The Samurai's Garden (3 page)

****

The meal, though simple, was delicious. Hiro stood outside the hut and smoked his pipe, surreptitiously watching as Hanako dug into her nutritious meal with relish. He had eaten earlier, consuming much less than his usual hearty portions, highly aware of the very hungry woman waiting for him in the opposite corner of the room. She was practically fainting away from hunger, and he could not bear to make her wait longer for her own meal. He could always go into the village later, he thought. There was bound to be a place where he could get more food and spirits. And perhaps some companionship.

Watching her devour the simple meal — the fish he had caught, the rice she had bartered from her neighbor, and some spring greens from her garden — he was struck again by her inner strength and resolve. She was a survivor, and yet he sensed a fragility he wanted to protect. She was a woman who would love with her whole heart, not just her body.

He would seek his temporary pleasures elsewhere.

****

Hideyori Kato knelt on the threadbare cushion, struggling to ignore the itchiness from the coarse clothing he wore. He would not submit to such base actions as scratching, especially in front of his company. Once his army was assembled and his fortunes regained, he wouldn't have to resort to wearing such inferior clothing. But the treasures he'd found hidden in his robes weren't enough to hire his servants, make improvements to his home, and purchase fine silk. He'd had to cut corners, and the robe he'd found in the market looked regal, even if it was made of rough linen. He needed to project an image in order to be taken seriously.

The two gentlemen kneeling on the cushions in front of him wore expressions of curiosity and skepticism. Like him, they were former
daimyos
. Unlike him, they had relinquished their power voluntarily, so they were allowed to keep their homes and much of their lands. Their way of life had not suffered. But careful inquiries had revealed that these men had regretted their decisions and were interested in regaining their power. He needed to convince them it was possible to overthrow the emperor's army and return to their former feudal way of life.

"It is necessary for us to combine our resources," he told them. "None of us, alone, could hope to overthrow the Imperial Army. But together we could restore this country to the
Bushido
— the Way of the Warrior."

"But we are only three," Togashi-san inserted. "How could we hope to overcome the emperor's resources?"

"There are thousands of displaced samurai roaming the country," Hideyori explained. "With the Meiji government's orders, they no longer have their exalted place in society. We just need to convince them to fight for us, so they can resume their rights."

"But many of them have joined the emperor's forces," Akamatsu-san observed.

"True, but once they see we are guaranteeing them a better life, they will join us. And if we can gather enough
ronin
, they will have no choice but to defect." It was rather like the choice given to the
daimyos
once Meiji declared an end to the feudal system.

He raised a finger, signaling the maid in the corner to refill the sake cups. He could see some of the doubt dispelling on the faces of his guests. If he kept them well-fed and the sake flowing, perhaps by the end of the night he would have some partners in his quest. He would have help financing an army. Of course, some of the army's wages would go into his own pocket. He had to get some better clothing.

****

The bartering economy was a fascinating change for Hiro, who had been raised in a monetary society. He found it satisfying to be able to survive on what could be produced or traded. Here, a man earned respect for his own hard work, not for the size of his inheritance or the destruction he could cause. There was no room for vanity or trying to outdo one's peers. He became comfortable wearing the crude cotton clothing of the locals, and his taste for the simple fare he ate at Hanako's table replaced his previous penchant for the elegantly prepared dishes he had enjoyed in the city.

His esteem for his lovely hostess-teacher also grew. She constantly surprised him with her resourcefulness. Though she lacked the education and training of the women he knew in Tokyo, her eyes shone with intelligence and common sense. He bought books to learn what experts had to say about agriculture, and together they would discuss what he had read. She amazed him with her understanding and practical knowledge.

Hiro was planting a row of radishes when his thoughts turned to her. A vision of the two of them together, older, surrounded by children, flashed in his mind. He quickly shook the vision away. He was not looking for a wife, certainly not here, at the edge of the known world. Hanako was simply his mentor, as well as his temporary landlord. He needed to remember that.

While they toiled in the field one day, an unexpected visitor came to call. Hiro noticed him first. The man stood at the end of a row of beans, watching them work, and waited for them to reach the edge of the field. His fine silk robes and aristocratic bearing, as well as the servants waiting with his sedan chair, were markedly out of place. Touching Hanako on the shoulder, Hiro nodded toward the stranger.

"Do you know him?" he asked.

Hanako squinted at the lone figure. "I don't think so," she began, "but he reminds me of a character in some stories my father used to tell me when I was young. He was the evil man who could cast curses and create storms." She shuddered as if a chill had overtaken her.

Hiro chuckled at her colorful description, but sensing her discomfort, he walked with her to greet the man.

As they reached the edge of the field, the stranger bowed low. "Greetings, Shimizu-san. I am Ishikawa, and I come from the Office of Finance in Hakodate."

Hanako's face paled, and she seemed to shrink as the man continued speaking. Hiro reached out to put a reassuring hand on her back, but then realized the man was speaking to him.

"… and the Office of Finance has come to the realization that this farm has not been registered properly in the court records. You are thereby required to pay the fine, plus the taxes due for the past five years."

