Lord Iesada. As your mother-in-law I am aghast that you could even think of going against my will. You insist on retaining your quaint title and provincial hairstyle and way of dressing. That is all very well. But when we are forced to meet, you must behave with appropriate respect.’
Sachi quivered with horror, feeling the princess’s humiliation as if it were her own. Princess Kazu said no more but shuffled back and knelt on the floor, while the Retired One took her place on the cushion.
II
The bells at the end of the corridor jangled. The thin, tinny sound was still reverberating when four drumbeats echoed one after the other from the ramparts of the castle, marking the hour. The elders and ushers, the ladies-in-waiting and grizzled lady priests prostrated themselves on each side of the door.
Sachi too was on her knees, staring at the tatami. She heard the screech of iron bolts being drawn through their hafts and the groan of the great door sliding open. There was a long silence followed by the muffled clank of steel. Among the babble of voices was the unfamiliar timbre of a male voice, the first Sachi had heard for nearly four years. Along with the patter of female feet and the swish of silk came the sound of soft-shod feet moving across the tatami mats with a jaunty male tread and the scent of an exotic and complex perfume. Time passed with painful slowness. The voice and the scent grew nearer. The chatter of compliments, of talking and laughter grew closer. Little by little the firm male footsteps advanced. Then they stopped, right in front of her.
‘And this is she?’ enquired the voice. The words sounded strange and archaic. Sachi had never before heard the formal terminology that only the shogun could use and it was with an effort that she worked out what he had said.
‘Look up, child,’ hissed Lady Tsuguko, the princess’s chief lady-in-waiting, who was kneeling right behind her. ‘Greet His Majesty!’
Sachi raised her head just enough to see a pair of white silk stockings. Then for a second she glanced up. She found herself looking straight into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. Quickly she lowered her face, so hot with confusion that the tips of her ears were burning.
There was a long silence.
‘What is her name?’ asked the voice.
A murmur like the wind rustling a field of summer grasses rippled along the corridor. Lady Tsuguko laughed, a silvery tinkle of laughter.
‘Sire, this humble child is Yuri, of the house of Sugi, bannermen to the daimyo of Ogaki,’ she said, using Sachi’s official name. ‘She is under my protection.’
Sachi was still trembling long after the footsteps and the scent had faded away and she had heard the doors to the shogun’s private apartments slide open and shut again.
In silence she followed the ladies-in-waiting back to the princess’s suite, her thoughts whirling. She had broken the cardinal rule. She had raised her face to a being even higher than the elders, or Lady Tsuguko or the Retired One – to His Majesty the shogun, who was closer to a god than a man. Princess Kazu, of course, was of a higher rank even than he. But that was different. Sachi belonged to the princess. The princess had chosen her and kept her close to her. Had she misunderstood? Surely Lady Tsuguko had not intended her to commit such a breach of protocol?
Stranger still, His Majesty was young. She had always assumed that someone so powerful and all-knowing that he could never be seen by ordinary mortals must be old, gruff and fearsome
And then there was Fuyu. Why had she been there, and in such showy finery? It was all too confusing. Padding along onecorridor after another with bird-like steps, her shoulders modestly rounded as she had been taught, Sachi felt suffocated by all the rules and protocol. If only she could throw off the swathes of fabric and run, skip and jump as she used to. She had to talk to Taki, her friend. She understood everything; she would know the
Sachi quivered with horror, feeling the princess’s humiliation as if it were her own. Princess Kazu said no more but shuffled back and knelt on the floor, while the Retired One took her place on the cushion.
II
The bells at the end of the corridor jangled. The thin, tinny sound was still reverberating when four drumbeats echoed one after the other from the ramparts of the castle, marking the hour. The elders and ushers, the ladies-in-waiting and grizzled lady priests prostrated themselves on each side of the door.
Sachi too was on her knees, staring at the tatami. She heard the screech of iron bolts being drawn through their hafts and the groan of the great door sliding open. There was a long silence followed by the muffled clank of steel. Among the babble of voices was the unfamiliar timbre of a male voice, the first Sachi had heard for nearly four years. Along with the patter of female feet and the swish of silk came the sound of soft-shod feet moving across the tatami mats with a jaunty male tread and the scent of an exotic and complex perfume. Time passed with painful slowness. The voice and the scent grew nearer. The chatter of compliments, of talking and laughter grew closer. Little by little the firm male footsteps advanced. Then they stopped, right in front of her.
‘And this is she?’ enquired the voice. The words sounded strange and archaic. Sachi had never before heard the formal terminology that only the shogun could use and it was with an effort that she worked out what he had said.
‘Look up, child,’ hissed Lady Tsuguko, the princess’s chief lady-in-waiting, who was kneeling right behind her. ‘Greet His Majesty!’
Sachi raised her head just enough to see a pair of white silk stockings. Then for a second she glanced up. She found herself looking straight into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. Quickly she lowered her face, so hot with confusion that the tips of her ears were burning.
There was a long silence.
‘What is her name?’ asked the voice.
A murmur like the wind rustling a field of summer grasses rippled along the corridor. Lady Tsuguko laughed, a silvery tinkle of laughter.
‘Sire, this humble child is Yuri, of the house of Sugi, bannermen to the daimyo of Ogaki,’ she said, using Sachi’s official name. ‘She is under my protection.’
Sachi was still trembling long after the footsteps and the scent had faded away and she had heard the doors to the shogun’s private apartments slide open and shut again.
In silence she followed the ladies-in-waiting back to the princess’s suite, her thoughts whirling. She had broken the cardinal rule. She had raised her face to a being even higher than the elders, or Lady Tsuguko or the Retired One – to His Majesty the shogun, who was closer to a god than a man. Princess Kazu, of course, was of a higher rank even than he. But that was different. Sachi belonged to the princess. The princess had chosen her and kept her close to her. Had she misunderstood? Surely Lady Tsuguko had not intended her to commit such a breach of protocol?
Stranger still, His Majesty was young. She had always assumed that someone so powerful and all-knowing that he could never be seen by ordinary mortals must be old, gruff and fearsome
And then there was Fuyu. Why had she been there, and in such showy finery? It was all too confusing. Padding along onecorridor after another with bird-like steps, her shoulders modestly rounded as she had been taught, Sachi felt suffocated by all the rules and protocol. If only she could throw off the swathes of fabric and run, skip and jump as she used to. She had to talk to Taki, her friend. She understood everything; she would know the
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