Shōgun (The Asian Saga Book 1)

‘You’re certain everything’s ready, Mura?’

‘Yes, Omi-san, yes, I think so.  We’ve followed your orders exactly—and Igurashi-san’s.’

‘Nothing had better go wrong or there’ll be another headman by sunset,’ Igurashi, Yabu’s chief lieutenant, told him with great sourness, his one eye bloodshot from lack of sleep.  He had arrived yesterday from Yedo with the first contingent of samurai and with specific instructions.

Mura did not reply, just nodded deferentially and kept his eyes on the ground.

They were standing on the foreshore, near the jetty, in front of the kneeling rows of silent, overawed, and equally exhausted villagers—every man, woman, and child, except for the bed-ridden—waiting for the galley to arrive.  All wore their best clothes.  Faces were scrubbed, the whole village swept and sparkling and made wholesome as though this were the day before New Year when, by ancient custom, all the Empire was cleaned.  Fishing boats were meticulously marshaled, nets tidy, ropes coiled.  Even the beach along the bay had been raked.

‘Nothing will go wrong, Igurashi-san,’ Omi said.  He had had little sleep this last week, ever since Yabu’s orders had come from Osaka via one of Toranaga’s carrier pigeons.  At once he had mobilized the village and every able-bodied man within twenty ri to prepare Anjiro for the arrival of the samurai and Yabu.  And now that Igurashi had whispered the very private secret, for his ears only, that the great daimyo Toranaga was accompanying his uncle and had successfully escaped Ishido’s trap, he was more than pleased he had expended so much money.  ‘There’s no need for you to worry, Igurashi-san.  This is my fief and my responsibility.’

‘I agree.  Yes, it is.’  Igurashi waved Mura contemptuously away.  And then he added quietly, ‘You’re responsible.  But without offense, I tell you you’ve never seen our Master when something goes wrong.  If we’ve forgotten anything, or these dung eaters haven’t done what they’re supposed to, our Master will make your whole fief and those to the north and south into manure heaps before sunset tomorrow.’  He strode back to the head of his men.

This morning the final companies of samurai had ridden in from Mishima, Yabu’s capital city to the north.  Now they, too, with all the others, were drawn up in packed military formation on the foreshore, in the square, and on the hillside, their banners waving with the slight breeze, upright spears glinting in the sun.  Three thousand samurai, the elite of Yabu’s army.  Five hundred cavalry.

Omi was not afraid.  He had done everything it was possible to do and had personally checked everything that could be checked.  If something went wrong, then that was just karma.  But nothing is going to go wrong, he thought excitedly.  Five hundred koku had been spent or was committed on the preparations—more than his entire year’s income before Yabu had increased his fief.  He had been staggered by the amount but Midori, his wife, had said they should spend lavishly, that the cost was minuscule compared to the honor that Lord Yabu was doing him.  ‘And with Lord Toranaga here—who knows what great opportunities you’ll have?’ she had whispered.

She’s so right, Omi thought proudly.

He rechecked the shore and the village square.  Everything seemed perfect.  Midori and his mother were waiting under the awning that had been prepared to receive Yabu and his guest, Toranaga.  Omi noticed that his mother’s tongue was wagging and he wished that Midori could be spared its constant lash.  He straightened a fold in his already impeccable kimono and adjusted his swords and looked seaward.

‘Listen, Mura-san,’ Uo, the fisherman, was whispering cautiously.  He was one of the five village elders and they were kneeling with Mura in front of the rest.  ‘You know, I’m so frightened, if I pissed I’d piss dust.’

‘Then don’t, old friend.’ Mura suppressed his smile.

Uo was a broad-shouldered, rocklike man with vast hands and broken nose, and he wore a pained expression.  ‘I won’t.  But I think I’m going to fart.’  Uo was famous for his humor and for his courage and for the quantity of his wind.  Last year when they had had the wind-breaking contest with the village to the north he had been champion of champions and had brought great honor to Anjiro.

‘Eeeeee, perhaps you’d better not,’ Haru, a short, wizened fisherman, chortled.  ‘One of the shitheads might get jealous.’

Mura hissed, ‘You’re ordered not to call samurai that while even one’s near the village.’  Oh ko, he was thinking wearily, I hope we’ve not forgotten anything.  He glanced up at the mountainside, at the bamboo stockade surrounding the temporary fortress they had constructed with such speed and sweat.  Three hundred men, digging and building and carrying.  The other new house had been easier.  It was on the knoll, just below Omi’s house, and he could see it, smaller than Omi’s but with a tiled roof, a makeshift garden, and a small bath house.  I suppose Omi will move there and give Lord Yabu his, Mura thought.

He looked back at the headland where the galley would appear any moment now.  Soon Yabu would step ashore and then they were all in the hands of the gods, all kami, God the Father, His Blessed Son, and the Blessed Madonna, oh ko!

Blessed Madonna, protect us!  Would it be too much to ask to put Thy great eye on this special village of Anjiro?  Just for the next few days?  We need special favor to protect us from our Lord and Master, oh yes!  I will light fifty candles and my sons will definitely be brought up in the True Faith, Mura promised.

Today Mura was very glad to be a Christian; he could intercede with the One God and that was an added protection for his village.  He had become a Christian in his youth because his own liege lord had been converted and had at once ordered all his followers to become Christians.  And when, twenty years ago, this lord was killed fighting for Toranaga against the Taikō, Mura had remained Christian to honor his memory.  A good soldier has but one master, he thought.  One real master.

Ninjin, a round-faced man with very buck teeth, was especially agitated by the presence of so many samurai.  ‘Mura-san, so sorry, but it’s dangerous what you’ve done—terrible, neh?  That little earthquake this morning, it was a sign from the gods, an omen.  You’ve made a terrible mistake, Mura-san.’

‘What is done is done, Ninjin.  Forget about it.’

‘How can I?  It’s in my cellar and—’

‘Some of it’s in your cellar.  I’ve plenty myself,’ Uo said, no longer smiling.

