SAMURAI

CHAPTER 3; Goro-Takezaki Suenaga

    A ray of light penetrated through the slight window. I blinked my eyelids. An indistinct facial shadow was the first sight I could enjoy. The shadow was hazy. I blinked a few times. The image became clearer when all my eyelids perfectly opened. Face in front of me showing that I was reborn in another world inhabited by only an old man. 

    She was full of wrinkles all over her skin. Her long hair was tangled up and down her shoulders. Her face reminded me of the ghost who looked after the empty haunting house in dramas that often performed in the city of Dadu, the capital of the Mongol Empire. 

    The two hands that were full of wrinkles of age repeatedly touched my body, wrapping all over the wounds I had suffered. Could it be that I died and was resurrected with the old grandmother? If that's true, I chose to die again in the arms of the goddess Afro-Thena, who I didn't even know her name even though it's just a dream.

    The clothes I wore have changed into thin yukata. A little shabby, but still worth using. I tried to move my arms and legs. But could not be moved. Once again. Petrified, didn't want to obey my brain's ordered. I tried to open my mouth, greeted the old woman who sat looking at me. But only moans and indistinct consonants came out. I felt alive when the faint ears caught the screams of a child running away. 

    “Gaijin-san okita. Gaijin-san okita[1].”

    I tried again. The result remained the same. My nose tickled the aroma of medicinal herbs from the stinging leaves. As consciousness began to sink into my body, an unbearable pain stomped my heart. My organs screamed from toe to head as if dozens of troops had smashed the hilt of their sword together into my head. My lips felt dry and cracked, my throat caught. My whole body seemed to be moaning, writhing begging for mercy. 

    Unable to stand the torture that whacked, I opened my mouth screaming. All that came out was a meaningless groan. 

    “Don't move too much. Your wounds will open again." The woman's voice croaked. She stroked my shoulder which was covered in spices mixed with herbal medicine. 

    “Your body is very strong. For an ordinary person, you will die with wounds like this," she added. 

    The hoarse voice of the old woman came back, “I've given the best medicine I have. Your critical period has passed. Just rest and wait for healing."

    I cursed myself. This old woman had saved my life, it's not nice to equate her with the ghost who looked after an empty haunting house. I blinked, thanking her as well as apologizing. 

    "H … how long ... have I been here?" I said breathlessly. 

    “For about two weeks.” 

    “W … where … is this?”

    “Iki.”

    I gasped. Iki Island? The waves were too far to take me to this place. What I remember was that the ship hadn't even left Kyushu Island yet. My head was dizzy seven times when I was forced to think. I didn't want to ask any more questions. Silence while waiting for the power to recover was the best medicine. 

    "Drink this potion."

    The female healer lifted my head with her left hand, her right hand pushed a wooden spoon filled with herbs to my mouth. Slowly I forced my mouth to open. Sick. I hold on. Dropped by dropped the bitter liquid smell of carcass piercing the nose, tracing the throat. I tried to struggle, but my whole body felt stiff, painful to bite the bone. I tried to spit it out, but the old doctor covered my mouth until all the medicine came down my throat, lodged briefly in the stomach, then glowed all over my body. 

    "Please rest. Master Fujiwara will see you."

    Without waiting for approval, the old female healer left me alone. My head is in a tilted position. My eyes couldn't check the surrounding space. All I got was a wooden beam supporting the roof. Regular transverse wood withstood tiles. All wood was finely lacquered brown. 

    I was in a room that was clean enough. The house of a samurai with a reasonable income, although relatively modest compared to the mansion of the samurai lord of the clan I've visited.

    The potion that entered my mouth began to work. There was a tingling feeling, going through the muscles of the body. The wound on the thighs and shoulders feels itchy. Bruises due to kicks and blows to the abdomen and chest gradually light. My breathing gradually normal. The dozens of soldiers who had been beating drums on my head also disappeared. My eyes felt heavy. There is no interesting sight other than wooden blocks. 

    Closing my eyes, hoping that the goddess Afro-Thena was present in a dream, it was better for now. A moment later I fell asleep. My wish was granted. Goddess Afro-Thena appeared to replace the nightmare that has often haunted me.

