Jade Palace Vendetta

CHAPTER 10

Hishigawa walked along the familiar road to his villa. He often went down this road, either on foot or riding in a palanquin, so he knew each of the bends in the road and all of the trees growing alongside it. As he drew near to his home, his heart quickened. Yuchan. Yuchan. Yuchan. The name of his wife was like a mantra, driving him to see her. He forgot about the hardship and danger of the past few days and his mind became focused on one thing and one thing only: Yuchan. His steps quickened and it was as if he drew increasing strength from his growing proximity to her.

He didn’t see the strange ronin stop at the top of the hill to look down on Kamakura. He didn’t notice the surprised looks on the faces of the samurai escort he had hired as his quickening pace allowed him to take the lead of the group and eventually to start to pull ahead of them. The escorts looked at each other, unsure whether they should keep up with the man who was paying them or stay with the pushcart that seemed so important to him. The pushcart, which had its rails covered with fresh mud by the time the escort samurai saw it, seemed perfectly ordinary to them, but the merchant had made a great fuss about them guarding it.

Even before they reached Kamakura, Kaze had noticed a strange transformation in Hishigawa. After they reached the barrier, Hishigawa had seemed to grow in confidence and stature. A strange metamorphosis had started to occur, made all the stranger by its quick unfolding.

Hishigawa was no longer a weak and bent merchant cowering from bandits along the road. His spine straightened, his step lengthened, and his face slowly took on haughty lines, as if he was not some humble merchant but, in fact, some noble or high official. His assertiveness and power grew with each step toward his home.

Kaze had often seen men adopt the surroundings they found themselves in, especially in the merchant class. One moment they would appear weak and obsequious, fawning over a rich customer. Other times they’d be hard and cruel, punishing some miscreant clerk or an unfortunate servant who might have drawn their ire. Every creature feels more secure in its own den or home, but to Kaze, who had no home, it was interesting to watch how this merchant reacted as their journey neared an end.

Kaze wondered if Hishigawa was drawing his strength simply because they were near his space of power or because he was nearing his wife, for whom Hishigawa held an obvious affection.

The road they were on soon led to a gentle valley. There, in the valley, was a large villa surrounded by a high, whitewashed wall. Kaze looked at the villa in surprise, wondering how much wealth the merchant had managed to acquire to be able to afford a house as large and grand as any wellborn noble’s.

In the distance, Kaze could see a guard lounging near the front gate, something unusual for a merchant’s house. Upon seeing Hishigawa, the guard snapped to attention and called out to the house. Kaze saw several servants rushing out upon the guard’s cry. They stood in a line as Hishigawa made his way through the front gate and into the compound. Then they waited for the rest of the party to arrive.

Hishigawa had rushed so far ahead that it was several minutes before Kaze arrived with the pushcart and the rest of the party. Three women and the gate guard were still standing in line when they arrived. Two of the women were pretty young maids, looking at the ground as was proper when guests arrived, but the third was a sturdy, middle-aged woman in a gray kimono. She was watching the approaching party with hard eyes.

“I am Ando,” the woman said, addressing herself to the lead samurai in the group. “I am the Master’s head of household.”

This declaration was a surprise to Kaze. Normally Hishigawa’s mother would be the head of household and, if she were gone, then Hishigawa’s wife would serve this function. Kaze didn’t know Ando’s relationship to Hishigawa, but her position was obviously unusual.

The samurai Ando had addressed looked to Kaze, and Ando realized she had addressed the wrong man. Smoothly covering up her mistake, she gave a low bow and turned to Kaze. “Welcome to my Master’s home,” she said.

“I am Matsuyama Kaze,” he replied. “I accompanied your Master for part of the journey from Kyoto to here.”

Ando bowed again. “Thank you for bringing my Master home safely. If you’ll excuse him, he will be with you shortly. It is my Master’s custom to always visit his wife immediately upon returning from a trip.”

Kaze nodded. He felt his understanding of Hishigawa’s character unfolding the way a lotus unfolds in the cool of the evening. It was hard to picture a colorless merchant being infused with such passion for a new bride, but the evidence was before him, in Hishigawa’s actions.

A man could have a passion for a fine blade or a beautiful horse or even for some aesthetic thing like the tea ceremony and display it openly. But openly displaying such passion for one’s wife was unprecedented in Kaze’s experience. One could have passion for another being, but it was to be held close to your heart, not flaunted before strangers.

“Please come in and let us serve you some refreshments. You must be fatigued after such a long journey.” Ando’s words were proper and gracious, but her manner was not. Her shoulders were tense and her hands were clenched. She looked at Kaze with small eyes that reminded him of a ferret scanning for prey. It was plain that she was annoyed to have an unexpected guest, especially a ronin.

Ando turned to one of the maids, and Kaze saw the young girl flinch, as if she expected to be struck. “Hurry! Get some tea and something to eat for the samurai while they wait for the Master.”