‘Nothing’s anywhere.  Nothing, old friends,’ Mura said cautiously.  ‘Nothing exists.’  On his orders, thirty koku of rice had been stolen over the last few days from the samurai commissariat and was now secreted around the village, along with other stores and equipment—and weapons.

‘Not weapons,’ Uo had protested.  ‘Rice yes, but not weapons!’

‘War is coming.’

‘It’s against the law to have weapons,’ Ninjin had wailed.

Mura snorted.  ‘That’s a new law, barely twelve years old.  Before that we could have any weapons we wanted and we weren’t tied to the village.  We could go where we wanted, be what we wanted.  We could be peasant-soldier, fisherman, merchant, even samurai—some could, you know it’s the truth.’

‘Yes, but now it’s different, Mura-san, different.  The Taikō ordered it to be different!’

‘Soon it’ll be as it’s always been.  We’ll be soldiering again.’

‘Then let’s wait,’ Ninjin had pleaded.  ‘Please.  Now it’s against the law.  If the law changes that’s karma.  The Taikō made the law: no weapons.  None.  On pain of instant death.’

‘Open your eyes, all of you!  The Taikō’s dead!  And I tell you, soon Omi-san’ll need trained men and most of us have warred, neh?  We’ve fished and warred, all in their season.  Isn’t that true?’

‘Yes, Mura-san,’ Uo had agreed through his fear.  ‘Before the Taikō we weren’t tied.’

‘They’ll catch us, they have to catch us,’ Ninjin had wept.  ‘They’ll have no mercy.  They’ll boil us like they boiled the barbarian.’

‘Shut up about the barbarian!’

‘Listen, friends,’ Mura had said.  ‘We’ll never get such a chance again.  It’s sent by God.  Or by the gods.  We must take every knife, arrow, spear, sword, musket, shield, bow we can.  The samurai’ll think other samurai’ve stolen them—haven’t the shit-heads come from all over Izu?  And what samurai really trusts another?  We must take back our right to war, neh?  My father was killed in battle—so was his and his!  Ninjin, how many battles have you been in—dozens, neh?  Uo—what about you?  Twenty?  Thirty?’

‘More.  Didn’t I serve with the Taikō, curse his memory?  Ah, before he became Taikō, he was a man.  That’s the truth!  Then something changed him, neh?  Ninjin, don’t forget that Mura-san is headman!  And we shouldn’t forget his father was headman too!  If the headman says weapons, then weapons it has to be.’

Now, kneeling in the sun, Mura was convinced that he had done correctly, that this new war would last forever and their world would be again as it had always been.  The village would be here, and the boats and some villagers.  Because all men—peasant, daimyo, samurai, even the eta—all men had to eat and the fish were waiting in the sea.  So the soldier-villagers would take time out from war from time to time, as always, and they would launch their boats. . . .

‘Look!’ Uo said and pointed involuntarily in the sudden hush.

The galley was rounding the headland.

Fujiko was kneeling abjectly in front of Toranaga in the main cabin that he had used during the voyage, and they were alone.

‘I beg you, Sire,’ she pleaded.  ‘Take this sentence off my head.’

‘It’s not a sentence, it’s an order.’

‘I will obey, of course.  But I cannot do—’

‘Cannot?’ Toranaga flared.  ‘How dare you argue!  I tell you you’re to be the pilot’s consort and you have the impertinence to argue?’

‘I apologize, Sire, with all my heart,’ Fujiko said quickly, the words gushing.  ‘That was not meant as an argument.  I only wanted to say that I cannot do this in the way that you wished.  I beg you to understand.  Forgive me, Sire, but it’s not possible to be happy—or to pretend happiness.’  She bowed her head to the futon.  ‘I humbly beseech you to allow me to commit seppuku.’

‘I’ve said before I do not approve of senseless death.  I have a use for you.’

‘Please, Sire, I wish to die.  I humbly beg you.  I wish to join my husband and my son.’

Toranaga’s voice slashed at her, drowning the sounds of the galley.  ‘I’ve already refused you that honor.  You don’t merit it, yet.  And it’s only because of your grandfather, because Lord Hiro-matsu’s my oldest friend, that I’ve listened patiently to your ill-mannered mouthings so far.  Enough of this nonsense, woman.  Stop acting like a dung-headed peasant!’

‘I humbly beg permission to cut off my hair and become a nun.  Buddha will–’

‘No.  I’ve given you an order.  Obey it!’

‘Obey?’ she said, not looking up, her face stark.  Then, half to herself, ‘I thought I was ordered to Yedo.’

‘You were ordered to this vessel!  You forget your position, you forget your heritage, you forget your duty.  You forget your duty!  I’m disgusted with you.  Go and get ready.’

‘I want to die, please let me join them, Sire.’

‘Your husband was born samurai by mistake.  He was malformed, so his offspring would be equally malformed.  That fool almost ruined me!  Join them?  What nonsense!  You’re forbidden to commit seppuku!  Now, get out!’

But she did not move.

‘Perhaps I’d better send you to the eta.  To one of their houses.  Perhaps that’d remind you of your manners and your duty.’

A shudder racked her, but she hissed back defiantly, ‘At least they’d be Japanese!’

‘I am your liege lord.  You-will-do-as-I-order.’

Fujiko hesitated.  Then she shrugged.  ‘Yes, Lord.  I apologize for my ill manners.’  She placed her hands flat on the futon and bowed her head low, her voice penitent.  But in her heart she was not persuaded and he knew and she knew what she intended to do.  ‘Sire, I sincerely apologize for disturbing you, for destroying your wa, your harmony, and for my bad manners.  You were right. I was wrong.’  She got up and went quietly to the door of the cabin.

‘If I grant you what you wish,’ Toranaga said, ‘will you, in return, do what I want, with all your heart?’

Slowly she looked back.  ‘For how long, Sire?  I beg to ask for how long must I be consort to the barbarian?’

‘A year.’

She turned away and reached for the door handle.

