Sisters of the Sword (13 page)

“We want to find Mother and Moriyasu,” I said, and told him about the message we had found at the old shrine in the forest. “We think they may have gone to the town. It would be easy for them to hide there.”

Master Goku considered this for a moment. “It is easy to hide two people,” he said. “But not four. For your own safety, as well as that of your mother and brother, I would urge you to stay here under my protection for as long as possible. And maybe one day you will be able to set things right.”

The lantern flickered again and Hana reached out and took my hand.

“But I am not talking about murder, Kimi,” Master Goku went on, fixing me with a stern look. “There is no room in the
bushi
code for murder. To attack Lord Hidehira from behind, with a hidden blade, would be dishonorable and cowardly. Such an act would make you as treacherous as he is.”

“But my uncle deserves to die for what he did!” I protested.

“Perhaps he does,” Master Goku said mildly. “But you will not murder him with a knife in the back at a
cha no yoriai
. And you will not attack his son with feet and fists.”

I felt the shame of what I had wanted to do and vowed that I would never allow myself to walk the path of treachery and dishonor.

“No,” the Master went on, “if you wish to restore your family's honor, you must challenge Lord Hidehira openly. You must fight him fairly.”

I took a deep breath. “You're right, Sensei. I will face my uncle in open combat, and win. If he defeats me, so be it.”

“Harness your talents, concentrate your mind, focus on training.” Master Goku turned to Hana. “Although it is not yours, the name Silent Fist was truly inspired. Your opponent rarely knows when or where your fist will come from, Hana. You must perfect that skill.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

“And you, Shadowless Feet,” he said, turning to me. “Your heels ache to kick out, so I think I will set you a target. Tomorrow, when you have finished your chores and Mister Choji releases you, go to the small courtyard beyond the rock garden. In the center,
there is a dead but firmly rooted willow tree.”

“I've seen it,” I said, wondering why he was bringing it up.

“I would like to see you knock down that tree with a single kick,” he said. “Your uncle is one of the mightiest warriors in Japan. When he was a student here, long ago, the only man to defeat him in practice sessions was your father…. Understand that Hidehira will not be defeated easily. But you are your father's daughter, Kimi. With experience and training, you could be a great fighter. Kick down the willow tree, and you will move closer to your goal of matching Hidehira in combat.”

I nodded, determined to seek out the tree in the morning, as soon as I had finished my chores.

“You will both train hard,” Master Goku said. “And meanwhile, I will do all I can to help you find your mother and young Moriyasu. I will send letters to various friends in the town, and see what I can discover.”

The Master ushered us out of the meditation room and into the cool night air. Hana and I quietly made our way through the gardens and along the walkways. When we reached the servants' quarters, I paused for a moment on the steps and glanced up at the night sky. Stars were sprinkled across the deep blue, like silver fish sewn across a dark kimono. I felt
as though a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I let Hana go indoors ahead of me, saying I wanted to stay outside for a moment longer.

When I was alone, I took a deep breath and brought my hands together, bowing my head as I offered up a silent prayer of thanks for Master Goku's support.

F
or Hana and me, life seemed a little easier after our meditation session with Master Goku. Our hearts were filled with hope.

the Master never mentioned our true identities again, and nor did he seem to treat us any differently than he had before. But whenever he looked at us, I could feel his silent approval of the mission we had set for ourselves—and I remembered that he had promised to try to find our mother.

Every evening Hana and I met Tatsuya in the rock garden, or down by the lily pond, sparring with
bokken
and
jo
as well as hand-to-hand combat, knife techniques, and wrestling. Often he brought a straw target and some bows, and Hana and I loosed arrows until long after the other students had gone to bed.

Once, as I was practicing my
bokken kata
, Hana was practicing her Silent Fist techniques. Her feet were silent on the grass, her fists seeking the weak
points of an invisible enemy.

A moment later I heard the sound of her running feet. I looked up just as Hana launched herself into the air and scaled the wall like a shadow warrior, using the air as a staircase until she was running along the top. She reached the corner and then flipped herself backward off the wall to land on her feet in the middle of the pathway as lightly as a cat.

I grinned. “Show-off,” I said. But seeing my sister run with such skill made me think about the task Goku had set for me.

