Despite my daytime nap, when we returned to the Spring Palace, I was exhausted. Benkon’s drink seemed to do the trick, though. I had no memory of any dreams, only the blackness of drugged oblivion.
In addition to working with the women, Professor had me working with some of the more “eager” men. Typically, these were youngsters who hadn’t had a lot of training but were very keen to help defend the saké house. He hoped I would be able to teach them at least a little technique to go with their wild enthusiasm. Of course, Knucklehead was a member of this group. I was trying to break him of his tendency to raise his tachi above his head and charge, swinging his weapon wildly the entire time. This tactic might work against a group of peasants, but not against anyone at all experienced.
The third time he went stumbling past me, and I tapped him on the back of his head with my bokken, I said, “Let’s take a break for a bit. I don’t know about you, but I need a rest.” I did, too. I was completely worn out from trying to beat some sense into his thick skull.
Surei had come out to talk to the women practicing across the training field, not far from my group. She had her training robes on that morning and looked much better than she had when we parted the night before. She wasn’t having any trouble with bad dreams. She stood with Professor in front of the group and addressed them.
“There have been a few incidents recently that highlight the need for the training we have been providing for you. Some ruffians attacked some of the women, and if not for Professor’s brave intervention, things could have gone badly.” She scanned the faces of the group in front of her. “However, I will be blunt. This training is of no use if you are not prepared to use it. You have to be ready to kill someone. As women, you lack the strength and reach of most men. Also, the training we are giving you will not prepare you to face an experienced fighter in something like a duel.”
She turned to Professor. “Draw your bokken and hold it out in front of you, please.”
She stood at the tip of his bokken, drew her own weapon and waved it at him. The tip of her bokken didn’t even reach his elbow. “See what I mean?”
The women tittered nervously. She nodded to Professor, and he dropped the bokken to his side.
“You are smaller and weaker than most of your opponents. What can you do, then?”
She once more nodded at Professor, who raised his bokken. This time, Surei walked up to him without a weapon in her hand. Seeming unsure about her intentions, Professor lowered the weapon as she passed. With a lightning quick move, Surei had a tantou out and stabbed it at Professor’s throat. She pulled her blow at the last possible moment, but it was evident to everyone she could have killed him. She returned the tantou to its sheath.
She turned to the women again. “Surprise. Surprise is the best weapon you have. You may be facing someone bigger, stronger, or better trained, but if you can surprise him, you can defeat him. This is not a game—it is not a contest with rules. The only measure of victory is that you live, and your opponent dies. However, your advantage of surprise will only last a moment.”
Surei reached up into the sleeve of her robe and drew the long knife she had been carrying strapped to her forearm. “We carry tantou because they are easy to hide. It is not a weapon for fighting, it is a weapon for killing, and you must kill your opponent quickly. As you strike the practice dummies today, I want you to visualize them as having a person’s face on them. Prepare yourself to kill.”
Surei swept her gaze over the women for a long moment. “If you don’t think you can kill someone, talk to Professor or me. Defending our home entails many tasks. Not all of them require fighting. There are many other things to be done.”
While Surei was talking, Knucklehead had come up beside me. When she was done, he said, loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the training field, “Sure, you can beat someone when you deceive them and take them by surprise. I’d like to see how you do against someone who is ready for your cowardly tricks.” Surei stopped and turned, one eyebrow arched. I put my face in my hands.
In an overly courteous manner, she asked him, “Would you care to try me?” He grabbed his bokken. I put my hand on his shoulder to try and stop him, but he shrugged my hand off and strode over to where Surei waited.
They squared off, Knucklehead raising his bokken over his head. As they started moving, I began counting in my head.
One. Raising his bokken even higher, if that was possible, Knucklehead charged.
Two. Surei slipped to the side and Knucklehead hurtled past.
Three. Surei poked him in the back of his neck with her tantou. “You’re dead,” she informed him.
That went about the way I expected.
Everyone on the training field laughed, and many of them applauded. Knucklehead’s face was bright red with anger and embarrassment.
He turned back to Surei and shouted, “I challenge you again!”
She looked at me in exasperation, “Please tell me your students aren’t all this stupid.” I gave her a helpless shrug.
Turning back to Knucklehead she picked a bokken up off the ground and said, “I accept.” They squared off again.
Enough is enough. Let’s show them how it should be done.
Walking up behind Knucklehead, I plucked his bokken out of his grasp and told him, “Shut up and watch. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Turning to Surei, I bowed, assumed a fighting stance, and said, “Allow me to stand-in for the young fool.”