Toranaga said, ‘Half a year.’

Fujiko’s hand stopped.  Trembling, she leaned her head against the door.  ‘Yes.  Thank you, Sire.  Thank you.’

Toranaga got to his feet and went to the door.  She opened it for him and bowed him through and closed it after him.  Then the tears came silently.

She was samurai.

Toranaga came on deck feeling very pleased with himself.  He had achieved what he wanted with the minimum of trouble.  If the girl had been pressed too far she would have disobeyed and taken her own life without permission.  But now she would try hard to please and it was important that she become the pilot’s consort happily, at least outwardly so, and six months would be more than enough time.  Women are much easier to deal with than men, he thought contentedly.  So much easier, in certain things.

Then he saw Yabu’s samurai massed around the bay and his sense of well-being vanished.

‘Welcome to Izu, Lord Toranaga,’ Yabu said.  ‘I ordered a few men here to act as escort for you.’

‘Good.’

The galley was still two hundred yards from the dock, approaching neatly, and they could see Omi and Igurashi and the futons and the awning.

‘Everything’s been done as we discussed in Osaka,’ Yabu was saying.  ‘But why not stay with me for a few days?  I’d be honored and it would prove very useful.  You could approve the choice of the two hundred and fifty men for the Musket Regiment, and meet their commander.’

‘Nothing would please me more but I must get to Yedo as quickly as possible, Yabu-san.’

‘Two or three days?  Please.  A few days free from worry would be good for you, neh?  Your health is important to me—to all your allies.  Some rest, good food, and hunting.’

Toranaga was desperately seeking a solution.  To stay here with only fifty guards was unthinkable.  He would be totally in Yabu’s power, and that would be worse than his situation at Osaka.  At least Ishido was predictable and bound by certain rules.  But Yabu?  Yabu’s as treacherous as a shark and you don’t tempt sharks, he told himself.  And never in their home waters.  And never with your own life.  He knew that the bargain he had made with Yabu at Osaka had as much substance as the weight of their urine when it had reached the ground, once Yabu believed he could get better concessions from Ishido.  And Yabu’s presenting Toranaga’s head on a wooden platter to Ishido would get Yabu immediately far more than Toranaga was prepared to offer.

Kill him or go ashore?  Those were the choices.

‘You’re too kind,’ he said.  ‘But I must get to Yedo.’  I never thought Yabu would have time to gather so many men here.  Has he broken our code?

‘Please allow me to insist, Toranaga-sama.  The hunting’s very good nearby.  I’ve falcons with my men.  A little hunting after being confined at Osaka would be good, neh?‘

‘Yes, it would be good to hunt today.  I regret losing my falcons there.’

‘But they’re not lost.  Surely Hiro-matsu will bring them with him to Yedo?’

‘I ordered him to release them once we were safely away.  By the time they’d have reached Yedo they would have been out of training and tainted.  It’s one of my few rules: only to fly the falcons that I’ve trained, and to allow them no other master.  That way they make only my mistakes.’

‘It’s a good rule.  I’d like to hear the others.  Perhaps over food, tonight?’

I need this shark, Toranaga thought bitterly.  To kill him now is premature.

Two ropes sailed ashore to be caught and secured.  The ropes tightened and screeched under the strain and the galley swung alongside deftly.  Oars were shipped.  The gangway slid into place and then Yabu stood at its head.

At once the massed samurai shouted their battle cry in unison.  ‘Kasigi!  Kasigi!‘ and the roar that they made sent the gulls cawing and mewing into the sky.  As one man, the samurai bowed.

Yabu bowed back, then turned to Toranaga and beckoned him expansively.  ‘Let’s go ashore.’

Toranaga looked out over the massed samurai, over the villagers prostrate in the dust, and he asked himself, Is this where I die by the sword as the astrologer has foretold?  Certainly the first part has come to pass: my name is now written on Osaka walls.

He put that thought aside.  At the head of the gangway he called out loudly and imperiously to his fifty samurai, who now wore Brown uniform kimonos as he did, ‘All of you, stay here!  You, Captain, you will prepare for instant departure!  Mariko-san, you will be staying in Anjiro for three days.  Take the pilot and Fujiko-san ashore at once and wait for me in the square.’  Then he faced the shore and to Yabu’s amazement increased the force of his voice.  ‘Now, Yabu-san, I will inspect your regiments!’  At once he walked past him and stomped down the gangplank with all the easy confident arrogance of the fighting general he was.

No general had ever won more battles and no one was more cunning except the Taikō, and he was dead.  No general had fought more battles, or was ever more patient or had lost so few men.  And he had never been defeated.

A rustle of astonishment sped throughout the shore as he was recognized.  This inspection was completely unexpected.  His name was passed from mouth to mouth and the strength of the whispering, the awe that it generated, gratified him.  He felt Yabu following but did not look back.

‘Ah, Igurashi-san,’ he said with a geniality he did not feel.  ‘It’s good to see you.  Come along, we’ll inspect your men together.’

‘Yes, Lord.’

‘And you must be Kasigi Omi-san.  Your father’s an old comrade in arms of mine.  You follow, too.’

‘Yes, Lord,’ Omi replied, his size increasing with the honor being done to him.  ‘Thank you.’

Toranaga set a brisk pace.  He had taken them with him to prevent them from talking privately with Yabu for the moment, knowing that his life depended on keeping the initiative.

‘Didn’t you fight with us at Odawara, Igurashi-san?’ he was asking, already knowing that this was where the samurai had lost his eye.

‘Yes, Sire. I had the honor.  I was with Lord Yabu and we served on the Taikō right wing.’

‘Then you had the place of honor—where fighting was the thickest.  I have much to thank you and your master for.’

‘We smashed the enemy, Lord.  We were only doing our duty.’  Even though Igurashi hated Toranaga, he was proud that the action was remembered and that he was being thanked.

