White Serpent Castle (7 page)

Jihei looked at the departing envoy, and his expression was sardonic. “I think that the party is coming to an end,” he told Zenta. “It's time to settle down for a good rest.”

“Oh, I agree entirely,” said Zenta. “I'm ready for bed myself.”

He wondered how much of the conversation between himself and the envoy Jihei had overheard. On the whole, he thought pessimistically, he had better assume that Jihei had heard too much.

Chapter 8

 

 

Zenta had his own ideas about how to spend the quiet night ahead. As soon as Jihei was out of sight, he looked around for Matsuzo. He needed an agile companion for his coming plans this night, and his young friend was the only person in the castle that he could trust.

But Matsuzo was not to be seen. He was probably off somewhere to admire the moon and compose poetry. Zenta felt rather sorry for the young ronin. He knew that Matsuzo had come from a well-bred family and was used to comfort, and yet he had never questioned Zenta about his plans or complained about the hardships. Smiling faintly, Zenta decided to let Matsuzo enjoy his poetry in peace for the time being. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching, and then he made for the direction of the women's quarters.

Walking very softly himself, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps at once. He quickly stepped behind some bushes. Peeking out between the branches, he saw two figures creeping stealthily down the path: a woman holding a paper lantern, and a small boy clutching a bamboo cricket cage.

“Hold the lantern lower so they won't see our light,” whispered the boy, who looked about nine years old. He showed the guilty glee of a child out late at night without his mother's permission.

“Yes, but please keep your voice down,” warned the woman. She was dressed in some light-colored garment that floated a little in the evening breeze.

“Why are we going so far?” asked the boy. “I thought that the best crickets are near the foot of the stone walls.”

The soft voice of the woman was sweetly persuasive. “You told me that you wanted the biggest and noisiest cricket we could find, didn't you? Well, I happen to know that the best ones are in the cracks between the stones of the bridge over the moat. Won't everybody be impressed tomorrow when you show them what you've got in your cage!”

Noiselessly, Zenta left his hiding place and began to follow the woman and the boy, keeping a distance of about ten paces. As the silent procession moved along, he began to wonder why they had not run into any guards. Considering the chamberlain's nervousness about an attempted insurrection, one would expect to find armed men posted about. Was it possible that the chamberlain had given orders for his men not to interfere with what the woman was doing?

She led the boy through a small gate. By the time Zenta had passed through in his turn, the boy was standing at the very edge of the moat with the woman right behind him. Slowly, she raised her hand. Her intention was unmistakable.

Zenta lost no time. He covered the distance to the woman in four swift strides. Grasping her by the collar, he asked, “What are you doing?”

The woman choked back the beginnings of a shriek and dropped her lantern.

With a swoop, Zenta caught it before it fell to the ground. It was still lighted. He held it up to examine her, but she hid her face behind her sleeve.

Then he turned to the little boy, who stood trembling so hard that the cricket cage rattled in his hand. “Isn't it time for you to go to bed?” Zenta asked.

The boy looked to the woman for support. Finding none, he controlled his trembling, drew himself up and held his head high. “I am Okudaira Yoshiteru, and this is my father's castle.” Then some of his dignity faded, and in a slightly defensive tone he added, “I don't see why you should care about my bedtime. Who are you, anyway?”

So this was Yoshiteru. With his sturdy build and his determined stance, the boy was a small version of Lord Okudaira.

Zenta found himself smiling. “My name is Konishi Zenta. I was taking a walk to clear some wine fumes from my head, and I saw your light. Earlier I noticed that the banks of the moat were slippery in some places. When I saw you standing at the edge, I was afraid that you were an intoxicated guest about to fall into the water. Please excuse my intrusion.”

The boy nodded graciously to acknowledge the apology. Then his mouth dropped open. “Konishi Zenta! You must be the warrior who arrived this afternoon and turned all the chamberlain's men upside down! I wish I had seen that fight!”

“You didn't miss anything interesting, only some rather clumsy tumbling about,” said Zenta. Then he put his hand out. “May I look at your cricket cage? What an elegant one! I used to collect crickets when I was a boy, and some of mine were champions.”