    Master Fujiwara, the savior did not appear. Maybe he visited while I was asleep. Three times a day the old doctor fed me with the potion. My mouth and nose are getting used to the taste and aroma. After finishing all the potions my body fell fresh, then fell asleep again in a dream. Two weeks passed in the same rhythm of treatment, during which time Master Fujiwara - the owner of the house - did not visit.

    One week later the sores on my thighs and shoulders dried up. Bruises all over my body disappeared without a trace. My strength recovered, even though it was somewhat weak for a knight. The circular muscles slowly strengthen. The room in which I lay became clearer. 

    The thick door was the only exit. No special equipment except futons and hard pillows lying on the tatami. Not a treatment room, not a living room, to be precise a luxurious detention room. After each treatment, the door closed again. 

    Two guards at a glance could be seen taking turned standing frozen in front of the door with fully equipped weapons. They didn't need to put me in guard soldiers. After all, I'm not going anywhere. My body was still weak. I had no money, no supplies, no clothes, or no weapons. I didn't even know my goal.

    Morning schedule as usual. After breakfast of a bowl of rice, warm soup, and a piece of dried fish, the old doctor entered the room. The old lady effortlessly wiped my body with warm water, then changed my thin yukata. However, this morning there was something unusual. After breakfast, the doctor did not appear either. Until the sun was directly overhead, not the old woman showed herself.

    Before lunch was served, the heavy door opened. My stomach was rumbling asking to be filled. In my recovery period, I needed lots of protein and carbohydrates. This afternoon it was not an ordinary servant who came with a tray of food, but two guards holding long swords were drawn in with stiff faces. 

    Next, an old man dressed in a red samurai costume showed a fresh face. A red hakama paired with a haori kimono top of the same color. The eyes narrowed with the eyelids sunken in, the nose pointed, the hair was in a bun back leaving the scalp in front. His face was slightly pale without sideburns. 

    He smiled friendly though stiff, looked down, said greetings. 

    “Nihonggo ga hanasemasu ka[2]?” he asked.

    “Hai” I reply.

    He introduced himself. His name is Fujiwara Kaneto. "We will face Goro-dono[3]. Get ready.”

    The orders were short, without asking my name and origin. There was a lot of respect when saying the name of the samurai we would meet, even if the person concerned was not there. The taste was contagious, making me wanted to see him soon. He left me with a few questions and clarity. The door left open with two soldiers still standing guard at the front. 

    Not waiting long, two young women came with new toiletries and clothes. Not a shabby yukata, but a typical samurai outfit; Blue hakama pants and a kimono haori top of the same color. Days without soaking in hot water and soap to wash my body, as if for the first time I felt the sensation ofuro[4].

    The two young women washed me gently, not missing an inch of my skin. They shaved my sideburns and beard cleanly. From the reflection in the bath, my face looked smooth with reddish-white skin. Two cute girls helped rub my back with a soft stone until it was spotless. 

    The cuts and stab wounds of the sword healed, as usual, leaving only an incision on the skin. The open wound closed nicely. I had to admit, that the old woman's hands were very skilled. He could be rich if she lived in the capital city of Dadu.

    After lunch, Fujiwara Kaneto was waiting in the living room. He sat down in seiza[5] position, surrounded by seven samurai subordinates who sat in the same manner. Katana[6] and wakizashi[7] tucked in their waist. The samurais wore colorful hakama pants and haori kimono. To my eyes, their clothes looked beautiful after living for a long time in the monotone of Mongol warrior uniforms. 

    I lowered my head, saluting the eight samurais. They replied. Master Kaneto invited me to take the available space. For most foreigners, sitting in seiza position, not an easy thing to do. Enduring five minutes of sitting without moving was tremendous endurance. For me, not something difficult. 

    I had studied the language and culture of this country fluently before the assignment. Learning languages without learning culture was like being able to read but not being able to write.

    Before seiza, I lowered my head again respectfully, then placed my butt on the two bent feet. The remaining water droplets from my freshly washed hair soaked the haori kimono I was wearing.

