Shōgun (The Asian Saga Book 1)

‘Anjin-san-Anjin-san!’

Semiconscious, he allowed Mariko to help him drink some saké.  The column had halted, the Browns arranged tightly around the curtained litter, their escorting Grays ahead and behind.  Buntaro had shouted at one of the maids, who had immediately produced the flask from one of the baggage kagas, told his personal guards to keep everyone away from ‘Kiritsubo-san’s’ litter, then hurried to Mariko.  ‘Is the Anjin-san all right?’

‘Yes, yes, I think so,’ Mariko replied.  Yabu joined them.

To try to throw off the captain of the Grays, Yabu said carelessly, ‘We can go on, Captain.  We’ll leave a few men and Mariko-san.  When the barbarian’s recovered, she and the men can follow.’

‘With great deference, Yabu-san, we will wait.  I’m charged to deliver you all safely to the galley.  As one party,’ the captain told him.

They all looked down as Blackthorne choked slightly on the wine.  ‘Thanks,’ he croaked.  ‘Are we safe now?  Who else knows that—’

‘You’re safe now!’ she interrupted deliberately.  She had her back to the captain and she cautioned him with her eyes.  ‘Anjin-san, you’re safe now and there’s no need to worry.  Do you understand?  You had some kind of fit.  Just look around—you’re safe now!’

Blackthorne did as she ordered.  He saw the captain and the Grays and understood.  His strength was returning quickly now, helped by the wine.  ‘Sorry, senhora.  It was just panic, I think.  I must be getting old.  I go mad often and can never remember afterwards what happened.  Speaking Portuguese is exhausting, isn’t it?’  He switched to Latin.  ‘Canst thou understand?’

‘Assuredly.’

‘Is this tongue ‘easier’?’

‘Perhaps,’ she said, relieved that he understood the need for caution, even using Latin, which was to Japanese an almost incomprehensible and unlearnable language except to a handful of men in the Empire, all of whom would be Jesuit trained and most committed to the priesthood.  She was the only woman in all their world who could speak and read and write Latin and Portuguese.  ‘Both languages are difficult, each hath dangers.’

‘Who else knoweth the ‘dangers’?’

‘My husband and he who leads us.’

‘Art thou sure?’

‘Both indicated thusly.’

The captain of Grays shifted restlessly and said something to Mariko.

‘He asks if thou art yet dangerous, if thy hands and feet should be restrained.  I said no.  Thou art cured of thy palsy now.’

‘Yes,’ he said, lapsing back into Portuguese.  ‘I have fits often.  If someone hits me in the face it sends me mad.  I’m sorry.  Never can remember what happens during them.  It’s the Finger of God.’  He saw that the captain was concentrating on his lips and he thought, caught you, you bastard, I’ll bet you understand Portuguese.

Sono the maid had her head bent close to the litter curtains.  She listened, and came back to Mariko.

‘So sorry, Mariko-sama, but my Mistress asks if the madman is well enough to continue?  She asks if you would give him your litter because my Mistress feels we should hurry for the tide.  All the trouble that the madman has caused has made her even more upset.  But, knowing that the mad are only afflicted by the gods, she will say prayers for his return to health, and will personally give him medicines to cure him once we are aboard.’

Mariko translated.

‘Yes.  I’m all right now.’  Blackthorne got up and swayed on his feet.

Yabu barked a command.

‘Yabu-san says you will ride in the litter, Anjin-san.’  Mariko smiled when he began to protest.  ‘I’m really very strong and you needn’t worry, I’ll walk beside you so you can talk if you wish.’

He allowed himself to be helped into the litter.  At once they started again.  The rolling gait was soothing and he lay back depleted.  He waited until the captain of the Grays had strode away to the head of the column, then whispered in Latin, warning her, ‘That centurion understandeth the other tongue.’

‘Aye.  And I believe some Latin also,’ she whispered back as quietly.  She walked for a moment.  ‘In seriousness, thou art a brave man.  I thank thee for saving him.’

