Shogun (100 page)

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Authors: James Clavell

BOOK: Shogun
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Instead he incited them even more, for it was essential to throw his enemy off balance.

“Listen, samurai: Soon you’ll be able to prove your valor, man to man, as our forefathers proved theirs. I will destroy Ishido and all his traitors and first will be Ikawa Jikkyu. I hereby give all his lands, both provinces of Suruga and Totomi worth three hundred thousand koku, to my faithful vassal Lord Kasigi Yabu, and, with Izu, confirm him and his line as their overlords.”

A thunderous acclamation. Yabu was flushed with elation.

Omi was banging the floor, shouting just as ecstatically. Now his prize was limitless, for by custom, Yabu’s heir would inherit all his lands.

How to kill Yabu without waiting for war?

Then his eyes fixed on the Anjin-san, who was cheering lustily. Why not let the Anjin-san do it for you, he asked himself, and laughed aloud at the idiotic thought. Buntaro leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder, amiably misinterpreting the laughter as happiness for Yabu. “Soon you’ll get the fief you merit,
neh?”
Buntaro shouted over the tumult. “You deserve recognition too. Your ideas and counsel are valuable.”

“Thank you, Buntaro-san.”

“Don’t worry—we can get through any mountains.”

“Yes.” Buntaro was a ferocious battle general and Omi knew they were well matched: Omi the bold strategist, Buntaro the fearless attack leader.

If anyone can get us through the mountains, he can.

There was another burst of cheering as Toranaga ordered saké to be brought, ending the formal meeting.

Omi drank his saké and watched Blackthorne drain another cup, his kimono neat, swords correct, Mariko still talking. You’ve changed very much, Anjin-san, since that first day, he thought contentedly. Many of your alien ideas are still set firm, but you’re almost becoming civilized—

“What’s the matter, Omi-san?”

“Nothing—nothing, Buntaro-san …”

“You looked as though an
eta
had shoved his buttocks in your face.”

“Nothing like that—not at all! Eeeee, just the opposite. I had the beginnings of an idea. Drink up! Hey, Peach-Blossom, bring more saké, my Lord Buntaro’s cup is empty!”

CHAPTER 40

“I am instructed to inquire if Kiku-san would be free this evening,” Mariko said.

“Oh, so sorry, Lady Toda, but I’m not sure,” Gyoko, the Mama-san, said ingratiatingly. “May I ask if the honored client would require Lady Kiku for the evening or part of it, or perhaps until tomorrow, if she’s not already engaged?”

The Mama-san was a tall, elegant woman in her eariy fifties with a lovely smile. But she drank too much saké, her heart was an abacus, and she possessed a nose that could smell a single piece of silver from fifty ri.

The two women were in an eight-mat room adjoining Toranaga’s private quarters. It had been set aside for Mariko, and overlooked, on the other side, a small garden which was enclosed by the first of the inner wall defenses. It was raining again and the droplets sparkled in the flares.

Mariko said genteelly, “That would be a matter for the client to decide. Perhaps an arrangement could be made now which would cover every eventuality.”

“So sorry, please excuse me that I don’t know her availability at once. She’s so sought after, Lady Toda. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, yes, of course. We’re really very fortunate to have such a lady of quality here in Anjiro.” Mariko had accented the “Anjiro.” She had sent for Gyoko instead of visiting her, as she might possibly have done. And when the woman had arrived, just late enough to make a distinct point, but not enough to be rude, Mariko had been glad of the opportunity to lock horns with so worthy an adversary.

“Was the Tea House damaged very much?” she asked.

“No, fortunately, apart from some valuable pottery and clothes, though it will cost a small fortune to repair the roof and resettle the garden. It’s always so expensive to get things done quickly, don’t you find?”

“Yes. It’s very trying. In Yedo, Mishima, or even in this village.”

“It’s so important to have tranquil surroundings,
neh?
Would the client perhaps honor us at the Tea House? Or would he wish Kiku-san to visit him here, if she is available?”

Mariko pursed her lips, thinking. “The Tea House.”