Now they had come to the front of the first regiment.  Toranaga’s voice carried loudly.  ‘Yes, you and the men of Izu helped us greatly.  Perhaps, if it weren’t for you, I would not have gained the Kwanto!  Eh, Yabu-sama?’ he added, stopping suddenly, giving Yabu publicly the added title, and thus the added honor.

Again Yabu was thrown off balance by the flattery.  He felt it was no more than his due, but he had not expected it from Toranaga, and it had never been his intention to allow a formal inspection.  ‘Perhaps, but I doubt it.  The Taikō ordered the Beppu clan obliterated.  So it was obliterated.’

That had been ten years ago, when only the enormously powerful and ancient Beppu clan, led by Beppu Genzaemon, opposed the combined forces of General Nakamura, the Taikō-to-be, and Toranaga—the last major obstacle to Nakamura’s complete domination of the Empire.  For centuries the Beppu had owned the Eight Provinces, the Kwanto.  A hundred and fifty thousand men had ringed their castle-city of Odawara, which guarded the pass that led through the moun tains into the incredibly rich rice plains beyond.  The siege lasted eleven months.  Nakamura’s new consort, the patrician Lady Ochiba, radiant and barely eighteen, had come to her lord’s household outside the battlements, her infant son in her arms, Nakamura doting on his firstborn child.  And with Lady Ochiba had come her younger sister, Genjiko, whom Nakamura proposed giving in marriage to Toranaga.

‘Sire,’ Toranaga had said, ‘I’d certainly be honored to lock our houses closer together, but instead of me marrying the Lady Genjiko as you suggest, let her marry my son and heir, Sudara.’

It had taken Toranaga many days to persuade Nakamura but he had agreed.  Then when the decision was announced to the Lady Ochiba, she had replied at once, ‘With humility, Sire, I oppose the marriage.’

Nakamura had laughed.  ‘So do I!  Sudara’s only ten and Genjiko thirteen.  Even so, they’re now betrothed and on his fifteenth birthday they’ll marry.’

‘But, Sire, Lord Toranaga’s already your brother-in-law, neh?  Surely that’s enough of a connection?  You need closer ties with the Fujimoto and the Takashima—even at the Imperial Court.’

‘They’re dungheads at Court, and all in pawn,’ Nakamura had said in his rough, peasant voice.  ‘Listen, O-chan: Toranaga’s got seventy thousand samurai.  When we’ve smashed the Beppu he’ll have the Kwanto and more men.  My son will need leaders like Yoshi Toranaga, like I need them.  Yes, and one day my son will need Yoshi Sudara.  Better Sudara should be my son’s uncle.  Your sister’s betrothed to Sudara, but Sudara will live with us for a few years, neh?‘

‘Of course, Sire,’ Toranaga had agreed instantly, giving up his son and heir as a hostage.

‘Good.  But listen, first you and Sudara will swear eternal loyalty to my son.’

And so it had happened.  Then during the tenth month of siege this first child of Nakamura had died, from fever or bad blood or malevolent kami.

‘May all gods curse Odawara and Toranaga,’ Ochiba had raved.  ‘It’s Toranaga’s fault that we’re here—he wants the Kwanto.  It’s his fault our son’s dead.  He’s your real enemy.  He wants you to die and me to die!  Put him to death—or put him to work.  Let him lead the attack, let him pay with his life for the life of our son!  I demand vengeance. . . .’

So Toranaga had led the attack.  He had taken Odawara Castle by mining the walls and by frontal attack.  Then the grief-stricken Nakamura had stamped the city into dust.  With its fall and the hunting down of all the Beppu, the Empire was subdued and Nakamura became first Kwampaku and then Taikō.  But many had died at Odawara.

Too many, Toranaga thought, here on the Anjiro shore.  He watched Yabu.  ‘It’s a pity the Taikō’s dead, neh?‘

‘Yes.’

‘My brother-in-law was a great leader.  And a great teacher too.  Like him, I never forget a friend.  Or an enemy.’

‘Soon Lord Yaemon will be of age.  His spirit is the Taikō’s spirit.  Lord Tora—’  But before Yabu could stop the inspection Toranaga had already gone on again and there was little he could do but follow.

Toranaga walked down the ranks, exuding geniality, picking out a man here, another there, recognizing some, his eyes never still as he reached into his memory for faces and names.  He had that very rare quality of special generals who inspect so that every man feels, at least for a moment, that the general has looked at him alone, perhaps even talked with him alone among his comrades.  Toranaga was doing what he was born to do, what he had done a thousand times: controlling men with his will.

By the time the last samurai was passed, Yabu, Igurashi, and Omi were exhausted.  But Toranaga was not, and again, before Yabu could stop him, he had walked rapidly to a vantage point and stood high and alone.

‘Samurai of Izu, vassals of my friend and ally, Kasigi Yabu-sama!’ he called out in that vast sonorous voice.  ‘I’m honored to be here.  I’m honored to see part of the strength of Izu, part of the forces of my great ally.  Listen, samurai, dark clouds are gathering over the Empire and threaten the Taikō’s peace.  We must protect the Taikō’s gifts to us against treachery in high places!  Let every samurai be prepared!  Let every weapon be sharp!  Together we will defend his will!  And we will prevail!  May the gods of Japan both great and small pay attention!  May they blast without pity all those who oppose the Taikō’s orders!’  Then he raised both his arms and uttered their battle cry, ‘Kasigi,‘ and, incredibly, he bowed to the legions and held the bow.

They all stared at him.  Then, ‘Toranaga!‘ came roaring back at him from the regiments again and again.  And the samurai bowed in return.

Even Yabu bowed, overcome by the strength of the moment.

Before Yabu could straighten, Toranaga had set off down the hill once more at a fast pace.  ‘Go with him, Omi-san,’ Yabu ordered.  It would have been unseemly for him to run after Toranaga himself.

‘Yes, Lord.’

When Omi had gone, Yabu said to Igurashi, ‘What’s the news from Yedo?’

