without allowing her to finish.

As Aderyn left the tent, the bright sun blinded her, and she was forced to stop to allow her eyes to adjust. The camp remained busy; all Sanematsu’s retainers went about their business, seeming unaffected by their lord’s condition. Guards stood at their posts. Samurai honed their weapons and their martial skills. Grooms curried horses and mended tack. Servants carried out various missions.

Aderyn crossed to her tent. She removed her soiled clothes, unbound her hair and untangled it with Sanematsu’s comb. Sachi had packed her toiletries, but the comb was a talisman. The scent of his hair and the wintergreen hair dressing oil clinging to the wooden implement comforted her.

She braided the mass into two simple plaits. After sponging her body with herb-scented water, she slipped on a plain osode. Hamasaki brought her a bowl of noodles and broth and a piece of fruit. She downed the food and hurried to return to Sanematsu’s side.

As she made her way, she knew the soldiers watched, even though she could not catch anyone looking. When Lord Matsumoto emerged from Sanematsu’s tent, Aderyn’s heartbeat doubled. As he approached her, her breathing became labored.

“Good afternoon, Lord Matsumoto,” she greeted him with all politeness, fighting not to rush past. If she insulted him in public, he would be compelled to punish her.

“Good day, barbarian,” Matsumoto sneered. “I see you have found time to refresh yourself. But, then, Lord Sanematsu is under your spell, and you will cause greater harm at will.”

“I can assure you I wish Lord Sanematsu no harm.”

“I am sure. He had best be warned regarding your care.” His tone was suggestive, his expression leering.

“From what I have seen, I care more for him than some who are extremely close to him.” Aderyn held him with her stare. Glaring into his yellowish-brown eyes, she refused to allow him to see any sign of fear in hers.

Neither moved for what seemed an eternity. When Matsumoto broke the stare, his departure left her free to enter the tent.

The day continued and waned, with Sanematsu semiconscious hours after sunset. He tossed and turned, moving to his left side only to be forced by the severe pain to return to his back. As his fever raged, Aderyn sponged his face and arms in an attempt to cool him. The three physicians hovered, conferred and came to a decision. The elder doctor confronted her, standing steadfast, his hands hidden inside his wide sleeves.

“You must leave,” he decreed. “We must wash him in cool water.”

“I can help.” She began to remove Sanematsu’s covers. “I left you with him once. I…cannot do it again.”

The bald doctor grabbed her wrist.

“We cannot allow you to be with our lord as we attend him in this manner,” he ordered, holding her tightly.

“What?” Aderyn was puzzled. What did they mean? She could sit by and talk with Sanematsu while he bathed, but she could not minister to him while he was injured because they were going to undress him? “Do not worry about me. Tend only to Lord Sanematsu!”

“Our lord has ordered Tori here.” Uesugi stepped into the debate. “She will remain until he orders her away.”

Sanematsu himself brought the confrontation to an abrupt halt. In his fever-enveloped brain, he struck out at those around him. Aderyn took hold of his left arm to prevent him from injuring himself further, but he threw her away. Regaining her place, she lay on his chest, careful to avoid his wound as the doctors fought to still his flailing extremities.

The strength with which Sanematsu battled them was amazing. The cords in his neck stood out, and his pulse there pounded. Beneath her hands, his power, the smooth skin taut over hard, sleek pectoral muscles was evident. His right arm bulged and strained in resistance to the grasp of one of the doctors. Power vibrated in the fibers of each muscle, toned by years of conditioning, each one primed and ready to expend that strength.

Uesugi stepped in. One of the doctors moved away to prepare a drug to put Sanematsu into a deeper sleep. The team forced the fluid into his mouth, and over a period of minutes he settled.

Weak and worn, Aderyn spent her last energies on Sanematsu’s delirious struggle. The overnight ride to camp combined with her vigil drained her, and she crumpled into an exhausted slumber, so close to Sanematsu’s right side her head rested on his shoulder.

**
*

The remaining physician reached to rouse the sleeping girl.

“Leave her.” Uesugi ordered from behind him.

“She cannot be allowed to remain where she is,” the doctor protested in hushed tones.

“I do not think our master would object.” Uesugi allowed himself a half-smile.

“I must protect him from evil gossip.” The healer reached for her once more.

“I said leave her!” Uesugi stepped nearer to the futon. “There will be no gossip unless you start it.”