Ah, so desu!”
The Mama-san’s real name was Heiko-ichi—First Daughter of the Wall Maker. Her father and his before him had been specialists in making garden walls. For many years she had been a courtesan in Mishima, the capital of Izu, attaining Second Class Rank. But the gods had smiled upon her and, with gifts from her patron, coupled with an astute business sense, she had made enough money to buy her own contract in good time, and so become a manager of ladies with a Tea House of her own when she was no longer sought after for the fine body and saucy wit with which the gods had endowed her. Now she called herself Gyoko-san, Lady Luck. When she was a fledgling courtesan of fourteen, she had been given the name Tsukaiko—Lady Snake Charmer. Her owner had explained to her that that special part of man could be likened to a snake, that a snake was lucky, and if she could become a snake charmer in that sense, then she would be hugely successful. Also the name would make clients laugh, and laughter was essential to this business. Gyoko had never forgotten about laughter.

“Saké, Gyoko-san?”

“Thank you, yes, thank you, Lady Toda.”

The maid poured. Then Mariko dismissed her.

They drank silently for a moment. Mariko refilled the cups.

“Such lovely pottery. So elegant,” Gyoko said.

“It’s very poor. I’m so sorry we have to use it.”

“If I can make her available, would five koban be acceptable?” A koban was a gold coin that weighed eighteen grams. One koban equaled three koku of rice.

“So sorry, perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I didn’t wish to buy all the Tea House in Mishima, only the lady’s services for an evening.”

Gyoko laughed. “Ah, Lady Toda, your reputation is well merited. But may I point out that Kiku-san is of the First Class Rank. The Guild gave her that honor last year.”

“True, and I’m sure that rank is merited. But that was in Mishima. Even in Kyoto—but of course you were making a joke, so sorry.”

Gyoko swallowed the vulgarity that was on her tongue and smiled benignly. “Unfortunately I would have to reimburse clients who, I seem to remember, have already booked her. Poor child, four of her kimonos were ruined when water doused the fires. Hard times are coming to the land, Lady, I’m sure you understand. Five would not be unreasonable.”

“Of course not. Five would be fair in Kyoto, for a week of carousing, with two ladies of First Rank. But these are not normal times and one must make allowances. Half a koban. Saké, Gyoko-san?”

“Thank you, thank you. The saké’s so good—the quality is so good, so very good. Just one more if you please, then I must be off. If Kiku-san is not free this evening I’d be delighted to arrange one of the other ladies—Akeko perhaps. Or perhaps another day would be satisfactory? The day after tomorrow perhaps?”

Mariko did not answer for a moment. Five koban was outrageous—as much as you’d pay for a famous courtesan of First Class in Yedo. Half a koban would be more than reasonable for Kiku. Mariko knew prices of courtesans because Buntaro used courtesans from time to time and had even bought the contract of one, and she had had to pay the bills, which had, of course, rightly come to her. Her eyes gauged Gyoko. The woman was sipping her saké calmly, her hand steady.

“Perhaps,” Mariko said. “But I don’t think so, neither another lady nor another night…. No, if tonight cannot be arranged I’m afraid that the day after tomorrow would be too late, so sorry. And as to another of the ladies …” Mariko smiled and shrugged.

Gyoko set her cup down sadly. “I did hear that our glorious samurai would be leaving us. Such a pity! The nights are so pleasant here. In
Mishima we do not get the sea breeze as you do here. I shall be sorry to leave too.”

“Perhaps one koban. If this arrangement is satisfactory I would then like to discuss how much her contract would cost.”

“Her contract!”

“Yes. Saké?”

“Thank you, yes. Contract—her contract? Well, that’s another thing. Five thousand koku.”

“That’s impossible!”

