The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai Read Free Page A

I control some Taira temples. I have influence over the commander, and he owns you. All I desire is a coloured hat.’
    ‘I know. You shall have what you want, your tedious rank and a hat,’ Proprietor Chiba growled, like a trapped animal.
    ‘And do not damage the girls – do not injure them in any way.’ The priest’s body changed from egret to hawk, and he dropped his face closer to Proprietor Chiba’s.
    ‘Have I ever?’ Chiba raised his shoulders and stepped away. ‘But I must discipline them.’
    Discipline? Damage? Hard words. Frightening words.
    ‘You know what I mean. Otherwise—’ The priest leaned towards the proprietor again.
    ‘Goro, there is no need for threats. No need at all.’
    ‘An invitation this year and every year, until we both move up. I believe we are truly destined to help this clan in a higher capacity. Do you not agree?’
    ‘Naturally you shall be invited to the Third Day Third Month Doll Festival.’
    ‘I believe now we will be going in the same direction . . .’
    Proprietor Chiba walked away.
    ‘. . . soon,’ the priest finished, to Proprietor Chiba’s back. The priest turned to me. ‘You will see, Fifth Daughter. I was sold to a monastery when I was younger than you. What do you see now?’ He opened his arms wide and pivoted from side to side.
    He sounded pleased with himself. I had no idea what he meant. I merely bowed.
    ‘Fine clothes, a horse, a house and enough to eat.’ He fondled a lengthy piece of leather that hung at his waist. ‘Authority and power. More importantly, soon, Fifth Daughter, soon I will wear a hat of colour, as well as these priest’s robes.’ He peered down at me. ‘Then no one will dominate or control me.’ He straightened in the saddle. ‘I will visit you again, beautiful girl.’ He mounted his black beast and rode away.
    Proprietor Chiba glided towards me, tapped my head with his fleshy fingers and motioned me to follow. Standing straight, hands at my sides, I marched behind him. We crossed a wooden bridge to a large building I had seen from outside.
    Thinking about what the priest said and resolving to follow Proprietor Chiba, I studied the wobbling expanse of his robes and fell. My head hit the small stones covering the hard earthen path. Hundreds of stone needles struck my face. I heard my mother shout, ‘You have spoiled your festival smock.’ In my shame and pain I lay still. I wanted to hide.
    Strong hands, my samurai’s, hoisted me. He rescued me. He came for me. ‘Are you hurt?’ He held me upright with both hands and looked me in the face.
    My legs flexed like wet straw. ‘I do not think so.’
    ‘Can you stand by yourself?’
    I said yes, but my legs dipped when he let go. He caught me. His eyebrows puckered like Second Daughter’s did when I fell out of a tree or cut myself.
    With several long breaths, my legs steadied. My eyes refocused.
    Ahead, Proprietor Chiba motioned again to me with his chubby fingers. Standing straight, hands at my side, I caught up with him and marched behind him, as was correct.
    Proprietor Chiba stopped, hands on hips. ‘Let the servants of Big House assemble.’ His voice resonated – needing to be obeyed.
    ‘Bring Tashiko,’ he barked. ‘Ready Lesser House. We will need a kimono. This size.’ He swivelled and pointed a fat finger at me. ‘For my new acquisition, Fifth Daughter, whom I bought on my prescribed walk.’
    I was an acquisition? If this had not reflected on my family’s honour, the next time he pointed at me I would have bitten his fingers. I hated being pointed or laughed at.
    Proprietor Chiba pushed me along the row of collected people. A beautiful array of cloth and colours flickered on each: deep leaf green with gold thread, sea blue with red flowers, earth black with dazzling sunset pink. I tried to concentrate.
    I smelt sweat and food or soap when I passed each person. I also saw their hands and feet. The hands were reddened and rough, calloused like Father’s and my