‘Thou hadst stronger bravery.’

‘No, the Lord God hath placed my feet onto the path, and rendered me a little useful.  Again I thank thee.’

The city by night was a fairyland.  The rich houses had many colored lanterns, oil-lit and candle-lit, hanging over their gateways and in their gardens, the shoji screens giving off a delightful translucence.  Even the poor houses were mellowed by the shojis.  Lanterns lit the way of pedestrians and kagas, and of samurai, who rode horseback.

‘We burn oil for lamps in the houses as well as candles, but with the coming of night, most people go to bed,’ Mariko explained as they continued through the city streets, winding and curling, the pedestrians bowing and the very poor on their knees until they had passed, the sea glittering in the moonlight.

‘It’s the same with us.  How do you cook?  Over a wood stove?’  Blackthorne’s strength had returned quickly and his legs no longer felt like jelly.  She had refused to take the litter back, so he lay there, enjoying the air and the conversation.

‘We use a charcoal brazier.  We don’t eat foods like you do, so our cooking is more simple.  Just rice and a little fish, raw mostly, or cooked over charcoal with a sharp sauce and pickled vegetables, a little soup perhaps.  No meat—never meat.  We’re a frugal people—we have to be, only so little of our land, perhaps a fifth of our soil, can be cultivated—and we’re many.  With us it’s a virtue to be frugal, even in the amount of food we eat.’

‘Thou art brave.  I thank thee.  The arrows flew not, because of the shield of thy back.’

‘No, Captain of Ships.  It cometh from the will of God.’

‘Thou art brave and thou art beautiful.’

She walked in silence for a moment.  No one has ever called me beautiful before—no one, she thought.  ‘I am not brave and I am not beautiful.  Swords are beautiful.  Honor is beautiful.’

‘Courage is beautiful and thou hast it in abundance.’

Mariko did not answer.  She was remembering this morning and all the evil words and evil thoughts.  How can a man be so brave and so stupid, so gentle and so cruel, so warming and so detestable—all at the same time?  The Anjin-san was limitlessly brave to take Ishido’s attention off the litter, and completely clever to feign madness and so lead Toranaga out of the trap.  How wise of Toranaga to escape this way!  But be cautious, Mariko, she warned herself.  Think about Toranaga and not about this stranger.  Remember his evil and stop the moist warmth in your loins that you have never had before, the warmth courtesans talk about and storybooks and pillowbooks describe.

‘Aye,’ she said.  ‘Courage is beautiful and thou hast it in abundance.’  Then she turned to Portuguese once more.  ‘Latin is such a tiring language.’

‘You learned it in school?’

‘No, Anjin-san, it was later.  After I was married I lived in the far north for quite a long time.  I was alone, except for servants and villagers, and the only books I had were Portuguese and Latin—some grammars and religious books, and a Bible.  Learning the languages passed the time very well, and occupied my mind.  I was very fortunate. ‘

‘Where was your husband?’

‘At war.’

‘How long were you alone?’

‘We have a saying that time has no single measure, that time can be like frost or lightning or a tear or siege or storm or sunset, or even like a rock.’

‘That’s a wise saying,’ he told her.  Then added, ‘Your Portuguese is very good, senhora.  And your Latin.  Better than mine.’

‘You have a honeyed tongue, Anjin-san!’

‘It’s honto!‘

‘Honto is a good word. The honto is that one day a Christian Father came to the village.  We were like two lost souls.  He stayed for four years and helped me immensely.  I’m glad I can speak well,’ she said, without vanity.  ‘My father wanted me to learn the languages.’

‘Why?’

‘He thought we should know the devil with which we had to deal.’

‘He was a wise man.’

‘No.  Not wise.’

‘Why?’

‘One day I will tell you the story.  It’s a sadness.’

‘Why were you alone for a rock of time?’

‘Why don’t you rest?  We have a long way to go yet.’

‘Do you want to ride?’  Again he began to get up but she shook her head.