I remembered how my father had once said to me, “A good warrior knows his enemy, Kimi. He studies him until he knows exactly how he works, what makes him who he is. Only when you truly know your enemy can you ever hope to defeat him!”

With Father's voice ringing through my mind, I went to the dead willow tree and sat for a long time studying it. The tree was not an enemy, but it was a target and so I observed its shape, how it had grown twisted at certain points, where it might be weak, and where it was strong.

I did not feel that I was ready to try to kick it down yet. So instead I begged a few empty caskets from Choji and half filled them with sand so that I could practice on them. At first, the dull thud of falling caskets drew a few students, curious to see who was
making the noise. But soon they got used to me and drifted away, back to their own training sessions.

As each night surrendered to a new dawn, I could feel myself becoming stronger, my muscles more toned, my punches and kicks more powerful.

But all the while, our cousin Ken-ichi grew more arrogant and unbearable. He demanded that the other students address him as Ken-ichi-
dono
, adding the term of respect for nobles, and insisted that they make way for him when he was walking along walkways and through narrow halls.

“I take precedence,” he would say, “because I am the
Jito
's son!”

I avoided him as much as possible, because I couldn't trust myself not to disobey Master Goku and attack my cousin with fists and feet!

One day, Choji assigned Hana and me to a new duty instead of cleaning rooms.

“It's a fine spring day!” he declared. “The sun is shining and there's a light breeze. I thought you'd enjoy being outside….” For a moment I thought Choji was going to give us a day off, but then he continued, “It's a perfect day for doing laundry…come with me!”

He took us up a winding gravel pathway that led behind the bathhouse and showed us the well for drawing water, the deep wooden barrels where linen
was scrubbed with bran bags, and the long, thin drying ropes strung from tree to tree.

“Be finished by midday,” Choji said. “And then come to the kitchens to help prepare lunch.”

When he had gone, I made a face at Hana. “Bran bags? What about soapwort?”

“I think it's too expensive,” she said, rolling up her sleeves and reaching for a bucket. “And bran bags probably work just as well. At least we can have some fun with this. Beating the dirt out of the breeches and bedsheets will strengthen our arms and make us better fighters!”

We worked hard for the rest of the morning, scrubbing and rinsing and hanging the laundry from the trees. It was a struggle to get things right at first, but we quickly realized that kimonos and
hakama
trousers needed to be stretched when they were hung out, so that they would be smooth when the sun had dried them.

Working together, we finished with time to spare, and I challenged Hana to a duel, wielding my long-handled washing paddle as if it was a
jo
. She grinned and grabbed the pair of wooden tongs she'd been using to transfer wet clothes from one tub to another, to use as a
bokken
. We danced back and forth among puddles that sparkled in the spring sunshine, leaped up onto a low wall, and then ducked down beneath
the kimonos and table linens.

We stopped abruptly when we heard the sound of three pairs of feet crunching up the gravel pathway toward us.

“Come on…follow me!” someone said. We couldn't see the speaker because of the laundry strung from the trees, but the drawling arrogant voice had become as familiar to me as my own.

Ken-ichi.

And it sounded as if he had his two friends with him as usual.

I exchanged a glance with Hana. Quietly we laid down our weapons and retreated behind an extra barrier of hanging laundry. After a moment there came the sound of liquid being poured and the clink of bowls. Someone made a slurping sound and almost immediately began coughing.

“By the Buddha, that's disgusting!” The boy's voice sounded half choked. “How do you know it's sake rice wine, Ken-ichi-
dono
? For all we know, it could be poison.”

“Of course it's not poison, you idiot,” Ken-ichi said with a snort. “I
can
tell the difference between poison and sake, you know!”

Hana and I exchanged a glance. Ken-ichi and his friends were drinking alcohol!

“How do you tell the difference?” one of the boys
asked. “I thought that was the whole point with poisons. They're easily hidden, and easily mistaken for something else. What if this is…poisoned sake?”

I heard Ken-ichi slurp from the bowl. “It isn't,” he said stoutly. “I got it from the kitchens. They're hardly going to give the Master something that's poisoned, are they?” He gave a snort. “Although…if I
was
going to poison someone, slipping it into a drink like sake would be so easy!”

“You're so clever, Ken-ichi-
dono
,” the other boy said in a fawning voice. “You know everything.”

