“I agree with Omi-san and Naga-san. He should be bottled up. The rest of his men are nothing—they’re eta and they’ll cannibalize themselves soon, so they’re nothing. I advise that all foreigners should be bottled up or thrown out. They’re a plague—to be treated as such.”
“Then there’s no silk trade. Neh?”
“If that was the price then I’d pay it. They’re a plague.”
“But we must have silk and, to protect ourselves, we must learn about them, learn what they know, neh?”
“They should be confined to Nagasaki, under very close guard, and their numbers strictly limited. They could still trade once a year. Isn’t money their essential motive? Isn’t that what the Anjin-san says?”
“Ah, then he is useful?”
“Yes. Very. He’s taught us the wisdom of the Expulsion Edicts. The Anjin-san is very wise, very brave. But he’s a toy. He amuses you, Sire, like Tetsu-ko, so he’s valuable, though still a toy.”
Toranaga said, “Thank you for your opinions. Once the attack is launched you will return to Yedo and wait for further orders.” He said it hard and deliberately. Zataki still held the Lady Genjiko and their son and three daughters hostage at his capital of Takato. At Toranaga’s request Zataki had granted Sudara a leave of absence, but only for ten days, and Sudara had solemnly agreed to the bargain and to return within that time. Zataki was famous for his narrow-mindedness about honor. Zataki would and could legally obliterate all the hostages on this point of honor, irrespective of any overt or covert treaty or agreement. Both Toranaga and Sudara knew without any doubt Zataki would do that if Sudara did not return as promised. “You will wait at Yedo for further orders.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“You will leave for Mishima at once.”
“Then it will save time if I go that way.” Sudara pointed at the junction ahead.
“Yes. I’ll send you a dispatch tomorrow.”
Sudara bowed and went to his horse and, with his twenty guards, rode off.
Toranaga picked up the bowl and took a remaining morsel of the now cold noodles. “Oh, Sire, so sorry, do you want some more?” the young maid said breathlessly, running up. She was round-faced and not pretty, but sharp and observant—just as he liked his serving maids, and his women. “No, thank you. What’s your name?”
“Yuki, Sire.”
“Tell your master he makes good noodles, Yuki.”
“Yes, Sire, thank you. Thank you, Sire, for honoring our house. Just raise a knuckle joint for whatever you require and you’ll have it instantly.”
He winked at her and she laughed, collected his tray, and hurried off. Containing his impatience, he checked the far bend in the road, then examined his surroundings. The inn was in good repair, the tiled surrounds to the well clean and the earth broomed. Out in the courtyard and all around, his men waited patiently but he could detect nervousness in the Hunt Master and decided that today was the man’s last day of active duty. If Toranaga had been seriously concerned with the hunt for itself alone, he would have told him to go back to Yedo now, giving him a generous pension, and appointed another in his place.
That’s the difference between me and Sudara, he thought without malice. Sudara wouldn’t hesitate. Sudara would order the man to commit seppuku now, which would save the pension and all further bother and increase the expertise of the replacement. Yes, my son, I know you very well. You’re most important to me.
What about Lady Genjiko and their children? he asked himself, bringing to the fore that vital question. If the Lady Genjiko were not sister to Ochiba—her favorite and cherished sister—I would regretfully allow Zataki to eliminate them all now and so save Sudara an enormous amount of danger in the future, if I die soon, because they are his only weak link. But fortunately Genjiko is Ochiba’s sister, and so an important piece in the Great Game, and I don’t have to allow that to happen. I should but I won’t. This time I have to gamble. So I’ll remind myself Genjiko’s valuable in other ways—she’s as sharp as a shark’s spine, makes fine children, and is as fanatically ruthless over her nest as Ochiba, with one enormous difference: Genjiko is loyal to me first, Ochiba to the Heir first.
So that’s decided. Before the tenth day Sudara must be back in Zataki’s hands. An extension? No, that might make Zataki even more suspicious than he is now, and he’s the last man I want suspicious now. Which way will Zataki jump?
You were wise to settle Sudara. If there’s a future, the future will be safe in his hands and Genjiko’s, providing they follow the Legacy to the letter. And the decision to reinstate him now was correct and will please Ochiba.
He had already written the letter this morning that he would send off to her tonight with a copy of the order. Yes, that will remove one fish bone from her gullet that was making her choke, deliberately set there so long ago for that purpose. It’s good to know Genjiko is one of Ochiba’s weak links, perhaps her only one. What’s Genjiko’s weakness? None. At least I haven’t found one yet, but if there is one, I’ll find it.
He was scrutinizing his falcons. Some were prating, some preening themselves, all in good fettle, all hooded except Kogo, her great yellow eyes darting, watching everything, as interested as he was.
What would you say, my beauty, he asked her silently, what would you say if I told you I must be impatient and break out and my main thrust will be along the Tokaidō, and not through Zataki’s mountains, as I told Sudara? You’d probably say, why? Then I’d answer, because I don’t trust Zataki as far as I can fly. And I can’t fly at all. Neh?
Then he saw Kogo’s eyes snap to the road. He squinted into the distance and smiled as he saw the palanquins and baggage horses approaching around the bend.
“So, Fujiko-san? How are you?”
“Good, thank you, Sire, very good.” She bowed again and he noticed she was not in pain from her burn scars. Now her limbs were as supple as ever, and there was a pleasing bloom on her cheeks. “May I ask how the Anjin-san is?” she said. “I heard the journey from Osaka was very bad, Sire.”
“He’s in good health now, very good.”
“Oh, Sire, that’s the best news you could have given me.”
“Good.” He turned to the next palanquin to greet Kiku and she smiled gaily and saluted him with great fondness, saying that she was so pleased to see him and how much she had missed him. “It’s been so long, Sire.”
“Yes, please excuse me, I’m sorry,” he said, heated by her astounding beauty and inner joy in spite of his overwhelming anxieties. “I’m very pleased to see you.” Then his eyes went to the last litter. “Ah, Gyoko-san, it’s been a long time,” he added, dry as tinder.
“Thank you, Lord, yes, and I’m reborn now that these old eyes have had the honor of seeing you again.” Gyoko’s bow was impeccable and she was carefully resplendent, and he caught the merest flash of a scarlet under kimono of the most expensive silk. “Ah, how strong you are, Sire, a giant among men,” she crooned.
“Thank you. You’re looking well too.”
Kiku clapped her hands at the sally and they all laughed with her. “Listen,” he said, happy because of her, “I’ve made arrangements for you to stay here for a while. Now, Fujiko-san, please come with me.”
He took Fujiko aside and after giving her cha and refreshments and chatting about unimportant things he came to the point. “You agreed half a year and I agreed half a year. So sorry, but I must know today if you will change that agreement.”
The square little face became unattractive as the joy went out of it. The tip of her tongue touched her sharp teeth for a moment. “How can I change that agreement, Sire?”