In the darkest part of the night the assassin came over the wall into the garden. He was almost invisible. He wore close-fitting black clothes and his tabi were black, and a black cowl and mask covered his head. He was a small man and he ran noiselessly for the front of the stone inner fortress and stopped just short of the soaring walls. Fifty yards away two Browns guarded the main door. Deftly he threw a cloth-covered hook with a very thin silk rope attached to it. The hook caught on the stone ledge of the embrasure. He shinned up the rope, squeezed through the slit, and disappeared inside.
The corridor was quiet and candle-lit. He hurried down it silently, opened an outside door, and went out onto the battlements. Another deft throw and a short climb and he was into the corridor above. The sentries that were on the corners of the battlements did not hear him though they were alert.
He pressed into an alcove of stone as other Browns walked by quietly, on patrol. When they had passed, he slipped along the length of this passageway. At the corner he stopped. Silently he peered around it. A samurai was guarding the far door. Candles danced in the quiet. The guard was sitting cross-legged and he yawned and leaned back against the wall and stretched. His eyes closed momentarily. Instantly, the assassin darted forward. Soundlessly. He formed a noose with the silk rope in his hands, dropped it over the guard’s neck and jerked tight. The guard’s fingers tried to claw the garrote away but he was already dying. A short stab with the knife between the vertebrae as deft as a surgeon’s and the guard was motionless.
The man eased the door open. The audience room was empty, the inner doors unguarded. He pulled the corpse inside and closed the door again. Unhesitatingly he crossed the space and chose the inner left door. It was wood and heavily reinforced. The curved knife slid into his right hand. He knocked softly.
”In the days of the Emperor Shirakawa . . .” he said, giving the first part of the password.
From the other side of the door there was a sibilance of steel leaving a scabbard and the reply, ”. . . there lived a wise man called Enraku-ji . . .”
”. . . who wrote the thirty-first sutra.’ I have urgent dispatches for Lord Toranaga.’
The door swung open and the assassin lunged forward. The knife went upward into the first samurai’s throat just below the chin and came out as fast and buried itself identically into the second of the guards. A slight twist and out again. Both men were dead on their feet. He caught one and let him slump gently; the other fell, but noiselessly. Blood ran out of them onto the floor and their bodies twitched in the throes of death.
The man hurried down this inner corridor. It was poorly lit. Then a shoji opened. He froze, slowly looked around.
Kiri was gaping at him, ten paces away. A tray was in her hands.
He saw that the two cups on the tray were unused, the food untouched. A thread of steam came from the teapot. Beside it, a candle spluttered. Then the tray was falling and her hands went into her obi and emerged with a dagger, her mouth worked but made no sound, and he was already racing for the corner. At the far end a door opened and a startled, sleep-drenched samurai peered out.
The assassin rushed toward him and tore open a shoji on his right that he sought. Kiri was screaming and the alarm had sounded, and he ran, sure-footed in the darkness, across this anteroom, over the waking women and their maids, into the innermost corridor at the far side.
Here it was pitch dark but he groped along unerringly to find the right door in the gathering furor. He slid the door open and jumped for the figure that lay on the futon. But his knife arm was caught by a viselike grip and now he was thrashing in combat on the floor. He fought with cunning, broke free, and slashed again but missed, entangled with the quilt. He hurled it off and threw himself at the figure, knife poised for the death thrust. But the man twisted with unexpected agility and a hardened foot dug into his groin. Pain exploded in him as his victim darted for safety.
Then samurai were crowding the doorway, some with lanterns, and Naga, wearing only a loincloth, his hair tousled, leapt between him and Blackthorne, sword on high.
‘Surrender!’
The assassin feinted once, shouted, ‘Namu Amida Butsu—‘ In the Name of the Buddha Amida—turned the knife on himself and with both hands thrust it up under the base of his chin. Blood spurted and he slumped to his knees. Naga slashed once, his sword a whirling arc, and the head rolled free.
In the silence Naga picked the head up and ripped off the mask. The face was ordinary, the eyes still fluttering. He held the head, hair dressed like a samurai, by its topknot.
‘Does anyone know him?’