“I make it my business to know everything,” Kenichi said. There was a pause, and then he added, “And right now I know that we're being spied upon!”

Before Hana and I could find another place to hide, he was striding through the hanging laundry, tearing it down from the thin ropes until he was standing face to face with us, three white sheets and a kimono twisted around his arm.

I shoved Hana behind me, snatched up my wooden paddle, and held it in front of me defensively.

Ken-ichi took one look at me and snorted with laughter. “What are you going to do?” he asked. “Lather me with rice bran and paddle me to death?”

“How did you know we were here?” I countered.

“I heard you crashing around before we even got here,” he sneered. “You were pathetic! I've seen girls fight better than you two!”

I flushed and forced myself to stare at the ground. It was clear that he was just trying to insult us, but it made my heart jump to think that he might be close to uncovering our secret. Behind him, his two friends sniggered.

Pleased with himself, Ken-ichi went on, “I wonder what that old fool Choji would say if he knew two of his slaves were messing about up here instead of working. Eh?”

I clenched my fist so tightly around the wooden paddle that my knuckles turned white. “We're not slaves.”

Ken-ichi looked us up and down. “You look like slaves to me,” he said, and glanced at his friends. “What do you think? Do they look like slaves to you?”

“Definitely slaves,” one of the boys said with relish. “I think you'd better inspect their work, Kenichi-
dono
.”

Ken-ichi grinned. “What a good idea,” he said, and deliberately dropped the armful of clean laundry he'd been holding. Still grinning, he placed his sandaled foot squarely in the middle of the pile and ground the fabric into a muddy puddle. “Oh
dear,” he said slowly, his dark eyes spiteful. “I think you
slaves
will have to clean these again!”

Turning on his heel, Ken-ichi walked away. His two friends went scurrying after him, sniggering and nudging each other.

At that moment, I felt like I couldn't contain myself any longer. My fists clenched around my wooden paddle and I thought about smashing it down on his head—but then I stopped. I remembered my vow to myself. I would not dogfight with Ken-ichi. My time for revenge would come.

I felt Hana's hand on my arm. “Leave him,” Hana said. She was watching him too, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “There is a time and place to see justice done.”

“I know,” I said. “But he
wants
me to challenge him.”

“If that's the case, then you will punish him more by not giving him what he wants,” Hana reasoned.

Hana was right. I watched Ken-ichi strut down the pathway and finally disappear around the corner of the bathhouse.

I knew that if I was patient, the opportunity would come to deal with him calmly and effectively. Once and forever.

“Y
ou're late,” grumbled Choji when we finally appeared in the kitchens to help prepare lunch. “What were you doing up there—washing everything twice over?”

As a punishment, he made us skip our afternoon weapons training and told us to scrub the kitchen floor with hot water and sand. “When I return, I don't want to see a single spot of grease anywhere!”

He turned on his heel and left the kitchen. Hana and I glanced at each other in surprise.

“What's wrong with Choji?” I asked Ko, who was busy kneading noodle dough at the table.

Ko made a face. “He's been like that ever since he came back from the village without any supplies,” he said. “One of the other servants said that there's little food available to buy. The village is almost deserted. The
Jito
has samurai soldiers posted on every street corner. They take a percentage of any food that comes in for the
Jito
and what
is left over is not enough…. People are beginning to go hungry.”

We served a small lunch to the students, and all the servants sat in thoughtful silence to eat their own thin fish soup. Choji wasn't present. Ko said the head servant had gone to talk to Master Goku. He was hoping the Master would appeal to Lord Hidehira for more food.

Hana and I worked hard, and by the time we made our way to the meditation room that evening, we were almost dead on our feet. Our arms ached from wringing laundry and our hands were raw from spending most of the day being plunged into buckets of hot water. Our bellies growled with hunger.

As soon as meditation began, I closed my eyes and felt myself drifting away….

After the session, the relaxed atmosphere remained. Students talked quietly as they left the meditation room in small groups. Hana and I went around with the other servants, sweeping up the ash beneath incense sticks and putting out lanterns.

Suddenly Hana dug her sharp elbow into my ribs. A messenger was standing in the doorway, his clothes dusty from the road. He bowed low and approached Master Goku.

“Greetings, Sensei,” he said breathlessly. “I bring
word from your friend Master Jin of Sagami to the south.”

