Dale Furutani - Jade Palace Vendetta

“What?” Elder Grandma said, startled. “Why?”

“As a protest. I want to die as a protest.”

“What are you talking about, you ridiculous old fool?” Elder Grandma chastised.

“I have served the Noguchi my entire life,” Sadakatsu explained. “I have always been proud to be a servant in the employ of the Noguchi, just as my father and his father before him served your family. The Noguchi show proper samurai honor and frugality. They also exhibit proper bushido, the way of the warrior. They have never been, to my knowledge, unjust. If you kill this samurai, then you will be unjust, and I want my death to protest this injustice.”

“Have you gone senile? What is unfair about dispatching Mototane’s murderer into the void?”

“His act was murder, but at the time he thought he was defending an innocent merchant on the highway. How many men would put themselves at risk in similar circumstances? I know that this samurai does things to help the weak that most others will not. He is now being honest with you, and I can tell he has sincere remorse. He took Mototane’s sword, which was a valuable one, and flung it into Sagami Bay to try to ease Mototane’s spirit.

“He said Mototane died in a duel. That meant that Mototane had an equal chance to kill or be killed. It was Mototane’s karma to die, which is something that brings me great sadness. It would also bring me greater sadness if the Noguchi were dishonored by unfairly killing this samurai.”

Elder Grandma was nonplussed and stared at her servant as if she had never seen him before. Usually Sadakatsu stayed silent and did what he was told. She couldn’t imagine what spirit had gotten into the thin servant that caused him to spout such words.

Her grandson, Nagatoki, came to her and also fell to his knees. He said, “Sadakatsu is right. If you kill this samurai, you will be killing the wrong man. Hishigawa is the man who tricked Matsuyama-san into killing Mototane. It is Hishigawa who is responsible for his death. Hishigawa is now dead, killed by your own hand. If you are going to kill the samurai, then kill me, too, for I could not stand the dishonor of such an act.”

Elder Grandma stepped back, looking at the three men kneeling or bowing on the dirt before her. Her sword drooped and, for the first time, she was uncertain about what was right. She suddenly looked and felt as old as she really was.

Finally, she said, “All right, the samurai lives. Our bargain was for him to tell me what happened to Mototane. He has done so, although his news is something totally unexpected.” Noticing that the three men had not moved, she said, “Get up.” Then, with a touch of her old authority creeping back into her voice, she said, “Get up!”

Kaze did as he was told and looked deeply into the face of the old woman. The challenge to her authority seemed to affect her. Her lined face, once the picture of martial determination, now looked tired. Her hair, once a helmet of steel, was now a bundle of gray strands. Her posture, once as straight-spined as that of any general, was now round-shouldered and sagging. Kaze marveled at how the mind controls the body, but he was not prepared to offer sympathy to Elder Grandma yet. In her life, she must have known many disappointments and challenges. She had now just had both, with the news of her grandson Mototane’s death and the rebellion of her little ragtag force. But this woman was resilient, and over the many years she had lived, she had never allowed life or its events to defeat her. She would be back to full vigor soon.

As soon as Kaze thought this, he saw Elder Grandma straighten visibly. “Since you’ve told me about Mototane, I will tell you about the cloth,” she said to Kaze, as if the threat of death and the subsequent rebellion had not just occurred. Kaze marveled at her strength and was reminded that women are truly frightening. No man could recover as quickly.

“That piece of cloth was used to pack gifts that Ando brought when Hishigawa was trying to court Yuchan. I don’t know its origin, but I do know its source. It comes from Hishigawa. How he got it, I don’t know. It is something you can no longer ask him.”

Now it was Kaze’s turn to sag. “I know how he came by that cloth,” Kaze said. “He told me about his recent business dealings. At the time, I didn’t realize that the young girls he talked about brokering included the daughter of my Lady.”

Elder Grandma gave a nod, and the palanquin porters hoisted their load. Yuchan was so light, it was if the palanquin were empty. She looked out from the palanquin, a living skeleton. Kaze knew that they’d stop at an inn after they left Kamakura and Yuchan would be able to take a decent bath and put on one of Elder Grandma’s kimonos. The dirt of captivity could be washed from her, but she would never regain her beauty or her innocence.

She looked out from the palanquin and said just two words to Kaze. “Thank you.” That, and the tears in her eyes, were enough.

As they were about to depart, Elder Grandma gave an almost imperceptible dip of her head in Kaze’s direction.

“Elder Grandma,” Kaze said.

“What?” she answered gruffly.

“Yuchan needs patience and care. She doesn’t need to be bullied into normalcy. She will return to normal on her own. She’s more than proven she will not respond to bullying.”

“What do you …” Elder Grandma’s retort died on her lips. She glanced at the palanquin that held her granddaughter. Reluctant to cede to Kaze’s authority but cognizant of the soundness of his prescription, she said, “All right.”

“Good.”

Elder Grandma marched in front of the porters, holding her spear. The servant, Sadakatsu, burdened with his pack, shuffled along behind the palanquin. Only the grandson, Nagatoki, stopped, looking back at Kaze. In the pale gray light that preceded the dawn, he smiled a half smile and waved his hand in farewell. Kaze nodded his understanding and waved back. Then he turned to go.

He was not anxious to stay in Kamakura. The events at Hishigawa’s villa and the Jade Palace would be known to the authorities there. Most likely they were already searching for the perpetrators, although Kaze expected that they would be looking for a group of men, not just one, when they saw the carnage that had been wrought. Elder Grandma had taken her granddaughter out of the north entrance to Kamakura, through the kiridoshi. Kaze decided to go northwest, along the smaller coastal road.

As he walked, he thought about his next move. Perhaps he should return to Kyoto to search for the girl. After all, that’s where Hishigawa did much of his business. The light gray of predawn was starting to illuminate the world. Kaze was close enough to the sea to get a waft of salt air that invigorated his spirit and helped him forget about the aches in his shoulders and arms.

Kaze had proceeded along the road for a couple of ri when he became aware that someone was following him. The man was an expert and didn’t want to be seen yet, and from that Kaze guessed who it was.

When they came to a remote part of the road, the man showed himself plainly, and Kaze stopped. He turned to look down the road and saw the man approaching him. It was Enomoto.

A sliver of red sun was over Kaze’s left shoulder. Pink streaks of dawn started to marble the clouds.

Enomoto’s face was grim-his jaw set, his eyes watching Kaze’s every movement. He approached Kaze, then stopped outside the reach of a sword’s blade.

“Nani? What?” Kaze asked.

“I’m here to fight you,” Enomoto said.

Kaze was a little surprised. “I don’t want to do that,” Kaze responded.