“You take your position too seriously, little samurai.”

“I speak for Lord Sanematsu.” Uesugi withdrew his sword several inches. “This katana, too, will enforce his wishes. Shall I proceed?”

The doctor eyed the sword. Uesugi left him no room to doubt he would use his weapon if required.

“As you say, warrior. The responsibility lies with you.” The physician left the tent.

Uesugi secured the sword while looking at the sleeping figures. They looked like pictures in the manga scrolls he had seen of lovers spent after hours of pillowing. He gave Tori a soft smile as he spread a covering over her. He then extinguished the candles to allow darkness to conceal them. Without a sound, he left the tent to stand guard at the entrance.

**
*

When the bright Kyushu sun defeated the lazy morning haze, sunlight filled the canvas dwelling sheltering Sanematsu and his yabanjin. As she lay on her side facing the opening, warmth covered Aderyn’s cheek. The hand stroking her hair from behind, though, was what actually woke her. For a moment, she could not remember where she was. Sanematsu’s armor, sitting upright in the corner with the look of the man himself, reminded her.

She rolled onto her back and turned her face his way.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Sanematsu continued to play with her hair, his fingers entwined in the strands that had worked free of the plait. “And I believe it is afternoon.”

His eyes were bright, but it could have been caused by the fever. A faint, pain-induced shadow lay beneath them, a different sort of shadow covered his jaws and upper lip. She put a finger on his lip to stroke the faint mustache.

“I will have my attendant see to that at once.” His smile, though weak, indicated he enjoyed the touch. “Is this your doing, also?” The movement of shaking his loose hair caused pain to cloud his eyes.

“Yes.” Aderyn moved her hand to his cheek. “Now, be still, sire.” She came up on her knees and reached for a bowl of water.

Without warning, the air filled with riotous noise.

“What is that?” He sipped from the bowl, with her aid.

“I have no idea.” She lowered his head to a zabuton in place of the wooden pillow, working the cushion down beneath his shoulders. With his head elevated, even if only the slightest bit, she hoped he would rest better. It would, at least, keep him from choking. “I will see.”

She stood, straightened her clothes and flounced her braids back over her shoulders. When she stepped through the tent flap samurai blocked her way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

What is going on?” Aderyn pushed through the crowd. “You disturb our lord.”

“See?” Matsumoto gestured toward her as he addressed a group of high-ranking samurai. “She has been with him all this time and has probably slain him in his sleep.”

“I
what?
” What was Matsumoto up to?

“Let us pass,” Matsumoto demanded of Uesugi, who blocked his entry. This was clearly not the first time he had made this request.

“I cannot.” Uesugi and the other samurai who stood with him tightened their line. The younger warriors had come to help their friend stand guard over their respected lord. Hamasaki was also present, but Aderyn was his charge.

“You will let me inside, upstart!”

Matsumoto stepped toward the youth while starting to draw his sword. Uesugi pushed his own weapon out of its scabbard with his thumb, the blade freed by the length of the digit, a slight tremor to the young swordsman’s hand. Hamasaki watched, his own hand resting on his sword hilt, ready to draw but making no overt move to do so. Should her safety come to be in jeopardy, he would add his sword to Uesugi’s.

“I do not wish to cross swords with you, Matsumoto-uji, but I will, in order to uphold my great lord’s wish.” Uesugi’s voice wavered, yet his words were strong.

“It is his wish for his karou to be barred from him?”

Swords remained in their scabbards, but hands were at the ready for use as the heated words flew.

“He has told you of these desires? Are you sure she did not voice the wishes?” Matsumoto waved his thick, short finger in her face.

“Lord Sanematsu made his wishes known before the battle. What need does he have of your wisdom unless he is conscious to request it?” Uesugi countered.

Aderyn quailed. Uesugi, in his earnest innocence, condemned her. If he said too much in defense of her, he would fuel the fires of rumor.

“Uesugi-sama, your actions are admirable,” she interjected. “You have dutifully protected our lord through his most vulnerable time. However, Lord Sanematsu is awake and would like to have Lord Matsumoto present.”

The general marched through the youthful guards as if a major battle had been won. He whipped the tent flap open and disappeared into the shelter. Aderyn remained with Uesugi and Hamasaki as the others dispersed.