‘No, thank you.  Please stay where you are.  I enjoy walking.’

‘All right.  But you don’t want to talk anymore?’

‘If it pleases you we can talk.  What do you want to know?’

‘Why were you alone for a rock of time?’

‘My husband sent me away.  My presence had offended him.  He was perfectly correct to do this.  He honored me by not divorcing me.  Then he honored me even more by accepting me and our son back again.’  Mariko looked at him.  ‘My son is fifteen now.  I’m really an old lady.’

‘I don’t believe you, senhora.’

‘It’s honto.‘

‘How old were you when you were married?’

‘Old, Anjin-san.  Very old.’

‘We have a saying: Age is like frost or siege or sunset, even sometimes like a rock.’  She laughed.  Everything about her is so graceful, he thought, mesmerized by her.  ‘On you, Venerable Lady, old age sits prettily.’

‘For a woman, Anjin-san, old age is never pretty.’

‘Thou art wise as thou art beautiful.’  The Latin came too easily and though it sounded more formal and more regal, it was more intimate.  Watch yourself, he thought.

No one has ever called me beautiful before, she repeated to herself.  I wish it were true.  ‘Here it is not wise to notice another man’s woman,’ she said.  ‘Our customs are quite severe.  For example, if a married woman is found alone with a man in a room with the door closed—just if they are alone and talking privately—by law her husband or his brother or his father has the right to put her to death instantly.  If the girl is unmarried, the father can, of course, always do with her as he pleases.’

‘That’s not fair or civilized.’  He regretted the slip instantly.

‘We find ourselves quite civilized, Anjin-san.’  Mariko was glad to be insulted again, for it had broken the spell and dispelled the warmth.  ‘Our laws are very wise.  There are far too many women, free and unattached, for a man to take one who belongs elsewhere.  It’s a protection for women, in truth.  A wife’s duty is solely to her husband.  Be patient.  You’ll see how civilized, how advanced we are.  Women have a place, men have a place.  A man may have only one official wife at one time—but of course, many consorts—but women here have much more freedom than Spanish or Portuguese ladies, from what I’ve been told.  We can go freely where we please, when we please.  We may leave our husbands, if we wish, divorce them.  We may refuse to marry in the first place, if we wish.  We own our own wealth and property, our bodies and our spirits.  We have tremendous powers if we wish.  Who looks after all your wealth, your money, in your household?’

‘I do, naturally.’

‘Here the wife looks after everything.  Money is nothing to a samurai.  It’s beneath contempt to a real man.  I manage all my husband’s affairs.  He makes all the decisions.  I merely carry out his wishes and pay his bills.  This leaves him totally free to do his duty to his lord, which is his sole duty.  Oh, yes, Anjin-san, you must be patient before you criticize.’

‘It wasn’t meant as a criticism, senhora.  It’s just that we believe in the sanctity of life, that no one can lightly be put to death unless a law court—the Queen’s law court—agrees.’

She refused to allow herself to be soothed.  ‘You say a lot of things I don’t understand, Anjin-san.  But didn’t you say ‘not fair and not civilized’?’

‘Yes.’

‘That then is a criticism, neh?  Lord Toranaga asked me to point out it’s unseemly to criticize without knowledge.  You must remember our civilization, our culture, is thousands of years old.  Three thousand of these are documented.  Oh yes, we are an ancient people.  As ancient as China.  How many years does your culture go back?’

‘Not long, senhora.’

‘Our Emperor, Go-Nijo, is the one hundred and seventh of his unbroken line, right back to Jimmu-tenno, the first earthling, who was descended from the five generations of terrestrial spirits and, before them, the seven generations of celestial spirits who came from Kuni-toko-tachi-noh-Mikoto—the first spirit—who appeared when the earth was split from the heavens.  Not even China can claim such a history.  How many generations have your kings ruled your land?’

‘Our Queen’s the third of the Tudor line, senhora.  But she’s old now and childless so she’s the last.’

