Jack let himself be led back down the corridor and towards the reception
room with the wall hanging of the white crane. Upon entering, Jack
immediately knelt down and bowed low until his head touched the tatami in
deference to the daimyo.
'So you were caught out by my Nightingale Floor?'
Daimyo Takatomi sat cross-legged upon the cedar dais, guarded by six
samurai who lined the walls like stone statues.
'Yes,' Jack admitted.
'Excellent!' he cried, a satisfied grin on his face. 'The Nightingale
Floor is the new security feature in my palace that I'm most proud of. The
bird sound is produced by metal hinges under the floorboards that are
triggered with the pressure of a single foot. This makes it impossible to
cross without being detected. I think our little game of "Escape" has proved
its effectiveness.'
'What I would like to know, Father,' asked Emi, who knelt between
Yamato and Akiko, 'is how Jack got out of this room.'
Jack smiled to himself. While he hadn't managed to avoid all the traps
during the daimyo's challenge to each of them to escape his castle
undetected, he had evaded the guards longer than anyone else.
'Emi-chan,' said her father reproachfully, 'I cannot believe my own
daughter didn't spot the other door.
Jack glanced over to see the daimyo indicating the blank wall to their
right. They all studied it, bemused. Takatomi, with a wave of his hand,
prompted one of his samurai guards to push at the central wall panel. It
gave a soft click, then pivoted on a central axis.
The samurai disappeared in the blink of an eye.
A moment later, the wall revolved again and the guard was back in the
room. Jack, Akiko, Yamato and Emi looked at one another, dumbfounded
by the hidden door. For even now, though they knew it was there, the wall
appeared solid and unbroken.
'As I said before, children, Nijo Castle is now ninja-proof, but you can
never be too careful. I have a guard behind that door every time I receive
guests in this room.'
'So that's how you escaped,' said Emi, shaking her head in disbelief. 'I
can't believe you spotted it and we didn't.'
Jack was going to correct her, but decided against it. Clearly, the
daimyo thought no one had discovered his bolt-hole behind the wall
hanging of the crane.
It was daimyo Takatomi's secret.
Now it was Jack's too.
'But enough of the games for this evening,' announced the daimyo. 'It
is time for cha-no-yu.'
* * *
'The host will sometimes spend days going over every detail to ensure that
the ceremony is perfect,' explained Emi in hushed tones.
They were entering the roji, a tiny cultivated garden, devoid of flowers
but sprinkled with water so that all the mossy rocks, ferns and steppingstones glistened like morning dew. Emi led the way and seated herself on a
bench, indicating for Jack, Akiko and Yamato to join her.
'Here we wait,' informed Emi softly, 'in order that we may rid
ourselves of the dust of the world.'
Jack's anticipation grew. He didn't particularly like green tea, but he
knew the tea ceremony was of the greatest significance. Emi had tried to
explain the ritual, but there was so much symbolism attached to every
action, movement and moment that Jack understood very little of what she
said.
'There are four guiding principles to the tea ceremony,' she had
explained. 'Harmony, respect, purity and tranquillity. At its deepest level,
you should experience the same qualities in your own heart and mind.'
As they sat there, silently absorbing the peace of the roji, Jack began to
understand some of Emi's meaning. The soft trickle of flowing water
sounded like distant bells and the simplicity of the garden somehow eased
his mind. The setting was almost magical and he felt his spirits begin to lift.
'Now remember, Jack,' whispered Emi after a moment of silence,
'when we go in, do not step on the joins between mats. Do not walk on or
touch the central tatami where the hearth is. You must remain in the
kneeling seiza position throughout the ceremony, and don't forget to admire
the hanging scroll, study the kettle and hearth and comment favourably on
the scoop and tea container when they're offered to you for inspection.'
'Is that all?' exclaimed Jack, his brain bursting with so much etiquette.
'Don't worry. Simply follow what I do,' said Akiko softly, seeing
Jack's growing alarm.