Surei had been holding her bokken negligently in one hand, obviously unconcerned about her upcoming bout. When I presented myself, her smile widened, and she straightened and gripped her weapon with both hands. She gave me a small bow of acknowledgment and also took up a preparatory stance.
We stood there for a moment immobile, then began.
A kata is one of the fundamental moves of any martial discipline—an attack, a counter, or a dodge. When I was a child, my instructors would have me memorize the kata, then practice it until I could execute it perfectly every time. I would then go and teach it to Surei, and we would work on them together. We would spar by running through the kata in order. It allowed us to practice our form and limber up without worry of hurting each other.
Now, we did the same thing, at a moderate pace, in order to take the measure of each other. We began as we always did, with the kata itsutsu no tachi. As we sparred, I had a flash of insight. Watching Surei perform the wide gestures and flowing movements of the kata, it resembled the dances for which she was so famous. Her years working with me had given her the tools she needed to become the Dancer of the Scarlet Hyacinth.
I heard snatches of conversation among the crowd as people commented on our form and the execution of our attacks. After working through our usual sequence of kata, we paused. Surei looked at me and nodded fractionally. We would do it again.
This time, we ran through the drills at regular speed, as we had when we were training in our youths. The moves were faster, the cuts more forceful, the escapes narrower. Each of us worked harder. The conversation continued, but now, people expressed concern if either of us made a mistake, we might get hurt.
When we finished the second round, we were both winded. We stood for a few moments, recovering.
When we sparred together as youngsters, every so often, Surei and I would abandon our choreographed sparring and perform a real duel to test ourselves. Each of us would be trying to defeat the other, no limits, giving everything we had.
I looked at Surei again, and once more, she nodded. We would do it for real this time.
We ran through the attacks and counters at full speed, holding nothing back, pushing ourselves as hard as we could. The crowd grew silent as they watched us. I heard Professor’s indrawn breath as he realized what we were doing. A careless move or a mistimed attack could lead to serious injury or death. Broken bones would be the best result we could hope for.
I raised my bokken to a vertical position in front of me. She made two overhead strikes, both of which I blocked. She stabbed at my midriff. I backed away to avoid the blow as she followed. She took a high cut at my neck. I blocked her and forced her bokken to the ground. Releasing the bind, I gave a hard thrust at her belly from my hip, stepping forward to lend more power to the blow. Twisting to one side to avoid my strike, she made a rising cut to my head. Wrenching my weapon in a half-circle, I knocked her blow out of position, then used my momentum to make my own cut at her neck. With a graceful pirouette, Surei avoided my strike and made a backhand cut at my leg. Stepping back to avoid her weapon, I immediately stepped forward again as it passed, and performed a quick high cut at her shoulder. She deflected the blow and slashed at my arm.
One of the precepts of Buddhism is that the essence of enlightenment is to achieve a state of “no-mind.” I don’t understand it precisely, but Benkon once explained it was the art of reacting to each event and each person with no expectations, approaching each moment as something new and unique.
I believe that no-mind is similar to the mental state I achieved then. We were moving so fast, acting so quickly, everything happening at such a furious rate, it was impossible to try and think about counters or to plan ahead. Instead, I entered a state of being that was pure reaction. Instinct, training, and reflexes took over, unhindered by conscious choice. It was the closest thing to the “higher state of consciousness” so beloved by the mystics that I could imagine. The feeling of it was indescribable, almost sexual in nature.
Our bodies flew in a frenzy of motion. The bokken flashed in an invisible blur, the rapidly staccato clack clack clack of their impact echoing across the courtyard. Plumes of steam wafted up in the cold morning air from the intensity of our exertions.
Surei broke the rhythm and began a move unfamiliar to me. She’s trying to “kill” me and win the match, I realized. I dropped to one knee to avoid her energetic cut at my head. Then, I launched myself forward and up from the ground, driving the point of my bokken into the space between her breasts, stopping just as I touched her robe. We both froze. “You’re dead,” I said softly.
After a moment of silence, the onlookers burst into raucous cheers and applause, deeply impressed by our little demonstration.
She smiled, slightly at first but widening to a full-on grin and finally ending in laughter, a loud, unrestrained peal of merriment the likes of which I hadn’t heard from her since I returned.