‘One hundred and seven generations, Anjin-san, back to divinity,’ she repeated proudly.

‘If you believe that, senhora, how can you also say you’re Catholic?’  He saw her bridle, then shrug.

‘I am only a ten-year Christian and therefore a novice, and though I believe in the Christian God, in God the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, with all my heart, our Emperor is directly descended from the gods or from God.  He is divine.  There are a lot of things I cannot explain or understand.  But the divinity of my Emperor is without question.  Yes, I am Christian, but first I am a Japanese.’

Is this the key to all of you?  That first you are Japanese? he asked himself.  He had watched her, astonished by what she was saying.  Their customs are insane!  Money means nothing to a real man?  That explains why Toranaga was so contemptuous when I mentioned money at the first meeting.  One hundred and seven generations?  Impossible!  Instant death just for being innocently in a closed room with a woman?  That’s barbarism—an open invitation to murder.  They advocate and admire murder!  Isn’t that what Rodrigues said?  Isn’t that what Omi-san did?  Didn’t he just murder that peasant?  By Christ’s blood, I haven’t thought of Omi-san for days.  Or the village.  Or the pit or being on my knees in front of him.  Forget him, listen to her, be patient as she says, ask her questions because she’ll supply the means to bend Toranaga to your plan.  Now Toranaga is absolutely in your debt.  You saved him.  He knows it, everyone knows it.  Didn’t she thank you, not for saving her but for saving him?

The column was moving through the city heading for the sea.  He saw Yabu keeping the pace up and momentarily Pieterzoon’s screams came soaring into his head.  ‘One thing at a time,’ he muttered, half to himself.

‘Yes,’ Mariko was saying.  ‘It must be very difficult for you.  Our world is so very different from yours.  Very different but very wise.’  She could see the dim figure of Toranaga within the litter ahead and she thanked God again for his escape.  How to explain to the barbarian about us, to compliment him for his bravery?  Toranaga had ordered her to explain, but how?  ‘Let me tell you a story, Anjin-san.  When I was young my father was a general for a daimyo called Goroda.  At that time Lord Goroda was not the great Dictator but a daimyo still struggling for power.  My father invited this Goroda and his chief vassals to a feast.  It never occurred to him that there was no money to buy all the food and saké and lacquerware and tatamis that such a visit, by custom, demanded.  Lest you think my mother was a bad manager, she wasn’t.  Every groat of my father’s revenue went to his own vassal samurai and although, officially, he had only enough for four thousand warriors, by scrimping and saving and manipulating my mother saw that he led five thousand three hundred into battle to the glory of his liege lord.  We, the family—my mother, my father’s consorts, my brothers and sisters—we had barely enough to eat.  But what did that matter?  My father and his men had the finest weapons and the finest horses, and they gave of their best to their lord.

‘Yes, there was not enough money for this feast, so my mother went to the wigmakers in Kyoto and sold them her hair.  I remember it was like molten darkness and hung to the pit of her back.  But she sold it.  The wigmakers cut it off the same day and gave her a cheap wig and she bought everything that was necessary and saved the honor of my father.  It was her duty to pay the bills and she paid.  She did her duty.  For us duty is all important.’

‘What did he say, your father, when he found out?’

‘What should he say, other than to thank her?  It was her duty to find the money.  To save his honor.’

‘She must have loved him very much.’

‘Love is a Christian word, Anjin-san.  Love is a Christian thought, a Christian ideal.  We have no word for ‘love’ as I understand you to mean it.  Duty, loyalty, honor, respect, desire, those words and thoughts are what we have, all that we need.’  She looked at him and in spite of herself, she relived the instant when he had saved Toranaga, and through Toranaga, her husband.  Never forget they were both trapped there, they would both be dead now, but for this man.

She made sure that no one was near.  ‘Why did you do what you did?’