She gave him a tender look and Jack felt reassured. With Akiko by his
side, he should be able to avoid the most embarrassing of mistakes.
'You have to be quiet now,' ordered Emi under her breath,
straightening out her kimono as her father appeared.
Daimyo Takatomi, dressed in a stark-white kimono, approached along
a black-pebbled path. He paused by a large stone basin set among rocks and
filled it with fresh water from the stream. Jack watched as the daimyo took
a small wooden ladle from beside the basin, scooped up some of the water
and washed both his hands and mouth. Once he had completed the
purification ritual, he made his way through the chumon gate, and silently
welcomed his guests with a courteous bow. They responded likewise before
following the daimyo back through the chumon, which Emi had informed
Jack was a symbolic doorway between the physical world and the spiritual
world of the cha-no-yu.
They each took up the wooden ladle in turn and purified their hands
and mouth, before continuing along the path to the tea house. Here, the
entrance was only a few feet high, so they had to crouch to enter. Emi had
explained that the doorway was constructed like this so that everyone had to
bow their heads, stressing that all were equal in chano-yu, irrespective of
status or social position. It also meant a samurai could not carry a sword
inside.
Jack was the last to enter. He slipped off his sandals and ducked
through the entrance. As he stood up, he gasped in astonishment. The small
square room was decorated entirely in gold leaf. To Jack, it was like
standing inside a bar of solid gold. Even the ceiling was gilded. The only
adornment in the room was a single scroll hanging in the alcove. The
tatami, while not gold, were lined with rich red gossamer, so that the tea
room's magnificence totally overwhelmed the senses.
Jack had been under the impression from Akiko that tea rooms were
modest, simple buildings made of wood and decorated in subdued colours,
but this tea house was grand beyond imagination.
Akiko and Yamato looked equally dumbstruck and the daimyo
Takatomi was clearly pleased with their reactions. He gestured for them to
kneel and join him.
Emi stepped towards the alcove, taking her time to admire the scroll
painting before seating herself in front of the hearth and examining the
kettle appreciatively. Akiko and Yamato performed the same ritual, then
Jack tried to copy their actions.
He approached the alcove and studied the scroll, a simple yet exquisite
painting of a kingfisher upon a bare branch, with kanji scripture traced in
ink down its right-hand side.
'The kanji says Ichi-go, Ichi-e: one time, one meeting,' explained
Takatomi. 'The scroll reminds me that each tea ceremony is unique and
must be savoured for what it gives.'
The others nodded appreciatively at Takatomi's wisdom.
'The script may also be interpreted as "One chance in a lifetime". This
reminds me that in any conflict of life and death, there is no chance to try
again. You must seize life with both hands.'
Ichi-go, Ichi-e, repeated Jack quietly. The daimyo's words rang true.
Having lost so much, Jack understood the fragility of life.
Takatomi indicated for Jack to join the others, then the daimyo lit a
small charcoal fire in the hearth and fed the flames with incense. The heady
aroma of sandalwood soon filled the air.
Retiring to a preparation room through a discreet door to his right,
Takatomi collected a black tea bowl containing a bamboo whisk, a white
linen cloth and a slender ivory scoop. On his return, he meticulously
arranged these by a large oval water jar placed on the central tatami.
Next Takatomi brought in a second water bowl, a bamboo water ladle
and a green bamboo rest for the kettle lid. Closing the shoji door behind
him, he then arranged himself in seiza.
With due ceremony, he removed a fine silk cloth of bright purple from
his obi and began a ritual cleansing of the scoop and tea container. The level
of concentration the daimyo applied to the process was quite remarkable.
Every movement was painstakingly precise and heavy with a symbolism
that remained a mystery to Jack.
As the daimyo ladled hot water from the kettle into the tea bowl, he
spoke once again. 'When tea is made with water drawn from the depths of
the mind, whose bottom is beyond measure, we really have what is called
cha-no-yu.'
And so the Way of Tea began.