Just after dusk Kiri waddled nervously down the steps, two maids in attendance. She headed for her curtained litter that stood beside the garden hut. A voluminous cloak covered her traveling kimono and made her appear even more bulky, and a vast, wide-brimmed hat was tied under her jowls.
The Lady Sazuko was waiting patiently for her on the veranda, heavily pregnant, Mariko nearby. Blackthorne was leaning against the wall near the fortified gate. He wore a belted kimono of the Browns and tabi socks and military thongs. In the forecourt, outside the gate, the escort of sixty heavily armed samurai was drawn up in neat lines, every third man carrying a flare. At the head of these soldiers Yabu talked with Buntaro—Mariko’s husband—a short, thickset, almost neckless man. Both were attired in chain mail with bows and quivers over their shoulders, and Buntaro wore a horned steel war helmet. Porters and kaga-men squatted patiently in well-disciplined silence near the multitudinous baggage.
The promise of summer floated on the slight breeze, but no one noticed it except Blackthorne, and even he was conscious of the tension that surrounded them all. And too, he was intensely aware that he alone was unarmed.
Kiri plodded over to the veranda. ‘You shouldn’t be waiting in the cold, Sazuko-san. You’ll catch a chill! You must remember the child now. These spring nights are still filled with damp.’
‘I’m not cold, Kiri-san. It’s a lovely night and it’s my pleasure.’
‘Is everything all right?’
‘Oh, yes. Everything’s perfect.’
‘I wish I weren’t going. Yes. I hate going.’
‘There’s no need to worry,’ Mariko said reassuringly, joining them. She wore a similar wide-brimmed hat, but hers was bright where Kiri’s was somber. ‘You’ll enjoy getting back to Yedo. Our Master will be following in a few days.’
‘Who knows what tomorrow will bring, Mariko-san?’
‘Tomorrow is in the hands of God.’
‘Tomorrow will be a lovely day, and if it isn’t, it isn’t!’ Sazuko said. ‘Who cares about tomorrow? Now is good. You’re beautiful and we’ll all miss you, Kiri-san, and you, Mariko-san!’ She glanced at the gateway, distracted, as Buntaro shouted angrily at one of the samurai, who had dropped a flare.
Yabu, senior to Buntaro, was nominally in charge of the party. He had seen Kiri arrive and strutted back through the gate. Buntaro followed.
‘Oh, Lord Yabu—Lord Buntaro,’ Kiri said with a flustered bow. ‘I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. Lord Toranaga was going to come down, but in the end, decided not to. You are to leave now, he said. Please accept my apologies.’
‘None are necessary.’ Yabu wanted to be quit of the castle as soon as possible, and quit of Osaka, and back in Izu. He still could hardly believe that he was leaving with his head, with the barbarian, with the guns, with everything. He had sent urgent messages by carrier pigeon to his wife in Yedo to make sure that all was prepared at Mishima, his capital, and to Omi at the village of Anjiro. ‘Are you ready?’
Tears glittered in Kiri’s eyes. ‘Just let me catch my breath and then I’ll get into the litter. Oh, I wish I didn’t have to go!’ She looked around, seeking Blackthorne, finally catching sight of him in the shadows. ‘Who is responsible for the Anjin-san? Until we get to the ship?’
Buntaro said testily, ‘I’ve ordered him to walk beside my wife’s litter. If she can’t keep him in control, I will.’
‘Perhaps, Lord Yabu, you’d escort the Lady Sazuko—’
‘Guards!‘
The warning shout came from the forecourt. Buntaro and Yabu hurried through the fortified door as all the men swirled after them and others poured from the innerworks.
Ishido was approaching down the avenue between the castle walls at the head of two hundred Grays. He stopped in the forecourt outside the gate and, though no man seemed hostile on either side and no man had his hand on his sword or an arrow in his bow, all were ready.
Ishido bowed elaborately. ‘A fine evening, Lord Yabu.’
‘Yes, yes indeed.’
Ishido nodded perfunctorily to Buntaro, who was equally offhand, returning the minimum politeness allowable. Both had been favorite generals of the Taikō. Buntaro had led one of the regiments in Korea when Ishido had been in overall command. Each had accused the other of treachery. Only the personal intervention and a direct order of the Taikō had prevented bloodshed and a vendetta.
Ishido studied the Browns: Then his eyes found Blackthorne. He saw the man half bow and nodded in return. Through the gateway he could see the three women and the other litter. His eyes came to rest on Yabu again. ‘You’d think you were all going into battle, Yabu-san, instead of just being a ceremonial escort for the Lady Kiritsubo.’
‘Hiro-matsu-san issued orders, because of the Amida assassin. . . .’
Yabu stopped as Buntaro stomped pugnaciously forward and planted his huge legs in the center of the gateway. ‘We’re always ready for battle. With or without armor. We can take on ten men for each one of ours, and fifty of the Garlic Eaters. We never turn our backs and run like snot-nosed cowards, leaving our comrades to be overwhelmed!’
Ishido’s smile was filled with contempt, his voice a goad. ‘Oh? Perhaps you’ll get an opportunity soon—to stand against real men, not Garlic Eaters!’