As the boy proudly showed off his cricket cage, Zenta asked casually, “Do you often go out at night to hunt crickets? How does your mother feel about your going out so late?”

The boy Yoshiteru looked a little shamefaced. “To tell the truth, my mother doesn't let me go out at all after dark. She is becoming terribly nervous lately. That's why we decided not to tell her about our plan to go out tonight. . . .” He broke off when he found that his woman companion had disappeared. “That's funny, where did she go?”

“What is her name?” asked Zenta. He had seen the woman slipping away, but had decided not to stop her by violent means for fear of alarming Yoshiteru. “Has she been serving your mother for long?”

“No, she's quite new,” replied Yoshiteru. “I'm afraid I don't know her name. You see, after my father died, the chamberlain started to replace our attendants. We have so many new people that I haven't sorted everyone out yet.”

“Who thought of going out tonight to hunt crickets?” asked Zenta. “Was it your idea?”

“She suggested it, because she knew how much I liked to collect crickets,” replied Yoshiteru. He added defensively, “I can't stay cooped up by a lot of jumpy women all the time, if I want to grow up to be a proper warrior.”

“I'm not sure that tonight's expedition was a good idea,” said Zenta firmly. “When your mother finds you gone, she will be terribly worried. A proper samurai would not cause unnecessary anxiety to his mother.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Yoshiteru. “I suppose you're right, since you are such a great warrior yourself. We'd better go back before my mother starts looking for me, then.” As they started back, he began to look a little worried. “I'm afraid I don't know how I am going to sneak back into my room again.”

“A samurai would not sneak into his room,” said Zenta. Seeing that the boy was really looking worried, he added, “Let's go back together. You can leave the explanations to me.”

“Oh, yes, my mother would listen to
you
,” said Yoshiteru eagerly. “I still wish I had seen that fight of yours, though. Can you arrange another fight soon? And make sure that I'm there to see it?”

“I'll do my best,” said Zenta gravely. “Is there anyone in particular whom you want me to fight?”

Yoshiteru gave this question serious consideration. “Well, I'd like it to be one of the chamberlain's men again. How about Jihei? I don't care for the way he looks at me sometimes. And he is such a strong man that everybody was afraid of him, until you came along.” “But he kept aloof from the fight this afternoon,” said Zenta.

“That was because he thought his men could finish you off without him. Wasn't he surprised!” As he talked, Yoshiteru led Zenta to the complex of wooden buildings that formed Lady Kaede's apartments. They still had not encountered any guards.

When they were within sight of the buildings, they could hear shrill and excited voices. Yoshiteru's steps began to lag, and he finally stopped altogether. Looking for reassurance from his companion, he said rather dubiously, “You know, you don't look very fierce. How do you frighten your enemies when you fight?”

“Oh, I can look very fierce when I'm fighting. I roll my eyes and cross them like this. Then I gnash my teeth together,” said Zenta, and proceeded to demonstrate. Looming over the delighted boy, he gave a terrifying snarl.

Instantly they were surrounded by a group of hysterically excited women. Cries and shrieks came from every side.

“Help! Help!”

“He's threatening our little lord!” “Save Lord Yoshiteru!”

Some of the women tried to carry off the indignantly kicking boy, while others clutched at Zenta, whose protests were completely drowned out.

From the corner of his eye the ronin caught a flash. He flung himself to one side and barely escaped the swishing blade of a murderous looking weapon.

This was a halberd, a broad curved knife mounted on a long pole. It was the traditional weapon of women in samurai households. When wielded by a trained fighter, it produced terror in the hearts of strong men.

Zenta was frankly terrified. There were three women wielding halberds, and his attempts to dodge their swings were greatly hampered by lack of space and by the clutching hands of the other women. He did not draw his sword, not wishing to cause unnecessary bloodshed, and he tried to use one of the women as a shield. The ferocious women fighters, however, were willing to cut down one of their own people in order to reach him. He was hampered also by a fatal urge to laugh, which had a weakening effect worse than that of wine or fatigue.