No one answered. Naga spat in the face, threw the head angrily to one of his men, tore open the black clothes and lifted the man’s right arm, and found what he was looking for. The small tattoo—the Chinese character for Amida, the special Buddha—was etched in the armpit.
‘Who is officer of the watch?’
‘I am, Lord.’ The man was white with shock.
Naga leaped at him and the others scattered. The officer made no attempt to avoid the ferocious sword blow which took off his head and part of his shoulder and one arm.
‘Hayabusa-san, order all samurai from this watch into the courtyard,’ Naga said to an officer. ‘Double guards for the new watch. Get the body out of here. The rest of you are—’ He stopped as Kiri came to the doorway, the dagger still in her hand. She looked at the corpse, then at Blackthorne.
‘The Anjin-san’s not hurt?’ she asked.
Naga glanced at the man who towered over him, breathing with difficulty. He could see no wounds or blood. Just a sleep-tousled man who had almost been killed. White-faced but no outward fear. ‘Are you hurt, Pilot?’
‘I don’t understand.’
Naga went over and pulled the sleeping kimono away to see if the pilot had been wounded.
‘Ah, understand now. No. No hurt,’ he heard the giant say and he saw him shake his head.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘He seems unhurt, Kiritsubo-san.’
He saw the Anjin-san point at the body and say something. ‘I don’t understand you,’ Naga replied. ‘Anjin-san, you stay here,’ and to one of the men he said, ‘Bring him some food and drink if he wants it.’
‘The assassin, he was Amida-tattooed, neh?‘ Kiri asked.
‘Yes, Lady Kiritsubo.’
‘Devils—devils.’
‘Yes.’
Naga bowed to her then looked at one of the appalled samurai. ‘You follow me. Bring the head!’ He strode off, wondering how he was going to tell his father. Oh, Buddha, thank you for guarding my father.
‘He was a ronin,‘ Toranaga said curtly. ‘You’ll never trace him, Hiro-matsu-san.’
‘Yes. But Ishido’s responsible. He had no honor to do this, neh? None. To use these dung-offal assassins. Please, I beg you, let me call up our legions now. I’ll stop this once and for all time.’
‘No.’ Toranaga looked back at Naga. ‘You’re sure the Anjin-san’s not hurt?’
‘No, Sire.’
‘Hiro-matsu-san. You will demote all guards of this watch for failing in their duty. They are forbidden to commit seppuku. They’re ordered to live with their shame in front of all my men as soldiers of the lowest class. Have the dead guards dragged by their feet through the castle and city to the execution ground. The dogs can feed off them.’
Now he looked at his son, Naga. Earlier that evening, urgent word had arrived from Johji Monastery in Nagoya about Ishido’s threat against Naga. Toranaga had at once ordered his son confined to close quarters and surrounded by guards, and the other members of the family in Osaka—Kiri and the Lady Sazuko—equally guarded. The message from the abbot had added that he had considered it wise to release Ishido’s mother at once and send her back to the city with her maids. ‘I dare not risk the life of one of your illustrious sons foolishly. Worse, her health is not good. She has a chill. It’s best she should die in her own house and not here.’
‘Nags-san, you are equally responsible the assassin got in,’ Toranaga said, his voice cold and bitter. ‘Every samurai is responsible, whether on watch or off watch, asleep or awake. You are fined half your yearly revenue.’
‘Yes, Lord,’ the youth said, surprised that he was allowed to keep anything, including his head. ‘Please demote me also,’ he said. ‘I cannot live with the shame. I deserve nothing but contempt for my own failure, Lord.’
‘If I wanted to demote you I would have done so. You are ordered to Yedo at once. You will leave with twenty men tonight and report to your brother. You will get there in record time! Go!’ Naga bowed and went away, white-faced. To Hiro-matsu he said equally roughly, ‘Quadruple my guards. Cancel my hunting today, and tomorrow. The day after the meeting of Regents I leave Osaka. You’ll make all the preparations, and until that time, I will stay here. I will see no one uninvited. No one.’
He waved his hand in angry dismissal. ‘All of you can go. Hiro-matsu, you stay.’