‘The Lady Yuriko, your wife, said first to tell you there’s a tremendous amount of mobilization over the whole Kwanto.  Nothing much on the surface but underneath everything’s boiling.  She believes Toranaga’s preparing for war—a sudden attack, perhaps against Osaka itself.’

‘What about Ishido?’

‘Nothing before we left.  That was five days ago.  Nor anything about Toranaga’s escape.  I only heard about that yesterday when your Lady sent a carrier pigeon from Yedo.’

‘Ah, Zukimoto’s already set up that courier service?’

‘Yes, Sire.’

‘Good.’

‘Her message read: ‘Toranaga has successfully escaped from Osaka with our Master in a galley.  Make preparations to welcome them at Anjiro.’  I thought it best to keep this secret except from Omi-san, but we’re all prepared.’

‘How?’

‘I’ve ordered a war ‘exercise,’ Sire, throughout Izu.  Within three days every road and pass into Izu will be blocked, if that’s what you want.  There’s a mock pirate fleet to the north that could swamp any unescorted ship by day or by night, if that’s what you want.  And there’s space here for you and a guest, however important, if that’s what you want.’

‘Good.  Anything else?  Any other news?’

Igurashi was reluctant to pass along news the implications of which he did not understand.  ‘We’re prepared for anything here.  But this morning a cipher came from Osaka: ‘Toranaga has resigned from the Council of Regents.”

‘Impossible!  Why should he do that?’

‘I don’t know.  I can’t think this one out.  But it must be true, Sire.  We’ve never had wrong information from this source before.’

‘The Lady Sazuko?’  Yabu asked cautiously, naming Toranaga’s youngest consort whose maid was a spy in his employ.

Igurashi nodded.  ‘Yes.  But I don’t understand it at all.  Now the Regents will impeach him, won’t they?  They’ll order his death.  It’d be madness to resign, neh?‘

‘Ishido must have forced him to do it.  But how?  There wasn’t a breath of rumor.  Toranaga would never resign on his own!  You’re right, that’d be the act of a madman.  He’s lost if he has.  It must be false.’

Yabu walked down the hill in turmoil and watched Toranaga cross the square toward Mariko and the barbarian, with Fujiko nearby.  Now Mariko was walking beside Toranaga, the others waiting in the square.  Toranaga was talking quickly and urgently.  And then Yabu saw him give her a small parchment scroll and he wondered what it contained and what was being said.  What new trickery is Toranaga planning, he asked himself, wishing he had his wife Yuriko here to help him with her wise counsel.

At the dock Toranaga stopped.  He did not go onto the ship and into the protection of his men.  He knew that it was on the shore that the final decision would be made.  He could not escape.  Nothing was yet resolved.  He watched Yabu and Igurashi approaching.  Yabu’s untoward impassivity told him very much.

‘So, Yabu-san?’

‘You will stay for a few days, Lord Toranaga?’

‘It would be better for me to leave at once.’

Yabu ordered everyone out of hearing.  In a moment the two men were alone on the shore.

‘I’ve had disquieting news from Osaka.  You’ve resigned from the Council of Regents?’

‘Yes.  I’ve resigned.’

‘Then you’ve killed yourself, destroyed your cause, all your vassals, all your allies, all your friends!  You’ve buried Izu and you’ve murdered me!’

‘The Council of Regents can certainly take away your fief, and your life if they want.  Yes.’

‘By all gods, living and dead and yet to be born . . .’  Yabu fought to dominate his temper.  ‘I apologize for my bad manners but your—your incredible attitude . . . yes, I apologize.’  There was no real purpose to be gained in a show of emotion which all knew was unseemly and defacing.  ‘Yes, it is better for you to stay here then, Lord Toranaga. ‘

‘I think I would prefer to leave at once.’

‘Here or Yedo, what’s the difference?  The Regents’ order will come immediately.  I imagine you’d want to commit seppuku at once.  With dignity.  In peace.  I would be honored to act as your second.’

‘Thank you.  But no legal order’s yet arrived so my head will stay where it is.’

‘What does a day or two matter?  It’s inevitable that the order will come.  I will make all arrangements, yes, and they will be perfect.  You may rely on me.’

‘Thank you.  Yes, I can understand why you would want my head.’

‘My own head will be forfeit too.  If I send yours to Ishido, or take it and ask his pardon, that might persuade him, but I doubt it, neh?‘

‘If I were in your position I might ask for your head.  Unfortunately my head will help you not at all.’

‘I’m inclined to agree.  But it’s worth trying.’  Yabu spat violently in the dust.  ‘I deserve to die for being so stupid as to put myself in that dunghead’s power.’

‘Ishido will never hesitate to take your head.  But first he’ll take Izu.  Oh yes, Izu’s lost with him in power.’

‘Don’t bait me!  I know that’s going to happen!’

‘I’m not baiting you, my friend,’ Toranaga told him, enjoying Yabu’s loss of face.  ‘I merely said, with Ishido in power you’re lost and Izu’s lost, because his kinsman Ikawa Jikkyu covets Izu, neh?  But, Yabu-san, Ishido doesn’t have the power.  Yet.’  And he told him, friend to friend, why he had resigned.

‘The Council’s hamstrung!’  Yabu couldn’t believe it.

‘There isn’t any Council.  There won’t be until there are five members again.’  Toranaga smiled.  ‘Think about it, Yabu-san.  Now I’m stronger than ever, neh?  Ishido’s neutralized—so is Jikkyu.  Now you’ve got all the time you need to train your guns.  Now you own Suruga and Totomi.  Now you own Jikkyu’s head.  In a few months you’ll see his head on a spike and the heads of all his kin, and you’ll ride in state into your new domains.’  Abruptly he spun and shouted, ‘Igurashi-san!’ and five hundred men heard the command.

Igurashi came running but before the samurai had gone three paces, Toranaga called out, ‘Bring an honor guard with you.  Fifty men!  At once!’  He did not dare to give Yabu a moment’s respite to detect the enormous flaw in his argument: that if Ishido was hamstrung now and did not have power, then Toranaga’s head on a wooden platter would be of enormous value to Ishido and thus to Yabu.  Or even better, Toranaga bound like a common felon and delivered alive at the gates of Osaka Castle would bring Yabu immortality and the keys to the Kwanto.

