Firefly Page 7

  The invitation was flung at me casually, but I was only too aware of the honor he was doing me. I glanced at my chick, and it stirred in its sleep, peeping softly. What would it feel like if it awoke and found I was gone? I shook my head.

  “Thank you, but I think I had better stay with the chick. I’ll take my bath in the morning after I’ve got him settled under his hen.”

  “Suit yourself.” Isamu turned on his heel and left without a backward glance at either me or my new pet.

  I slept with the eagle snuggled at my side in his nest.

  The next day, I sent an astonished servant to bring me a nesting box with the biggest, broodiest hen he could find. The man obviously thought I had run mad, but he did as he was told all the same. I put my chick in the nesting box and held my breath as I lowered the hen on top of it. The eagle was already nearly half the size of the hen, but neither seemed to worry greatly. There was a moment’s silence as the hen settled, and then the chick’s head popped out from beneath her and regarded me gravely. The hen clucked and fanned her wing over him, and I closed my eyes with relief.

  Almost, I was persuaded that Isamu had forgotten our trophy. I saw nothing of him for days. When I went to look for him, his apartments were empty. I mentioned his absence casually to Emiko, and she shrugged.

  “Oh, he’s gone off to enjoy himself in Edo. Says he’s tired of the sticks and wants to see some life in the Floating World. He’ll be back as soon as he finds a courtesan skilled enough to wear him out.”

  I wasn’t as disappointed as I had expected at the news. My eagle chick—who I had named Soru—sky—was thriving. He was now nearly as big as his foster mother, and his infant down had begun to give way to real feathers. He was very tame and liked nothing better than to perch on my shoulder and peck at my hair. I loved him, and I would be sorry to see him go to be trained to hunt at Father’s command. He would, of course, have hunted for his own food in the wild. But to be told to kill for sport, that was different.

  And yet, when Isamu finally lounged in my doorway and demanded to know how our bird was doing, I was delighted to show him off. I held out my arm to Soru, and he immediately hop-skipped up my arm to his favorite perch on my shoulder. Isamu’s eyes were wide in astonishment.

  “You’ve done well with him. He’s beginning to look like an eagle.”

  “And how do you know he’s male, brother?” I smiled. “I’ve looked and looked and I can’t tell.”

  “Of course he is,” Isamu said smugly. “How could he be anything else? Come with me. Father’s home and I want to present his gift to him.”

  Even though Isamu kept a stone face, I could see he was simmering with excitement. Soru clung to my shoulder as we walked the corridors, uttering little cries of interest as he ducked his head up and down, watching everything.

  I became increasingly nervous as we approached Father’s apartments. I had never been inside before. Even Emiko was rarely summoned here. Other women entered more often. Father occasionally had a courtesan brought in for him to enjoy. When he entertained, geisha came here to sing and dance and entrance his guests with their wit. I had seen the geisha often, as I peered at them from my window, and sighed at their lovely grace. When I was a little girl, I had thought I would like to be a geisha. I had confided my desires to Emiko, and she had howled with laughter.

  “You? You’re far too tall and gawky. And sullen. Geisha are supposed to be beautiful and graceful and so witty they can make any man feel as if he is the equal of the shogun himself. And anyway, what nonsense! Whoever heard of a samurai lady wanting to be a riverbed beggar, which is all geisha are for all their airs and graces.”

  And that was that. Next time a quartet of geisha came to entertain Father’s friends, I turned my face away from them and told myself they were only riverbed beggars.

  “Give me the eagle.” Lost in my thoughts, I had not realized we had reached the door to Father’s apartment. Isamu tapped politely on the screen frame and waited. When Father did not answer, he called out. “Father, it is Isamu. I have something that will interest you greatly. A present.”

  Still, Father did not reply. Soru remained perched on my shoulder. Becoming impatient quickly, Isamu clicked his fingers, and I reached up and took hold of Soru carefully, handing him to Isamu as our father’s voice finally instructed us—him—to enter.

  “Gently, Soru,” I whispered. “I am here. Do not worry.”

