* * *
The Date Ni-Maru, the flagship of the First Fleet, plowed through the waters of the North Pacific. There had been no sign of land for many days, but occasionally they were saluted by passing dolphins or seabirds.
Date Chiyo-hime turned to her maid, Mika. “I think I have made my peace with the sea-god.” By which she meant, she wasn’t seasick any longer. “Some exercise is in order.”
They returned to their cabin, and Mika helped Chiyo take off her kimono and put on her keiko-gi, obi and hakama—jacket, belt and divided skirt. The front of the black hakama had the traditional five pleats, representing the virtues of loyalty, justice, compassion, honor and respect.
They came back on deck, chatting merrily about Teitoku’s poetry. Chiyo had brought along the anthology, Enokoshu, he had written the previous year, and she and Mika had resolved to attempt to write a verse each day. The maid carried a cloth-wrapped bundle, and she laid it down with a sigh of relief.
Chiyo bent down and pulled away the cloth, revealing a naginata—a polearm. This was a practice weapon, of solid oak. The real weapon, still in her cabin, had a seven-foot shaft and a two-foot blade, fitted with a wood scabbard, the saya. The naginata blade was made the same way as the samurai longsword, the katana . . . and it was just as wickedly sharp. The butt of her naginata had a spiked ishizuki, so it was sheathed in leather.
The naginata was the only weapon that was traditionally taught to samurai women, and its length allowed them to compensate for the greater reach of a man. If she married, it would be hung over, or beside, the door to her bedchamber, as her final defense.
Actually, not quite her only weapon, or her final defense. She also had a kaiken, a dagger. It could be used for close-quarter fighting . . . or to take her own life. Just as a samurai man was taught how to perform seppuku, a painful disembowelment, so he could demonstrate his fortitude, a samurai woman had to know the art of jigai, a quick cut to the jugular that would preserve her beauty and dignity.
Chiyo pulled off the leather sheath and handed it to the maid. She handed a chalk to the maid. “Mark off my practice space,” she commanded. While Mika bent down and carefully drew a large circle, Chiyo did some stretches.
When the maid was done, she stepped out of the chalked circle. Chiyo raised her voice. “Let none enter the circle without warning, on pain of death.” Even the practice weapon could kill.
The second stage of her warm-up were the happo buri, the “eight-direction swings” with the naginata. After a few minutes of this, she began her kata, the standard attacks and parries. Several of her father’s retainers stopped what they were doing to watch her. The crew did, too, but more surreptitiously, lest they be beaten or whipped by the officers.
The only Japanese Christians allowed on this vessel, it being a warship, was a small number of single women. They were watching, too.
Her brother Munesane stopped by. He was Data Masamune’s sixth son; she, his third-eldest daughter; her mother was one of his concubines.
“Need a sparring partner, Sister?”
“That would be most appreciated.”
Munesane told his aide Rusu Nobuyasu to bring up a bokken, a wood practice sword having the same size and shape as the samurai longsword, the katana. There was a long list of kata for the duel between katana and naginashi.
Chiyo repeated the same series of practice forms, this time with Munesane executing the standard countermoves. They had learned from the same sensei, so they knew the same uchi-kata and uke-kata, offensive and defensive forms.
When they had completed the usual series, Munesane grinned at her and said, “care for some free sparring?” He preened a little bit for the benefit of the watching female kirishitan.
“Mika, fetch my practice armor.” Mika brought back Chiyo’s head, chest, waist, glove and shin protectors, which Chiyo donned.
“Where’s your armor?” she asked her brother.
“Don’t need it.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” He grudgingly sent his aide to get his own set, and put it on.
“Shall we make a small wager on this shiai?” asked Chiyo.
“What did you have in mind?”
“If I win, you teach me archery.”
“Archery? How many women archers do you know?”
“None, personally. But what of Tomoe Gozen, or Hangaku Gozen?”
“They lived centuries ago.”
“Well, the whole point of women learning the naginata is to fight men at a distance. So wouldn’t bow and arrow let us kill enemies even farther away? One mistake with the naginata, and they could close with us. We have to drop the naginata, and rely on the kaiken. Which is a close-quarters weapon. It makes no sense.”