Master Goku signaled to one of the other servants to bring
cha
. “What does my good friend Master Jin say?”

The man bowed again. “He apologizes, but he cannot continue his correspondence with you. Alliances between neighboring estates are being dissolved upon the word of your
Jito
. Lord Hidehira has announced his intention to seize the surrounding territories for himself. Therefore Master Jin says that he regrets to tell you that from this day onward, you and he must be considered enemies.”

Master Goku closed his eyes briefly, and for a moment he looked like an old man. “The alliances are being dissolved.” His voice sounded heavy and tired. “And it is as I feared….”

I knew Father had worked hard to build alliances throughout the kingdom, to bring peace to neighboring estates and form relationships with other provinces. But Uncle was destroying everything.

When the servant returned with
cha
, Master Goku dismissed us all and drew the messenger into a quiet corner, obviously to question him further.

Outside in the hallway, Ken-ichi was strutting like a peacock. “Soon the whole kingdom of Japan will be in my father's grasp,” he bragged. “Before long he'll be
Jito
of all the estates between here and the
southern islands. He'll be Shogun!”

Behind me, Ko and another servant boy, Sato, were whispering.

“Lord Hidehira has raised taxes on all farmers,” Sato said. “My father is headman of our village and he says the new taxes will cripple them!”

“I heard that the local people have a new name for the
Jito
,” Ko said with a nod. “They are calling him Kaminari.”

Kaminari…Thunder. It seemed an appropriate name for Uncle. He was unleashing a storm upon our lands.

Up ahead, Ken-ichi suddenly wheeled around, his dark eyes flashing. “Who said that?” he demanded.

Ko turned pale. “It was me, Ken-ichi-
dono
,” he stuttered.

Ken-ichi strode back along the hallway until he was standing in front of Ko. He towered over the younger boy, who began to tremble. “You filthy peasant,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “How dare you insult my noble father!”

“I—I meant no insult, Ken-ichi-
dono
,” Ko said.

“Whether you meant it or not, you still insulted him,” Ken-ichi said. “My father is the
Jito
—and he's your lord and master. You owe him your loyalty.”

Ko bowed low, his face ashen. “He has it, Ken-ichi-
dono
.”

“You called him Kaminari,” Ken-ichi insisted. “And
you must be punished for that!”

Ko began to tremble as Ken-ichi glared around at the other servants. “Someone fetch this peasant a sword so he can defend himself,” he cried, his hand on the hilt of his own
nihonto
.

They were going to fight!

“This isn't a matter to be decided by the sword,” I said, quickly stepping in front of Ko to protect him. “Ko didn't give your father the name Kaminari. He was only repeating what he heard.”

Ken-ichi flushed angrily. “Who asked for your opinion, rice boy?” he snarled. “Now, get out of my way.”

“No,” I said firmly.

Our gazes locked and held.

There was a soft metallic whisper as Ken-ichi drew his blade, and in a heartbeat the tip was pressed against my throat. I could feel the chill steel pricking my skin.

I caught my breath, not daring to move.

A silence fell around us. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Master Goku. He came forward and placed his hand firmly on Ken-ichi's
nihonto
blade, pushing it away from my throat.

“Sheath your sword, Ken-ichi,” he said to my cousin, his voice hard and cold.

A muscle flickered in Ken-ichi's cheek, but he
didn't move. His unflinching gaze stayed locked on mine, his eyes full of hate.

Master Goku's face hardened. “You will not draw your blade against a member of my household.” Goku's eyes flashed, and he raise his voice. “If there is a dispute, you will bring it to me!”

The silence around us deepened. Then slowly Ken-ichi lowered his blade and rammed it back into its sheath.

Master Goku's hard gaze swept the assembled students. “There are five days left before the great tournament that marks the end of
kenshu
training,” he said. “If there is one more incident like this, any student involved will be forbidden to enter the competition.”

With everything that had happened since our arrival at the dojo, I had almost forgotten about the tournament. I held my breath as the silence stretched thinly around us all. A few boys looked at the floor as if they were ashamed. Without a word, Ken-ichi turned on his heel and stalked away.

Master Goku turned to Ko and Sato. “Repeating gossip is an activity more suited to washerwomen by a stream,” he said. “I expect better from servants at my dojo. Go and find something more worthy to occupy your time.”