I realized I was both exhausted and intensely excited from the workout. I leaned on my bokken, catching my breath. Surei didn’t seem nearly as winded as I felt. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright. She looked completely alive. I thought perhaps I detected the same excitement in her.
I am barely dead and already you are pursuing Surei? I was nothing but a plaything for you.
I flinched as once again Akiko’s voice sounded in my head as clearly as if she were standing right beside me. Spooked, I looked around, softly asking, “Akiko?” Of course, she wasn’t there. I pulled myself together.
Walking over to Knucklehead, I gave him back the bokken. “If you want to live, you need to listen to what we tell you.” I sighed when I read the stubborn refusal on his face.
Professor eyed me speculatively. “This is not the first time you two have done that,” he said, flatly. “It’s not even the hundredth time. I should have realized you were the one who trained her.” He grinned. “Dimples was closer to the truth than she knew.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he walked away.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I heard him muttering under his breath, “But you’re still no imperial prince.”
At noon, I was getting something to eat in the kitchen between training sessions. Surei came by with the children in tow.
“Yoshi, please come with us.”
We followed her to a bench beside a small stream in the back of the saké house. Next to the bench was an arched wooden bridge over the watercourse. Surei leaned against the rail of the bridge and looked at the children. “It is time we had a serious discussion about where you will live. This time without tantrums. Your mother’s uncle, Governor Abé from Isé, will arrive today or tomorrow.”
Aoi-chan stared fixedly at the ground. “I know you are just giving us nasty stuff to do so we will want to go with him. Why don’t you want us to stay with you?”
Surei sighed. “I give all the girls the same tasks. As a shirabyoushi, you will have to do unpleasant things like flattering idiots, and entertaining people who are not worth your time. You may have to please powerful men in any way you can in order to make enough money to survive or to gain their patronage. If you cannot even handle washing floors and dishes, you’ll never be able to do those other things, either.”
She stepped forward and knelt down, putting her face on the same level as Aoi-chan’s. “I never planned to be a shirabyoushi. But bad things happened that left me no choice. You do have a choice, though. Both your mother and I want something better for you. I understand you don’t want to go with strangers, but Governor Abé is a wonderful man. I knew him when I was a little girl, and he was my favorite uncle. I am sure you will like him too once you get to know him. All I ask is you give him a chance.”
Aoi-chan burst into tears. “But I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, but we will write to each other. Perhaps you can come here for a visit.” Surei smiled. “Who knows, mayhaps I will come visit you sometime.”
Yoshi-kun was watching anxiously. “But I want to be a bushi,” he wailed.
“You will be a bushi,” I answered. “Governor Abé is a powerful man who commands many bushi. He will train you to be a great warrior.”
Anxiously, Yoshi-kun asked, “Will I have to muck out stalls?”
I told him, “A bushi must be able to care for his horse. There are times you will have to muck out your own stalls. Even if you have grooms to do it, you need to know if they did it properly. Above all else, a bushi must follow the commands of his lord.”
Yoshi-kun looked at me. “Do you have a lord? I have never seen you with one. What does he command you to do?”
Ashamed at his question and unable to bear his gaze, I looked away. Finally, I said, “I am a special case. My lord—”
“He has an urgent mission his lord trusted him to accomplish,” Surei broke in smoothly. “It was so important that no one but Yoshi could do it. It is so difficult even he is taking a long time to accomplish it.”
Yoshi-kun looked at me with wide eyes. “Wow.”
Surei looked at the two children. “That is enough for now. I want you to go back to the house and get your best mourning clothes ready. When Governor Abé arrives, I will have Sachiko bring you over.”
After the children had left, I said to Surei, “Thank you for that. I didn’t know how to answer him.”
Surei shrugged. “It’s true. You’re fulfilling your father’s last command.”
Not long after, word passed around the saké house that someone was asking for Surei at the front gate. That was unusual enough to invite comment from the staff. I went to see what was happening.
Governor Abé stood at the gate. He had a modest entourage of several guards and a couple of maidservants. A well-dressed woman who seemed to radiate good humor and a certain matronly aura accompanied him.
Surei came walking up to the gate. She bowed deeply. “Governor Abé, it is a pleasure to have you grace us with your presence.” Turning to Governor Abé’s companion, she said, “This beautiful woman must be your wife.”
Governor Abé gave a small bow in return. “Yes, this is my wife, Mayumi. Even in Isé, we have heard tales of the Spring Palace and its beautiful proprietress, but the stories don’t do it justice.”