The room emptied. Hiro-matsu was glad that his humiliation was to be private, for, of all of them, as Commander of the Bodyguard, he was the most responsible. ‘I have no excuse, Lord. None.’
Toranaga was lost in thought. No anger was visible now. ‘If you wanted to hire the services of the secret Amida Tong, how would you find them? How would you approach them?’
‘I don’t know, Lord.’
‘Who would know?’
‘Kasigi Yabu.’
Toranaga looked out of the embrasure. Threads of dawn were mixed with the eastern dark. ‘Bring him here at dawn.’
‘You think he’s responsible?’
Toranaga did not answer, but returned to his musings.
At length the old soldier could not bear the silence. ‘Please Lord, let me get out of your sight. I’m so ashamed with our failure—’
‘It’s almost impossible to prevent such an attempt,’ Toranaga said.
‘Yes. But we should have caught him outside, nowhere near you.’
‘I agree. But I don’t hold you responsible.’
‘I hold myself responsible. There’s something I must say, Lord, for I am responsible for your safety until you’re back in Yedo. There will be more attempts on you, and all our spies report increased troop movement. Ishido is mobilizing.’
‘Yes,’ Toranaga said casually. ‘After Yabu, I want to see Tsukku-san, then Mariko-san. Double the guards on the Anjin-san.’
‘Despatches came tonight that Lord Onoshi has a hundred thousand men improving his fortifications in Kyushu,’ Hiro-matsu said, beset by his anxiety for Toranaga’s safety.
‘I will ask him about it, when we meet.’
Hiro-matsu’s temper broke. ‘I don’t understand you at all. I must tell you that you risk everything stupidly. Yes, stupidly. I don’t care if you take my head for telling you, but it’s the truth. If Kiyama and Onoshi vote with Ishido you will be impeached! You’re a dead man—you’ve risked everything by coming here and you’ve lost! Escape while you can. At least you’ll have your head on your shoulders!’
‘I’m in no danger yet.’
‘Doesn’t this attack tonight mean anything to you? If you hadn’t changed your room again you’d be dead now.’
‘Yes, I might, but probably not,’ Toranaga said. ‘There were multiple guards outside my doors tonight and also last night. And you were on guard tonight as well. No assassin could get near me. Even this one who was so well prepared. He knew the way, even the password, neh? Kiri-san said she heard him use it. So I think he knew which room I was in. I wasn’t his prey. It was the Anjin-san.’
‘The barbarian?’
‘Yes.’
Toranaga had anticipated that there would be further danger to the barbarian after the extraordinary revelations of this morning. Clearly the Anjin-san was too dangerous to some to leave alive. But Toranaga had never presumed that an attack would be mounted within his private quarters or so fast. Who’s betraying me? He discounted a leakage of information from Kiri, or Mariko. But castles and gardens always have secret places to eavesdrop, he thought. I’m in the center of the enemy stronghold, and where I have one spy, Ishido—and others—will have twenty. Perhaps it was just a spy.
‘Double the guards on the Anjin-san. He’s worth ten thousand men to me.’
After Lady Yodoko had left this morning, he had returned to the garden Tea House and had noticed at once the Anjin-san’s inner frailty, the over-bright eyes and grinding fatigue. So he had controlled his own excitement and almost overpowering need to probe deeper, and had dismissed him, saying that they would continue tomorrow. The Anjin-san had been given into Kiri’s care with instructions to get him a doctor, to harbor his strength, to give him barbarian food if he wished it, and even to let him have the sleeping room that Toranaga himself used most nights. ‘Give him anything you feel necessary, Kiri-san,’ he had told her privately. ‘I need him very fit, very quickly, in mind and body.’
Then the Anjin-san had asked that he release the monk from prison today, for the man was old and sick. He had replied that he would consider it and sent the barbarian away with thanks, not telling him that he had already ordered samurai to go to the prison at once and fetch this monk, who was perhaps equally valuable, both to him and to Ishido.
