The Ninja's Daughter (20 page)

Read The Ninja's Daughter Online

Authors: Susan Spann

Hiro bowed to the foreign priest. In truth, he outranked the Jesuit, but like everyone else, Father Vilela believed that Hiro was merely a humble ronin.

Father Vilela nodded to Hiro and bowed to Father Mateo, who had just emerged from his room.

“Good morning,” Father Mateo said. “I am honored by your visit. Would you like tea?”

“Regrettably, I cannot stay for refreshments.” Father Vilela crossed to the hearth and knelt in the place reserved for guests.

Hiro stood beside his door as Father Mateo joined the senior Jesuit by the fire. Custom did not permit a ronin translator to act as his master's equal.

“Does your congregation keep you busy, Mateo?” Father Vilela asked.

The innocuous question put Hiro on alert. Samurai often opened unpleasant conversations with innocent inquiries.

Father Mateo smiled. “Japan has become my home, and the Japanese people, my people. Attending to their needs is not a burden.”

“Indeed.” Father Vilela nodded. “Yet I wonder, perhaps, if you have become a bit too attached to these people.”

“No more than the Lord whose example I follow,” Father Mateo said. “He commanded us to love without reservation.”

“And also to respect authority,” Father Vilela added.

“Who have I offended this time?” Father Mateo's question shattered the subtle Japanese tone of the conversation.

Though Portuguese by birth, Father Vilela showed a samurai's discomfort at the question. “Mateo . . .”

“You said you had no time for a social visit,” Father Mateo said. “With respect, let's drop the charade and get to the point. You come here only when someone complains. I simply wish to know whose dog I kicked.”

Hiro appreciated the choice of words. Most of the samurai in Kyoto were sworn retainers of various daimyo, so calling them dogs was not far off the mark.

“As you wish.” Father Vilela nodded slowly. “Yesterday afternoon I had a message from the magistrate, Ishimaki. He asked me to inform you that the Kyoto police have sole authority over crimes in the capital. Your investigative assistance is not required and will no longer be tolerated.”

“I spoke with the magistrate yesterday, myself,” Father Mateo said. “I assured him I would let the matter drop.”

“This is not about a single matter.” Father Vilela sighed. “Mateo, I care for the Japanese people as much as you do. Had I not, I wouldn't have granted permission for you to establish this ministry and preach God's Word to the common classes. But you have exceeded your mandate. You have no authority to investigate crimes or bring killers to justice. Leave those matters to the authorities.”

“The authorities do not care—”

Father Vilela held up a hand for silence. “For three years, I have supported you, defended you when samurai took offense. I allowed you to hire a translator and to finance your work through the efforts of Luis Álvares, in order to give you more freedom than the Church could formally approve.”

The senior Jesuit folded his hands and laid them in his lap. “Now, the situation has changed. I do not have the ear, or the friendship, of Shogun Matsunaga. He keeps his distance in ways that make me fear for the Church's future in Japan. We must not anger him, or the magistrate, at this crucial time.”

“Are you ordering me to turn a blind eye to injustice?” Father Mateo's voice revealed frustration.

“I am warning you,” Father Vilela said, “that I cannot protect you any longer.”

“Protect me?” Father Mateo repeated.

“I have reason to believe that Matsunaga Hisahide intends to expel the Jesuits from Kyoto,” Father Vilela said, “and that he will do it before the Miyoshi reach the city.”

“You know about the Miyoshi army?” Father Mateo asked.

“The samurai speak of little else. Most of my congregants pray for the chance to distinguish themselves in the coming war.” Father Vilela smiled sadly. “I tell them, time and again, that those who live by the sword will die by its blade. . . .”

“Yet samurai aspire to such an end,” Father Mateo finished.

“Indeed. But that is not my mission here today. You will promise not to involve yourself in any more investigations.” Father Vilela looked at Hiro. “Both of you will make this promise.”

Hiro raised his chin and didn't answer. He rarely appreciated orders, especially from men without authority to command him.

Father Vilela frowned. “If you refuse to give your word, then I must ask you both to leave Kyoto.”

CHAPTER 37

Hiro could hardly believe his luck.

“Leave the city?” Father Mateo protested. “But my work is here.”

“Not if Shogun Matsunaga bans our order from Kyoto,” Father Vilela said, “and if he does, our lives will be in danger. I am sending the younger acolytes into the countryside to keep them safe. I think it wise for you to leave as well.”

“Matsunaga Hisahide cannot ban us from Kyoto,” Father Mateo argued. “The emperor granted us permission to live and work in the capital, and he outranks the shogun.”

“In name, perhaps, but not in power,” Father Vilela said. “My assistant, Izumo, received a warning that Hisahide does not want us in the city. He will not tell me how he knows this, but I trust his sources and his instincts.”

Hiro wondered which of the shinobi clans had warned Izumo, and whether the trusted acolyte was also a shinobi in disguise. If so, he must belong to the Koga ryu.

Father Vilela turned to Hiro. “You do not come from Kyoto.”

Hiro nodded agreement. “My family lives in Iga.”

Relief washed over the senior Jesuit's face. “The shogun does not control that province. Would you take Mateo for a visit to your family home?”

Hiro paused in surprise before answering. “This is a most unusual request.”

But a welcome one.

“Pardon me,” Father Mateo said, “but I would prefer to remain in Kyoto. I will not abandon my congregation.”

Father Vilela turned back to the hearth. “Do not become a fool for the sake of pride.”

“This has nothing to do with pride.” Father Mateo stood up. “I will not abandon my work because a warlord threatens exile. I will wait until I have no other choice.”

“Then wait no longer.” Father Vilela rose to his feet, as calm as a pond on a summer evening. “Under the authority vested in me by the Holy Catholic Church, I hereby order you to leave Kyoto no later than sunset tomorrow. You may not return until I rescind this order.”