Surei smiled in embarrassment. “You flatter me. You must have had a hard trip from Isé. I would be honored if both of you would join me for a bit of refreshment. I will have one of my staff see to your people.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed back into the saké house. Governor Abé and his wife trailed behind. I followed at a discreet distance.
She took them to her office. As I approached, I heard Governor Abé say, “Well, Sureiko, you have done quite well for yourself.”
I slipped into the room. Governor Abé looked up in surprise. “Inspector Minamoto,” he exclaimed. “I heard you were dead! What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story—” I began.
Surei cut me off. “Akiko, Yoshi and I grew up together, Uncle. Akiko and I felt Yoshi would be the best person to investigate her holdings in Isé. We cautioned him to keep his real purpose a secret. Of course, I had no idea you were the governor there.”
His face cleared, and he gave a slight smile. “Ah, you must be the troublemaker who lived next door!” He laughed at my confused expression. “My sister wrote at length about you, your bad habits, and what a pernicious influence you were on Surei and Akiko. Of course, I remember talking to a little girl,” he looked sideways at Surei, “who explained to me, ‘I am not naughty. It is just there are so many rules. How can anyone follow all of them?’ It made me wonder who was a bad influence on whom.” He laughed again. “Of course, my sister never approved of me, either.”
“She was the bad influence,” I said, pointing at Surei. Everyone laughed.
I reminded Governor Abé, “I did tell you no matter what you had heard, the truth of the Scarlet Hyacinth was even stranger than the stories.”
He shook his head ruefully. “And you were stating no more than the truth.”
We told him the story of what had happened in Isé and the events surrounding Akiko’s death. He was by turns amazed, amused, and appalled.
When we finished, Governor Abé said, “So, when you told District Magistrate Taira you had known the Scarlet Hyacinth for years…”
“It was the absolute truth,” I finished. “Of course, I had only seen her as ‘the Scarlet Hyacinth’ for one day before I left for Isé.”
“And you actually stole the Hyacinth Emblem you gave Magistrate Taira?” Mayumi said, laughing.
Abashed, I explained, “I didn’t actually mean to take it. I was just looking at it, and I accidentally dropped it into my robe.”
Governor Abé joined his wife’s laughter.
Surei was not amused. “It’s not funny. Yoshi put me in an awkward position when that pompous idiot showed up and started showing the pin around. It took a lot of work on my part to keep everything from coming out into the open at that point.” She gave me a dirty look. “And all without any warning, though Yoshi had been here for days before the District Magistrate showed up.”
Governor Abé wiped his tears of merriment from his face. “I am sure it was difficult, but you have no idea how good it is to hear Magistrate Taira made an ass of himself. He is a continual thorn in my side, always looking for new ways to benefit himself at the expense of others.”
Surei stood suddenly. “That reminds me. Please excuse me for a moment. I will be right back.” She returned carrying a small scroll, which she handed to Governor Abé. “You might find this interesting. Magistrate Taira was preparing to present this to the Minbushou.”
Governor Abé opened it. As he read, all traces of merriment and good humor disappeared from his face, leaving it hard and cold. He might like a good joke, but there was a core of granite under that surface affability, and now we were seeing the real man. I thought again that he was not someone I would want to cross.
He finished reading and closed the scroll. “That was interesting. When I next see Magistrate Taira, we will need to discuss some of these claims and charges.” I shivered at his tone of voice.
He handed the scroll to Mayumi, who skimmed it, her expression growing sterner by the moment.
She looked at her husband. “It would be problematic for us to kill him outright,” she said, “District Magistrate Taira is a distant cousin of mine, and his supporters are both numerous and powerful.” She thought for a moment, then her expression cleared, and she gave a small smile. “He loves his lavish lifestyle and owes many people money. I wonder what would happen if word got around of his disgrace here in the capital and how much money he lost? The people he owes money will be swarming around him like flies around a rotting corpse.”
“An apt analogy,” Governor Abé observed.
He nodded his head as he considered the idea. “Yes, I think that would serve our purposes nicely.”
Mayumi gave an insincere smile. “It would be beneath the dignity of a provincial governor to spread rumors like that. Let me handle it.”
Governor Abé grinned.
Surei, the perfect hostess, had dropped her courtly mannerisms when she saw Mayumi’s much more casual manner. Now, however, she had a baffled look on her face as she looked between Governor Abé and Mayumi. Mayumi didn’t fit her preconceived notions of a provincial official’s wife.