  Isamu glared at me scornfully. He was holding Soru all wrong. Instead of allowing him to perch on his wrist, which the eagle might have tolerated, he had wrapped his fingers around the bird’s legs. Soru opened his beak in a wide gape and then sank it into Isamu’s hand. I kept my head dutifully bowed as we walked forward, but even then, I could see the blood dripping from the deep gash in Isamu’s hand.

  “My son. It is good to see you.” Isamu had stopped, so I drew to a halt behind him. Even though Father sounded in a good mood, I kept my eyes carefully downcast, fastened on the tatami, as I made a deep bow. I stayed crouched, waiting for Father to tell me to stand, but he did not. I felt both stupid and humble, bent as I was, and wondered suddenly if Father was leaving me like that on purpose to humiliate me. The idea gave me courage and I straightened, ignoring the consequences.

  I glanced at Father from lowered eyes and understood at once that I had been wrong. Father had eyes for nothing at all except Isamu and Soru. I was invisible to him.

  “Isamu, what do you have there?”

  Poor Soru was struggling and fighting for his freedom. I could see he had dug his talons deeply into Isamu’s palm, and he was biting constantly at the back of his hand with his sharp beak. I felt my pet’s distress; I was not worried about Isamu, he could look after himself.

  “A golden eagle chick, Father.” Isamu held himself erect, refusing to acknowledge the pain Soru was inflicting on him. “He will make the finest hunting bird in Japan. He is my present to you.”

  Isamu bowed and made to hand Soru to Father. Seeing his chance, Soru stopped tearing at his hand and in the pause between Isamu loosening his grip and Father taking him, he was in the air instantly, flying around the room, trying to alight on the beams and—unable to get a purchase there—screeching in distress. I felt his pain. Forgetting I was in Father’s presence, I stepped forward and held my arm out straight, making the tkk-tkk-tkk noises I used to alert Soru to my presence. My relief was beyond reckoning when the eagle chick immediately flew down and landed on my shoulder, rubbing his head affectionately against the side of my face.

  I stayed very still, my attention focused on my eagle. Isamu spoke quickly.

  “Keiko-san has had charge of the eagle since I fought his mother for him, high in the mountains.”

  I blinked. Isamu had fought the mother bird for her chick? Had we not been in Father’s presence, I would have spoken. Even as it was, I almost did, but Isamu cut me off.

  “She is very good with animals. They seem to like her. Even Matsuo chooses to spend time with her when he is not with me.”

  “Keiko, you may approach me.” Father spoke my name as if he had to think about it first. I moved carefully, concentrating on achieving at least a semblance of grace. When I was close enough, Father put out his finger to Soru. My eagle bit him, hard. I was amazed when Father laughed.

  “The bird is both courageous and willing to take instruction. He will make a wonderful hunter.” Father offered his finger again, and to my surprise this time, Soru ignored it, walking a few steps away from him instead. “Only the shogun himself has a golden eagle for a hunting bird, and I have been told that his eagle isn’t Japanese. He had one imported from the Kingdom of Chosun. This bird will be the talk of Edo province, if not the whole of Honshu Island. Isamu, my son, I thank you for this wonderful gift. Keiko.” My world stopped as I waited for the words of praise I had longed to hear since the day I first understood my lowly position in our household. “Keiko, you should thank the gods for the affinity they have given you with animals.”

&
nbsp; That was it? After I had risked my life to get him his new pet? I should be grateful for the fact that animals recognized a kindred spirit in me? And Isamu? How dare he stand there beaming, relishing Father’s praise? It was me! I was the one who defeated the mother eagle and stole her chick. Me! Not Isamu! Why did I stand with my eyes lowered modestly, smirking with pleasure at the fact that my father had deigned to notice me?

  “Give me the bird. Come,” he commanded. I held out my arm wordlessly, and Soru hopped down to my wrist and climbed on to his outstretched arm. I felt betrayed. As Father turned away, he threw a scrap of praise at me from over his shoulder. “You have done well, daughter.” My heart raced; he had called me his daughter at last! “I am not ungrateful for your care of Isamu’s trophy. Emiko will be married soon. Perhaps it is time we looked for a husband for you as well.”

