Read Online The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai by Barbara Lazar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Lazar
Ads: Link
and the release. We beginners used a makiwara , a straw target, which I shot at from a distance that was just the length of my bow. I held my bow flat from my centre. I could always hit the target. Akio said this would help me concentrate on what I was doing, rather than hitting the makiwara .
I excelled with archery after Akio ordered that a special bow be made for me, shorter than the boys’, which I could string for myself, when he said I was ready, with only a little help. The lacquered bow displayed my favourite trees and rabbits. I named it Rabbit-In-A-Tree. My fingers fitted around its grips. My arm’s armour shone bright red and blue, like Akio’s.
As I drilled, I heard Pink Flower challenge samurai to duel. My armour fitted close to my forearms with a two-fingered leather glove to protect my hand. The tanned leather had the distinct odour that pleased me. I did not tell Tashiko about the glove because she considered all death and leather sinful. She avoided the leather-processing areas in the village.
I challenged Uba and other boys in my group to best me in archery. I always lost before I was given Rabbit-In-A-Tree. Afterwards, I beat Uba, most of the boys in my group and many of the older ones. If I did not mention Uba’s name, Tashiko and I celebrated my victories and honour to my family .
I began to beg for a horse, but months passed before Akio and Master Isamu finally gave in. My two samurai argued about how to teach me to ride. Finally, Akio tied me to an old mare. She bore no resemblance to the black demon the priest had ridden the day I had come to the sh ō en .
After only one season, I could stay on the horse for myself. What days they were – to ride high up and see the ground like a bird. From time to time, I wished I could fly to my real home.
Late in my second summer at the sh ō en , I sat on my own lacquered wooden saddle, with mother-of-pearl in the shapes of trees and rabbits, another gift from Akio and Master Isamu. I handled horses mostly without using my hands, guiding them with my legs.
I rode all over the sh ō en , not only around the fields but also around the lake and the ponds and through small streams – too fast for summer mosquitoes. I was careful to avoid the buckwheat fields. Proprietor Chiba loved buckwheat noodles so he would take the switch to anyone who spoiled the buckwheat. Now I thought seldom of escape.
Akio allowed us to hold a tachi , a real sword: grasping the handle, its brown bumpy ray-skin and braided leather strips. My finger traced the tsuba , the iron sword guard with its Taira Clan closed-butterfly design. I squinted at the shining steel blade, blinding me in the brilliant summer sky.
The tachi reminded me of farm tools I had used with Father and my brothers, familiar, comfortable. That brought on homesickness, which pierced me to my spine, like an arrow, grabbed at my throat and caused my chin to quiver. I turned away from the boys. One teasing word might have caused me to spill tears where I could be seen. I would not dishonour myself like that. Uba came after me, but I ran away.
Months after I had begun the bokken training a boy a bit heavier than me lay flat on the ground. I had my first victory! I clutched my weapon above my head, breathing hard, smiling, successful.
‘Kozaishō! I am next.’ I looked up at Uba, who was now taller than me: he had grown a quarter of a shaku in the last two months. The boy who had lost to me called everyone around us to watch. Uba took me in three strokes. Only three! On the ground, I heard laughing and whistling.
I stood up, my left hand clenched into a fist, jaw clamped, and scowled at Uba. I heard Akio ask if I wanted some water. I growled at him. He gathered the hair at the top of my head in one fist and led me off the field to the water jars. I drank and listened. ‘I have something to teach you when the others have finished. You can use your size to an advantage.’
‘How can my size be an advantage?’
I excelled with archery after Akio ordered that a special bow be made for me, shorter than the boys’, which I could string for myself, when he said I was ready, with only a little help. The lacquered bow displayed my favourite trees and rabbits. I named it Rabbit-In-A-Tree. My fingers fitted around its grips. My arm’s armour shone bright red and blue, like Akio’s.
As I drilled, I heard Pink Flower challenge samurai to duel. My armour fitted close to my forearms with a two-fingered leather glove to protect my hand. The tanned leather had the distinct odour that pleased me. I did not tell Tashiko about the glove because she considered all death and leather sinful. She avoided the leather-processing areas in the village.
I challenged Uba and other boys in my group to best me in archery. I always lost before I was given Rabbit-In-A-Tree. Afterwards, I beat Uba, most of the boys in my group and many of the older ones. If I did not mention Uba’s name, Tashiko and I celebrated my victories and honour to my family .
I began to beg for a horse, but months passed before Akio and Master Isamu finally gave in. My two samurai argued about how to teach me to ride. Finally, Akio tied me to an old mare. She bore no resemblance to the black demon the priest had ridden the day I had come to the sh ō en .
After only one season, I could stay on the horse for myself. What days they were – to ride high up and see the ground like a bird. From time to time, I wished I could fly to my real home.
Late in my second summer at the sh ō en , I sat on my own lacquered wooden saddle, with mother-of-pearl in the shapes of trees and rabbits, another gift from Akio and Master Isamu. I handled horses mostly without using my hands, guiding them with my legs.
I rode all over the sh ō en , not only around the fields but also around the lake and the ponds and through small streams – too fast for summer mosquitoes. I was careful to avoid the buckwheat fields. Proprietor Chiba loved buckwheat noodles so he would take the switch to anyone who spoiled the buckwheat. Now I thought seldom of escape.
Akio allowed us to hold a tachi , a real sword: grasping the handle, its brown bumpy ray-skin and braided leather strips. My finger traced the tsuba , the iron sword guard with its Taira Clan closed-butterfly design. I squinted at the shining steel blade, blinding me in the brilliant summer sky.
The tachi reminded me of farm tools I had used with Father and my brothers, familiar, comfortable. That brought on homesickness, which pierced me to my spine, like an arrow, grabbed at my throat and caused my chin to quiver. I turned away from the boys. One teasing word might have caused me to spill tears where I could be seen. I would not dishonour myself like that. Uba came after me, but I ran away.
Months after I had begun the bokken training a boy a bit heavier than me lay flat on the ground. I had my first victory! I clutched my weapon above my head, breathing hard, smiling, successful.
‘Kozaishō! I am next.’ I looked up at Uba, who was now taller than me: he had grown a quarter of a shaku in the last two months. The boy who had lost to me called everyone around us to watch. Uba took me in three strokes. Only three! On the ground, I heard laughing and whistling.
I stood up, my left hand clenched into a fist, jaw clamped, and scowled at Uba. I heard Akio ask if I wanted some water. I growled at him. He gathered the hair at the top of my head in one fist and led me off the field to the water jars. I drank and listened. ‘I have something to teach you when the others have finished. You can use your size to an advantage.’
‘How can my size be an advantage?’
Similar Books
