The Samurai's Garden Read online

  Hiro digested this news. He would be asked to return to his former life. Not only would he be asked to think and act as a warrior, but he would be expected to help others in this peaceful place to become warriors as well. Everything he had tried to escape was returning to him. Slowly he turned toward the stream. His steps were measured as he approached the water. Finally, he looked up at Hanako.

  "Nakamura-san may be right," he told her. "If the villagers do nothing but wait, they will be like the fish in this stream, going about their business without a thought to the danger that approaches them. The ronin will descend upon them, and they will be helpless—" He drew his short sword and plunged it into the water, raising it again with two wriggling fish speared through. "—as helpless as these creatures."

  Chapter Eight

  The summer had brought a good harvest. Hiro felt a sense of accomplishment each time he finished cutting a section of barley, holding a kama in each hand. The sickles cut neatly through the stalks as his arms swung to and fro, just as if participating in a military training exercise. Left, right, left, right. Both arms formed smooth arcs across his body, as he stepped in time to an imaginary march, pressing him onward through the row.

  A scream pierced the air, turning his blood to ice. Rough male laughter accompanied additional screams. He ran toward the sound, gripping the kama tightly. Hanako was not squeamish, nor was she one to needlessly raise her voice in alarm. She had been working at the opposite end of her lands, picking beans to take to the market. Help me reach her in time, he prayed.

  He entered the clearing around the hut to find her fighting for her life. Three men surrounded her. Two held swords, waving them menacingly about her. Hanako, armed with nothing more than a hoe, held them off with the stance of a samurai woman. The third man stood back, watching the scene with an indulgent smirk.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginjiro entering the clearing from the opposite direction. Their gazes connected, and they both charged forward. Raising his voice in a fierce battle cry, Hiro focused on the man nearest him. The man turned toward him, surprised at the intrusion, but quickly settled his features in determination and raised his sword.

  The kama Hiro held were somewhat like the kusarigama, a deadly fighting tool he had used in battle. Unlike the kusarigama, his tools didn't have a chain and weighted ball, which would have allowed him to snag his opponent's sword. In order to cause injury, Hiro would have to attack from within the sword's striking distance.

  The other man was young, and the first swing of his sword betrayed his inexperience. Hiro easily deflected the slashing blade. Time after time, he raised his kata simply to block the sword. He knew he had to wait for the right moment to strike.

  Eventually, the sword's motions became more erratic, giving Hiro the opening he needed. The younger man swung a wide arc across his body, leaving his torso exposed. Hiro moved in, one kama slicing off the man's sword arm, the other ripping into his body.

  Not stopping to look back at him, he charged toward the second man, who was giving Ginjiro a challenge.

  The nobleman, seeing his retainers were overpowered, retreated, but Hanako, still gripping her hoe, stopped him with a quick blow to his head. The man's eyes glazed, and he crumpled to the ground.

  ****

  "You are not harmed anywhere?" Hanako fretted as she checked Hiro for wounds. The constable had come with his men and had taken the three intruders away. The man Hiro fought was dead, and the other would be fortunate to survive the night. The third man was a merchant from Sapporo who had seen Hanako in the local market and had decided to add her to his stable of concubines. Taking her for a simple farm woman, he'd decided she would be a welcome addition to his collection. He hadn't counted on the woman having two field hands who had been part of an elite fighting force. He now awaited sentencing in the village jail.

  Hiro still burned with rage at the callous way the nobleman had tried to take Hanako. As a member of the samurai class, he had embraced a strict code of ethics. Justice, Bravery, Benevolence, Politeness, Veracity, Honor, and Loyalty were the seven codes of the Bushido, or "Way of the Warrior". Taking a woman against her will went against the majority of these codes. The men who had come today deserved the harshest punishment available.

  "Are you certain you are all right?" Hanako asked again.

  "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm just hungry."

  "Yes, of course. I will prepare your meal," she said as she scurried toward the cook stove. He noticed her hands shook as she measured the rice, poured water into the pot, and attempted to light the fire. The flame would not start for her, and as she tried again and again, she got more agitated. Finally he got up and stood behind her. He reached around her and put his hand on hers.

  "You are too distressed from today's events. I can do this."

  She dropped the flint and covered her eyes. Great sobs racked her body, and she tried to step away from him, but he gathered her in his arms and rocked her gently.

  "You are safe, my little flower. I would not let anyone harm you."

  "B-but they could have killed you! They had swords and you and Ginjiro had nothing but farm tools!"

  "I could not let them take my future wife."

  "You must have been a fierce warrior."

  He smiled against her hair. "When I needed to be, I was."

  Hiro basked in the warmth of their embrace. He had made the right choice for a wife, he thought. They would make a comfortable life together.

  She pushed herself away. Her brows were knit together, her lips pursed in a frown.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  She took her time answering. "The men who came today — I wonder if they were part of the group who came last fall."

  "I suppose it's possible. They seemed quite young, though. They didn't fight like trained samurai."

  "The ronin — the ones who came last fall — they took the same oath as you, didn't they?"

