• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 2408 0

was concerned Blackthorne shared his bed with Chimmoko, or one of the maids in the inn. It was no one’s business but his. So only a woman could betray her, and if she was betrayed, her betrayer and all the women of the party would die an even more vulgar and more lingering death than hers for so disgusting a betrayal. Then too, if she wished, before they reached Mishima or Yedo, all knew she could have them put to death at her whim for the slightest indiscretion, real or alleged. Mariko was sure Toranaga would not object to a killing. Certainly he would applaud Gyoko’s and, in her private heart, Mariko was sure he would not object even to Kiku’s. Two and a half thousand koku could buy many a courtesan of the First Rank.

So she felt safe from the women. But not from Blackthorne, much as she loved him now. He was not Japanese. He had not been trained from birth to build the inner, impenetrable fences behind which to hide. His face or manner or pride would betray them. She was not afraid for herself. Only for him.

“At long last I know what love means,” she murmured the first night. And because she no longer fought against love’s onslaught but yielded to its irresistibility, her terror for his safety consumed her. “I love thee, so I’m afraid for thee,” she whispered, holding onto him, using Latin, the language of lovers.

“I love thee. Oh, how I love thee.”

“I’ve destroyed thee, my love, by beginning. We’re doomed now. I’ve destroyed thee—that is the truth.”

“No, Mariko, somehow something will happen to make everything right.”

“I should never have begun. The fault is mine.”

“Do not worry, I beg thee. Karma is karma.”

At length she pretended to be persuaded and melted into his arms. But she was sure he would be his own nemesis. For herself she was not afraid.

The nights were joyous. Tender and each one better than before. The days were easy for her, difficult for him. He was constantly on guard, determined for her sake not to make a mistake. “There will be no mistake,” she said while they were riding together, safely apart from the rest, now keeping up a pretense of absolute confidence after her lapse of the first night. “Thou art strong. Thou art samurai and there will be no mistake.”

“And when we get to Yedo?”

“Let Yedo take care of Yedo. I love thee.”

“Yes. I love thee too.”

“Then why so sad?”

“Not sad, Lady. Just that silence is painful. I wish to shout my love from the mountain tops.”

They delighted in their privacy and their certainty they were still safe from prying eyes.

“What will happen to them, Gyoko-san?” Kiku asked softly in their palanquin on the first day of the journey.

“Disaster, Kiku-san. There’s no hope for their future. He hides it well, but she … ! Her adoration shouts from her face. Look at her! Like a young girl! Oh, how foolish she is!”

“But oh, how beautiful, neh? How lucky to be so fulfilled, neh?”

“Yes, but even so I wouldn’t wish their deaths on anyone.”

“What will Yoshinaka do when he discovers them?” Kiku asked.

“Perhaps he won’t. I pray he won’t. Men are such fools and so stupid. They can’t see the simplest things about women, thanks be to Buddha, bless his name. Let’s pray they’re not discovered until we’ve gone about our business in Yedo. Let’s pray we’re not held responsible. Oh very yes! And this afternoon when we stop, let’s find the nearest shrine and I’ll light ten incense sticks as a god-favor. By all gods I’ll even endow a temple to all gods with three koku yearly for ten years if we escape and if I get my money.”

“But they’re so beautiful together, neh? I’ve never seen a woman blossom so.”

“Yes, but she’ll wither like a broken camellia when she’s accused before Buntaro-san. Their karma is their karma and there’s nothing we can do about them. Or about Lord Toranaga—or even Omi-san. Don’t cry, child.”

“Poor Omi-san.”

Omi had overtaken them on the third day. He had stayed at their inn, and after the evening meal he had spoken privately to Kiku, asking her formally to join him for all eternity.

“Willingly, Omi-san, willingly,” she had answered at once, allowing herself