The Last Concubine by Lesley Downer

look at him, but every now and then she could not resist letting her eyes flicker shyly to his face.
    He paused to refill his pipe and continued as if thinking aloud.
    ‘In this world everything is in the hands of the gods and our karma. None of us can choose our destiny. I am a prisoner, like you. I have been called upon to be shogun. My predecessors – Lord Ieyoshi, Lord Iesada – spent their lives here in the palace with their page boys and concubines. They played music and wrote poetry, they hosted the deer hunt and went falconing. I thought my life was going to be like that too.
    ‘But it has turned out quite differently. I’ve been out of the castle. I’ve travelled the Eastern Sea Road and seen the fifty-three famous sights. I’ve been to the capital and negotiated with the Son of Heaven, more than once. I have seen my people, too, thousands of them. I’d never seen people like those before. They’re not like samurai, they don’t keep their feelings hidden. You can see their lives in their faces. You’re like that. You bring sunshine to this gloomy place.’
    ‘Sire!’ said Sachi, horrified. A man should not reveal so much of himself, even to a worthless girl like her; and this was not just any man but the shogun. To have taken the remotest interest in the inferior beings who lined the road might hint at weakness to the listeners in the shadows; and to compare her to them might even be taken as criticism of their efforts to make her more polished. Unperturbed, he continued.
    ‘Now my responsibilities grow heavier still. I’m supposed to be a true Barbarian-Quelling Generalissimo, not just bear the title. Tomorrow I leave for Osaka, to lead my troops to quell the Choshu rebels.’
    He said the last words with a grunt, twisting his mouth into a samurai scowl as if trying on the face for size. Then he laughed disarmingly.
    ‘Let’s enjoy my last night here,’ he said. ‘There’s so much I want to talk to you about. When I come back, we’ll get to know each other properly. Now . . . Let me look at you.’
    He lifted her hair, running the smooth heavy strands through his fingers. Then he shoved her sleeping robe aside. She closed hereyes as she felt the touch of his hand on her belly. She could feel the heat of his skin, breathe his scent. Gently he stroked, then began to move his hand lower.
    ‘So fine, so soft . . . Like a flower,’ he murmured.
    VI
    That night the rains broke, crashing on the tiled roofs like an army of galloping hooves. In the morning every leaf, petal and blade of grass in the gardens sparkled with moisture. Deep inside the palace the shogun and his concubine could feel that the humidity had lifted and the air had cleared.
    The maids who came to wake them found the small futon beside the shogun’s larger one undisturbed. The shogun had gone, slipping away before daylight broke. Only his scent lingered.
    The four women who had watched over Sachi during the night – the venerable Lady Nakaoka, Lady Tsuguko, Lady Chiyo and the shaven-headed lady priest – were waiting for her in the antechamber. Sachi knelt before them. The morning air poured in. Feeling four sets of eyes fixed on her like hawks eyeing a field mouse, she tried to straighten her tousled hair and smooth her make-up. She knew she would have to repeat every conversation she had had with the shogun, but His Majesty’s words were so precious that she wanted to keep them to herself, not recite them like a lesson. Timidly she glanced at Lady Nakaoka. To her surprise she was smiling at her.
    ‘Well, well, my dear,’ she said, stifling a yawn. ‘You did very well. We heard all we needed to hear.’
    A bevy of maids tidied Sachi’s hair and make-up and helped her into her day kimono then swept her back along the corridors to the princess’s apartments. She walked in a daze, hardly seeing where they led her. Everything had changed. She had awoken into a new world but she did not yet understand what that meant or what