  Hiro froze at the question. His lips pressed into a thin line, his brows dipped, and he fixed her with an icy stare. When he spoke again, his voice was low and menacing.

  "Do you mean to say you consider me in the same league as them? Has nothing I have said or done convinced you that you can trust me with your life? Is that why you will not consent to marry me?"

  He advanced again, and she stepped back against the wall. Her eyes widened, and Hiro wondered if he'd frightened her. But the eyes shone not with fear, but excitement. She reached out and laid a hand on his chest, and his heart danced at the contact.

  "I do feel safe with you. In my head, I know you are not like those men. I have never known such comfort as you have given me these last months. But I am leery of binding my life to another. The last time, I was not allowed a choice, and the result was… unfortunate."

  He could feel his anger drain from him, and she continued. "The other men in my life, my father and my husband, were not strong men. And yet they controlled my life. You are so strong I fear your power over me would be much greater. And that frightens me. It's not your physical power — I know you would not hurt me physically — but you might perhaps expect me to be someone I am not."

  "Do you fear my power as much now as when I first came here?"

  She took her time answering. "I don't think so." She stepped around him and paced, absently noticing this house allowed her to pace farther than the tiny hut she had lived in most of her life. "Actually, I don't think I ever feared you. If you had wanted to hurt me and take my lands by force, you could've done so long ago. It's just that if I marry you, you would legally own all I have — little as it is — and I would again have nothing."

  She watched him as he considered her answer. Would he dismiss her concerns? Her belongings were nothing compared to many, but they were hard won. If they were to marry, and then he tired of her, she would need to start over again. How could she not want to hold on to what little she had now?

  Finally, Hiro answered. "It is true I would be considered the owner of your l
ands and possessions. But all I have would also be yours."

  "And all of it could be taken away if you decide we don't suit each other."

  "Yes, the laws don't protect women. I have seen wives and concubines tossed aside by unscrupulous, wealthy men." He caressed her cheek then lifted her chin, waiting for her to match his gaze with his. "I would not do that to the woman to whom I pledge my life. But I know it would be a lot to ask of you to believe that. What if we were to find a way to legally set your holdings separate from mine? Perhaps we could will them to our sons or daughters. Would that satisfy your concerns?"

  Again, she was struck speechless by his generosity. He had actually listened to her concerns and offered a compromise far beyond what any woman could expect.

  "Could — could this really be done?" she asked.

  Hiro shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "But I can find out. For now, I think we should take a break from the hot sun. Let's sit by the river and catch some fish for our supper."

  The ordeal left Hanako too drained to argue. She followed Hiro to the stream.

  ****

  Hanako didn't notice the silent message Hiro sent to Ginjiro, or the answering nod. Ginjiro would spread the news of the troublemakers to neighboring farms.

  Before leaving on his errand, Ginjiro watched his friend and Hanako stroll toward the stream. How fortunate Hiro would be if Hanako agreed to become his wife. Ginjiro had always thought he would marry and raise a few fine sons, but having passed his fortieth year, he doubted he could find someone to marry.

  The last few years had been difficult for Ginjiro. When the Meiji government had abolished the samurai class, he had been left at a loss. He had no family to return to, and his very way of life no longer existed. He had never wanted to be anything other than a samurai, and though his size and skill had not allowed him to rise above the lowest levels of the class, he had reveled in the honor of serving his daimyo.

  But now he was on his own. His daimyo had not been able to adjust to the "new ways" and was unable to retain him in any capacity, so he had spent the past five years looking for work. He had heard rumors about fighting opportunities in the north and had traveled a long way, but had been rejected because of his age and size. It had been the final straw. If Hiro had not found him in the woods, he would have ended his life.

  Now, things were starting to look better. Thanks to Hiro and Hanako, he had a purpose and dreamed of owning his own land. And now his dreams included someone who could make his life complete. He sighed, thinking of Hanako's beautiful neighbor. She was the embodiment of grace and serenity. How wonderful it would be to have the right to protect her, to care for her.

  But she was beyond his reach.

  Ginjiro scolded himself for daydreaming, reminding himself of his errand. He had a job to do, and useless yearnings would do him no good.

  ****

  The offending missive hit the flames, spraying sparks so high they nearly burned him. Hideyori paced, cursing the sender. How dare Akamatsu rescind his support? How in the world will I finance this military takeover if I don't have sponsors? He thought he had talked Togashi and Akamatsu into joining his coalition. It was only a matter of time before the emperor was defeated and the country could return to its former glory.

  It was true his army hadn't increased much in size, but he hadn't been able to find enough soldiers to form a decent army. Masao Akira was a good soldier, but he lacked proper respect for his superiors. He argued and spoke up too much. But at least he kept the rest of the troops in line.

  If only he been able to keep his army from the old days. There had been some good warriors. There was one who had really stood out. What was his name? Tanaka. Hiromasa Tanaka. Strong and loyal, he was a true warrior. But he'd had that bothersome streak of honor. He'd left after that mess with his friend, but where had he gone? If I could find Tanaka-san, perhaps he could be persuaded to join my "New Army." Hopefully, the man hadn't joined the emperor's forces. Yes, Tanaka-san would definitely whip this rag-tag group into shape.

