The Peony Lantern Read Online Free PDF Page B

stayed at the back of the group. Isamu matched his pace to mine.
    â€˜How is your family acquainted with my uncle?’ Isamu’s casual tone did not quite conceal his surprise that a girl from a small mountain village was coming to Edo as a companion for his uncle’s wife.
    â€˜We’re not really,’ I confessed. ‘Lord Shimizu visited my parents’ inn for lunch yesterday and . . .’ And what? I insulted another samurai and he thought I would make a good lady-in-waiting? I shrugged.
    Isamu was polite enough not to press me. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to lunch there myself. I should have been with him, only my uncle remembered he’d left some important papers in the inn back at Ochiai. I volunteered to fetch them and we agreed to meet in Tsumago. We’d intended to walk further yesterday, but we had to change our plans.’
    If Lord Shimizu hadn’t been forced to stop in Tsumago, the events of yesterday might never haveoccurred — and I might not be going to Edo now. Perhaps destiny was guiding me?
    â€˜Will this be your first time in Edo?’ Isamu asked.
    I nodded.
    â€˜Mine too.’ His eyes were shining. ‘I’m going to study painting with one of our domain’s greatest masters. I’ll live in the domain’s upper mansion and also serve my uncle. In our family it’s traditional for the first son of a household to take in the second son of the second son. That’s me: I’m the second son of my uncle’s younger brother.’
    â€˜I hope it’s a more agreeable position than that of a second daughter,’ I remarked, making him laugh. Then he moved off to catch up with Shimizu, who was walking a little way ahead.
    Our pace was steady, and that night we reached Suhara, a dozen miles or so from Tsumago, and almost the same size. I stayed upstairs in the women’s quarters of the waki-honjin , and had the strange experience of being a guest. I was served a meal on a lacquered tray and a maid unrolled my futon.
    We reached the Fukushima barrier, high above the Kiso River, at lunchtime the next day. Our travel papers were inspected then we passed through the gate. A little further down the road Shimizu pointed out a post which marked the halfway point between Edo and Kyoto. From here it was about a ten-day walk to Edo, he told us, as we set off for Yabuhara, where we would spend the night before climbing the Torii pass.
    I knew of Yabuhara; the town was renowned for combs made from the local birch trees. Apparently theirreputation had travelled beyond the Kiso Valley, as when we reached the town Lord Shimizu paused outside a shop, saying, ‘I have to buy one of their famous combs for Misaki.’ Isamu and I followed him inside; I was hoping to learn more about the woman who would be my mistress.
    In the back of the shop, the comb-maker sat cross-legged behind his work table. His wife laid out a selection of combs for Lord Shimizu: fine-toothed to clean the hair, wider teeth for arranging and unpicking, and ornamental combs.
    Shimizu’s hand hovered for a moment over the useful combs before finally settling on a small red-lacquered decorative comb with rounded corners, painted with flowers. He picked it up and showed it to me.
    â€˜What do you think, Kasumi?’
    For a moment I just stared; it was such an exquisite object. Finally, remembering that I had been asked a question, I stammered, ‘It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.’
    â€˜Will Misaki like it?’
    I shook my head. ‘Without knowing the lady, I can’t say whether or not she will like it.’
    Shimizu laughed. ‘Well, that’s an honest answer.’
    I could hear my father scolding in my head. Don’t tell him what you think — who needs your opinion? Tell him what he wants to hear .
    â€˜I’m sorry, sir. I meant to say of course she will like it,’ I