The death of Noguchi Mototane, Elder Grandma’s missing grandson, was a death that now weighed on Kaze’s conscience. Kaze had killed numerous men, but he had never, to his mind, murdered one.
Noguchi Mototane had been on a legal vendetta and had the right to kill Hishigawa. Kaze had prevented the execution of that right and in so doing had disturbed something he considered proper and just. He felt that he had been tricked into committing the murder by the merchant’s assertion that Mototane was a bandit chief. Kaze knew that if he had understood the circumstances of Mototane’s grievance against Hishigawa, Kaze would have simply stood to one side and let him kill the merchant.
Kaze’s murder of Mototane had disrupted the harmony that was the linchpin of his existence and philosophy of life. Now he understood why his katana had broken in the fight. It was a sign from heaven that his actions against Mototane were unjust-a sign Kaze had chosen to ignore. His wa was disturbed, and he had both remorse for his actions and anger at the merchant who had fooled him into taking those actions.
Kaze fell to his knees. With both hands in front of him on the ground, he bowed until his forehead touched the earth. “Please forgive me, Mototane-san. I’m sorry I killed you. I know it was wrong and that it makes me a murderer. Please forgive me.” Kaze aimed his remarks at the spirit of the dead Mototane, but Nagatoki also heard the ronin’s confession. The young man stared at the repentant ronin.
“You killed Mototane?” Nagatoki said in shock.
“Nani? What?” Elder Grandma had returned to the two, with Sadakatsu at her heels. She had halted at the sight of the ronin humbling himself and her grandson’s words now reached incredulous ears.
Kaze shifted his position to face Elder Grandma. “I just realized that I killed Mototane. It was within minutes of meeting Hishigawa, when he was being attacked by bandits on the Tokaido Road. Mototane must have been shadowing Hishigawa, looking for his chance.
“He had attacked Hishigawa once before, when the merchant was going to Kamakura, but he couldn’t kill Hishigawa. On the Tokaido, Mototane attacked right after some bandits had, and Hishigawa told me that Mototane was the head of the bandits. I had killed him in a duel. Hishigawa told me I had killed a man named Ishibashi, but I now know it was Mototane. Talking to Nagatoki, I understand that the sword I threw into the bay was Sakuran and that it was owned by your grandson. That sword is now asleep in Sagami Bay. I threw it there to appease the spirit of the man I killed. I am truly sorry for murdering Mototane.”
Elder Grandma strode up to the still-bowed Kaze. In her sash, she had a katana, just like a man. She withdrew her blade and grasped its handle with both hands. Kaze made no move to defend himself or get away.
“You have murdered my grandson. Now I will murder you.” Elder Grandma drew her blade back.
Sadakatsu fell to his knees and said, “Elder Grandma, if you are going to kill the samurai, please kill me first.”
“What?” Elder Grandma said, startled. “Why?”
“As a protest. I want to die as a protest.”
“What are you talking about, you ridiculous old fool?” Elder Grandma chastised.
“I have served the Noguchi my entire life,” Sadakatsu explained. “I have always been proud to be a servant in the employ of the Noguchi, just as my father and his father before him served your family. The Noguchi show proper samurai honor and frugality. They also exhibit proper bushido, the way of the warrior. They have never been, to my knowledge, unjust. If you kill this samurai, then you will be unjust, and I want my death to protest this injustice.”
“Have you gone senile? What is unfair about dispatching Mototane’s murderer into the void?”
“His act was murder, but at the time he thought he was defending an innocent merchant on the highway. How many men would put themselves at risk in similar circumstances? I know that this samurai does things to help the weak that most others will not. He is now being honest with you, and I can tell he has sincere remorse. He took Mototane’s sword, which was a valuable one, and flung it into Sagami Bay to try to ease Mototane’s spirit.
“He said Mototane died in a duel. That meant that Mototane had an equal chance to kill or be killed. It was Mototane’s karma to die, which is something that brings me great sadness. It would also bring me greater sadness if the Noguchi were dishonored by unfairly killing this samurai.”
Elder Grandma was nonplussed and stared at her servant as if she had never seen him before. Usually Sadakatsu stayed silent and did what he was told. She couldn’t imagine what spirit had gotten into the thin servant that caused him to spout such words.
Her grandson, Nagatoki, came to her and also fell to his knees. He said, “Sadakatsu is right. If you kill this samurai, you will be killing the wrong man. Hishigawa is the man who tricked Matsuyama-san into killing Mototane. It is Hishigawa who is responsible for his death. Hishigawa is now dead, killed by your own hand. If you are going to kill the samurai, then kill me, too, for I could not stand the dishonor of such an act.”
Elder Grandma stepped back, looking at the three men kneeling or bowing on the dirt before her. Her sword drooped and, for the first time, she was uncertain about what was right. She suddenly looked and felt as old as she really was.
Finally, she said, “All right, the samurai lives. Our bargain was for him to tell me what happened to Mototane. He has done so, although his news is something totally unexpected.” Noticing that the three men had not moved, she said, “Get up.” Then, with a touch of her old authority creeping back into her voice, she said, “Get up!”
Kaze did as he was told and looked deeply into the face of the old woman. The challenge to her authority seemed to affect her. Her lined face, once the picture of martial determination, now looked tired. Her hair, once a helmet of steel, was now a bundle of gray strands. Her posture, once as straight-spined as that of any general, was now round-shouldered and sagging. Kaze marveled at how the mind controls the body, but he was not prepared to offer sympathy to Elder Grandma yet. In her life, she must have known many disappointments and challenges. She had now just had both, with the news of her grandson Mototane’s death and the rebellion of her little ragtag force. But this woman was resilient, and over the many years she had lived, she had never allowed life or its events to defeat her. She would be back to full vigor soon.
As soon as Kaze thought this, he saw Elder Grandma straighten visibly. “Since you’ve told me about Mototane, I will tell you about the cloth,” she said to Kaze, as if the threat of death and the subsequent rebellion had not just occurred. Kaze marveled at her strength and was reminded that women are truly frightening. No man could recover as quickly.
“That piece of cloth was used to pack gifts that Ando brought when Hishigawa was trying to court Yuchan. I don’t know its origin, but I do know its source. It comes from Hishigawa. How he got it, I don’t know. It is something you can no longer ask him.”
Now it was Kaze’s turn to sag. “I know how he came by that cloth,” Kaze said. “He told me about his recent business dealings. At the time, I didn’t realize that the young girls he talked about brokering included the daughter of my Lady.”
Elder Grandma gave a nod, and the palanquin porters hoisted their load. Yuchan was so light, it was if the palanquin were empty. She looked out from the palanquin, a living skeleton. Kaze knew that they’d stop at an inn after they left Kamakura and Yuchan would be able to take a decent bath and put on one of Elder Grandma’s kimonos. The dirt of captivity could be washed from her, but she would never regain her beauty or her innocence.
She looked out from the palanquin and said just two words to Kaze. “Thank you.” That, and the tears in her eyes, were enough.