  The confident stride of approaching footsteps broke him out of his reverie. Masao strode into the tent without asking permission and spoke without bowing. Hideyori's eyes narrowed at such rudeness.

  "We are out of food. We need money so we can go into the village and buy supplies."

  "That will have to wait. Our funds haven't arrived. Go to the farms and get food."

  "The farmers have next to nothing. How can they share with us? We took practically everything they had last time we came through. You promised us our situation was temporary. When are we going to be paid?"

  "How dare you speak to me this way? I could have you killed for your insolence!"

  Masao didn't flinch. "Who would you get to do the killing? I outrank them. They would answer to me." He leaned closer. "They're certainly not afraid of you."

  "As soon as the money arrives, you will get your share."

  Togashi had been weak and sided with the Emperor. And now Akamatsu had abandoned him. Bah, I can do this without them. There were others. Other benefactors with more men, more money. He just needed to convince them.

  "The money is coming. In the meantime, we will need to go to the north. I have heard there are more resources, more farmlands. We will find food there. For now, send the men into the woods to hunt."

  His second in command cast a doubting frown, but he bowed and left.

  Hideyori's feet traced a path back and forth in front of the fire. It was time to make more plans.

  Chapter Nine

  The sounds of clanging metal and grunting men distracted Hanako as she tended her livestock, settling them for the night. Hiro and Ginjiro led a nightly training session in the wide meadow separating her farm from the Nakamura property. Torches mounted on stakes illuminated the men as they worked through their exercises. The widow's sons, along with twenty other villagers, listened intently as Hiro gave his instructions.

  "Always hold your blade toward the opponent. Don't leave yourself vulnerable to his sword," he directed.

  It had been three weeks since the widow's visit. As promised, her sons had approached Hiro with their request, and he had readily agreed. Each night for the last two weeks, a ragtag group of men, some with ancient swords handed down for generations, some with nothing more than their farm tools, had appeared in the field for drill and instruction. At first it had seemed an impossible task. These were peaceful farmers and simple merchants. How could they ever be taught to fight against trained warriors?

  Rumors of the ronin's activities fueled the men's motivation. The renegade band was reported to have assaulted a town not more than ten days south of here. Time was of the essence. Hiro instructed the men to take precautions to safeguard their homes and families as well. An alarm system was set up. Each family was given a supply of flares with instructions to set them off if and when they spotted the intruders. Sato-san had supplied the flares, greatly raising him in the villagers' esteem.

  When the training first began, several wives appeared with their husbands. Some actually participated in the training exercises themselves, but most were content to watch from the sidelines, some holding their infants and toddlers. Gradually, all but a few stopped coming along, leaving the men to learn the fighting while they tended to their homes.

  Hanako knew she should participate more readily in the exercises. After all, this was her property they were defending. Last fall she'd been helpless to stop them. The image of her husband cowering under the furniture still left a knot in her stomach. Would she be as ineffective if put to the test again?

  She decided to listen carefully to the instruction, and practice alone in the privacy of the woods, rather than in front of the other villagers. Perhaps later she could join the others.

  Seeing that all the animals were settled for the evening, she picked up the handle to an old hoe, and holding it out in front of her, tried to mimic the movements the group performed with Hiro. Carefully, she sliced a diagonal arc in front of herse
lf. The motion didn't seem quite like the technique Hiro had demonstrated, so she tried again, raising the hoe above her head and bringing it down and across her body with her hands ending near her left knee. She prepared to try the motion again, but gasped when her back connected with a solid wall of muscle. A deep, melodic voice rumbled from the wall at a point above her head.

  "Don't bring your weapon down so far. Remember, this leaves your body open to the opponent's attack."

  Hanako's heart stopped at the unexpected contact. Before she could react, two strong arms came around her. Hiro's right hand enveloped both of hers as they gripped the hoe, and the other came to rest on her left side, holding her close to him. Without thinking, she leaned back against his massive chest. Time stood still as she sank into his warmth.

  She barely registered his words as he gently guided her through the drill, keeping the weapon in front of her as it sliced through the air. Using a sturdy willow as an imaginary foe, he positioned her so that her right arm extended toward the tree and the right side of her body faced it.

  "Turn your body away from your opponent. This gives him a smaller target and protects your torso from his sword." Her arms and legs continued the drill, but her senses were aware only of her body pressing against his. Her back warmed from his solid presence, and her side tingled where his hand pressed gently to guide her. What would it be like to have those strong hands caressing her, guiding her through a different dance, another ritual?

  She let herself dream as his arms and body cradled her. They went through the motions, his right hand and arm directing the improvised weapon, his left hand moving her body. It was amazing how their bodies fit together, how their limbs moved in perfect synchronization. His hands switched as he moved the improvised weapon to her other hand and turned her body so her left side faced the imaginary opponent. Hanako knew the movements had been designed for fighting, but the two of them were engaged in a much different, though equally intense, reality.