While the honor guard was forming in front of him, Toranaga said loudly, ‘In honor of this occasion, Yabu-sama, perhaps you would accept this as a token of friendship.’  Then he took out his long sword, held it flat on both hands, and offered it.

Yabu took the sword as though in a dream.  It was priceless.  It was a Minowara heirloom and famous throughout the land.  Toranaga had possessed this sword for fifteen years.  It had been presented to him by Nakamura in front of the assembled majesty of all the important daimyos in the Empire, except Beppu Genzaemon, as part payment for a secret agreement.

This had happened shortly after the battle of Nagakudé, long before the Lady Ochiba.  Toranaga had just defeated General Nakamura, the Taikō-to-be, when Nakamura was still just an upstart without mandate or formal power or formal title and his reach for absolute power still in the balance.  Instead of gathering an overwhelming host and burying Toranaga, which was his usual policy, Nakamura had decided to be conciliatory.  He had offered Toranaga a treaty of friendship and a binding alliance, and to cement them, his half sister as wife.  That the woman was already married and middle-aged bothered neither Nakamura nor Toranaga at all.  Toranaga agreed to the pact.  At once the woman’s husband, one of Nakamura’s vassals—thanking the gods that the invitation to divorce her had not been accompanied by an invitation to commit seppuku—had gratefully sent her back to her half brother.  Immediately Toranaga married her with all the pomp and ceremony he could muster, and the same day concluded a secret friendship pact with the immensely powerful Beppu clan, the open enemies of Nakamura, who, at this time, still sat disdainfully in the Kwanto on Toranaga’s very unprotected back door.

Then Toranaga had flown his falcons and waited for Nakamura’s inevitable attack.  But none had come.  Instead, astoundingly, Nakamura had sent his revered and beloved mother into Toranaga’s camp as a hostage, ostensibly to visit her stepdaughter, Toranaga’s new wife, but still hostage nonetheless, and had, in return, invited Toranaga to the vast meeting of all the daimyos that he had arranged at Osaka.  Toranaga had thought hard and long.  Then he had accepted the invitation, suggesting to his ally Beppu Genzaemon that it would be unwise for them both to go.  Next, he had set sixty thousand samurai secretly into motion toward Osaka against Nakamura’s expected treachery, and had left his eldest son, Noboru, in charge of his new wife and her mother.  Noboru had at once piled tinder-dry brushwood to the eaves of their residence and had told them bluntly he would fire it if anything happened to his father.

Toranaga smiled, remembering.  The night before he was due to enter Osaka, Nakamura, unconventional as ever, had paid him a secret visit, alone and unarmed.

‘Well met, Tora-san.’

‘Well met, Lord Nakamura.’

‘Listen: We’ve fought too many battles together, we know too many secrets, we’ve shit too many times in the same pot to want to piss on our own feet or on each other’s.’

‘I agree,’ Toranaga had said cautiously.

‘Listen then: I’m within a sword’s edge of winning the realm.  To get total power I’ve got to have the respect of the ancient clans, the hereditary fief holders, the present heirs of the Fujimoto, the Takashima, and Minowara.  Once I’ve got power, any daimyo or any three together can piss blood for all I care.’

‘You have my respect—you’ve always had it.’

The little monkey-faced man had laughed richly.  ‘You won at Nagakudé fairly.  You’re the best general I’ve ever known, the greatest daimyo in the realm.  But now we’re going to stop playing games, you and I.  Listen: tomorrow I want you to bow to me before all the daimyos, as a vassal.  I want you, Yoshi Toranaga-noh-Minowara a willing vassal.  Publicly.  Not to tongue my hole, but polite, humble, and respectful.  If you’re my vassal, the rest’ll fart in their haste to put their heads in the dust and their tails in the air.  And the few that don’t—well, let them beware.’

‘That will make you Lord of all Japan.  Neh?‘

‘Yes.  The first in history.  And you’ll have given it to me.  I admit I can’t do it without you.  But listen: If you do that for me you’ll have first place after me.  Every honor you want.  Anything.  There’s enough for both of us.’

‘Is there?’

‘Yes.  First I take Japan.  Then Korea.  Then China.  I told Goroda I wanted that and that’s what I’ll have.  Then you can have Japan—a province of my China!’

‘But now, Lord Nakamura?  Now I have to submit, neh?  I’m in your power, neh?  You’re in overwhelming strength in front of me and the Beppu threaten my back.’

‘I’ll deal with them soon enough,’ the peasant warlord had said.  ‘Those sneering carrion refused my invitation to come here tomorrow—they sent my scroll back covered in bird’s shit.  You want their lands?  The whole Kwanto?’

‘I want nothing from them or from anyone,’ he had said.

‘Liar,’ Nakamura had said genially.  ‘Listen, Tora-san: I’m almost fifty.  None of my women has ever birthed.  I’ve juice in plenty, always have had, and in my life I must have pillowed a hundred, two hundred women, of all types, of all ages, in every way, but none has ever birthed a child, not even stillborn.  I’ve everything but I’ve no sons and never will.  That’s my karma.  You’ve four sons living and who knows how many daughters.  You’re forty-three so you can pillow your way to a dozen more sons as easy as horses shit and that’s your karma.  Also you’re Minowara and that’s karma.  Say I adopt one of your sons and make him my heir?’

‘Now?’

‘Soon.  Say in three years.  It was never important to have an heir before but now things’re different.  Our late Master Goroda had the stupidity to get himself murdered.  Now the land’s mine—could be mine.  Well?’

‘You’ll make the agreements formal, publicly formal, in two years?’

‘Yes.  In two years.  You can trust me—our interests are the same.  Listen: In two years, in public; and we agree, you and I, which son.  This way we share everything, eh?  Our joint dynasty’s settled into the future, so no problems there and that’s good for you and good for me.  The pickings’ll be huge.  First the Kwanto. Eh?’

