Mariko was walking up the crowded sunlit avenue toward the gates in the cul-de-sac. Behind her was a body guard of ten Browns. She wore a pale green kimono and white gloves and a wide-brimmed dark green traveling hat tied with a golden net scarf under her chin, and she shaded herself with an iridescent sun shade. The gates swung open and stayed open.
It was very quiet in the avenue. Grays lined both sides and all the battlements. She could see the Anjin-san on their own battlements, Yabu beside him, and in the courtyard the waiting column with Kiri there, and the Lady Sazuko. All the Browns were in full ceremonials in the forecourt under Yoshinaka, except twenty who stood on the battlements with Blackthorne and two to each window overlooking the forecourt.
Unlike the Grays, none of the Browns had armor or carried bows. Swords were their only weapons.
Many women, samurai women, were also watching, some from the windows of other fortified houses that lined the avenue, and some from battlements. Others stood in the avenue among the Grays, a few gaily dressed children with them. All of the women carried sunshades though some wore samurai swords, as was their right if they wished.
Kiyama was near the gate with half a hundred of his own men, not Grays.
‘Good day, Sire,’ Mariko said to him, and bowed. He bowed back and she passed through the archway.
‘Hello, Kiri-chan, Sazuko-chan. How pretty you both look! Is everything ready?’
‘Yes,’ they replied with false cheeriness.
‘Good.’ Mariko got into her open palanquin and sat, stiff-backed. ‘Yoshinaka-san! Please begin.’
At once the captain limped forward and shouted the orders. Twenty Browns formed up as a vanguard and moved off. Porters picked up Mariko’s curtainless palanquin and followed the Browns through the gate, Kiri’s and Lady Sazuko’s close behind, the young girl holding her infant in her arms.
When Mariko’s palanquin came into the sunlight outside their walls, a captain of Grays stepped forward between the vanguard and the palanquin, and stood directly in her way. The vanguard stopped abruptly. So did the porters.
‘Please excuse me,’ he said to Yoshinaka, ‘but may I see your papers?’
‘So sorry, Captain, but we require none,’ Yoshinaka replied in the great silence.
‘So sorry, but the Lord General Ishido, Governor of the Castle, Captain of the Heir’s Bodyguard, with the approval of the Regents, has instituted orders throughout the castle which have to be complied with.’
Mariko said formally, ‘I am Toda Mariko-noh-Buntaro and I have been ordered by my liege Lord, Lord Toranaga, to escort his ladies to meet him. Kindly let us pass.’
‘I would be glad to, Lady,’ the samurai said proudly, planting his feet, ‘but without papers our liege Lord says no one may leave Osaka Castle. Please excuse me.’
Mariko said, ‘Captain, what is your name please?’
‘Sumiyori Danzenji, Lady, Captain of the Fourth Legion, and my line is as ancient as your own.’
‘So sorry, Captain Sumiyori, but if you do not move out of the way I will order you killed.’
‘You will not pass without papers!’
‘Please kill him, Yoshinaka-san.’
Yoshinaka leaped forward without hesitation, his sword a whirling arc, and he struck at the off-balanced Gray. His blade bit deep into the man’s side and was jerked out instantly, and the second more vicious blow took off the man’s head, which rolled in the dust a little way before stopping.
Yoshinaka wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. ‘Lead on!’ he ordered the vanguard. ‘Hurry up!’ The vanguard formed up again and, their footsteps echoing, they marched off. Then, out of nowhere, an arrow thwanged into Yoshinaka’s chest. The cortege lurched to a stop. Yoshinaka tore at the shaft silently for a moment, then his eyes glazed and he toppled.
A small moan broke from Kiri’s lips. A puff of air tugged at the ends of Mariko’s gossamer scarf. Somewhere in the avenue a child’s cries were hushed. Everyone waited breathlessly.
‘Miyai Kazuko-san,’ Mariko called out. ‘Please take charge.’
Kazuko was young and tall and very proud, clean-shaven, with deepset cheeks, and he came from the grouped Browns near Kiyama who stood beside the gateway. He strode past Kiri’s and Sazuko’s litters to stand beside Mariko’s and bowed formally. ‘Yes, Lady. Thank you.’
‘You!’ He shouted to the men ahead. ‘Move off!’ Taut, some fearful, all frantic, they obeyed and once again the procession began, Kazuko walking beside Mariko’s litter. Then, a hundred paces in front of them, twenty Grays moved out of the massed ranks of samurai and stood silently across the roadway. The twenty Browns closed the gap. Then someone faltered and the vanguard trickled to a stop.
‘Clear them out of the way!’ Kazuko shouted.
Immediately one Brown leaped forward, and the others followed and the killing became swift and cruel. Each time a Gray fell, another would calmly walk out of the waiting pack to join his comrades in the killing. It was always fair, always evenly matched, man to man, now fifteen against fifteen, now eight against eight, a few wounded Grays thrashing in the dirt, now three Browns against two Grays and another Gray strode out, and soon it was one to one, the last Brown, blood-stained and wounded, already victor of four duels. The last Gray dispatched him easily and stood alone among the bodies and looked at Miyai Kazuko.
All the Browns were dead. Four Grays lay wounded, eighteen dead.
Kazuko went forward, unsheathing his sword in the enormous hush.
‘Wait,’ Mariko said. ‘Please wait, Kazuko-san.’
He stopped but kept his eyes on the Gray, spoiling for the fight. Mariko stepped out of the palanquin and went back to Kiyama. ‘Lord Kiyama, I formally ask you please to order those men out of the way.’
‘So sorry, Toda-sama, the castle orders must be obeyed. The orders are legal. But if you wish, I will call a meeting of the Regents and ask for a ruling.’