Toranaga had known about this priest for a long time, that he was Spanish and hostile to the Portuguese. But the man had been ordered there by the Taikō so he was the Taikō’s prisoner, and he, Toranaga, had no jurisdiction over anyone in Osaka. He had sent the Anjin-san deliberately into that prison not only to pretend to Ishido that the stranger was worthless, but also in the hope that the impressive pilot would be able to draw out the monk’s knowledge.
The first clumsy attempt on the Anjin-san’s life in the cell had been foiled, and at once a protective screen had been put around him. Toranaga had rewarded his vassal spy, Minikui, a kaga-man, by extracting him safely and giving him four kagas of his own and the hereditary right to use the stretch of the Tokaidō Road—the great trunk road that joined Yedo and Osaka—between the Second and Third Stages, which were in his domains near Yedo, and had sent him secretly out of Osaka the first day. During the following days his other spies had sent reports that the two men were friends now, the monk talking and the Anjin-san asking questions and listening. The fact that Ishido probably had spies in the cell too did not bother him. The Anjin-san was protected and safe. Then Ishido had unexpectedly tried to spirit him. out, into alien influence.
Toranaga remembered the amusement he and Hiro-matsu had had in planning the immediate ‘ambush’—the ‘ronin bandits’ being one of the small, isolated groups of his own elite samurai who were secreted in and around Osaka—and in arranging the delicate timing of Yabu who, unsuspecting, had effected the ‘rescue.’ They had chuckled together, knowing that once more they had used Yabu as a puppet to rub Ishido’s nose in his own dung.
Everything had succeeded beautifully. Until today.
Today the samurai he had sent to fetch the monk had returned empty-handed. ‘The priest is dead,’ the man had reported. ‘When his name was called, he didn’t come out, Lord Toranaga. I went in to fetch him, but he was dead. The criminals around him said when the jailers called his name, he just collapsed. He was dead when I turned him over. Please excuse me, you sent me for him and I’ve failed to do what you ordered. I didn’t know if you wanted his head, or his head on his body seeing he was a barbarian, so I brought the body with the head still on. Some of the criminals around him said they were his converts. They wanted to keep the corpse and they tried to keep it so I killed a few and brought the corpse. It’s stinking and verminous but it’s in the courtyard, Sire.’
Why did the monk die? Toranaga asked himself again. Then he saw Hiro-matsu looking at him questioningly. ‘Yes?’
‘I just asked who would want the pilot dead?’
‘Christians.’
Kasigi Yabu followed Hiro-matsu along the corridor, feeling grand in the dawn. There was a nice salt tang to the breeze, and it reminded him of Mishima, his home city. He was glad that at long last he was to see Toranaga and the waiting was over. He had bathed and dressed with care. Last letters had been written to his wife and to his mother and his final will sealed in case the interview went against him. Today he was wearing the Murasama blade within its battle-honored scabbard.
They turned another corner, then unexpectedly Hiro-matsu opened an ironbound reinforced door and led the way up the stone steps into the inner central keep of this part of the fortifications. There were many guards on duty and Yabu sensed danger.
The stairs curled upward and ended at an easily defendable redoubt. Guards opened the iron door. He went out onto the battlements. Has Hiro-matsu been told to throw me off, or will I be ordered to jump? he asked himself unafraid.
To his surprise Toranaga was there and, incredibly, Toranaga got up to greet him with a jovial deference he had no right to expect. After all, Toranaga was Lord of the Eight Provinces, whereas he was only Lord of Izu. Cushions had been placed carefully. A teapot was cradled in a sheath of silk. A richly dressed, square-faced girl of little beauty was bowing low. Her name was Sazuko and she was the seventh of Toranaga’s official consorts, the youngest, and very pregnant.
‘How nice to see you, Kasigi Yabu-san. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.’
Now Yabu was certain that Toranaga had decided to remove his head, one way or another, for, by universal custom, your enemy is never more polite than when he is planning or has planned your destruction. He took out both his swords and placed them carefully on the stone flags, allowed himself to be led away from them and seated in the place of honor.
‘I thought it would be interesting to watch the dawning, Yabu-san. I think the view here is exquisite—even better than from the Heir’s donjon. Neh?‘
‘Yes, it is beautiful,’ Yabu said without reservation, never having been so high in the castle before, sure now that Toranaga’s remark about ‘the Heir’ implied that his secret negotiations with Ishido were known. ‘I’m honored to be allowed to share it with you.’