‘I don’t know.  Perhaps because . . .’  He stopped.  There were so many things he could say: ‘Perhaps because Toranaga was helpless and I didn’t want to get chopped. . . . Because if he was discovered we’d all be caught in the mess. . . . Because I knew that no one knew except me and it was up to me to gamble. . . . Because I didn’t want to die—there’s too much to do to waste my life, and Toranaga’s the only one who can give me back my ship and my freedom.’  Instead he replied in Latin, ‘Because He hath said, render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.’

‘Aye,’ she said, and added in the same language, ‘aye, that is what I was attempting to say.  To Caesar those things, and to God those things.  It is thusly with us.  God is God and our Emperor is from God.  And Caesar is Caesar, to be honored as Caesar.’  Then, touched by his understanding and the tenderness in his voice, she said, ‘Thou art wise.  Sometimes I think thou understandst more than thou sayest.’

Aren’t you doing what you swore you would never do? Blackthorne asked himself.  Aren’t you playing the hypocrite?  Yes and no.  I owe them nothing.  I’m a prisoner.  They’ve stolen my ship and my goods and murdered one of my men.  They’re heathen—well, some of them are heathen and the rest are Catholics.  I owe nothing to heathens and Catholics.  But you’d like to bed her and you were complimenting her, weren’t you?

God curse all consciences!

The sea was nearer now, half a mile away.  He could see many ships, and the Portuguese frigate with her riding lights.  She’d make quite a prize.  With twenty bully boys I could take her.  He turned back to Mariko.  Strange woman, from a strange family.  Why did she offend Buntaro—that baboon?  How could she bed with that, or marry that?  What is the ‘sadness’?

‘Senhora,’ he said, keeping his voice gentle, ‘your mother must have been a rare woman.  To do that.’

‘Yes.  But because of what she did, she will live forever.  Now she is legend.  She was as samurai as—as my father was samurai.’

‘I thought only men were samurai.’

‘Oh, no, Anjin-san.  Men and women are equally samurai, warriors with responsibilities to their lords.  My mother was true samurai, her dutifulness to her husband exceeded everything.’

‘She’s at your home now?’

‘No.  Neither she nor my father nor any of my brothers or sisters or family.  I am the last of my line.’

‘There was a catastrophe?’

Mariko suddenly felt tired.  I’m tired of speaking Latin and foul-sounding Portuguese and tired of being a teacher, she told herself.

I’m not a teacher.  I’m only a woman who knows her duty and wants to do it in peace.  I want none of that warmth again and none of this man who unsettles me so much.  I want none of him.

‘In a way, Anjin-san, it was a catastrophe.  One day I will tell you about it.’  She quickened her pace slightly and walked away, nearer to the other litter.  The two maids smiled nervously.

‘Have we far to go, Mariko-san?’ Sono asked.

‘I hope not too far,’ she said reassuringly.

The captain of Grays loomed abruptly out of the darkness on the other side of the litter.  She wondered how much that she had said to the Anjin-san had been overheard.

‘You’d like a kaga, Mariko-san?  Are you getting tired?’ the captain asked.

‘No, no thank you.’  She slowed deliberately, drawing him away from Toranaga’s litter.  ‘I’m not tired at all.’

‘The barbarian’s behaving himself?  He’s not troubling you?’

‘Oh, no.  He seems to be quite calm now.’

‘What were you talking about?’

‘All sorts of things.  I was trying to explain some of our laws and customs to him.’  She motioned back to the castle donjon that was etched against the sky above.  ‘Lord Toranaga asked me to try to get some sense into him.’

‘Ah yes, Lord Toranaga.’  The captain looked briefly at the castle, then back to Blackthorne.  ‘Why’s Lord Toranaga so interested in him, Lady?’

‘I don’t know.  I suppose because he’s an oddity.’

They turned a corner, into another street, with houses behind garden walls.  There were few people about.  Beyond were wharves and the sea.  Masts sprouted over the buildings and the air was thick with the smell of seaweed.  ‘What else did you talk about?’

‘They’ve some very strange ideas.  They think of money all the time.’