  And that was it. Father sat down with Soru balanced on his wrist. We had obviously been dismissed. I wanted to cry, but did not. Nothing on earth or in the heavens would have made me show Isamu how devastated I was.

  “I told you Father would be delighted.” Isamu rubbed his hands together happily and grimaced as the blood from his wounds stained both palms.

  “He was delighted with you, anyway,” I said sourly.

  Isamu stared at me with eyebrows arched in apparent astonishment. “Surely you didn’t expect me to tell him that you came with me to capture the bird? He wouldn’t have believed me. And if he had, he would have rejected it immediately. He would probably have told me to take it straight back to the mother’s nest.”

  “But she would kill it!” I exclaimed.

  Isamu shrugged. “Probably. But Father could never have accepted it, knowing a mere girl had captured it. If he knew, it would have been less than nothing in his eyes. As it is, he will gain great face from possessing a native hunting eagle. And we will also bask in his pleasure, I promise you.”

  “He said he might find a husband for me,” I said slowly.

  “He did, and if he said that, he meant it. Don’t worry.” In his exuberance, Isamu buffeted my back with his knuckles. “It needn’t get in the way of your training to become onna-bugeisha. I don’t suppose Father will want to spend too much on your dowry, so the only husband he’ll be able to find for you will probably be an elderly widower. As long as you please your husband on the futon and stay out of his way the rest of the time, he won’t care what you do with yourself.”

  He almost skipped down the corridor in front of me. I walked slowly, dragging my feet.

  An elderly widower? I was supposed to be pleased about that? I was barely sixteen and had never even traveled as far as Edo. And now I was going to be given to an old man as his bride?

  And Isamu thought it needn’t get in the way of my hopes of becoming truly onna-bugeisha? If the thought hadn’t been so ironically amusing, I would have cried.

  Nine

  Your hand curls around

  A seashell. Take care! It may

  Not be quite empty

  Even the ordinarily self-centered Emiko noticed my gloomy mood.

  “What are you so upset about?” she asked. Before I could speak, she answered her own question. “You should be content. Your belly is full. You have a roof over your head. You don’t have to work hard for a living like peasants do. Isamu says Father has finally decided to find a husband for you. What else could you want? You should give thanks to the gods for your good fortune.” She picked up her hand mirror and lifted her chin, turning her head from side to side and smoothing her neck. “I’ve heard that the shogun’s wives have mirrors made of glass that reflect their faces perfectly. I would like one of those. I will ask Soji to buy me one as a token of his fidelity.” She tossed the copper mirror to one side as if it bored her.

  “I’m sure he will if you ask him,” I replied politely. I meant it. Soji was the most generous of men. He never came to the house without a present for Emiko, and quite often a trinket for me. Oh, how I loved that man! “You are very fortunate to have him for your betrothed, Emiko. Isamu thinks Father will have to find an old man to be my husband. Probably a widower who has outlived a couple of wives already.”

  My sister looked at me as if I had bitten her. Her beautifully arched eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “So? A husband is a husband, isn’t he? He’ll be from a good family and rich. You can be sure Father will see to that. If you’re lucky, you’ll kill him off in no time, and then you’ll be a free woman of good birth and good fortune. Some people have all the luck.” I stared at her in disbelief, but she was in full flow and didn’t even notice. “But what about me? You really think I’m fortunate to have Soji? Don’t you mean it the other way around? It’s Soji who is lucky to have me as his bride.” She frowned and her forehead creased into lines. I thought it was a good job she no longer had the mirror in her hand or she would have been furious with her own image. “If our marriage hadn’t been arranged when we were both children, I would have persuaded Father to find me a different husband, I can tell you.”

  “But Soji is such a nice man!” I protested. “He’s generous and kind. And he obviously worships you. And he’s handsome as well. And rich. What else could you want in a husband?”