‘I am samurai. My orders are clear, in keeping with bushido and sanctified by our code. They must be obeyed and overrule legally any man-made ordinance. The law may upset reason, but reason may not overthrow the law. If I am not permitted to obey, I will not be able to live with that shame.’
‘I will call an immediate meeting.’
‘Please excuse me, Sire, what you do is your own business. I am concerned only with my Lord’s orders and my own shame.’ She turned and went quietly back to the head of the column. ‘Kazuko-san! I order you please to lead us out of the castle!’
He walked forward. ‘I am Miyai Kazuko, Captain, from the line Serata, of Lord Toranaga’s Third Army. Please get out of the way.’
‘I am Biwa Jiro, Captain, of Lord General Ishido’s garrison. My life is worthless, even so you will not pass,’ the Gray said.
With the sudden roaring battle cry of ‘Toranagaaaaaa!’ Kazuko rushed to the fray. Their swords shrieked as the blows and counterblows were parried. The two men circled. The Gray was good, very good, and so was Kazuko. Their swords rang out in the clash. No one else moved.
Kazuko conquered but he was very badly wounded and he stood over his enemy, swaying on his feet, and with his good arm he shook his sword at the sky, bellowing his war cry, gloating in his victory, ‘Toranagaaaaa!’ There was no cheering at his conquest. All knew it would be unseemly in the ritual that enveloped them now.
Kazuko forced one foot forward, then another, and, stumbling, he ordered, ‘Follow me!’ his voice crumbling.
No one saw where the arrows came from but they slaughtered him. And the mood of the Browns changed from fatalism to ferocity at this insult to Kazuko’s manhood. He was already dying fast, and would have fallen soon, alone, still doing his duty, still leading them out of the castle. Another officer of the Browns ran forward with twenty men to form a new vanguard and the rest swarmed around Mariko, Kiri, and Lady Sazuko.
‘Forward!’ the officer snarled.
He stepped off and the twenty silent samurai came after him. Like somnambulists, the porters picked up their burdens and stumbled around the bodies. Then ahead, a hundred paces, twenty more Grays with an officer moved silently from the hundreds that waited. The porters stopped. The vanguard quickened their pace.
‘Halt!’ The officers bowed curtly to each other and said their lineage.
‘Please get out of the way.’
‘Please show me your papers.’
This time the Browns hurtled forward at once with cries of ‘Toranagaaaaaa!’ to be answered by ‘Yaemooooonn!’ and the carnage began. And each time a Gray fell, another would walk out coolly until all the Browns were dead.
The last Gray wiped his blade clean and sheathed it and stood alone barring the path. Another officer came forward with twenty Browns from the company behind the litters.
‘Wait,’ Mariko ordered. Ashen, she stepped out of her palanquin and put her sunshade aside and picked up Yoshinaka’s sword, unsheathed it, and walked forward alone.
‘You know who I am. Please get out of my way.’
‘I am Kojima Harutomo, Sixth Legion, Captain. Please excuse me, you may not pass, Lady,’ the Gray said with pride.
She darted forward but her blow was contained. The Gray backed and stayed on the defensive though he could have killed her without effort. He retreated slowly down the avenue, she following, but he made her work for every foot. Hesitantly the column started after her. Again she tried to bring the Gray to battle, cutting, thrusting, always attacking fiercely, but the samurai slid away, avoiding her blows, holding her off, not attacking, allowing her to exhaust herself. But he did this gravely, with dignity, giving her every courtesy, giving her the honor that was her due. She attacked again but he parried the onslaught that would have overcome a lesser swordsman, and backed another pace. The perspiration streamed from her. A Brown started forward to help but his officer quietly ordered him to stop, knowing that no one could interefere. Samurai on both sides waited for the signal, craving the release to kill.
In the crowd, a child was hiding his eyes in his mother’s skirts. Gently she pried him away and knelt. ‘Please watch, my son,’ she murmured. ‘You are samurai.’
Mariko knew she could not last much longer. She was panting now from her exertions and could feel the brooding malevolence surrounding her. Then ahead and all around, Grays began to ease away from the walls and the noose around the column quickly tightened. A few Grays walked out to try to surround her and she stopped advancing, knowing that she could, too easily, be trapped and disarmed and captured, which would destroy everything at once. Now Browns moved up to assist her and the rest took positions around the litters. The mood in the avenue was ominous now, every man committed, the sweet smell of blood in their nostrils. The column was strung out from the gateway and Mariko saw how easy it would be for the Grays to cut them all off if they wished and leave them stranded in the roadway.
‘Wait!’ she called out. Everyone stopped. She half-bowed to her assailant, then, head high, turned her back on him and walked back to Kiri. ‘So . . . so sorry, but it is not possible to fight through these men, at the moment,’ she said, her chest heaving. ‘We . . . we must go back for a moment.’ Sweat was streaking her face as she went down the line of men. When she came to Kiyama, she stopped and bowed. ‘Those men have prevented me from doing my duty, from obeying my liege Lord. I cannot live with shame, Sire. I will commit seppuku at sunset. I formally beg you to be my second.’
‘No. You will not do this.’
Her eyes flashed and her voice rang out fearlessly. ‘Unless we are allowed to obey our liege Lord, as is our right, I will commit seppuku at sunset!’
She bowed and walked toward the gateway. Kiyama bowed to her and his men did likewise. Then all in the avenue and on the battlements and at the windows, all bowed to her in homage. She went through the archway, across the forecourt into the garden. Her footsteps took her to the secluded, rustic little cha house. She went inside and, once alone, she wept silently for all the men who had died.