The two boys scurried away, Ko shooting me a
grateful glance over his shoulder. The other servants and students soon followed, and Hana and I were left alone with Master Goku.

“Stay out of trouble,” the Master said, his voice gentle. Then he dismissed us.

As Hana and I walked away, I couldn't help thinking about how bad things had become. Uncle was starving the country and Ken-ichi's ego was raging out of control.

Master Goku was keeping him in check—just. But I wondered how long things could go on like this.

 

Later that night, we met up with Tatsuya for our usual practice session. He had heard from one of the other students about my encounter with Kenichi.

“Ken-ichi's a menace,” Tatsuya said, gathering up rocks in preparation for his tea-pouring practice.

“Ko told me that Ken-ichi's already been boasting that he'll be champion of the tournament,” Hana said. “He says there's no one here who's good enough to beat him.”

“I might compete,” I said thoughtfully. “I stand as good a chance of winning as anyone else. Ken-ichi would have to stop boasting then!”
And,
I thought,
as champion of the tournament, I would be in a good
position to challenge Uncle.

As Tatsuya and Hana began their tea-pouring practice, I perched on a nearby rock, lost in thought. Whoever became champion would be celebrated, and that honor could be used as the grounds to face Lord Hidehira openly. Uncle would not be able to refuse the challenge.

But could I win the tournament and become champion? Could I eliminate all the competition and be chosen as the best student in the school? During my time at the dojo I had put in hours of sweat and dedication. I excelled in many forms of fighting. Choji had told me recently that I was one of his best students with the
naginata
spear. Thanks to many moon phases of hard practice with the kitchen knives, I had become skillful enough to fight anyone in hand-to-hand combat with a
tanto
dagger. And my ability with a
nihonto
had improved dramatically since my swordfight with Ken-ichi at the dojo gates.

Above all, I was beginning to learn that it was not strength that mastered a blade—but precision. I knew that, with or without a weapon, I could find a weakness in every opponent.

I could do it, I told myself firmly. I could win the tournament. And once I was crowned champion, I would have proved that I could fight anybody and win. Thus would I be a worthy challenger to Uncle,
and I would have my chance at revenge! My heart beat faster as I saw the way forward in my mind's eye, like a walkway lit by a shaft of bright moonlight. In five days' time I could face my uncle and avenge my father and brothers.

Above us the night sky deepened to midnight black and a faint breeze brought me the scent of blossoms. I sat quietly on my rock, as Tatsuya and Hana finished their tea pouring.

“That was much better this time,” Hana told him.

“Thank you,” Tatsuya said with a small bow. “Your teaching has helped, and I think I have improved. But…” He gave an anxious sigh. “I'm still nervous about serving tea to Goku. It's one thing doing it right during practice, but entirely different in front of the whole school and all the masters. What if my nerves get the better of me again, and I'm clumsy?”

“You won't be clumsy,” Hana said firmly as she replaced the rocks around the shadow-filled garden. She took Tatsuya's hand. “You will believe in yourself, and you will remember everything you've learned here in this garden.”

“I hope so,” Tatsuya said quietly.

They bowed to each other in preparation for their usual sparring session. Hana was using a garden rake to defend herself from Tatsuya's
jo
.

“Higher,” Tatsuya told her. “Bring your elbow up,
like this.” He demonstrated. “And use your left foot more.”

Hana stepped forward with her left foot, swung her rake, and then ducked to avoid Tatsuya's
jo
.

“Here,” he said with a grin. “Swap weapons with me. I'll use the rake to show you a better hand grip….”

They sparred on, swinging and cutting, weapons slicing the air. They leaped and pirouetted, using walls and rocks and even the air as stepping-stones, looking more as though they were dancing than fighting.

Tatsuya swung the garden rake again. Hana ducked once more, too late this time, and gave a little shriek as the tip of the rake swept across the top of her head. It caught in her topknot, and all at once her long hair came loose and tumbled down over her shoulders.

Horrified, she scrambled to twist it back up.

But there was too much of it! Long hair rippling in a waterfall of black silk…

I leaped to my feet. I had to do something before Tatsuya realized!

Tatsuya dropped the rake and stared at Hana, openmouthed.

“You're a girl!” he gasped.