    The spring breeze moved slowly, breezes around the living room. The sun shined brightly, the light broke through the cherry blossoms that bloom in the front garden of the living room. The sliding door to the thin paper-lined room opened wide. The fresh oxygen from the garden filled with bonsai flowers moved freely refreshing. 

    "How's your wound?" asked Kaneto kindly.

    My hand automatically felt the wound on the shoulder and the thigh. 

    “It's recovered. Leaving only small scratches. Thank you for taking care of me."

    Kaneto shook his head. "Not me. It is Goro-dono’s command.”

    The name was called again with respect. My desire to know was getting bigger. "Where is Goro-dono now? I want to thank him."

    Kaneto smiled kindly. His face looked fresh for a samurai over fifty years old. The movement was still swift. The muscles in both his hands stood out, indicating he was a capable swordsman. 

    "We are also waiting to be called. Goro-dono himself will ask you directly." 

    "If I may know, who is Goro-dono?" The respectful tone of this life-saving samurai when talking about his lord made me even more curious. 

    “He is Shoni-dono's trusted samurai. Later you can ask him directly," Kaneto answered simply.

    Shoni Kagesuke? The ruler of Hakata island? of course I knew who he was. There was no more question and answer sentences. Kaneto seemed to shy away from questions. His seven samurai followers were silent. Five furin[8]which was hanging over the sliding door brought clinging sound when blown off, filling the void that wrapped the living room atmosphere. 

    A young samurai asked to enter. He bowed his body in respect. His master told him to come closer. After removing a pair of swords at his waist, and placing them outside the living room, he edged forward with his backs on two knee bones. The samurai whispered into Fujiwara Kaneto's ear. The leader of the Fujiwara clan nodded at the samurai's whisper. 

    "It is time. We're leaving now," he ordered.

    I lowered my body towards Kaneto, following the other samurai's movements. The samurai leader of the Fujiwara clan stood up, steadily taking steps to fulfill Goro-dono's summons.

    Outside the house, twenty fully armed samurai greeted him. Two meters and a half high fence surrounds the house area. The large gate as the initial entrance was closed by two fighting doors. Both the fence and the gate are protected by tiles. Carved kanji on the door with the name of the clan of the house owner decorated it beautifully. 

    One large house as a residence Fujiwara Kaneto surrounded by ten gazebo houses. The form of a wooden roof with a roof Black tile neatly lined up supported by sturdy wooden beams.

    Between the main house and the gazebo house where the samurai of the Fujiwara clan lived, a terraced garden was neatly arranged. The lawnmower was seen trimming the tall trees and grass. When the mistress of the Fujiwara clan left with the samurai, he and two female servants fell, bowing in respect to the host who was about to walk out. Two other servants rushed over. In their hands were several pairs of wooden slippers. I received a pair. The journey continues on foot.

    Leaving the Fujiwara’s clan home for the meeting place with Goro-dono took about two hours on foot along the bumpy village road. On either side of the rice fields stretches. Yellow rice ready for harvest. Between the rice fields, cherry trees lined up cheerfully displaying pink flowers. Birds chirped loudly. Cherry blossoms pink, rice yellows, blue skies blend beautifully in God's painting.

    Although they treat me very well, I felt like a prisoner. My journey gave me that signal. My position seems to have been prearranged. Every time I moved right or left, backward or forward through the two-leading samurai, they always brought me back to the center of the circle. Two samurai at the front, two on the right and left, the rest, twenty samurai steadfastly staring at the rear. 

    Fujiwara Kaneto stepped quickly to lead the very front formation. They were still deeply suspicious. What made me couldn’t stop thinking, if I was a prisoner, why did they treat me as an honored guest? treated until recovered, given proper food three times a day, clean clothes, hot shower, friendly treatment. The image of the cruelty of the samurai who liked to behead opponents and collected them as an amusement of victory vanished for a while.

    After crossing the plateau, the casement roof of an imposing fortress greeted us. Dozens of banners with red butterflies fluttered over the window. We were accelerating our pace. From a distance of ten meters, the fort was a visible structure of the building. 