Below them were the sleeping city and harbor and islands, Awaji to the west, the coastline falling off to the east, the growing light in the eastern sky slashing the clouds with flecks of crimson.
‘This is my Lady Sazuko. Sazuko, this is my ally, the famous Lord Kasigi Yabu of Izu, the daimyo who brought us the barbarian and the treasure ship!’ She bowed and complimented him and he bowed and she returned his bow again. She offered Yabu the first cup of tea but he politely declined the honor, beginning the ritual, and asked her to give it to Toranaga, who refused, and pressed him to accept it. Eventually, continuing the ritual, as the honored guest he allowed himself to be persuaded. Hiro-matsu accepted the second cup, his gnarled fingers holding the porcelain with difficulty, the other hand wrapped around the haft of his sword, loose in his lap. Toranaga accepted a third cup and sipped his cha, then together they gave themselves to nature and watched the sunrise. In the silence of the sky.
Gulls mewed. The city sounds began. The day was born.
Lady Sazuko sighed, her eyes wet with tears. ‘It makes me feel like a goddess being so high, watching so much beauty, neh? It’s so sad that it’s gone forever, Sire. So very sad, neh?‘
‘Yes,’ Toranaga said.
When the sun was halfway above the horizon, she bowed and left. To Yabu’s surprise, the guards left also. Now they were alone. The three of them.
‘I was pleased to receive your gift, Yabu-san. It was most generous, the whole ship and everything in it,’ Toranaga said.
‘Whatever I have is yours,’ Yabu said, still deeply affected by the dawning. I wish I had more time, he thought. How elegant of Toranaga to do this! To give me a lastness of such immensity. ‘Thank you for this dawn.’
‘Yes,’ Toranaga said. ‘It was mine to give. I’m pleased that you enjoyed my gift, as I enjoyed yours.’
There was a silence.
‘Yabu-san. What do you know about the Amida Tong?’
‘Only what most people know: that it’s a secret society of ten—units of ten—a leader and never more than nine acolytes in any one area, women and men. They are sworn by the most sacred and secret oaths of the Lord Buddha Amida, the Dispenser of Eternal Love, to obedience, chastity, and death; to spend their lives training to become a perfect weapon for one kill; to kill only at the order of the leader, and if they fail to kill the person chosen, be it a man, woman, or child, to take their own life at once. They’re religious fanatics who are certain they’ll go directly from this life to Buddhahood. Not one of them has ever been caught alive.’ Yabu knew about the attempt on Toranaga’s life. All Osaka knew by now and knew also that the Lord of the Kwanto, the Eight Provinces, had locked himself safely inside hoops of steel. ‘They kill rarely, their secrecy is complete. There’s no chance of revenge on them because no one knows who they are, where they live, or where they train.’
‘If you wanted to employ them, how would you go about it?’
‘I would whisper it in three places—in the Heinan Monastery, at the gates of the Amida shrine, and in the Johji Monastery. Within ten days, if you are considered an acceptable employer, you will be approached through intermediaries. It is all so secret and devious that, even if you wished to betray them or catch them, it would never be possible. On the tenth day they ask for a sum of money, in silver, the amount depending on the person to be assassinated. There is no bargaining, you pay what they ask beforehand. They guarantee only that one of their members will attempt the kill within ten days. Legend has it that if the kill is successful, the assassin goes back to their temple and then, with great ceremony, commits ritual suicide.’
‘Then you think we could never find out who paid for the attack today?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think there will be another?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. They contract for one attempt at one time, neh? But you’d be wise to improve your security—among your samurai, and also among your women. The Amida women are trained in poison, as well as knife and garrote, so they say.’
‘Have you ever employed them?’
‘No.’
‘But your father did?’
‘I don’t know, not for certain. I was told that the Taikō asked him to contact them once.’
‘Was the attack successful?’
‘Anything the Taikō did was successful. One way or another.’
