Concubine's Tattoo Read Online Free PDF

did anything for myself."

Reiko had counted on the festivities to take her mind off her homesickness and fears. The death of the shogun's concubine and the possibility of an epidemic seemed trivial in comparison with these. How could she, who had never left her father's house for more than a few days, live here, forever, with a man who was a stranger to her? Although Sano's absence delayed the scary plunge into the unknown future, Reiko had nothing to do but worry.

The nurse clucked her tongue."Well, you could change your clothes. No use hanging about in bridal kimono, now that the wedding is over."

With O-sugi's assistance, off came the white robe and red under-kimono; on went an expensive kimono from Reiko's trousseau, printed with burgundy maple leaves on a background of brown woodgrain, yet dull and somber compared to her customary gay, bright maiden's clothing. Its sleeves reached only to her hips-unlike the floor-length ones she had worn until today-suitable for a married woman. O-sugi pinned Reiko's long hair atop her head in a new, mature style. As Reiko stood before the mirror, watching the trappings of her youth disappear and her reflection age, her unhappiness deepened.

Was she doomed to a secluded existence within this house, a mere vessel for her husband's children, a slave to his authority? Must all her dreams die on the first day of her adult life?

Reiko's unusual girlhood had disinclined her for marriage. She was Magistrate Ueda's only child; her mother had died when she was a baby, and he had never married again. He could have ignored his daughter, consigning her to the complete care of servants, as other men in his situation might have, but Magistrate Ueda had valued Reiko as all that remained of the beloved wife he'd lost. Her intelligence had secured his affection.

At age four, she would toddle into his study and peer at the reports he wrote."What does this say?" she would ask, pointing to one character after another.

Once the magistrate taught her a word, she never forgot. Soon she could read simple sentences. She still remembered the joy of discovering that each character had its own meaning, and that a column of them expressed an idea. Abandoning her dolls, she spent hours inking her own words on large sheets of paper. Magistrate Ueda had encouraged Reiko's interest. He'd employed tutors to instruct her in reading, calligraphy, history, mathematics, philosophy, and the Chinese classics: subjects that a son would have been taught. When he'd found his six-year-old daughter wielding his sword against an imaginary foe, he'd hired martial arts masters to instruct her in kenjutsu and unarmed combat.

"A samurai woman must know how to defend herself in case of war," Magistrate Ueda had told the two sensei, who'd been reluctant to teach a girl.

Reiko recalled their disdainful treatment of her, and the lessons intended to dissuade her from this manly pursuit. They'd brought bigger, stronger boys to serve as her opponents in practice matches. But Reiko's proud spirit refused to break. Hair disheveled, white uniform stained with sweat and blood, she'd battered at her opponent with her wooden sword until he went down under a storm of blows. She'd wrestled to the floor a boy twice her size. Her reward was the respect she saw in the teachers' eyes-and the real, steel swords her father had given her, replacing each pair with longer ones every year as she grew. She loved stories of historical battles, envisioning herself as the great warriors Minamoto Yoritomo or Tokugawa Ieyasu. Reiko's playmates were the sons of her father's retainers; she scorned other girls as weak, frivolous creatures. She was sure that, as her father's only child, she would one day inherit his position as magistrate of Edo, and she must be ready.

Reality had soon cured her of this notion."Girls don't become magistrates when they grow up," scoffed her teachers and friends."They marry, raise children, and serve their husbands."

And Reiko