He heard Hanako's gasp of dismay, and gave her shoulder a squeeze before bowing to the man. "Ishikawa-san, I am afraid there has been a mistake. My name is Tanaka, and this is the widow of Shimizu-san. I am sure that she was unaware of the registration requirement, as well as the taxes."

Ishikawa was undeterred by Hiro's pronouncement. "Nonetheless, as the widow, she is responsible for the debts incurred by her husband. She must pay the fines and taxes, or the government will take ownership of the land."

"How is it that Shimizu-san was not notified of her husband's oversight?" Hiro persisted. "She cannot be held responsible for fines of which she was never made aware."

"She was notified by courier last fall. The missive specifically told her she would have six months to pay all debts."

Hiro turned to Hanako, who seemed to have shrunk even smaller. "Do you remember receiving this message?"

She turned sad eyes up to meet his. "I remember a courier came with a message, but I had no idea that it was a demand for money. It was — just after Kenji was killed in the raid, and all our crops were destroyed."

Indignation erupted in Hiro, and he breathed deeply to keep his composure. When he spoke, his words whipped at Ishikawa like steel shards, and the courtier stepped back as if to avoid their sting. "How dare you come here, demanding so much from a woman who has nothing? Has she not suffered enough?"

Ishikawa trembled and backed up to his waiting chair, but delivered one last blow. "She can have four more months, but the debt must be paid." Then he scrambled into his chair and squeaked a command to his lackeys to return him to the city. His head appeared through the window as he issued a parting threat. "I will return after the harvest."

Hiro waited until the man and his entourage were out of sight before turning to Hanako. The sight of her made him forget every thought, every feeling except compassion for her. Never had he seen such dejection, such defeat. He lifted her chin until his gaze met hers. He wanted to reassure her, to protect her from the pain Ishikawa-san's visit had caused.

"Do you still have the message he sent?" he asked quietly.

Hanako nodded mutely, and scurried into the hut. A moment later she returned with a rolled up document tied with a gold silk ribbon. Hiro raised a brow at her. "This looks unopened."

She bent her head. Hiro was about to ask why she would have ignored a directive from the government when she finally spoke.

"I can't read, and I didn't want to ask someone else to read it for me. I thought it was about Kenji, and since he was dead, I hoped it wouldn't matter." She gazed back to the fields she had so diligently cultivated all her life. "In the end, I guess it really doesn't make any difference. Even with the extra four months, I can't possibly earn enough money to pay the fines and taxes, whatever the amount. I'll be lucky to grow enough to live on through the winter."

Slowly she plodded back to her work.

Hiro tore the ribbon away and opened the document. His eyes opened wide at the amount named. Surely this was a mistake! His estate in Tokyo was not taxed this highly, and his lands were far more expansive than this plot. Something was not right. He would have to investigate the origin of this "official" document. In the meantime, he needed to offer comfort and assurance. Tucking the paper into the folds of his
yukata
, he rejoined Hanako in the field.

****

Hanako didn't dare look at Hiro for the rest of the afternoon. How he must loathe her for her lack of responsibility! Even though the missive had arrived at a difficult time in her life, she should have realized that it was something she needed to address immediately. Now she would certainly lose her home. She would have to sell the farm in order to raise some of the money she owed, but where would she go? She had no family to take her in. No one in the small village would hire her. Perhaps she could go to Sapporo and find work as a servant. For now, she needed to bury herself in work. She had a four-month reprieve. Perhaps the profits from a good harvest, along with the sale of the farm, would be enough to pay the debts.

In addition to her ignorance of financial matters, Hiro was probably disgusted by her illiteracy. A part of her realized most people in her station could not read, but in the presence of an intelligent man like Hiro, her lack of knowledge embarrassed her. Any time now, he would leave. After all, what could he possibly learn from a naive, illiterate, downtrodden female farmer?

She would miss his presence on the farm. Life had been so much easier since he came. Having a willing pair of hands — strong hands — had greatly increased productivity. More of her fields had been cultivated and cared for than any other season in her memory. Not only did her fields look better, her home was more habitable. The roof no longer leaked, and there was plenty of good food to eat. She had her "guest" to thank for all this.

Now he knew how sadly she lacked intelligence. He would soon be bored of her presence and move on. She would be alone again. It was her lot in life — first her father, then her husband, and now this gentle stranger would leave her. But this separation would be far more painful than either of the others.

In the evening, too restless to sleep, she went back outside and started digging the earth around the hut. Hiro found her there, meticulously turning the earth with her spade.

"What will you plant here?"

"I'm going to plant some flowers. The widow Nakamura gave some seedlings to me in exchange for some radishes."

"What will they look like?"

"I'm not sure, but the blossoms around her home always look beautiful. I thought I would try to make the place presentable if — if—" She held in a sob, unable to go on.

She felt his large hand, warm and reassuring, on her shoulder. "Do not think of that. You will continue to work here, as you always have, and you will have a good harvest this fall. Tomorrow morning, I must make a short trip to the city. I will return as soon as my business is completed."

Her eyes flew open, and she looked at him for the first time since Ishikawa's visit that afternoon. "You're leaving?"

"Only for a short while." His eyes twinkled and his lips stretched into a grin. "I still have much to learn from you."