“Tomorrow?” Father Mateo sounded shocked. “Impossible. I need more time—”

“You have until the barricades close tomorrow evening.” Father Vilela brushed an invisible speck of dirt from his kimono. “Luis Álvares may remain to watch the house and run his business. If he chooses to leave along with you, the Church will care for the property in your absence. I will also arrange for a Japanese priest to lead your congregation. Prepare a list of your gathering times and Masses. Leave it here for him when you go.”

Father Mateo looked horrified, but Hiro felt relieved. He only hoped Luis's replacement didn't reach the city ahead of schedule.

Father Vilela bowed. “I am sorry it came to this. Goodbye, Mateo.
Dominus vobiscum
.”

Father Mateo bowed in return. “And may the Lord be with thy spirit also.”

Father Vilela nodded and left the house.

“How can I leave my congregation?” Father Mateo turned to Hiro. “Not to mention abandoning the search for Emi's killer?”

“Can you refuse to obey him?” Hiro asked.

“Not without risking expulsion from the Church,” Father Mateo said.

“Then it appears you have no choice.” Hiro shrugged. “As for finding the murderer, we have today and tomorrow.”

Father Mateo frowned. “Last night you'd given up. What changed?”

“A man who takes advantage of blood deserves to have it spilled,” Hiro said.

“Satsu?” Father Mateo asked. “Did you solve the murder in the night?”

“Not exactly, but I strongly suspect there's more to this killing than just a girl who wanted her independence. Also, I don't understand what Satsu hoped to gain from our investigation or what changed to make him call it off last night.”

“Perhaps he really is worried about your safety,” Father Mateo suggested. “He is your uncle, after all.”

Hiro shook his head. “That's not our way. Do you have the coin?”

Father Mateo looked surprised. “You want to return it?”

“I want you to bring it,” Hiro said, “but don't admit to having it with you, unless I tell you otherwise.”

It took well over an hour for Hiro and Father Mateo to reach Fushimi Inari Shrine, which lay southeast of the city proper and east of the Kamo River.

Hiro approached a bald-headed monk at the enormous torii gate that marked the entrance to the shrine. “Good morning. Can you direct us to the stage where the nō rehearsal is taking place?”

“With respect, you've come too early,” the monk replied. “The performance won't take place until tomorrow.”

“Forgive me.” Hiro bowed. “We did not come to watch the show. The foreign priest is curious. He hoped to see the actors in rehearsal.”

“Ah.” The monk nodded. “Forgive my error. They finished setting up the stage this morning. The actors should be starting practice now.” He turned and gestured to the east. “If you follow the path in that direction, around the base of the mountain, you will find them. Or, if you prefer, I can escort you.”

“Thank you,” Hiro said, “but we can find the way ourselves.”

The monk bowed. “Of course, sir. As you wish.”

Hiro and Father Mateo walked along the tree-lined path. The golden beams of the rising sun filtered through the branches as the scents of dust and pine perfumed the air.

Father Mateo looked at the pine trees towering overhead. “What a lovely place.”

“Inari is one of the most important kami,” Hiro said.

“The god of foxes, unless I'm mistaken,” Father Mateo replied.

“As well as rice, and tea, and sake,” Hiro added, “and other things.”

“I wonder why the Yutoku-za is performing here, instead of in a private home.”

“Most likely, the samurai wanted to garner favor with Inari
Ōkami
as well as friends and family,” Hiro said. “That, or he lacked the space to host a performance in his home.”

A wailing chant echoed through the trees from somewhere up ahead.

“I am a courtier in the service of Emperor Shujaku. You must know that the prime minister's daughter, Princess Aoi, has fallen sick . . .”

Father Mateo stopped walking. “What is that?”

Hiro smiled. “Rehearsal has begun.”

They continued along the path until they emerged from the trees and entered a clearing large enough to hold at least a hundred people. On the opposite side of the clearing, a trio of drummers knelt across the back of a large, raised platform, which served as a stage. A line of men in matching blue kimono knelt along the right side of the stage, facing inward toward the platform's center. A masked performer wearing a white outer tunic knelt in front of the group. His face tilted downward, toward a folded gold kimono that lay near the front and center of the stage.

Yuji stood near the back of the stage, wearing a patterned surcoat over white hakama. He held a fan and wore a courtier's tall, cylindrical hat atop his head.

“Stop here,” Hiro murmured. “We don't want to interrupt.”

CHAPTER 38

Yuji continued his warbling chant as Hiro and Father Mateo watched.

“What play is this?” Father Mateo whispered. “Do you know it?”

Hiro nodded, still watching the stage. “
Aoi no Ue
. It's based on
The Tale of Genji
. Do you know the work?”

Father Mateo shook his head.

Hiro glanced at the priest and whispered, “Yuji is playing the role of the courtier, who narrates this part of the play. The actor in the mask is playing the role of Priestess Teruhi, who has come to exorcise the demon plaguing Lady Aoi.”

“Where's Lady Aoi?” Father Mateo whispered back.

Hiro nodded toward the stage. “The
kosode
.”

“You mean, the kimono with no one in it?” Father Mateo asked.

Hiro nodded again and whispered, “Yes. It represents Lady Aoi.”

“Will Haru play that role in the performance?”

Hiro looked at the priest. “Lady Aoi
is
the kimono.”

“Yes—but who wears it?”

Hiro shook his head. “No one. It just lies there.”

“How is that Lady Aoi?”

“A painting of a mountain is not a mountain,” Hiro said, “and yet you recognize the image as a mountain. In similar fashion, that kimono represents the Lady Aoi.”

“So, no one wears it.”

“Watch for a moment,” Hiro whispered. “You will understand.”

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