‘How soon? Why not tonight? Why not here?’
Yabu moved carefully between them. He also had been in Korea and he knew that there was truth on both sides and that neither was to be trusted, Buntaro less than Ishido. ‘Not tonight because we’re among friends, Buntaro-san,’ he said placatingly, wanting desperately to avoid a clash that would lock them forever within the castle. ‘We’re among friends, Buntaro-san.’
‘What friends? I know friends—and I know enemies!’ Buntaro whirled back to Ishido. ‘Where’s this man—this real man you talked of, Ishido-san? Eh? Or men? Let him—let them all crawl out of their holes and stand in front of me—Toda Buntaro, Lord of Sakura—if any one of them’s got the juice!’
Everyone readied.
Ishido stared back malevolently.
Yabu said, ‘This is not the time, Buntaro-san. Friends or ene—’
‘Friends? Where? In this manure pile?’ Buntaro spat into the dust.
One of the Grays’ hands flashed for his sword hilt, ten Browns followed, fifty Grays were a split second behind, and now all were waiting for Ishido’s sword to come out to signal the attack.
Then Hiro-matsu walked out of the garden shadows, through the gateway into the forecourt, his killing sword loose in his hands and half out of its scabbard.
‘You can find friends in manure, sometimes, my son,’ he said calmly. Hands eased off sword hilts. Samurai on the opposing battlements—Grays and Browns—slackened the tension of their arrow-armed bowstrings. ‘We have friends all over the castle. All over Osaka. Yes. Our Lord Toranaga keeps telling us so.’ He stood like a rock in front of his only living son, seeing the blood lust in his eyes. The moment Ishido had been seen approaching, Hiro-matsu had taken up his battle station at the inner doorway. Then, when the first danger had passed, he had moved with catlike quiet into the shadows. He stared down into Buntaro’s eyes. ‘Isn’t that so, my son?’
With an enormous effort, Buntaro nodded and stepped back a pace. But he still blocked the way to the garden.
Hiro-matsu turned his attention to Ishido. ‘We did not expect you tonight, Ishido-san.’
‘I came to pay my respects to the Lady Kiritsubo. I was not informed until a few moments ago that anyone was leaving.’
‘Is my son right? We should worry we’re not among friends? Are we hostages who should beg favors?’
‘No. But Lord Toranaga and I agreed on protocol during his visit. A day’s notice of the arival or departure of high personages was to be given so I could pay the proper respects.’
‘It was a sudden decision of Lord Toranaga’s. He did not consider the matter of sending one of his ladies back to Yedo important enough to disturb you,’ Hiro-matsu told him. ‘Yes, Lord Toranaga is merely preparing for his own departure.’
‘Has that been decided upon?’
‘Yes. The day the meeting of the Regents concludes. You’ll be informed at the correct time, according to protocol.’
‘Good. Of course, the meeting may be delayed again. The Lord Kiyama is even sicker.’
‘Is it delayed? Or isn’t it?’
‘I merely mentioned that it might be. We hope to have the pleasure of Lord Toranaga’s presence for a long time to come, neh? He will hunt with me tomorrow?’
‘I have requested him to cancel all hunting until the meeting. I don’t consider it safe. I don’t consider any of this area safe any longer. If filthy assassins can get through your sentries so easily, how much more easy would treachery be outside the walls?’
Ishido let the insult pass. He knew this and the affronts would further inflame his men but it did not suit him to light the fuse yet. He had been glad that Hiro-matsu had interceded for he had almost lost control. The thought of Buntaro’s head in the dust, the teeth chattering, had consumed him. ‘All commanders of the guards on that night have already been ordered into the Great Void as you well know. The Amidas are laws unto themselves, unfortunately. But they will be stamped out very soon. The Regents will be asked to deal with them once and for all. Now, perhaps I may pay my respects to Kiritsubo-san.’
Ishido walked forward. His personal bodyguard of Grays stepped after him. They all shuddered to a stop. Buntaro had an arrow in his bow and, though the arrow pointed at the ground, the bow was already bent to its limit. ‘Grays are forbidden through this gate. That’s agreed by protocol!’
‘I’m Governor of Osaka Castle and Commander of the Heir’s Bodyguard! I have the right to go anywhere!’
Once more Hiro-matsu took control of the situation. ‘True, you are Commander of the Heir’s Bodyguard and you do have the right to go anywhere. But only five men may accompany you through that gate. Wasn’t that agreed by you and my Master while he is here?’
‘Five or fifty, it makes no difference! This insult is intol—’
‘Insult? My son means no insult. He’s following orders agreed by his liege Lord and by you. Five men. Five!’ The word was an order and Hiro-matsu turned his back on Ishido and looked at his son. ‘The Lord Ishido does us honor by wishing to pay respect to the Lady Kiritsubo.’
The old man’s sword was two inches out of its scabbard and no one was sure if it was to slash at Ishido if the fight began or to hack off his son’s head if he pointed the arrow. All knew that there was no affection between father and son, only a mutual respect for the other’s viciousness. ‘Well, my son, what do you say to the Commander of the Heir’s Bodyguard?’