‘Perhaps Beppu Genzaemon will submit—if I submit.’

‘I can’t allow them to, Tora-san.  You covet their lands.’

‘I covet nothing.’

Nakamura’s laugh had been merry.  ‘Yes.  But you should.  The Kwanto’s worthy of you.  It’s safe behind mountain walls, easy to defend.  With the delta you’ll control the richest rice lands in the Empire.  You’ll have your back to the sea and an income of two million koku.  But don’t make Kamakura your capital.  Or Odawara.’

‘Kamakura’s always been capital of the Kwanto.’

‘Why shouldn’t you covet Kamakura, Tora-san?  Hasn’t it contained the holy shrine of your family’s guardian kami for six hundred years?  Isn’t Hachiman, the kami of war, the Minowara deity?  Your ancestor was wise to choose the kami of war to worship.’

‘I covet nothing, worship nothing.  A shrine is just a shrine and the kami of war’s never been known to stay in any shrine.’

‘I’m glad you covet nothing, Tora-san, then nothing will disappoint you.  You’re like me in that.  But Kamakura’s no capital for you.  There are seven passes into it, too many to defend.  And it’s not on the sea.  No, I wouldn’t advise Kamakura.  Listen: You’d be better and safer to go farther over the mountains.  You need a seaport.  There’s one I saw once—Yedo—a fishing village now, but you’ll make it into a great city.  Easy to defend, perfect for trade.  You favor trade.  I favor trade.  Good.  So you must have a seaport.  As to Odawara, we’re going to stamp it out, as a lesson to all the others.’

‘That will be very difficult.’

‘Yes.  But it’d be a good lesson for all the other daimyos, neh?‘

‘To take that city by storm would be costly.’

Again the taunting laugh.  ‘It could be, to you, if you don’t join me.  I’ve got to go through your present lands to get at it—did you know you’re the Beppu front line?  The Beppu pawn?  Together you and them could keep me off for a year or two, even three.  But I’ll get there in the end.  Oh, yes.  Eeeee, why waste more time on them?  They’re all dead—except your son-in-law if you want—ah, I know you’ve an alliance with them, but it’s not worth a bowl of horseshit.  So what’s your answer?  The pickings are going to be vast.  First the Kwanto—that’s yours—then I’ve all Japan.  Then Korea—easy.  Then China—hard but not impossible.  I know a peasant can’t become Shōgun, but ‘our’ son will be Shōgun, and he could straddle the Dragon Throne of China too, or his son.  Now that’s the end of talk.  What’s your answer, Yoshi Toranaga-noh-Minowara, vassal or not?  Nothing else is of value to me.’

‘Let’s piss on the bargain,’ Toranaga had said, having gained everything that he had wanted and planned for.  And the next day, before the bewildered majesty of the truculent daimyos, he had humbly offered up his sword and his lands and his honor and his heritage to the upstart peasant warlord.  He had begged to be allowed to serve Nakamura and his house forever.  And he, Yoshi Toranaga-noh-Minowara, had bowed his head abjectly into the dust.  The Taikō-to-be now had been magnanimous and had taken his lands and had at once gifted him the Kwanto as a fief once it was conquered, ordering total war on the Beppu for their insults to the Emperor.  And he had also given Toranaga this sword that he had recently acquired from one of the Imperial treasuries.  The sword had been made by the master swordsmith Miyoshi-Go centuries before, and had once belonged to the most famous warrior in history, Minowara Yoshitomo, the first of the Minowara Shōguns.

Toranaga remembered that day.  And he recalled other days: a few years later when the Lady Ochiba gave birth to a boy; and another when, incredibly, after the Taikō’s first son had conveniently died, Yaemon, the second son, was born.   So was the whole plan ruined.  Karma.

He saw Yabu holding the sword of his ancestor with reverence.

‘Is it as sharp as they say?’ Yabu asked.

‘Yes.’

‘You do me great honor. I will treasure your gift.’  Yabu bowed, conscious that, because of the gift, he would be the first in the land after Toranaga.

Toranaga bowed back, and then, unarmed, he walked for the gangway.  It took all his will to hide his fury and not to let his feet falter, and he prayed that Yabu’s avariciousness would keep him mesmerized for just a few moments more.

‘Cast off!’ he ordered, coming onto the deck, and then turned shoreward and waved cheerfully.

Someone broke the silence and shouted his name, then others took up the shout.  There was a general roar of approval at the honor done to their lord.  Willing hands shoved the ship out to sea.  The oarsmen pulled briskly.  The galley made way.

‘Captain, get to Yedo quickly!’

‘Yes, Sire.’

Toranaga looked aft, his eyes ranging the shore, expecting danger any instant.  Yabu stood near the jetty, still bemused by the sword.  Mariko and Fujiko were waiting beside the awning with the other women.  The Anjin-san was on the edge of the square where he had been told to wait—rigid, towering, and unmistakably furious.  Their eyes met.  Toranaga smiled and waved.

The wave was returned, but coldly, and this amused Toranaga very much.

Blackthorne walked cheerlessly up to the jetty.

‘When’s he coming back, Mariko-san?’

‘I don’t know, Anjin-san.’

‘How do we get to Yedo?’

‘We stay here.  At least, I stay for three days.  Then I’m ordered there.’

‘By sea?’

‘By land.’

‘And me?’

‘You are to stay here.’

‘Why?’

‘You expressed an interest in learning our language.  And there’s work for you to do here.’

‘What work?’

‘I don’t know, I’m sorry.  Lord Yabu will tell you.  My Master left me here to interpret, for three days.’

Blackthorne was filled with foreboding.  His pistols were in his belt but he had no knives and no more powder and no more shot.  That was all in the cabin aboard the galley.

‘Why didn’t you tell me we were staying here?’ he asked.  ‘You just said to come ashore.’