Help finally arrived from an unexpected quarter. Yoshiteru succeeded in escaping from his would-be rescuers. Wiggling through the legs of the women, he came up to the female warriors and grabbed at the handle of a halberd before it could descend again.

“Stop! Stop, you stupid women! Can't you understand? He's my friend! He was just taking me home!”

His high voice finally penetrated the din. One by one, the women fell back. To Zenta's relief, the female warriors stepped back and rested their weapons.

Yoshiteru glared around him. “You were attacking Konishi Zenta, you stupid fools! I was out hunting crickets tonight and I met him by the moat. Since it was late and dark, he kept me company on the way home. You'd better say you're sorry! He can cut off all your heads with just two strokes of his sword if he wanted to.” The circle of women stared in dismay. Then slowly, one by one, they bowed down until their heads were almost touching the ground. They were heard to mumble some unintelligible apologies.

Yoshiteru dismissed them with a lordly gesture and turned to examine Zenta. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

Zenta straightened his torn clothing and grinned ruefully down at the boy. “Well, you've had your desire. You saw me in a fight. If you hadn't come to my rescue, I would have been chopped to pieces by those female Deva Kings.” Yoshiteru grinned. “Those women are pretty frightening, aren't they? My father made them train with the halberd. He heard of a castle which was taken by the enemy, and when all the samurai defenders were killed, it was the women fighters who managed to hold off the besiegers so that the lord had time to commit hara-kiri and escape capture.”

“I'm glad to see that you and your mother have such effective protectors,” said Zenta.

Yoshiteru's face fell. “We used to have many more of these fighting women, but the chamberlain has been sending them away one by one. Those three are the only ones left.” Then he brightened. “But you should see my sister Tama! She is the best halberd fighter of all, and she is equal to ten men!”

“With such high standards as these, any fight that
I
can arrange is sure to be disappointing,” murmured Zenta.

One of the women approached and bowed. With her voice now low and humble she addressed Zenta. “My Lady Kaede says that she would like to see you in her reception room so that she can thank you personally for bringing back Lord Yoshiteru. Would you come this way, please.”

Zenta gloomily inspected some tears which had already appeared in his new kimono. His clothes had a habit of going to pieces on him. He followed the attendant in with a resigned shrug, hoping that Lady Kaede would not be influenced by appearances.

In the reception room a beautifully painted door slid apart to reveal Lady Kaede seated on a flat silk cushion upon a low dais. Behind her were a hanging scroll painted in the Chinese manner and a flower arrangement. Both, like Lady Kaede's kimono, were striking in their simplicity.

Zenta advanced until there was a distance of three
tatami
mats between him and the dais. Placing his long sword behind him, he made a profound bow. When he raised his head, he found Lady Kaede's eyes resting thoughtfully on him. They were luminous with unshed tears.

In the dining hall which had been brightly lit by tall candles, Lady Kaede's beauty had possessed an inhuman brilliance. Seen closer up, her beauty was just as perfect, but it was softened by the mellow light from a flame burning in a dish of oil.

“I am truly grateful to you for bringing home this disobedient boy,” she said in her soft Western accent. “Ever since his absence was discovered, our household has been distracted by anxiety. Thank you for relieving our minds, and for bringing him back to us safe and sound.” Her voice faltered a little at the end.

Then she recovered herself and turned to her son, looking at once indulgent and exasperated. “Why haven't you been put to bed?”

“You haven't served any refreshments to our guest yet,” Yoshiteru pointed out. “I think he looks hungry.”

He turned and asked Zenta, “You would like some tea and confection, wouldn't you? If you go to bed with an empty stomach, you won't be able to sleep well.”

Zenta kept a straight face. “Some refreshments would be delightful, but I don't want to put this household to any trouble.”

Lady Kaede bit her lips to suppress a smile. She beckoned to an attendant and whispered some instructions.

“Be sure to bring the yellow citron-flavored
yokan
, because I don't like the dark kind,” said Yoshiteru. Then he added, “That is, I'm sure our guest prefers the citron-flavored one, too.” After the attendant left, Lady Kaede's smile faded. She turned a careworn face to Zenta and asked, “Was Yoshiteru alone when you found him? How did he get out of the gate?”