    Supported by a series of mountain rocks as pedestals, the Hizume fortress, as written on the entrance gate, has a towering roof. A five-story fort building. The first floor stood firmly supporting the four floors which arranged in a tapered way at the final level. The walls of the building are made of cedarwood, polished light blue. Carvings in the form of kanji decorated with gold ink and pictures of some wild animals were striking. 

    Beautiful, and full of confidence from the owner. Each floor was constructed of wood with five semicircular holes in the walls. The holes served as places for archers and scouts. To enter the fort area, a wooden bridge crossed the boundary. Under the bridge, a river with a width of three meters flew clear water. Small rippling water indicates the depth of the river was not very deep. 

    At the end of the outer bridge, four samurai in red armor with long spears in their right hand greeted them. Their hair was a bun behind the typical of the samurai. Without wearing any war helmet. From afar their faces were cold with suspicious eyes. As the samurai guards got closer to recognizing our party. 

    We crossed the long bridge from the outside to the inside of the fort without any questions. When asked by the guards, "Goro-dono is waiting", Kaneto answered lightly. 

    When the name of the trusted samurai of the Shoni clan as the ruler of Kyushu was mentioned, the faces of the samurai that met turned friendly and respectful. Respect for the summoned, as well as deeper respect for the summoner, Goro-dono. 

    Without asking for more details, they let us pass. Except, a wary looked at me. 

    My height surpassed the height of Japanese samurai in general. Reddish white skin hit by the sun looks striking side by side with a collection of yellow skin. The facial texture of the mixed-race more visible without the sideburns. Among the samurai escorting the Fujiwara clan, I was the only one unarmed. For them, there was nothing to worry about.

    Within the castle grounds, a five meters thick-walled fence circled beyond the welcoming splendor of the home walls belonging to the Fujiwara clan. The five meters wide and seven meters high gate stands majestically. The large area was beautiful enough to accommodate hundreds of horsemen galloping at the same time. Above the gate, a flag with a red butterfly inscribed with "Taira" stands out. 

    The wide field is interspersed with four very artistic gardens. Cherry trees, bonsai, various colorful flowers decorated the field. The area around the fort which was very large was used as a small town by the owner.

     Taira no Kagetaka was the owner of the fort and the head of the samurai clan. The entire family of the samurai clan gathered in the fortress, with children up to the thousands of souls in it. That was the brief information I got from Fujiwara Kaneto. 

    I thank him for the little information conveyed. Quite important as a conversation starter after two hours of walking without greeting each other. It seemed that wallowing in solitude and rigidity was not the character of this old samurai.

    Although the Fujiwara family lived only for two hours away, structurally their government was not under the rule of the Taira clan. Each family has its lineage which is guarded against generation to generation so as not to attack each other. The ancestors of the Fujiwara clan and the Taira clan were good friends, and would always maintain the brotherhood in a vow that was held firmly by their heir.

    As we entered the Hizume castle, we were greeted by hundreds of samurai in various uniforms. They did not wear armor. Multicolored Hakama pants-clad in haori kimonos of various colors bearing the symbols of each family. In the field stood dozens of tents with three kinds of flags. 

    The samurai grouped in front of their respective tents based on flags. The Sashi Clan, the So Clan, the Taira Clan, the kanji for each clan were written prominently. Time and time again my eyes searched for clues to the flag of the samurai they respected. I did not find it. There was no Goro Clan flag among them.

    To enter the main hall of the meeting, we had to climb a thirty meters high stone staircase. Before stepping on the stone steps, the interesting sight made me stop my steps for a moment. At close range, the fifth floor of the fort was like a Chinese pagoda piercing through the clouds. From where I was standing, a glimpse of a human image could be seen moving rapidly between the hole in the wall on the fifth floor. They were scouts and archers.

    Several graceful female servants dressed in colorful kimonos escorted us to the meeting hall on the first floor. The meeting room was three times the size of Fujiwara Kaneto's living room.

    I was welcomed by an old samurai of Kaneto's age who sat cross-legged in a seiza position. On either side of him were other samurai sitting in the same manner. There were no sharp weapons on their waist. All swords are placed outside, in the possession of the owner of the house. The samurai in hakama trousers and haori kimono seemed lacking without a sword at his waist.