‘Rumor says his whole nation’s made up of filthy merchant pirates.  Not a samurai among them.  What’s Lord Toranaga want with him?’

‘So sorry, I don’t know.’

‘Rumor says he’s Christian, he claims to be Christian.  Is he?’

‘Not our sort of Christian, Captain.  You’re Christian, Captain?’

‘My Master’s Christian so I am Christian.  My Master is Lord Kiyama.’

‘I have the honor to know him well.  He honored my husband by betrothing one of his granddaughters to my son.’

‘Yes, I know, Lady Toda.’

‘Is Lord Kiyama better now?  I understand the doctors won’t allow anyone to see him.’

‘I haven’t seen him for a week.  None of us has.  Perhaps it’s the Chinese pox.  God protect him from that, and God curse all Chinese!’  He glared toward Blackthorne.  ‘Doctors say these barbarians brought the pest to China, to Macao, and thence to our shores.’

‘Sumus omnes in manu Dei,‘ she said.  We are all in the hands of God.

‘Ita, amen,‘ the captain replied without thinking, falling into the trap.

Blackthorne had caught the slip also and he saw a flash of anger on the captain’s face and heard him say something through his teeth to Mariko, who flushed and stopped also.  He slid out of the litter and walked back to them.  ‘If thou speakest Latin, Centurion, then it would be a kindness if thou wouldst speak a little with me.  I am eager to learn about this great country of thine.’

‘Yes, I can speak thy tongue, foreigner.’

‘It is not my tongue, Centurion, but that of the Church and of all educated people in my world.  Thou speakest it well.  How and when did thou learn?’

The cortege was passing them and all the samurai, both Grays and Browns, were watching them.  Buntaro, near Toranaga’s litter, stopped and turned back.  The captain hesitated, then began walking again and Mariko was glad that Blackthorne had joined them.  They walked in silence a moment.

‘The Centurion speaks the tongue fluidly, splendidly, doesn’t he?’ Blackthorne said to Mariko.

‘Yes, indeed.  Didst thou learn it in a seminary, Centurion?’

‘And thou, foreigner,’ the captain said coldly, paying her no attention, loathing the recollection of the seminary at Macao that he had been ordered into as a child by Kiyama to learn the languages.  ‘Now that we speak directly, tell me with simplicity why did thou ask this lady: ‘Who else knoweth . . .’  Who else knoweth what?’

‘I recollect not.  My mind was wandering.’

‘Ah, wandering, eh?  Then why didst thou say: ‘Things of Caesar render to Caesar’?’

‘It was just a pleasantry.  I was in discussion with this lady, who tells illuminating stories that are sometimes difficult to understand.’

‘Yes, there is much to understand.  What sent thee mad at the gate?  And why didst thou recover so quickly from thy fit?’

‘That came through the beneficence of God.’

They were walking beside the litter once more, the captain furious that he had been trapped so easily.  He had been forewarned by Lord Kiyama, his master, that the woman was filled with boundless cleverness: ‘Don’t forget she carries the taint of treachery throughout her whole being, and the pirate’s spawned by the devil Satan.  Watch, listen, and remember.  Perhaps she’ll impeach herself and become a further witness against Toranaga for the Regents.  Kill the pirate the moment the ambush begins.’

The arrows came out of the night and the first impaled the captain through the throat and, as he felt his lungs fill with molten fire and death swallowing him, his last thought was one of wonder because the ambush was not to have been here in this street but further on, down beside the wharves, and the attack was not to be against them but against the pirate.