  “Almost everything,” Emiko said simply. I goggled at her in disbelief. She sighed deeply and drew her legs up to her breasts, putting her arms around her knees. She rested her head on them and suddenly, she was no longer my terrifying elder sister, but merely a young girl. “Oh, I know he’s rich. Even richer than Father. He’ll buy me anything I want. But he can’t buy my heart, Keiko! I want a man, that’s what I want. Not a weakling like Soji. I need a husband who will tell me what to do. A husband who rules his own house. One who I’m going to have to work to keep at my side and away from the courtesans. Once we’re married, I just know that Soji will do what I tell him.” She was silent for a moment and I saw she was blushing. I was so shocked I was speechless. “I don’t desire him. Not at all. When he walks into the room, I shudder at the idea that I’m going to share his futon for the rest of my life. And he’s a young man. He could live longer than me out of spite! I know he’s going to be a faithful husband. I don’t think he’s even got enough go in him to take a concubine, so I’ll be stuck with him at my side night after night. And of course, I’ll have to let him make love to me or there’ll be no children.” She brightened suddenly. “Perhaps that’s the answer. If I refuse to let him have me, I can’t have children and he’ll put me aside.”

  I was beyond astonished. Emiko must genuinely be desperate to talk to me like this! And besides that, I could hardly believe what she was saying. To me, Soji was perfect. How could she not be happy to marry him? I took a deep breath and forced myself to concentrate.

  “But if he did put you aside, what would happen to you?” I asked cautiously. “Father wouldn’t have you back here, you know that. Soji would say that you were barren. He could never admit that you wouldn’t let him have you; the loss of face would be too much for him. He’d be a laughing stock if it came out. You would have no money, nowhere to go. You would never have a chance of getting another husband, you know that.”

  “I don’t care.” Emiko’s lower lip jutted petulantly. “I hate him. I can’t stand it when he touches me. When he looks at me with those loving puppy dog eyes, I want to hit him just to see him look shocked.”

  “Perhaps if you told Father how you feel, he might talk to Soji? End the betrothal and find you a husband you liked better?” I blushed. I wasn’t thinking of Emiko’s welfare at all—just my own. Might it be possible that if she refused Soji, he would turn to me instead? The thought of it made my toes curl; my beloved Soji-san for a husband instead of an old man I didn’t even know. Ah, but that would surely be heaven!

  “I have done.” Emiko sounded suddenly weary. “I tried to explain to Father how I felt, and he just looked at me as if I was raving. He told me I would marry Soji or I would no longer be his daughter.”

  I had no doubt that Emiko was making
a perfect tragedy out of nothing. “You know perfectly well that Father didn’t really mean it. You’re his favorite. You could always wind him in your obi.” I spoke without bitterness; it was the simple truth. Father doted on his lovely daughter, and she was his pet. Anything she wanted, she got.

  “You think so?” Emiko’s voice was so shaky, I stared at her in surprise. Tears were running down her cheeks. They must have stung, as she screwed her eyes up and her lovely face was suddenly plain. Overcome with surprise—and not a little guilt at my own hopes—I rushed to her side and put my arms around her shoulders.

  “Emiko! No! Don’t cry, please. I’m sure Father will think about what you said and agree to find you another husband. Once he gets over his temper, everything will be fine.”

  Emiko buried her head in my shoulder and spoke without looking at me. I had to listen carefully to make out her muffled words.

  “You’re wrong, Keiko. I thought the same. I left it for a while and then asked him again. I’d thought about it very carefully. I rehearsed what I was going to say over and over again. I needn’t have bothered. I barely got past the first few words.” She paused and I could wait no longer.

  “Go on. What happened?”

  “Father didn’t even seem angry. That was almost the worst thing. He just put his hand up to stop me talking and turned a stone face to me. He had that damned eagle Isamu got for him on his shoulder, and he didn’t stop stroking it all the time he was talking to me.

  “‘The first time you spoke to me of this, I was gentle with you,’ he said. ‘I thought it was just some passing nonsense you had got into your head. I thought I had made it clear then that you would marry the husband that I had selected for you. I see now that I was far too lenient with you. You will not speak of this again, Emiko. You will marry Soji-san. You will marry him willingly, with a smile on your lips. You will be a good, dutiful wife to him for however long the gods spare you on this earth. You will accept his desires and bear him many male children. My grandsons.’”