Surei stood suddenly, putting her hand to her mouth. “What kind of a hostess am I? I promised you refreshments.”
Governor Abé said, “No, that isn’t—” but Surei had already moved and signaled one of the girls through the door.
“Tell Cook we have a two very important visitors. We need some refreshments.” The girl scampered off.
Surei sat down and said, “In all the rush, I have neglected to thank you for agreeing to adopt the children.”
Governor Abé looked grave. “It was the least I could do. They will bring joy to our house.” With a sly sideways look at his wife, he added, “Maybe they will keep my wife too busy to pester me. Our children are grown and now she has nothing to do.”
She playfully hit him on the shoulder.
He looked at Surei. “We are a bit puzzled as to why you would want to send them to live with us in Isé, though. Aren’t you afraid that staying in the provinces will affect their prospects? Are things that bad here?”
Surei sighed. “Yes, I fear there will be fighting here soon, but that is not the reason.”
She gave Governor Abé a serious look. “Much of the country’s wealth has already migrated from the capital to the provinces. You, of all people, should know most of the real power is concentrated in the hands of you and the other zuryou, the local provincial governors. How long will you and your peers allow the nobles in the capital to pretend to run things?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think there is much future in Kyoto. Had Akiko lived, I was going to try and persuade her to leave.”
Governor Abé looked at Surei in surprise. “I am astonished at your insight—your political instincts are very sharp.” He gave a short barking laugh. “I wish your father’s had been half that good.” He sighed. “Your father had no interest in politics, all he cared about was his Chinese books. I was stunned when I heard they had convicted him of treason. What happened?”
Surei shrugged. “As you know, he was an instructor at the Imperial University. When discussing Confucian governmental philosophy in the abstract, he taught the Mandate of Heaven demanded a virtuous ruler, and if the ruler was not virtuous, it was the duty of the people to oppose him.”
The governor winced. “What prompted him to do that?”
“He was just trying to be thorough in his coverage of the Confucian political thought. Since Confucius’ disciple Mencius said it, Father felt he had to teach it.”
Governor Abé shook his head. “Of course, it never occurred to your father that it would be better not to teach something like that because of the possibility someone in power might take it badly.”
Surei gave a harsh laugh. “You remember Father. Even if it had occurred to him, he still would have taught it because of his honor and his stiff-necked belief in ‘truth’.” She shook her head. “Still, he had done the same thing many times before. I have often wondered—why did they decide to take note of it that time?”
Governor Abé shrugged. “One never can tell what will upset those in power. Still, a punishment of death was almost unheard of for something like that. I would have thought a demotion would have been enough.”
“Yes,” Surei responded softly. “You would assume that. Several years ago, while spending some time with Senior Retired Emperor Toba, I inquired in a roundabout way about Father, without revealing my true identity to the retired emperor. His answers were vague. It had something to do with the predictions of one of the onmyouji. This onmyouji claimed my father would bring about tremendous turmoil.”
Mayumi snorted. “The capital and its politics. An innocent man can stumble into a pit of serpents completely unawares.”
Several girls arrived with food and set up trays and dishes for us.
After they had left, Governor Abé continued, “Not only would I have helped your father, but if you had contacted me, I would have been happy to take you in.” He waved his hand broadly to indicate the Spring Palace. “All of this is nice, but I am sure it cost you dearly.”
Surei blushed, the first time I had seen her do so in a long time. “I don’t know … that is, well, thank you for that. You don’t know how much it means to me. But I had no idea where you had gone when you left the city.”
In a more businesslike voice, she said, “I have a house next door. The children are staying there, and I would be honored if you would use it while you are here in Kyoto. It will be more convenient than anywhere else and will allow you and the children an opportunity to get to know each other before you head back to Isé.”
There was a soft knock at the door, then a voice said, “Hyacinth-sama?”
Surei stood. “Ah, there are the children.” She went to the door and admitted Sachiko and her two charges.
Surei knelt down next to the children. “Yoshi-kun, Aoi-chan, this is Governor Abé and his wife Mayumi-san from Isé. Governor Abé is your mother’s and my uncle. Our mothers were his sisters.”
Mayumi stood up and walked over to the children, gathering both of them into her arms in a hug. “Hello, children. We were so sorry to hear about your mother. But we are delighted to meet you.”
Aoi-chan glanced at Surei then looked at Mayumi. “Thank you, ma’am. We are pleased to meet you, too.”
Yoshi-kun said nothing. He was too busy eyeing Governor Abé’s tachi.