Another arrow had slammed into the litter post an inch from Blackthorne’s head.  Two arrows had pierced the closed curtains of Kiritsubo’s litter ahead, and another had struck the girl Asa in the waist.  As she began screaming, the bearers dropped the litters and took to their heels in the darkness.  Blackthorne rolled for cover, taking Mariko with him into the lee of the tumbled litter, Grays and Browns scattering.  A shower of arrows straddled both litters.  One thudded into the ground where Mariko had been the instant before.  Buntaro was covering Toranaga’s litter with his body as best he could, an arrow stuck into the back of his leather-chainmail-bamboo armor, and then, when the volley ceased, he rushed forward and ripped the curtains apart.  The two arrows were imbedded in Toranaga’s chest and side but he was unharmed and he jerked the barbs out of the protective armor he wore beneath the kimono.  Then he tore off the wide-brimmed hat and the wig.  Buntaro searched the darkness for the enemy, on guard, an arrow ready in his bow, while Toranaga fought out of the curtains and, pulling his sword from under the coverlet, leapt to his feet.  Mariko started to scramble to help Toranaga but Blackthorne pulled her back with a shout of warning as again arrows bracketed the litters, killing two Browns and a Gray.  Another came so close to Blackthorne that it took the skin off his cheek.  Another pinned the skirt of his kimono to the earth.  The maid, Sono, was beside the writhing girl, who was bravely holding back her screams.  Then Yabu shouted and pointed and charged.  Dim figures could be seen on one of the tiled roofs.  A last volley whooshed out of the darkness, always at the litters.  Buntaro and other Browns blocked their path to Toranaga.  One man died.  A shaft ripped through a joint in Buntaro’s shoulder armor and he grunted with pain.  Yabu and Browns and Grays were near the wall now in pursuit but the ambushers vanished into the blackness, and though a dozen Browns and Grays raced for the corner to head them off, all knew that it was hopeless.  Blackthorne groped to his feet and helped Mariko up.  She was shaken but untouched.

‘Thank you,’ she said, and hurried over to Toranaga to help screen him from Grays.  Buntaro was shouting to some of his men to douse the flares near the litters.  Then one of the Grays said, ‘Toranaga!’ and though it was spoken quietly everyone heard.

In the flickering light of the flares, the sweat-streaked makeup made Toranaga seem grotesque.

One of the officer Grays bowed hastily.  Here, incredibly, was the enemy of his master, free, outside the castle walls.  ‘You will wait here, Lord Toranaga.  You,’ he snapped at one of his men, ‘report to Lord Ishido at once,’ and the man raced away.

‘Stop him,’ Toranaga said quietly.  Buntaro launched two arrows.  The man fell dying.  The officer whipped out his two-handed sword and leaped for Toranaga with a screaming battle cry but Buntaro was ready and parried the blow.  Simultaneously the Browns and the Grays, all intermixed, jerked out their swords and jumped for space.  The street erupted into a swirling melee.  Buntaro and the officer were well matched, feinting and slashing.  Suddenly a Gray broke from the pack and charged for Toranaga but Mariko immediately picked up a flare, ran forward, and shoved it into the officer’s face.  Buntaro hacked his assailant in two, then whirled and ripped the second man apart, and cut down another who was trying to reach Toranaga as Mariko darted back out of the way, a sword now in her hands, her eyes never leaving Toranaga or Buntaro, his monstrous bodyguard.

Four Grays banded together and hurled themselves at Blackthorne, who was still rooted near his litter.  Helplessly he saw them coming.  Yabu and a Brown leaped to intercept, fighting demonically.  Blackthorne jumped away, grabbed a flare, and using it as a whirling mace, threw the attackers momentarily off balance.  Yabu killed one, maimed another, then four Browns rushed back to dispose of the last two Grays.  Without hesitation Yabu and the wounded Brown hurled themselves into the attack once more, protecting Toranaga.  Blackthorne ran forward and picked up a long half-sword, half-spear and raced nearer to Toranaga.  Toranaga alone stood motionless, his sword sheathed, in the screaming fracas.

The Grays fought courageously.  Four joined in a suicidal charge at Toranaga.  The Browns broke it and pressed their advantage.  The Grays regrouped and charged again.  Then a senior officer ordered three to retreat for help and the rest to guard the retreat.  The three Grays tore off, and though they were pursued and Buntaro shot one, two escaped.

The rest died.