The girl rushed off, and a bowing Ando motioned for the group to enter Hishigawa’s estate.

When Kaze walked through the gate, the household staff took over the gold cart, leading the cart, Goro, and Hanzo to the side of the villa. “Please make sure the two peasants get refreshments, too,” Kaze said to Ando. He could see the woman tighten her jaw again, and Kaze realized that the Hishigawa house was not one that normally gave peasants hospitality, but Ando said, “Of course, Samurai-san.”

The courtyard between the gate and the front of Hishigawa’s mansion was filled with white sand. Strips of wood outlined rectangles in the sand; the rectangles were filled with small stones, forming a walk-way leading from the gate to the entrance. As the men walked along the path, the stones made a pleasant crunching sound under their feet.

“Your Master’s love for his wife is unusually strong,” Kaze observed.

Ando thought about this remark and pondered her response. Her family had served the Hishigawas for three generations, going back to the time when the Hishigawas were samurai. Hishigawa’s father had given up that position to follow the way of the merchant, abandoning the path of honor for the path of gold. This took the House of Hishigawa and tumbled it, in the eyes of his fellow samurai, from a high position in society to one of the lowest. Despite this change in position, Ando’s family had remained loyal to the Hishigawas. Although this ronin seemed to have been of service, she was unwilling to provide details about her Master’s life and passions. So she said blandly, “My Lord loves his wife very much. Would you like a bath, Samurai-san? My Master may be a while before he can attend to more business.”

The change in subject was a clear signal that Kaze had veered onto a topic the woman was unwilling to expand on. Acting as if he didn’t notice this signal, Kaze simply said, “Of course. A bath would be most welcome.”

The samurai guards were left in a room near the entryway while Kaze was taken into the cool darkness of the house. The paper walls filtered the light, producing serenity and a feeling of coolness even when the weather was hot.

As Kaze penetrated the depths of the house, additional layers of paper filtering made the light darker and darker. Almost all large Japanese houses shared this characteristic. For that reason, decorative objects, such as the designs on the tops of boxes, were often done in mother-of-pearl, silver, and gold. Sometimes these materials formed a design that looked garish in the sunlight, but it was absolutely perfect in the twilight that pervaded the depths of a Japanese home.

To air out the house and provide light, large panels or removable screens simply slid apart, eliminating the barriers between the inside and the outside. Each room in the house was made to a multiple of a standard-size rectangular tatami mat, the size of the rooms being expressed in terms of the number of tatami mats it would take to cover the floor.

Kaze was led to the back of the house, to the bathhouse, where a large wooden ofuro tub was. As he walked to the bathhouse, he noticed two plastered structures in the back of the house. These were the treasure-houses, where things of value were kept safely away from the threat of fire that hung over every Japanese wood and paper house. This was something expected, especially for the house of a merchant, but he also saw something that surprised him.

The back of the estate was much more sizable than he would have thought. He was learning that Hishigawa’s ability to buy material goods was probably on a par with a minor lord rather than a merchant. In this backyard was a small lake and in the center of the lake was an island. On the island was a sizable palace with a green tile roof. The palace was so large that a midlevel samurai would have been happy to have it as his residence. A Chinese-style arched drum bridge connected the island to the rest of the estate. The bridge was in the shape of a perfect half circle, with stairs going up the steep sides of the bridge and an arched wooden causeway spanning the water. A railing lacquered red in the Chinese style added color to the bridge. A guard was standing on the island side.

“What is that?” Kaze asked Ando.

“That’s the Jade Palace,” Ando said, “the home of my master’s wife.”

It was not uncommon for husbands and wives to have separate quarters in the main house. It was less common for a wife to have her own palace to live in.

Kaze said nothing but noted that in some ways Hishigawa’s wife seemed to have a status unlike any wife that Kaze had yet met. She was treated more like the Empress, who had her own wing in the Imperial Palace in Kyoto.

At the bath Kaze relaxed in the steaming hot water. Before he had entered, a pretty, young serving girl scrubbed the dirt off him. Kaze noted that almost all of the female servants he had seen in the house, except Ando, were young and pretty. This was another unusual aspect of Hishigawa’s most unusual household. In most households, there was a mixture of servants, with a range of ages and appearances.

“Have you been in Hishigawa’s household long?” Kaze asked the girl tending the fire that heated the bathwater.

“No, Samurai-san.”

“How did you come to be in service at Hishigawa-san’s house?”

There was a pause. “My parents sold me into the service of this family,” the girl finally said.

This statement seemed to cause the girl so much pain that Kaze didn’t pursue it. Instead he submerged himself in the hot water, letting the tiredness of the journey seep into the surrounding heat. When Kaze had refreshed himself and put on a clean kimono lent to him by Ando, he was called in to meet with Hishigawa.

