mood. Always with his accusing eyes on Tomoe. They had no chance to talk privately, however. Tomoe decided it would be better to speak tomorrow, when the memory wasnât so fresh.
This is not meant to be,
she would tell him.
â
Later, when Tomoe and the boys were already in bed and her parents talked softly by the lamp light, there was a knock at the door. Kaneto slid open the door. âWada! What brings you here at this hour?â Kaneto whispered, and Wada said something indecipherable, and her father bowed before closing the door.
âWhat is it?â Kanehira said, sitting up. Tomoe looked, too. Kaneto held up a gift, wrapped in a bright red square of silk and a small note.
âA note from Wada-chanâs mother.
We have been too busy and ill to pick these, but Yoshinaka helped us out today
,â Kaneto read aloud.
âPlease accept these with our gratitude, as always.â
Chizuru unwrapped the silk knots and held a handful of cherries aloft. She smiled. âOh my! Theyâre beautiful. I had forgotten they had an orchard. Yoshinaka, what a nice thing that was to do.â
Yoshinaka nodded modestly, but stole a glance at Tomoe.
Impulsively, she got out from her futon and ran across the room to give him a quick peck on the cheek. âVery nice,â she whispered.
Yoshinakaâs grin broadened. âNever forget. I will do anything for you, Tomoe.â
EIGHT
Tomoe Gozen
K ISO -F UKUSHIMA T O WN
S HINANO P ROVINCE
H ONSHU , J APAN
Summer 1170
T omoe and her mother peeled lotus root outside. They were cooking a dish for a wedding feastâone of the Wada daughters had gotten married to a low-ranking official from Miyako. Quickly she worked the knife over the surface of the smooth light-brown skin. Their two curly-tailed Akitas sniffed at the peels and left them alone. âPicky beasts,â Tomoe said fondly. âYou should take whatever you can get.â
âThe dogs are too smart,â Chizuru said, wiping her hands on her work kimono. âTomoe, you are quick.â She indicated the half-dozen roots Tomoe had already peeled to her own two. âGood girl. I knew you would beat me one day.â
Tomoe patted at her slightly damp forehead, her hair secured by a blue wrap. âItâs much easier to wield a sword,â she countered. âTo kill someone you only have to make a few sweeping gestures.â
Earlier in the year, Tomoe had unearthed one of Kanetoâs old short swords, a
tachi
, so she could spar with Yoshinaka and Kanehira. Women were supposed to fight only with the
naginata
, but she watched how easily Yoshinaka drew out his
tachi
while he was on horseback. How nimble that sword was, unattached to a cumbersome pole. She wanted to try it. A
tachi
needed no retainer to carry it. She would be more mobile. More ready for any surprise.
And more powerful. A sword like Yoshinakaâs was said to be able to slice through seven corpses with one blow. One side was sharp, the other defended like a shield. With a
tachi
, she could attack as well as defend. A bow and arrow could do only so much, she realized. This would work well for close combat.
She and Yoshinaka sparred every afternoon. âDonât go easy on me!â she always warned Yoshinaka. She suspected he was holding back.
âI never do,â he responded each time, always with a ready grin. It was her goal to make Yoshinaka huff and puff and perspire, and generally she was successful.
One evening, Yoshinaka and Kanehira both attacked her with their swords. They wore no armor for these practice events, trusting they were good enough to avoid real damage. She deflected Kanehira easily, disarming him, before she cornered Yoshinaka and cut through his outer jacket.
âYou drew blood.â Tomoeâs fatherâs voice was behind her. She whirled to see him.
He pointed to Yoshinaka, who had a small cut on his cheek. Yoshinaka grinned. âIt doesnât hurt,
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