A high-pitched voice intruded on his thoughts. It was the boy he had sent out earlier that day. “The shaman has come.”
The chief emerged from his hut, and greeted the shaman. First-to-Dance stood a little behind him.
The shaman spoke up. “You will all recall that I spoke of a dream which foretold that this would happen.”
“I don’t remember . . .” said the chief, rather doubtfully.
“Oh, I do,” said First-to-Dance brightly. “We are fortunate to have so farseeing a medicine man.”
The chief had the feeling he was being conned. And that somehow, that little minx First-to-Dance had managed to form an alliance with his shaman. But he remembered how frightening the samurai on their horses seemed at the Time of Mourning. Even now, he wasn’t convinced that they were entirely human. Perhaps they were the Guardians of the Land of the Dead. And if not, well, First-to-Dance would regret that she had trifled with him.
“All right, First-to-Dance, tell us exactly what these Guardians want from us. . . .”
She did. And she also told them what they needed to do for her, so that she could properly serve as their speaker to the guardians.
Niji Masu (Watsonville)
Konishi Hyonai had been an important man in his village before he confessed to being a kirishitan. His grandfather had been a ji-samurai, who farmed in times of peace and fought in times of war. In 1591, then-Shogun Hideyoshi issued the Edict on Changing Status, which forced the “country samurai” to choose whether to forfeit samurai privileges and give up their weapons and other special privileges, or to become full-time retainers and live in castle towns. Hyonai’s grandfather was one of the many who decided to surrender the sword and pick up a hoe.
Still, his fellow villagers did not forget his former status, and at village gatherings he was always given the seat of honor. Naturally, he was chosen as the village headman, the shoya, the only villager who could legally present a petition to the daimyo’s district officer, the daikan. When he died, his son took his place, and in his turn, Hyonai did the same.
Since many of the farmers of Niji Masu came from his district, Hyonai found himself chosen as the headman of the new colony. And as headman, he found himself forced to deal with the farmers’ outrage when they were told that they would be planting vegetables, not rice, in the spring.
Hyonai walked slowly toward the quarters of Moniwa Motonori, Date Masamune’s daikan for Niji Masu. As he walked, he turned over in his mind the words that he must speak, polishing them until they were as smooth as the pebbles in the bed of a swift mountain stream.
* * *
“A thousand pardons for this intrusion on your time, daikan.”
“Ah, Hyonai. Your family is well?”
“Quite well. Daikan, the farmers of this village are very grateful that by the grace of our shogun, Lord Iemitsu, and his grand governor, Masamune of the Date, their miserable lives were spared, and they were permitted to practice the Christian religion in this new land.
“Honorable daikan, I am sure you are familiar with the age-old saying, ‘who can ever weary of moonlit nights and well-cooked rice?’ The moon rises and falls just as often as it did in the old country. But what of rice? We took rice across the Great Ocean with us, and we eat it when we are homesick. Every week, we have less of it than we did before. If we are not allowed to plant it here, then one day soon, we will run out. We did not mind planting wheat and barley last autumn, those are winter crops. But it is now spring, and if we cannot see the cherry trees blossom, or hear the skylark sing, then at least let us prepare the paddies and sow the uneaten rice. Until we eat rice that we have grown in this land, we cannot call it New Nippon, we cannot call it home.”
“Hyonai, I thank you for sharing your concerns with me. Our lord’s scholars knew about this land before we boarded a single ship. They told him that this would be a great place for growing vegetables, but that they were doubtful that rice would grow here. You must trust to their judgment.”
“Most worthy daikan, I have another saying to remind you of: ‘You will never behold the rising sun by looking toward the west.’ We will of course grow vegetables as the lord commands. Last month, we sowed maize and beans, and in summer, we will plant the sweet potatoes and the onions. But if we do not plant any rice, how will we know for sure that rice cannot grow here? Here in Niji Masu, it rains more than in Andoryu, but less than in the mountains that loom over Kodachi Machi. Walk around this land, and it is colder in some places, warmer in others. Perhaps we can find a good place for a rice paddy.”
* * *
Moniwa Motonori bowed respectfully to the grand governor’s chief advisor, Katakura Shigetsuna. The latter gestured for him to sit. Motonori gracefully knelt, folding his legs beneath him. He waited in silence for Shigetsuna to speak.