    The bright light from the outside illuminated the inner space. However, when we took the seats that had been prepared, the sliding door as a divider between the rooms closed. The high ceiling keeps the room cool even though it was inhabited by fifteen people. The oil lamp turned on, its light falling on the partially shaved scalp. The hair of the samurai curled upwards.

    Fujiwara Kaneto and his two samurai escorts paid their respects. I followed. They replied with the same attitude. We took our seats directly opposite the old samurai. He felt special to be the center of attention of other samurai. His age, which exceeded the samurai present, gave off an aura of policy as a decision-maker. Was he the one called Goro-dono?

    Fujiwara Kaneto pleasantries briefly, apologizing for a little too late. He introduced me and reported to all present how I was found floating in the sea. On Goro-dono's orders, the Fujiwara family treated my wound until it healed. Nothing new from the information I've heard.

    As Kaneto explained, my eyes were engrossed in examining who was present. Sitting in the left row, three samurai in their forties. They have similar faces. I made sure the three samurai were siblings, at least from the same family. The three of them listened carefully to Kaneto's speech.

    My eyes moved to the right row. Right next to me sat a samurai over thirty, but not yet forty. His face was clean without sideburns. His hair was thinly curled upward leaving a scalp that was approaching a flap. Eyes narrowed, as thin as his lips, which curved in mockery when he heard Kaneto spoke. His body was fat. His neck was covered in fat. His gaze was disdainful when our gazes met.

    Next to him, a handsome young samurai had his arms. The height was the same as my height, sharp nose, strong jaw, pure white facial skin. Thick black hair curled upwards. His head was left full of hair without being shaved. His face was calm full of manhood. 

    "Please Goro-dono give orders," said Fujiwara Kaneto.

    My heart sank. Kaneto dropped his body, resting on his two bent arms, asking for directions to the handsome young man sitting on the far right. This was Goro-dono! It's not the old Samurai sitting in the middle.

    Goro searched my appearance from the tip of his feet. No sound came out of the other samurai except waiting for the leader to open his mouth. 

    "How are you?"

    I looked back. "Very well. Thank you for helping and caring for me."

    Goro nodded thinly. He smiled kindly. His face glistened in the light of the oil lamps that were installed in six places. 

    "Before we get to the subject matter, I would like to introduce those present here to you. My name is Takezaki Suenaga, more familiarly called Goro. The one sitting in the middle is Lord Taira no Kagetaka, the ruler of the Iki island, as well as the ruler of the Hizume fortress."

    Goro pointed at the old samurai who was sitting in the middle. I thought the old samurai was Goro-dono. The oldest, his face implies wisdom like an experienced leader.

    Goro turned to the three people sitting in front of him. 

    “These gentlemen are Mr. Sashi Fusashi the ruler of Hirado Island, Mr. Sashi Tomaru the ruler of Taka Island, and Mr. Sashi Isamu the ruler of the island of Nokono. The three of them are still one clan and are brothers."

    Just as I thought. The three of them are brothers. 

    “At the very end on your left is Mr. So Sukekuni, the ruler of the island of Tsushima. And, sitting next to me is my adoptive brother, Mitsui Sukenaga, more familiarly called Saburo," Goro continued.

    Successively I lowered my head in salute. They returned my respect.

    My turn. Before being asked, I took the initiative to introduce myself. Not everything about me, only what is generally known. 

    “My name…”

    Only two words, then Goro interrupted. He raised his right hand, asking me to stop explaining.

    "I will explain about you to gentlemen here."

    I gasped in curiosity. How many acknowledge do the young samurai understand about me? Goro's eyes looked around, making sure all the samurai present heard what was about to be said, then turned to look at me again. 

    “Your name is John Eracles, twenty-one years old. Son of General Robert Eracles, one of the generals of the Ilkhanat army. Your mother is Mongol. You are fluent in seven languages. Former Templars, great warriors who have conquered many. Your job to Japan is as a spy, gathering lots of information from traitors of the country as well as mapping our strength. Four times you set foot in this country, beckons here and there to gather strength with the family of traitors."