Yabu felt someone behind him and presumed it to be the guards coming back secretly. He was measuring the distance to his swords. Do I try to kill Toranaga? he asked himself again. I had decided to and now I don’t know. I’ve changed. Why?
‘What would you have to pay them for my head?’ Toranaga asked him.
‘There is not enough silver in all Asia to tempt me to employ them to do this.’
‘What would another have to pay?’
‘Twenty thousand koku—fifty thousand—a hundred—perhaps more, I don’t know.’
‘Would you pay a hundred thousand koku to become Shōgun? Your bloodline goes back to the Takashimas, neh?‘
Yabu said proudly, ‘I would pay nothing. Money’s filth—a toy for women to play with or for dung-filled merchants. But if that were possible, which it isn’t, I would give my life and the life of my wife and mother and all my kin except my one son, and all my samurai in Izu and all their women and children to be Shōgun one day.’
‘And what would you give for the Eight Provinces?’
‘Everything as before, except the life of my wife and mother and son.’
‘And for Suruga Province?’
‘Nothing,’ Yabu said with contempt. ‘Ikawa Jikkyu’s worth nothing. If I don’t take his head and all his generation in this life I’ll do it in another. I piss on him and his seed for ten thousand lifetimes.’
‘And if I were to give him to you? And all Suruga—and perhaps the next province, Totomi, as well?’
Yabu suddenly tired of the cat-and-mouse game and the talk about the Amida. ‘You’ve decided to take my head, Lord Toranaga—very well. I’m ready. I thank you for the dawn. But I’ve no wish to spoil such elegance with further talk, so let’s be done.’
‘But I haven’t decided to take your head, Yabu-san,’ Toranaga said. ‘Whatever gave you the thought? Has an enemy poured poison in your ears? Ishido perhaps? Aren’t you my favored ally? Do you think that I’d entertain you here, without guards, if I thought you hostile?’
Yabu turned slowly. He had expected to find samurai behind him, swords poised. There was no one there. He looked back at Toranaga. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I brought you here so we could talk privately. And to see the dawn. Would you like to rule the provinces of Izu, Suruga, and Totomi—if I do not lose this war?’
‘Yes. Very much,’ Yabu said, his hopes soaring.
‘You would become my vassal? Accept me as your liege lord?’
Yabu did not hesitate. ‘Never,’ he said. ‘As ally, yes. As my leader, yes. Lesser than you always, yes. My life and all I possess thrown onto your side, yes. But Izu is mine. I am daimyo of Izu and I will never give power over Izu to anyone. I swore that oath to my father, and the Taikō who reaffirmed our hereditary fief, first to my father and then to me. The Taikō confirmed Izu to me and my successors forever. He was our liege lord and I swore never to have another until his heir became of age.’
Hiro-matsu twisted his sword slightly in his hand. Why doesn’t Toranaga let me get it over with once and for all? It’s been agreed. Why all the wearing talk? I ache and I want to piss and I need to lie down.
Toranaga scratched his groin. ‘What did Ishido offer you?’
‘Jikkyu’s head—the moment that yours is off. And his province.’
‘In return for what?’
‘Support when war begins. To attack your southern flank.’
‘Did you accept?’
‘You know me better than that.’
Toranaga’s spies in Ishido’s household had whispered that the bargain had been struck, and that it included responsibility for the assassination of his three sons, Noboru, Sudara, and Naga. ‘Nothing more? Just support?’
‘By every means at my disposal,’ Yabu said delicately.
‘Including assassination?’
‘I intend to wage the war, when it begins, with all my force. For my ally. In any way I can to guarantee his success. We need a sole Regent in Yaemon’s minority. War between you and Ishido is inevitable. It’s the only way.’
Yabu was trying to read Toranaga’s mind. He was scornful of Toranaga’s indecision, knowing that he himself was the better man, that Toranaga needed his support, that at length he would vanquish him. But meanwhile what to do? he asked himself and wished Yuriko, his wife, were here to guide him. She would know the wisest course. ‘I can be very valuable to you. I can help you become sole Regent,’ he said, deciding to gamble.
‘Why should I wish to be sole Regent?’
‘When Ishido attacks I can help you to conquer him. When he breaks the peace,’ Yabu said.
