Masato had no idea where he was.
He just hoped it wasn’t the women’s quarters as he didn’t feel much like becoming a eunuch.
The hallways here all seemed to look the same, and he had begun to feel he was going in circles as he made his way around the large compound- peeping here, listening there- hoping that he’d find some trace of the boys.
Now, as he turned a corner he reflexively stepped to the side and bowed his head as one of the head servants led a line of men and women carrying food trays past him. He’d already done this respectful pose a dozen times during the night, and was amazed by how well it worked, and how little the servants here seemed to know each other.
But this time, as he listened to the woman in green bark orders to her charges, he also heard another sound- a moan. He glanced up just in time to see a servant carrying a large steaming pot start to drop to his knees, the pot only saved at the last moment by two of the others grabbing it.
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The woman in charge threw up her arms. “Oh great! Another one’s sick! At this rate our lords will have to serve themselves.” Then she pointed to one of the other companions. “You! Take him back to the servant’s quarters.” As the man bowed and complied, she stood there thinking, and then looked around, spying Masato cringing nearby. “You there!”
“M-me?”
“Yes.” She answered, stepping up to look at him carefully. “You’re dressed as a kitchen aide, do you know how to serve?”
Masato tried not to make eye contact, keeping his eyes respectfully down. “Well…ahh…I’ve seen it done, but…”
The head servant nodded and turned away. “Good enough. Good enough! Grab that pot and follow us!” Then, as she fell back into position at the front of the line, she noticed Masato hadn’t moved. “Well? What’s wrong? You not hear me? Move it if you value your skin!”
Unable to see any way out, Masato bowed and quickly dashed over to take up the pot by its handles. It wasn’t especially heavy, but he could see how it might be a bit much for a sick person. As he hoisted it up, he leaned over to the servant watching him.
“Hey, uhh…We’re not going to serve the Inuyama princes, are we?” He said with his usual subtlety.
The servant looked at him as if he’d fallen off the roof. “What? Those brats? Of course not!”
“Oh”, said Masato, disappointed.
“Hurry up! We’re serving the clan lord himself.”
* * *
In Taro’s room, the two sons of Lord Inuyama knelt facing the elder samurai, having just finished reading the letter that Jiro had brought with him from their mother.
“I see,” said Masahiro, considering.
“So…father really wants us to come back?” Taro said to Jiro, wide-eyed with excitement. “Brother, did you hear that?!?! I told you father misses us! He…” Then he stopped abruptly as he saw the deep conflict on his brother’s face. “Elder Brother, what’s wrong?
Masahiro shook his head and forced a smile. “Nothing, Taro. It’s just a surprise.” Then he turned to look at the samurai and touched his head to the ground. “Jiro-san, you traveled far to bring us this news. Thank you.”
Jiro bowed deeply in return. “Think nothing of it. It was my duty, young lord.” Then added- “Now, I am afraid we must hurry. Please gather your things so we may leave tonight.”
“Of course,” Masahiro smiled, rising to his feet. “Jiro, please help Taro gather his things, my brother is only eight and a bit slow.”
“Of course, young lord.” Jiro answered, sharing a smile with Taro.
As he reached the door, Masahiro peeked outside cautiously, and then looked back to the two of them. “I’ll return shortly. My room is nearby.” And he left.
After his brother was gone, Taro immediately jumped up and began rushing around the room packing. Although, Jiro noted, much of what he considered important was already well organized in various bags, as though he’d been planning for this night for some time. He wasn’t so much packing as getting everything together.
“If I may speak, young master.” Jiro asked, concerned. “The young lord doesn’t seem very happy about going back.”
“What?” Said Taro absentmindedly, rooting through a closet. “What? Oh. Don’t worry, brother’s just unhappy because he likes some girl here. He wants to go home just as much as I do. Can you pass me that bag? I want to bring some scrolls.”
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