The sweat was running down Buntaro’s face. After a moment he stepped aside and eased the tension off the bow. But he kept the arrow poised.
Many times Ishido had seen Buntaro in the competition lists firing arrows at two hundred paces, six arrows launched before the first hit the target, all equally accurate. He would happily have ordered the attack now and obliterated these two, the father and son, and all the rest. But he knew it would be the act of a fool to start with them and not with Toranaga, and, in any event, perhaps when the real war came Hiro-matsu would be tempted to leave Toranaga and fight with him. The Lady Ochiba had said she would approach old Iron Fist when the time came. She had sworn that he would never forsake the Heir, that she would weld Iron Fist to her, away from Toranaga, perhaps even get him to assassinate his master and so avoid any conflict. What hold, what secret, what knowledge does she have over him? Ishido asked himself again. He had ordered Lady Ochiba to be spirited out of Yedo, if it was possible, before the Regents’ meeting. Her life would not be worth a grain of rice after Toranaga’s impeachment—which all the other Regents had agreed upon. Impeachment and immediate seppuku, forced if need be. If she escapes, good. If not, never mind. The Heir will rule in eight years.
He strode through the gateway into the garden, Hiro-matsu and Yabu accompanying him. Five guards followed. He bowed politely and wished Kiritsubo well. Then, satisfied that all was as it should be, he turned and left with all his men.
Hiro-matsu exhaled and scratched his piles. ‘You’d better leave now, Yabu-san. That rice maggot’ll give you no more trouble.’
‘Yes. At once.’
Kiri kerchiefed the sweat off her brow. ‘He’s a devil kami! I’m afraid for our Master.’ The tears began to flow. ‘I don’t want to leave!’
‘No harm will come to Lord Toranaga, I promise you, Lady,’ Hiro-matsu said. ‘You must go. Now!’
Kiri tried to stifle her sobs and unloosed the thick veil that hung from the brim of her wide hat. ‘Oh, Yabu-sama, would you escort Lady Sazuko inside? Please?’
‘Of course.’
Lady Sazuko bowed and hurried off, Yabu following. The girl ran up the steps. As she neared the top she slipped and fell.
‘The baby!’ Kiri shrieked. ‘Is she hurt?’
All their eyes flashed to the prostrate girl. Mariko ran for her but Yabu reached her first. He picked her up. Sazuko was more startled than hurt. ‘I’m all right,’ she said, a little breathlessly. ‘Don’t worry, I’m perfectly all right. It was foolish of me.’
When he was sure, Yabu walked back to the forecourt preparing for instant departure.
Mariko came back to the gateway, greatly relieved. Blackthorne was gaping at the garden.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said after a pause. ‘What did Lady Kiritsubo shout out?’
”The baby! Is she hurt?’ The Lady Sazuko’s with child,’ she explained. ‘We were all afraid the fall might have hurt her.’
‘Toranaga-sama’s child?’
‘Yes,’ Mariko said, looking back at the litter.
Kiri was inside the closed translucent curtains now, the veil loosed. Poor woman, Mariko thought, knowing she was only trying to hide the tears. I would be equally terrified to leave my Lord, if I were she.
Her eyes went to Sazuko, who waved once more from the top of the steps, then went inside. The iron door clanged after her. That sounded like a death knell, Mariko thought. Will we ever see them again?
‘What did Ishido want?’ Blackthorne asked.
‘He was—I don’t know the correct word. He was investigating—making a tour of inspection without warning.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s Commander of the Castle,’ she said, not wishing to tell the real reason.
Yabu was shouting orders at the head of the column and set off. Mariko got into her litter, leaving the curtains partially open. Buntaro motioned Blackthorne to move aside. He obeyed.
They waited for Kiri’s litter to pass. Blackthorne stared at the half-seen, shrouded figure, hearing the muffled sobs. The two frightened maids, Asa and Sono, walked alongside. Then he glanced back a last time. Hiro-matsu was standing alone beside the little hut, leaning on his sword. Now the garden was shut from his view as samurai closed the huge fortified door. The great wooden bar fell into place. There were no guards in the forecourt now. They were all on the battlements.
‘What’s going on?’ Blackthorne asked.
‘Please, Anjin-san?’
‘It looks like they’re under siege. Browns against the Grays. Are they expecting trouble? More trouble?’
‘Oh, so sorry. It’s normal to close the doors at night,’ Mariko said.
He began to walk beside her as her litter moved off, Buntaro and the remainder of the rear guard taking up their station behind him. Blackthorne was watching the litter ahead, the swaying gait of the bearers and the misted figure inside the curtains. He was greatly unsettled though he tried to hide it. When Kiritsubo had suddenly shrieked, he had looked at her instantly. Everyone else was looking at the prostrate girl on the staircase. His impulse was to look over there as well but he saw Kiritsubo suddenly scuttle with surprising speed inside the little hut. For a moment he thought his eyes were playing him tricks because in the night her dark cloak and dark kimono and dark hat and dark veil made her almost invisible. He watched as the figure vanished for a moment, then reappeared, darted into the litter, and jerked the curtains closed. For an instant their eyes met. It was Toranaga.
