The Samurai That I Loved

第40章

“No!” Eliza screamed, tearing free from the guard’s merciless hold with an unnatural strength gained from panic. Shojiro was just beginning to move the sword forward when she immediately flung herself upon him. The Katana blade fell from his grasp, clattering onto the marble floor. His head remained bent while Eliza cried hysterically and buried her face against his chest. 

“You can't do this! You can't!" 

Before he could do anything at all, the guards were already ripping her off of him and dragging her back several feet. Her shrieks filled the entire palace, stunning all who were there taking witness. Shojiro reached for the sword once more while his head remained bent in the display of dishonor, although his heart felt as if it had just shattered all anew. The sound of her voice, the feel of her hands when she had collapsed into him, the scent of her hair being the last trace of her he would have left, all of it was burning straight into his spirit like a scar meant to destroy him before death even arrived. 

When his fingers curled around the hilt, Makato-san’s voice came from behind him with a quick,

“Wait."

Shojiro froze, keeping his head lowered yet his eyes were now wide with shock and confusion. Makato-san took that moment to walk in front of him and Hiruma-san before standing to face the Shogun himself. The Shogun stood to his feet, casting a deep scowl towards Makato-san as he said, 

“What is the meaning of this, why do you stop the ritual?” 

Makato-san swallowed nervously and bowed before turning his head to glance back at his bloodied fellow man from over his shoulder. He also noticed Chiyo-chan and her father looking positively livid as they stared on with impatience in front of the hundreds of other spectators.

“I have an alternative to Seppoku, Ohime-sama.” He started respectfully, getting down on one knee and bowing his head. The Shogun crossed his arms and lifted one dubious brow of annoyance. Makato-san took in his demeanor with terror in his heart, however, some matters were far more important to face to one’s self rather than cower back in fear. 

Expunging his dread for his own life, he continued quickly, “It is far too honorable to grant him the death befitting a Samurai. If you want to make an example of this man’s blatant disrespect for others, I suggest you make his punishment as shameful as he. Tattoo him like a filthy criminal and exile him to Miyakejima where he will surely die a slow, shameful death on his own.” 

Whispers and murmurs of several voices began to rise like a bubbling brook throughout the court as many seemed in agreement. Makato-san lifted his head to gaze at his ruler who simply clasped his chin as if contemplating this new sentence. Kenji-Sama and Chiyo-chan immediately vocalized their disagreement, prompting the Shogun to shout, “Silence!” 

The room fell quiet, so quiet one could even hear a needle-point pen drop if listening intently enough. The Shogun then uncrossed his arms as he nodded and proclaimed, “Yes, this is true death, the slow death of contemplation, to spend his last days in isolation with only his mind for company to ponder his mistakes. I like this. See to it he is put aboard the ships tonight. But now…there is another matter to settle.”

Makato-san inwardly breathed a sliver of relief as he quickly stepped back to his place behind Shojiro. For a brief moment, their eyes met and Makato-san felt compelled to nod, however he did not. The man wasn’t out of harm’s way in the least, merely put on a longer dile.

But none of it mattered…not when the Shogun had still yet to decide the girl’s fate. 

In that moment, the Shogun turned to face Eliza with a look of resolution. She was still being held by two guards, even though she was past sanity. The tears continued to fall down her face while she practically shook with apparent distress. It made no difference. The Shogun then turned to look at Shojiro being flanked on either side by Makato and Hiruma. With a sigh, he spoke to him directly, prompting Shojiro to meet his gaze.