“Tadakuni-sama!” Aderyn took him by the arm, as a scolding mother might. “How could you? Did you not stop to think? You may well have assigned the hour of my death!”

“I had no wish to harm you, Lady Tori.” Uesugi blanched and looked down at the ground like a small boy caught doing mischief. “I only wished to allow Lord Sanematsu time with you. He is brutally injured.”

“And he remains very weak.” She released his sleeve and gave a wistful look toward the closed tent flap. “I do not know why Matsumoto thinks I wish to kill him.”

“Because that is what he would do if he had the chance you have had, Tori.” Hamasaki stepped up. “I have not spoken to you of this, as it is not been your concern. Now, you must understand things are not as they appear within the yashiki of Sanematsu. I protect you not only from your enemies, but his as well. You must be on guard, when you are with him, to see that no one causes him harm. As a woman in his house, it is your responsibility.”

Aderyn stared, dumbfounded. Hamasaki had spoken fewer than fifty words to her in all these months as her shadow, and now he had chosen to burden her with this knowledge. Hamasaki Heishiro had recognized her as a person and friend, but she did not like what he said.

“But why should anyone want to kill me? I only want the best for Satsuma Province.”

“They fear you because you are not of the Land of the Gods,” Uesugi answered.

Hamasaki turned back into his usual stone.

“Do they not understand what he means to me? You both do.”

“I am afraid if they did they would fear you more,” Hamasaki replied.

She did not respond. Did he think her love for Sanematsu wrong?

Aderyn glared at the tent flap. “I wish I knew what lies Matsumoto is feeding him.”

“There is no way to know until he calls for you. Come, I shall escort you to your tent to wait.”

Hamasaki took a step in that direction. She made no move, and her gaze was unwavering.

“Tori,” Uesugi said, “Lord Sanematsu is very wise. He will see through to the truth in all matters. Most important, he understands what he means to you.”

“I pray so,” she muttered, and began her trek to her lonely tent.

**
*

Matsumoto entered and did not speak until he had bowed and knelt at the foot of the futon. Then he said, “I hope your injury is not troubling you overmuch.”

“Do not concern yourself with my condition.” Sanematsu relaxed on the zabuton Tori had so thoughtfully placed beneath him. It made breathing easier, and he was much more comfortable; but his strength lagged. He longed to slip back into oblivion and hide from the pressure of government. “I am sure your only interest is how long I will continue to breathe. I shall easily outlive you.”

“Do you think I wish you ill, great lord?”

Sanematsu sensed Matsumoto was beginning to form a plan. His karou’s devious mind, which sought continually to undermine him, could read the truth of his condition on his face. It would take little to finish the job started on the battlefield.

“You may not wish me ill, merely dead, so you might better control those who serve me.” Despite his body’s weakness, he could still, for short intervals, fill his voice with strength and power. “I have more important matters to concern me than your quest for my power. What has taken place since I fell from my horse? Dai-tan is unharmed, I trust?”

He needed Matsumoto’s expertise, his eyes and ears--he had been out of touch for too many hours. Could he trust him to be truthful?

“Your warhorse awaits the next battle. I have accepted Amemiya-sama’s surrender and plan to deal with him this afternoon.”

“Humph. I will see to Amemiya-uji myself.” Sanematsu rose from his bedding, using his elbows to support his body. Pain tore through his side, and he sucked air between his clenched teeth. He eased back onto the soft, straw-filled mat that made his bed and feather cushions that were his pillow.

“There is another matter which, with great regret, I must call to your attention.” Matsumoto’s words had a strange ring to them.

“Speak.” Sanematsu closed his eyes to listen.

“Do you think it wise to have
her
here?”

“I want Tori here.” Sanematsu gave him a look that dared him to speak ill of his seabird. “That makes it wise. You would do well to stay away from her.”

“A woman has no place in a war camp.”

Matsumoto swallowed hard. Sanematsu could see his stare made the other man very uncomfortable.

“This is no longer a war camp. You have taken Amemiya-sama’s surrender,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and now the kind of women who do follow warriors will descend upon your men.” Matsumoto’s words dripped with malice. “Then again, maybe you are correct in calling her to camp. I suppose you should have the same rewards.”

“Tori is no camp-following whore!” Sanematsu shouted as best he could. His heart raced deep within his chest. He braced the rip in his side with his hand as the pain doubled.

