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Authors: Kei Swanson
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to talk with her. He could think of many more amusing uses for a woman, and they had nothing to do with talk.
I am more of a man than my lord is.
He replaced his swords into his girdle and, smiling with confidence, left the shrine.
** *
Aderyn spent a free solitary hour sitting in her room, looking out over the water broken by large rocks far offshore. The same rocks that had ruptured the ship, they reminded her of the day past. It seemed so remote, a horrible dream from which she had awakened at last.
Why was she alive?
The more she thought about the outcome of the battle, the more it made sense. She could not say she understood God’s plan for her, but this had to be His design. God, in all His wisdom, knew she alone had a chance to survive in the Japans. She was the only one who could speak the language, the only one willing to tolerate the Eastern lifestyle or with any desire to learn more about the people, the only one with common sense enough not to get hysterical if something was different.
She never understood her mother and sisters’ acquiescence to remain, first, on the ship then, later, in the small house near the wharf. Forbidden to go ashore or leave the yard to explore Macao, she broke the prohibitions whenever she had the chance. She lived for the days when her father would take her to the docks with him or to the warehouses along the quays; and she drank in the strangeness, devouring the sights and sounds as she did the treats Benito would buy her.
Even though it shamed her, Aderyn could not grieve for her family. Did shock prevent it? Perhaps it was too soon to mourn. Maybe her sisters had been right. When she shut them out of her world, they claimed she was heartless and cruel.
As the youngest, she had been the object of their contempt. They thought her love of books foolish, her desire to leave home and mingle with the Asians utterly stupid. Her mother, unhappy aboard ship and miserable ashore, made all their lives wretched. Aderyn loved her father, but as she grew older and life bore down on him, she recalled his harshness more than his gentleness.
She remembered one conversation they’d had when she was fourteen. They sat at a table in the dark corner of a Portuguese drinking house, a number of mugs of rich red wine having loosened his tongue. The story of the first time he and Kathryn met rolled out of his mouth; her mother’s version was not too different.
What fascinated--and scared--her was that he likened her to the young Kathryn. Would she grow to be such a fishwife? On that very evening, she began dreading marriage.
Her life here would give her a chance at a happier existence. She would no longer have to fear turning into her mother, since there was not much chance of her finding a man to marry. Too, there was the possibility she would not live to see tomorrow.
Sachi returned to her room and brought the news Lord Sanematsu wished to see her. A million questions sprang into her mind as Sachi fixed a ribbon on her braid. She declined the cosmetics the woman offered--her hands trembled so that trying to apply any face paint would end in sloppy disaster. Let him see the unadorned her and be content. Was she a piece of goods to be perfected for a buyer to appraise?
She wore the red uchiki Sachi had dressed her in that morning. Try as she might, though, she could not convince the material to lie over her curves, which caused the line of the garment to be misshapen.
Aderyn made her long way to the audience chamber. What should she feel in her position? She should hate Sanematsu for killing her family, but she had overheard him say that part had been Matsumoto’s idea. He had ordered her life spared. Was she rationalizing? All she knew was that this strange man controlled her fate.
What if she were to become his concubine? What would she do if her freedom were lost and her dignity cast aside? She set her mouth and pushed her shoulders back. He would not force her into
I am more of a man than my lord is.
He replaced his swords into his girdle and, smiling with confidence, left the shrine.
** *
Aderyn spent a free solitary hour sitting in her room, looking out over the water broken by large rocks far offshore. The same rocks that had ruptured the ship, they reminded her of the day past. It seemed so remote, a horrible dream from which she had awakened at last.
Why was she alive?
The more she thought about the outcome of the battle, the more it made sense. She could not say she understood God’s plan for her, but this had to be His design. God, in all His wisdom, knew she alone had a chance to survive in the Japans. She was the only one who could speak the language, the only one willing to tolerate the Eastern lifestyle or with any desire to learn more about the people, the only one with common sense enough not to get hysterical if something was different.
She never understood her mother and sisters’ acquiescence to remain, first, on the ship then, later, in the small house near the wharf. Forbidden to go ashore or leave the yard to explore Macao, she broke the prohibitions whenever she had the chance. She lived for the days when her father would take her to the docks with him or to the warehouses along the quays; and she drank in the strangeness, devouring the sights and sounds as she did the treats Benito would buy her.
Even though it shamed her, Aderyn could not grieve for her family. Did shock prevent it? Perhaps it was too soon to mourn. Maybe her sisters had been right. When she shut them out of her world, they claimed she was heartless and cruel.
As the youngest, she had been the object of their contempt. They thought her love of books foolish, her desire to leave home and mingle with the Asians utterly stupid. Her mother, unhappy aboard ship and miserable ashore, made all their lives wretched. Aderyn loved her father, but as she grew older and life bore down on him, she recalled his harshness more than his gentleness.
She remembered one conversation they’d had when she was fourteen. They sat at a table in the dark corner of a Portuguese drinking house, a number of mugs of rich red wine having loosened his tongue. The story of the first time he and Kathryn met rolled out of his mouth; her mother’s version was not too different.
What fascinated--and scared--her was that he likened her to the young Kathryn. Would she grow to be such a fishwife? On that very evening, she began dreading marriage.
Her life here would give her a chance at a happier existence. She would no longer have to fear turning into her mother, since there was not much chance of her finding a man to marry. Too, there was the possibility she would not live to see tomorrow.
Sachi returned to her room and brought the news Lord Sanematsu wished to see her. A million questions sprang into her mind as Sachi fixed a ribbon on her braid. She declined the cosmetics the woman offered--her hands trembled so that trying to apply any face paint would end in sloppy disaster. Let him see the unadorned her and be content. Was she a piece of goods to be perfected for a buyer to appraise?
She wore the red uchiki Sachi had dressed her in that morning. Try as she might, though, she could not convince the material to lie over her curves, which caused the line of the garment to be misshapen.
Aderyn made her long way to the audience chamber. What should she feel in her position? She should hate Sanematsu for killing her family, but she had overheard him say that part had been Matsumoto’s idea. He had ordered her life spared. Was she rationalizing? All she knew was that this strange man controlled her fate.
What if she were to become his concubine? What would she do if her freedom were lost and her dignity cast aside? She set her mouth and pushed her shoulders back. He would not force her into
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