    My jaws dropped open, my heart skipped a beat. This samurai had complete information about me and my duties. My existence was threatened. It must have been for some reason that I was still alive today. The danger spread over my instincts. I pressed my heartbeat that began to tighten. 

    "You are indeed great, Goro-dono. You know all about me." I praised him sincerely.

     “Not all of them, John-san. I don't know why you are adrift in the ocean with wounds all over your body? Why is there no help from your troops? My instinct says you weren't hurt by the mobs of attackers or pirates."

    The dignified young samurai sat for a moment, then continued in a piercing tone, "I'm sure you got hurt because of problems with your group."

    I fell silent. A little sense of calm settled. He didn't know what happened to me.

    "What happened to you?" one after the Goro.

    My head twitched. "Sorry, I can't explain."

    Honestly, even now I still wondered. What madness I have done that involved in such a complicated matter. Throwing away all the hope that gained after years of hard struggle just because of the beauty of a woman whose name I don't even know? Or, am I tired of the rhythm of life all this time, and need another more thrilling adventure? I had no idea. 

    Even now I was still looking for the answer.

    Hearing my answer, a hum of fury engulfed the room. So Sukekuni, who was sitting closest to my seat, glared. This chubby samurai looked prone to anger. Hearing the stranger's refusal answer to his master's question, he was irritated. My name is no longer called with respect. 

    “Gaijin[9]! Don't be impudent. Answer Goro-dono's question!"

    Goro raised his hand to calm So Sukekuni.

     "Fine if you don't want to answer." A smile still lingered on his lips. His sharp eyes looked into mine. "But, answer this question."

    The smile died down. His lips pursed seriously. His sharp eyes did not move from my face. "Who is your contact here? How will the plan to attack the Ilkhanat troops be carried out?"

    The same question that caused General Kuddun's sword to nearly cut off my neck.

    I shook my head. "Sorry, I can't mention." 

    The words that came out of my lips were firm. 

    Now murmurs and curses could be heard clearly. Fujiwara Kaneto lowered his head. Kagetaka, the ruler of the island of Iki, bellowed. The old samurai could still be patient to hear my answer. Looked like they still wanted to give me a chance. Sashi and So Sukekuni's family could not contain their anger. The four of them shouted cursing.

    So Sukekuni stood up, wanting to slap my face if Goro didn't stop. Only Mitsui Sukenaga or Saburo remained calm. Since met him, not a word had come from the mouth of this young samurai. His face was cold, his gaze fixed on mine. 

    "Sir, are we still lacking good treatment? Helping you, caring for your wounds, giving you food and clothing. Where is your reward, Sir?" Fujiwara Kaneto brought his kindness to me.

    I didn't budge.

    Kaneto dropped his body towards me. His head bowed in half prostration, his voice trembled to plead. 

    "Please, sir. Our fate depends on your information."

    I bowed back, dropping my body like Kaneto’s.

    "I am very grateful for your kindness, Mr. Fujiwara. But, I have sworn to keep this secret."

    Goro intervened. "John-san, let me ask again. Your answers determine your life."

    Despite the broad smile on his lips, the menacing tone leaking out of those lips sounded serious. 

    "Who is your contact here? How will the plan to attack the Ilkhanat troops be carried out?"

    Instead of answering, I looked straight into Goro's eyes. The words that went out of my mouth made everyone explode. 

    “My name is John Eracles, I am the Lieutenant of the Ilkhanat army. I will not divulge the secrets of my country."

    The room was filled with swearing and bullying. Before all the anger of the samurai peaked, Goro got up from his seat, standing tall among the other samurai. He faced right towards my seat. 

    "OK. I respect your decision. We finish knightly. If you win, I make sure you can freely walk back to your country. But if you lose, your blood will soak on this island!” 

[1] Strangers wake up! a stranger awakens!

[2] Can you speak Japanese?

[3] Call of honor. Meaning; Sir

[4] Soak in hot/warm water.

[5] Japanese signature sitting. Two legs bent, buttocks resting on the soles of the feet.

[6] Long sword

[7] a sword shorter than the katana

[8] hanging bell made of metal

[9] Strangers