‘How?’
He told them his plan with the guns.
‘A regiment of five hundred gun-samurai?’ Hiro-matsu erupted.
‘Yes. Think of the fire power. All elite men, trained to act as one man. The twenty cannon equally together.’
‘It’s a bad plan. Disgusting,’ Hiro-matsu said. ‘You could never keep it secret. If we start, the enemy would start also. There would never be an end to such horror. There’s no honor in it and no future.’
‘Isn’t this coming war the only one we’re concerned with, Lord Hiro-matsu?’ Yabu replied. ‘Aren’t we concerned only with Lord Toranaga’s safety? Isn’t that the duty of his allies and vassals?’
‘Yes.’
‘All Lord Toranaga has to do is win the one great battle. That will give him the heads of all his enemies—and power. I say this strategy will give him victory.’
‘I say it won’t. It’s a disgusting plan with no honor.’
Yabu turned to Toranaga. ‘A new era requires clear thinking about the meaning of honor.’
A sea gull soared overhead mewing.
‘What did Ishido say to your plan?’ Toranaga asked.
‘I did not discuss it with him.’
‘Why? If you think your plan’s valuable to me, it would be equally valuable to him. Perhaps more so.’
‘You gave me a dawn. You’re not a peasant like Ishido. You’re the wisest, most experienced leader in the Empire.’
What’s the real reason? Toranaga was asking himself. Or have you told Ishido too? ‘If this plan were to be followed, the men would be half yours and half mine’
‘Agreed. I would command them.’
‘My appointee would be second-in-command?’
‘Agreed. I would need the Anjin-san to train my men as gunners, cannoneers.’
‘But he would be my property permanently, you would cherish him as you do the Heir? You’d be totally responsible for him and do with him precisely as I say?’
‘Agreed.’
Toranaga watched the crimson clouds for a moment. This planning is all nonsense, he thought. I will have to declare Crimson Sky myself and lunge for Kyoto at the head of all my legions. One hundred thousand against ten times that number. ‘Who will be interpreter? I can’t detach Toda Mariko-san forever.’
‘For a few weeks, Sire? I will see that the barbarian learns our language.’
‘That’d take years. The only barbarians who’ve ever mastered it are Christian priests, neh? They spend years. Tsukkusan’s been here almost thirty years, neh? He won’t learn fast enough, anymore than we can learn their foul languages.’
‘Yes. But I promise you, this Anjin-san’ll learn very quickly.’ Yabu told them the plan Omi had suggested to him as if it were his own idea.
‘That might be too dangerous.’
‘It would make him learn quickly, neh? And then he’s tamed.’
After a pause, Toranaga said, ‘How would you maintain secrecy during the training?’
‘Izu is a peninsula, security is excellent there. I’ll base near Anjiro, well south and away from Mishima and the border for more safety.’
‘Good. We’ll set up carrier pigeon links from Anjiro to Osaka and Yedo at once.’
‘Excellent. I need only five or six months and—’
‘We’ll be lucky to have six days!’ Hiro-matsu snorted. ‘Are you saying that your famous espionage net has been swept away, Yabu-san? Surely you’ve been getting reports? Isn’t Ishido mobilizing? Isn’t Onoshi mobilizing? Aren’t we locked in here?’
Yabu did not answer.
‘Well?’ Toranaga said.
Yabu said, ‘Reports indicate all that is happening and more. If it’s six days then it’s six days and that’s karma. But I believe you’re much too clever to be trapped here. Or provoked into an early war.’
‘If I agreed to your plan, you would accept me as your leader?’
‘Yes. And when you win, I would be honored to accept Suruga and Totomi as part of my fief forever.’
‘Totomi would depend on the success of your plan.’
‘Agreed.
‘You will obey me? With all your honor?’
‘Yes. By bushido, by the Lord Buddha, by the life of my mother, my wife, and my future posterity.’
‘Good,’ Toranaga said. ‘Let’s piss on the bargain.’