“Of course not, sire. But no one knows this save you and I.”

“I cannot control what others think. Tori stays. Hamasaki-sama will see to her behavior.” Sanematsu closed his eyes and sighed. “Have my doctors attend me. Then go see to the preparations for Amemiya-sama’s seppuku. I wish to see no one else.”

The karou bowed and left.

Sanematsu could not allow Tori to see his weakness. With her lack of guile, she would give away the mortality of his condition and cause his army to lose confidence. He needed time and strength, neither of which he had. He must attend this afternoon’s ritual to show himself to his samurai to maintain their loyalty and support. A large number were already allied with Matsumoto.

He wearied of people questioning him about Tori. How could they understand his love for her? Solid barriers were in place against their being together as husband and wife, though not in the manner of man and woman. He would never get the chance to be with her in any manner, if he read the omens correctly. With every breath, his life ebbed from him, drained further with every drop of blood seeping into the dressing on his side. In his desperation to hang on, his hand bunched into a fist around a wad of his bedding.

The doctors arrived, and after their examination, they told him his side was satisfactory, at best. Sanematsu’s senses told him otherwise. He was dying. Only one man could save him.

“I will attend Amemiya-sama’s surrender. No one is to know how badly I am injured. Make whatever preparations are necessary.”

“My lord.” Kono spoke humbly as one did to one’s liege lord. “I fear if you insist upon rising you will do yourself further damage.”

“I do not care!”

“You will bleed to death, sire!” the bald physician joined in.

“Then I will die, as is my birthright!” Sanematsu did not add aloud
I will die as a man
.

When they accepted he could not be dissuaded from his determination to present a strong front to his retainers, the healers prepared him as best they could. He sat upright, careful to dislodge his wound as little as possible. The muscle and skin that had started to heal reopened, as well as previously untorn tissue. The pain cut through him as it had when he had slid from Dai-tan’s back into the supportive arms of Hikita.

With great effort, he kept his breathing regular even though he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. So well ingrained was his training not to respond to pain that no sound escaped his lips. He swallowed the moan caught in his throat as he fought off unconsciousness.

No matter his agony, he had to remain alert. If he gave in, he would never wake. Death would overtake him with ease. At one point in his life, he would have welcomed death and the freedom it provided, but not now. Not now he had something to live for, to look forward to.

Separation from Tori and relief from the burden of his council for the last ten days had made his destiny clearer, and with that understanding came a need to act, a need to heal and make the greater, more difficult choices. Dead, he could neither protect her nor share his life with her.

Sanematsu inhaled, focusing his stare at the armor standing across the way from his bed. It was imperative he show his army the strength that armor represented. He closed his eyes and focused on relaxing the tight abdominal muscles pulling at his damaged side. Sweat poured off his face, running in rivulets into his eyes. One of the physicians mopped his brow.

“I am ready,” he announced, opening his eyes once more.

Kono removed Sanematsu’s sleeping garment. The dressing came away caked with clots and flesh. He cleaned the wound before packing fine cotton wadding into the hole. To finish, he began to bind Sanematsu’s abdomen and chest with a wide piece of white silk. The youngest physician gave their master support as Kono pulled on the binding after each revolution to brace the laceration.

“That will have to do, my lord.” He tied the cloth in place.

“It will be fine.” Sanematsu could not to take deep breaths because of the pressure and pain. He blotted out the burning of the raw nerve endings, refused to feel the seep of warm blood. “I will take all responsibility, Kono-uji. If I die, it is in the hands of the gods, not yours. Have Yaemon-dono come and help me dress.”

**
*

Matsumoto Katsura strode across the bivouac toward Aderyn’s tent with a confident bearing. Everything was working out the way he planned. Well, not the way he planned, but to the culmination he wanted. There were even some fortunate turns he had not expected. He smiled with self-satisfaction as he thought about his imminent success.

When he had entered into the secret alliance with Amemiya, he had made promises he knew he would never keep. Sanematsu’s unexpected victory had removed that obstacle, as well as the barrier of Sanematsu himself. The daimyo would be dead within days--Matsumoto had seen enough dying warriors to recognize the signs.

With the daimyo’s determination to show off for the barbarian, he would use what little strength he had and be unable to fight death. Then the way would be clear. Matsumoto could not resist moving forward with his scheme.