Free The Tokaido Road (1991)(528p) by Lucia St. Clair Robson Page B

wrong?
    Cat read the notices painted on strips of wood and hung on the big, roofed-over board standing outside the gate. She found only the usual admonitions to the lower classes to work hard, avoid frivolous pastimes and showy clothing, and honor one’s superiors. There was no mention of a murder or two in the Yoshiwara. No word of a runaway courtesan.
    For the first time since her escape from the House of the Perfumed Lotus, Cat would have to face government officials. She would have to speak to them. And if they discovered she was in disguise, they would arrest her.
    In situations like this Musashi advised seizing the initiative. Cat jangled the iron rings on her staff. Those at the rear of the crowd jumped. They were less indifferent to the specter of death by crucifixion than they seemed.
    “ Namu Amida Butsu,” Cat droned.
    People glanced up in annoyance and moved away. A few pressed their hands to their sashes or the fronts of their jackets where they kept their purses. Cat approached the roughest men she saw.
    “Buy a talisman of the Thousandfold Blessing!” She draped the mendicant’s cloth over her hand and held out her begging bowl to a group of kago bearers. They were sprawled in a patch of morning sun, drinking warm sake and swapping lies.
    “Try this talisman’s virtues,” Cat said. “It will cancel out the danger years. It will banish warts. It will make you fertile.”
    One of the men had a dragon tattooed the length of his arm. With his round, woven-bamboo fan he scooped up a pile of dog excrement and dropped it into the bowl. His friends doubled over with laughter.
    Cat bowed low. “The Buddha will remember your gift, kind sir,” she said. And I will remember your face, she thought. And if we meet under different circumstances, I will separate your head from your shoulders.
    Ignoring their laughter, she moved on through the crowd, begging her way toward the head of the line. By the time she reached the gate she had emptied the bowl of the kago bearer’s contribution, but nothing else had taken its place. The people of Edo seemed to have no time for charity or religion.
    With heart pounding she passed between the guards and walked to the open-fronted building where the government’s officials sat. White bunting decorated with the three hollyhock leaves of the Tokugawa crest hung from the eaves of the porch.
    The magistrate hardly glanced at Cat when she stood before him. He sat cross-legged on a cushion on a tatami -covered dais and leaned on an elbow cushion. His assistant sat at a low writing table covered with sheafs of paper and ink pads and stamps.  Behind him, on a lower level, the captain of the guard and three of his men sat back on their heels.
    Cat had rehearsed her story, but the magistrate didn’t even question her. His assistant waved her past.
    Cat’s knees felt weak as she walked through the opposite gate. Beyond it was the broad TMkaidM, the great road called the Eastern Seaway. While Cat leaned on her staff to calm her racing heart, a pack train passed. The bells on the horses’ bridles jingled merrily. Just ahead of Cat walked a group of pilgrims who also wore bells. They were singing and clapping time and improvising dance steps as they went. Their straw sandals kicked up little explosions of dust.
    “Holy man.”
    Cat jumped when the old man tugged at her sleeve.
    “Holy man, please accept this unworthy donation for your temple.” The man was bent and worn, and his clothes hung about him in tatters. The ten -mon piece he held out must have been most of what he had.
    “You need this more than I, grandfather,” Cat said.
    “Excuse my rudeness, but you would honor me by taking it. It will bring me the blessing of Buddha.” The old man bowed low and hobbled off before Cat could say anything else.
    Cat stood in the center of the busy traffic and looked down the wide road. Its raised, hard-packed earthen surface was unmarred by ruts. Wheeled vehicles weren’t allowed on