He went to the edge of the battlements. He stepped up on the ledge of the embrasure, then onto the parapet itself. Seventy feet below was the inner garden. Hiro-matsu held his breath, aghast at his master’s bravado. He saw him turn and beckon Yabu to stand beside him. Yabu obeyed. The slightest touch could have sent them tumbling to their deaths.
Toranaga eased his kimono and loincloth aside, as did Yabu. Together they urinated and mixed their urine and watched it dew the garden below.
‘The last bargain I sealed this way was with the Taikō himself,’ Toranaga said, greatly relieved at being able to empty his bladder. ‘That was when he decided to give me the Kwanto, the Eight Provinces, as my fief. Of course, at that time the enemy Hojo still owned them, so first I had to conquer them. They were our last remaining opposition. Of course, too, I had to give up my hereditary fiefs of Imagawa, Owari, and Ise at once for the honor. Even so, I agreed and we pissed on the bargain.’ He straddled the parapet easily, settling his loincloth comfortably as though he stood in the garden itself, not perched like an eagle so far above. ‘It was a good bargain for both of us. We conquered the Hojo and took over five thousand heads within the year. Stamped him out and all his tribe. Perhaps you’re right, Kasigi Yabu-san. Perhaps you can help me as I helped the Taikō. Without me, the Taikō would never have become Taikō.’
‘I can help to make you sole Regent, Toranaga-sama. But not Shōgun.’
‘Of course. That’s the one honor I don’t seek, as much as my enemies say I do.’ Toranaga jumped down to the safety of the stone flags. He looked back at Yabu who still stood on the narrow parapet adjusting his sash. He was sorely tempted to give him a quick shove for his insolence. Instead he sat down and broke wind loudly. ‘That’s better. How’s your bladder, Iron Fist?’
‘Tired, Lord, very tired.’ The old man went to the side and emptied himself thankfully over the battlements too, but he did not stand where Toranaga and Yabu had stood. He was very glad that he did not also have to seal the bargain with Yabu. That’s one bargain I will never honor. Never.
‘Yabu-san. This must all be kept secret. I think you should leave within the next two or three days,’ Toranaga said.
‘Yes. With the guns and the barbarian, Toranaga-sama?’
‘Yes. You will go by ship.’ Toranaga looked at Hiro-matsu. ‘Prepare the galley.’
‘The ship is ready. The guns and powder are still in the holds,’ Hiro-matsu replied, his face mirroring his disapproval.
‘Good.’
You’ve done it, Yabu wanted to shout. You’ve got the guns, the Anjin-san, everything. You’ve got your six months. Toranaga’ll never go to war quickly. Even if Ishido assassinates him in the next few days, you’ve still got everything. Oh, Buddha, protect Toranaga until I’m at sea! ‘Thank you,’ he said, his sincerity openly vast. ‘You’ll never have a more faithful ally.’
When Yabu was gone, Hiro-matsu wheeled on Toranaga. ‘That was a bad thing to do. I’m ashamed of that bargain. I’m ashamed that my advice counts for so little. I’ve obviously outlived my usefulness to you and I’m very tired. That little snot-dung daimyo knows he’s manipulated you like a puppet. Why, he even had the effrontery to wear his Murasama sword in your presence.’
‘I noticed,’ Toranaga said.
‘I think the gods have bewitched you, Lord. You openly dismiss such an insult and allow him to gloat in front of you. You openly allow Ishido to shame you in front of all of us. You prevent me and all of us from protecting you. You refuse my granddaughter, a samurai lady, the honor and peace of death. You’ve lost control of the Council, your enemy has outmaneuvered you, and now you piss on a solemn bargain that is as disgusting a plan as I’ve ever heard, and you do this with a man who deals in filth, poison, and treachery like his father before him.’ He was shaking with rage. Toranaga did not answer, just stared calmly at him as though he had said nothing. ‘By all kami, living and dead, you are bewitched.’ Hiro-matsu burst out, ‘I question you—and shout and insult you and you only stare at me! You’ve gone mad or I have. I ask permission to commit seppuku or if you won’t allow me that peace I’ll shave my head and become a monk—anything, anything, but let me be gone.’
‘You will do neither. But you will send for the barbarian priest, Tsukku-san.’
And then Toranaga laughed.
