White Serpent Castle by Lensey Namioka Read Free Book Online Page A

up from his food at last. With the worst of his hunger pangs satisfied, he seemed ready to make some much needed contribution to the conversation. He addressed the envoy respectfully. “Perhaps you were present on the famous occasion when Lord Okudaira and his friend Lord Mochizuki spent the whole evening capping each other’s verses to a beautiful lady? Their poetic feats were the talk of the daimyo’s capital for weeks.” The envoy’s expression grew freezing. “I hardly think that Lord Okudaira’s love affair is the proper topic for discussion in the present company!”
    Zenta’s chopsticks fell from his fingers with a clatter. He sat completely still for several seconds, and then he roused himself and put his chopsticks on their china holder with exaggerated care.
    Matsuzo went hot with shame over the public rebuke received by his friend, and for a moment he was filled with an acute dislike for the arrogant envoy. He looked at Lady Kaede for her reaction, and saw that she sat as motionless as a porcelain doll. Her face showed not a trace of expression.
    During the next few minutes Zenta busied himself with his food once more. Suddenly he raised his head and addressed the envoy again, evidently willing to risk another rebuke. “Were you at the archery contest in the daimyo’s capital last May? All of the daimyo’s chief supporters must have taken part. What a glorious pageant it was! It was a pity that the weather was so wet. The muddy ground caused many horses to slip, and several fine archers lost through no fault of theirs.”
    The envoy seemed to regret his harshness toward the ronin, and this time he answered more pleasantly. “I had to miss that contest, unfortunately. The wet weather started a recurrence of an old illness of mine.” He looked at Zenta in some surprise. “Were you there during the contest?”
    â€œI was there in the capacity of an attendant,” replied Zenta. “Some of the contestants wanted a little coaching.”
    There was a bustling in the dining hall. Lady Kaede had stood up, and she was directing her women to gather up the saké utensils. Cutting short the chamberlain’s effusive thanks, she gave a grave nod to the company. Then she arranged her trailing skirt behind her and swept from the room.
    With Lady Kaede’s departure, the envoy apparently felt that the dinner party had no further claim on his patience. In spite of the chamberlain’s eager offer to call in dancers and musicians, he could not be persuaded to stay any longer.
    â€œI know what we shall do,” said the chamberlain. “We can take a stroll in the garden to dispel the wine fumes. It would be nice to do some moon viewing, and the more talented of us can make verses.”
    When the envoy showed no interest in verse making, the chamberlain said hurriedly, “Our garden is noted for its miniature mountain, a most curiously shaped piece of rockery. We should be honored to have your opinion on it.” While the chamberlain gave orders for lanterns to be brought, the dinner guests struggled to their feet. There were some audible groans and some crackling knees. The diners left the room as quickly as good manners permitted, glad to escape the discomfort of the dinner party and find release in the garden.

Chapter 7
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    â€œWe need more light here,” grumbled the chamberlain. “I just bumped my toe against this rock!” In a few minutes lanterns were bobbing here and there, held by the serving girls to help the guests along the treacherously twisting paths. In the flickering light the garden had the fantastical look of a scene from an old fairy tale. “Now, who is going to be the first person with a poem to the autumn moon?” asked the chamberlain.
    Zenta noticed that Matsuzo was the only person to respond enthusiastically. His young friend would certainly not miss this opportunity to indulge in his