‘I didn’t know you were to remain here also,’ she replied.  ‘Lord Toranaga told me only a moment ago, in the square.’

‘Why didn’t he tell me then?  Tell me himself?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I was supposed to be going to Yedo.  That’s where my crew is.  That’s where my ship is.  What about them?’

‘He just said you were to stay here.’

‘For how long?’

‘He didn’t tell me, Anjin-san.  Perhaps Lord Yabu will know.  Please be patient.’

Blackthorne could see Toranaga standing on the quarterdeck, watching shoreward.  ‘I think he knew all along I was to stay here, didn’t he?’

She did not answer.  How childish it is, she said to herself, to speak aloud what you think.  And how extraordinarily clever Toranaga was to have escaped this trap.

Fujiko and the two maids stood beside her, waiting patiently in the shade with Omi’s mother and wife, whom she had met briefly, and she looked beyond them to the galley.  It was picking up speed now.  But it was still within easy arrow range.  Any moment now she knew she must begin.  Oh, Madonna, let me be strong, she prayed, all her attention centering on Yabu.

‘Is it true?  Is that true?’  Blackthorne was asking.

‘What?  Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know, Anjin-san.  I can only tell you Lord Toranaga is very wise.  The wisest man.  Whatever his reason, it was good.’  She studied the blue eyes and hard face, knowing that Blackthorne had no understanding of what had occurred here.  ‘Please be patient, Anjin-san.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  You’re his favored vassal and under his—’

‘I’m not afraid, Mariko-san.  I’m just tired of being shoved around the board like a pawn.  And I’m no one’s vassal.’

‘Is ‘retainer’ better?  Or how would you describe a man who works for another or is retained by another for special . . .’  Then she saw the blood soar into Yabu’s face.

‘The guns—the guns are still on the galley!’ he cried out.

Mariko knew the time had come.  She hurried over to him as he turned to shout orders at Igurashi.

‘Your pardon, Lord Yabu,’ she said, overriding him, ‘there’s no need to worry about your guns.  Lord Toranaga said to ask your pardon for his haste but he has urgent things to do on your joint behalves at Yedo.  He said he would return the galley instantly.  With the guns.  And with extra powder.  And also with the two hundred and fifty men you require from him.  They’ll be here in five or six days.’

‘What?’

Mariko explained patiently and politely again as Toranaga had told her to do.  Then, once Yabu understood, she took out a roll of parchment from her sleeve.  ‘My Master begs you to read this.  It concerns the Anjin-san.’  She formally offered it to him.

But Yabu did not take the scroll.  His eyes went to the galley.  It was well away now, going very fast.  Out of range.  But what does that matter, he thought contentedly, now over his anxiety.  I’ll get the guns back quickly and now I’m out of the Ishido trap and I’ve Toranaga’s most famous sword and soon all the daimyos in the land will be aware of my new position in the armies of the East—second to Toranaga alone!  Yabu could still see Toranaga and he waved once and the wave was returned.  Then Toranaga vanished off the quarterdeck.

Yabu took the scroll and turned his mind to the present.  And to the Anjin-san.

Blackthorne was watching thirty paces away and he felt his hackles rise under Yabu’s piercing gaze.  He heard Mariko speaking in her lilting voice but that did not reassure him.  His hand tightened covertly on the pistol.

‘Anjin-san!’ Mariko called out.  ‘Would you please come over here!’

As Blackthorne approached them, Yabu glanced up from the parchment, nodded in friendly fashion.  When Yabu had finished reading he handed the paper back to Mariko and spoke briefly, partly to her, partly to him.

Reverently Mariko offered the paper to Blackthorne.  He took it and examined the incomprehensible characters.

‘Lord Yabu says you are welcome in this village.  This paper is under Lord Toranaga’s seal, Anjin-san.  You are to keep it.  He’s given you a rare honor.  Lord Toranaga has made you a hatamoto.  This is the position of a special retainer of his personal staff.  You have his absolute protection, Anjin-san.  Lord Yabu, of course, acknowledges this.  I will explain later the privileges, but Lord Toranaga has given you also a salary of twenty koku a month.  That is about—’

Yabu interrupted her, expansively waving his hand at Blackthorne, then at the village, and spoke at length.  Mariko translated.  ‘Lord Yabu repeats that you are welcome here.  He hopes you will be content, that everything will be done to make your stay comfortable.  A house will be provided for you.  And teachers.  You will please learn Japanese as quickly as possible, he says.  Tonight he will ask you some questions and tell you about some special work.’

‘Please ask him, what work?’

‘May I advise just a little more patience, Anjin-san.  Now is not the time, truly.’

‘All right.’

‘Wakarimasu ka, Anjin-san?’ Yabu said.  Do you understand?

‘Hai, Yabu-san.  Domo.‘

Yabu gave orders to Igurashi to dismiss the regiment, then strode over to the villagers, who were still prostrate in the sand.

He stood in front of them in the warm fine spring afternoon, Toranaga’s sword still in his hand.  His words whipped over them.  Yabu pointed the sword at Blackthorne and harangued them a few moments more and ended abruptly.  A tremor went through the villagers.  Mura bowed and said ‘hai‘ several times and turned and asked the villagers a question and all eyes went to Blackthorne.

‘Wakarimasu ka?‘ Mura called out and they all answered ‘hai,‘ their voices mixing with the sighing of the waves upon the beach.

‘What’s going on?’ Blackthorne asked Mariko, but Mura shouted, ‘Keirei!‘ and the villagers bowed low again, once to Yabu and once to Blackthorne.  Yabu strode off without looking back.

‘What’s going on, Mariko-san?’

‘He—Lord Yabu told them you are his honored guest here.  That you are also Lord Toranaga’s very honored vas—retainer.  That you are here mostly to learn our tongue.  That he has given the village the honor and responsibility of teaching you.  The village is responsible, Anjin-san.  Everyone here is to help you.  He told them that if you have not learned satisfactorily within six months, the village will be burnt, but before that, every man, woman, and child will be crucified.’