The Shogun's Daughter by Robert A. Bennet

Author:Robert A. Bennet [Bennet, Robert A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw, epub
Published: 2015-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVIII—The Shadow of Death

When we came out into the portico Satsuma girded on his own sword and, in the face of the hatamoto officials, ordered our swords and dirks to be returned to us. We were in his charge and not yet under sentence. Next he called Yuki, the ronin, before him, and ascertained that the injuries suffered by the brave man from the torture, though fortunately not of a permanent character, disabled him from walking any distance. The Daimio demanded the use of a kago from the hatamotos, and ordered that the injured man should be carried before us. With the kago, the hatamotos fetched the sword and dirk which had been taken from Yuki upon his imprisonment.

Yoritomo and I now entered our norimons, across which the symbolic nets were again flung, and the procession marched slowly out on its way to the nearest Satsuma yashiki. I surmised that the court and the Council of Elders had thought to flatter the Daimio by entrusting him with the charge of the heir and the guest of the Prince of Owari. If so, they had proved their ignorance of his warm friendship for Yoritomo, and must have been both puzzled and chagrined at his courteous bearing towards the self-confessed breakers of the law.

On the other hand, I jumped to the rash conclusion that the great Daimio would interpose himself between us and our enemies, and, if necessary, even defy the court. When we entered one of the lesser Satsuma yashikis, within the official quarter, our gaoler-host could not have welcomed us beneath his roof with greater state and warmer hospitality had we been visiting daimios. Yoritomo, still in mourning, could not be present at entertainments. But I was free to witness the clumsy contests of the Daimio’s huge and bloated wrestlers, with which he sought to amuse me while his cooks prepared a feast in my honor.

After a formal banquet graced by the exquisite dancing of geishas, I was shown to the apartment assigned to our use, much exhilarated by the merriment of the girls and the many thimblefuls of hot sake that they had served me. Though the hour was close upon midnight, I found my friend kneeling beside his silken bedquilts, with his palms clasped in prayerful meditation.

“Mon Dieu! what a long face!” I laughed. “Get up and dance a hornpipe with me, Tomo-bomo! Jig till the lamps tumble! In the words of Perry’s great brother, ‘We have met the enemy, and they are ours!’”

“You do not understand, brother,” he replied, in a tone that brought my dancing feet to a sudden stand. “It would appear that we have escaped torture in our examination. You forget the many tortures inflicted with the death penalty.”

“Death penalty!” I cried, clutching the revolver through the folds of my robe.

“There is only one certain way of escape open—a ball for you; for me hara-kiri,” he murmured.

I stared in bewilderment. “Now? But Satsuma is your friend. He will stand between—”

“He cannot save us. Even he dare not venture to oppose the Shogunate in such a matter.

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