Kaze walked into the reception room of Hishigawa’s house. It was a large room measuring eighteen mats, similar to the kind of reception room found in the palaces and manors of nobles.

Hishigawa sat at the back of the room on a raised dais. Behind him was a large screen painted on four panels. The picture was of herons stepping their way into an iris pond, all on a gilt background. It was obviously expensive, but Kaze judged it vulgar. It was the kind of art done for newly rich merchants who had not yet developed an eye for the use of color and the mastery of the brush that marked a true artist.

Flanking Hishigawa were two rows of retainers, facing inward, six in each row. Eleven of these retainers were men; Kaze was surprised to note that Ando was the twelfth. Sitting between the rows were the samurai hired at the barrier. The arrangement was impressive and confirmed Hishigawa’s true wealth.

Hishigawa was dressed in a brown kimono with a white bamboo pattern. He sat easily, a man comfortable and assured in familiar surroundings. His elbow rested on a lacquered armrest that sat on the floor like a small piece of furniture. With a practiced eye, Kaze quickly looked over the men in the room. Most were of no consequence, but his eyes lingered on one man.

He was tall and thin, with the shaved pate of a samurai. He sat comfortably, with his hands on his knees. His two swords were impeccably placed, and he was looking back at Kaze with the same studied gaze that Kaze was using on him. Just as two creatures of the same species will always recognize each other, these two men knew from one another’s bearing, sharp eye, and stance that each was a master swordsman.

Kaze approached Hishigawa and sat down by the barrier samurai, giving Hishigawa a shallow bow. A small cloud passed over Hishigawa’s face. It was obvious that he was not satisfied with the depth of the bow. In the comfort of his own house, he was transformed from the pleading merchant Kaze had found on the Tokaido Road to an undeclared noble holding court. Kaze found it interesting that a merchant should be taking on airs simply because he was wealthy.

“This is the samurai I told you about,” Hishigawa said to the assembled group of retainers. He pointed with his chin at Kaze. “This man was not only able to save my life, he was also able to bring me and the gold safely to Kamakura. No thanks to the men assigned to me as bodyguards by my head of guards.”

At this Hishigawa glared at the swordsman who had caught Kaze’s eye. The swordsman looked back at Hishigawa coolly, meeting his glare with a measured stare that was hard and full of power. The two men looked at each other for several seconds, until finally Hishigawa broke away. Glancing downward, he said, “Well, it’s no matter. I’m here. In fact, Matsuyama-san, I would like to introduce you to my head of guards. This is Enomoto-san.” Hishigawa again pointed with his chin, this time to the swordsman.

Kaze looked at Enomoto, pivoting slightly.

“Enomoto Katataka,” the swordsman said.

“Matsuyama Kaze.”

Kaze put his hands on the mat and gave a polite bow. Enomoto returned the bow in exactly the same manner and at exactly the same depth. To the other men in the room it was a formal polite greeting, but to the two men involved it seemed like the punctuation to something else. They had already greeted each other when both took measure as Kaze walked into the room.

“You have already met Ando-san, the head of my household. The rest of these men are my retainers. They work for Enomoto-san or Ando-san.”

Kaze gave a polite bow to all in the room.

“First, there is the payment for the good samurai who escorted me from the barrier.” Hishigawa gave a nod and a man slid forward and placed a paper-wrapped stack of coins before the samurai. Much to Kaze’s disgust, the head of the group scooped up the money as any merchant would and put it in his sleeve. He gave a deep, formal bow of thanks.

“And for you, Matsuyama-san, I promised enough to buy the finest sword in Kamakura.” Hishigawa gave another nod, and the servant slid forward and placed another paper-wrapped stack of coins in front of Kaze. Kaze acted as if they weren’t there, but he did give Hishigawa a thank-you bow.

“Good,” Hishigawa said, “now we have some business to discuss. I want you to become my yojimbo, my bodyguard,” Hishigawa said to Kaze.

“Aren’t you happy with the security I provide you,” Enomoto asked, his face darkening at Hishigawa’s suggestion.

“No. It’s not that,” Hishigawa said quickly. “I simply feel the need for some additional personal protection. There have been attempts on my life lately, and I need someone to protect me.”

Kaze was surprised at Hishigawa’s suggestion and bowed deeply. Hishigawa interpreted this as gratitude and an acknowledgment that Kaze was joining his household. Instead Kaze said, “I appreciate the generous offer to join your household, but I have other duties and tasks I must perform.”

“Duties?” Hishigawa said. “But you are a ronin.”

“Sometimes wandering is a duty, Hishigawa-san.”

Hishigawa looked as if he was going to try to argue with Kaze, but Kaze gave a short bow and stood up.

“Thank you for your hospitality and generosity,” Kaze said. “I would like to stay with you a few days, until I obtain a new sword, but then I must be leaving.” Kaze walked out of the room. He left the money behind.