“Yes,” Gyoko agreed, “but Kiku-san’s like my own daughter. She is my own daughter, better than my own daughter. I’ve trained her since she was six. She’s the most accomplished Lady of the Willow World in all Izu. Oh, I know, in Yedo you have greater ladies, more witty, more worldly, but that’s only because Kiku-san hasn’t had the good fortune to mix with the same quality of persons. But even now, none can match her singing or her samisen playing. I swear it by all the gods. Give her a year in Yedo, with the right patron and correct sources of knowledge, and she’ll compete satisfactorily with any courtesan in the Empire. Five thousand koku is a small sum to pay for such a flower.” Perspiration beaded the woman’s forehead. “You must excuse me, but I’ve never considered selling her contract before. She’s barely eighteen, blemishless, the only Lady of First Class Rank that I’ve been privileged to manage. I really don’t think I could ever sell her contract even at the price mentioned. No, I think I will have to reconsider, so sorry. Perhaps we could discuss this tomorrow. Lose Kiku-san? My little Kiku-chan?” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and Mariko thought, if those are real tears, then you, Gyoko, you’ve never spread yourself open to a Princely Pestle.

“So sorry.
Shigata ga nai, neh?”
Mariko said courteously and let the woman moan and weep and refilled her cup every so often and then again. How much is the contract really worth, she was asking herself. Five hundred koku would be fantastically more than fair. It depends on the anxiety of the man, who’s not anxious in this case. Certainly Lord Toranaga isn’t. Who’s he buying for? Omi? Probably. But why did Toranaga order the Anjin-san here?

“You agree, Anjin-san?” she had asked him earlier with a nervous laugh, over the boisterousness of the drunken officers.

“You’re saying that Lord Toranaga’s arranged a lady for me? Part of my reward?”

“Yes. Kiku-san. You can hardly refuse. I—I am ordered to interpret.”

“Ordered?”

“Oh, I’ll be happy to interpret for you. But, Anjin-san, you really can’t refuse. It would be terribly impolite after so many honors,
neh?”
She had smiled up at him, daring him, so proud and delighted with Toranaga’s incredible generosity. “Please. I’ve never seen the inside of a Tea House before—I’d adore to look myself and talk with a real Lady of the Willow World.”

“What?”

“Oh, they’re called that because the ladies are supposed to be as graceful as willows. Sometimes it’s the Floating World, because they’re likened to lilies floating in a lake. Go on, Anjin-san, please agree.”

“What about Buntaro-sama?”

“Oh, he knows I’m to arrange it for you. Lord Toranaga told him. It’s all very official of course. I’m ordered. So are you! Please!” Then she had said in Latin, so glad that no one else in Anjiro spoke the language, “There is another reason that I will tell thee later.”

“Ah—tell it to me now.”

“Later. But agree, with amusement. Because I ask thee.”

“Thou—how can I refuse thee?”

“But with amusement. It must be with amusement. Thy promise!”

“With laughter. I promise. I will attempt it. I promise thee nothing other than I will attempt the crest.”

Then she had left him to make the arrangements.

“Oh, I’m distraught at the very thought of selling my beauty’s contract,” Gyoko was groaning. “Yes, thank you, just a little more saké, then I really must go.” She drained the cup and held it out wearily for an immediate refill. “Shall we say two koban for this evening—a measure of my desire to please a Lady of such merit?”

“One. If this is agreed, perhaps we could talk more about the contract this evening, at the Tea House. So sorry to be precipitous, but time, you understand …” Mariko waved a hand vaguely toward the conference room. “Affairs of state—Lord Toranaga—the future of the realm—you understand, Gyoko-san.”

“Oh, yes, Lady Toda, of course.” Gyoko began to get up. “Shall we agree to one and a half for the evening? Good, then that’s set—”

“One.”


Oh ko
, Lady, the half is a mere token and hardly merits discussion,”
Gyoko wailed, thanking the gods for her acumen and keeping feigned anguish on her face. One and a half koban would be a triple fee. But, more than the money, this was, at long last, the first invitation from one of the real nobility of all Japan for which she had been angling, for which she would gladly have advised Kiku-san to do everything for nothing, twice. “By all the gods, Lady Toda, I throw myself on your mercy, one and a half koban. Please, think of my other children who have to be clothed and trained and fed for years, who do not become as priceless as Kiku-san but have to be cherished as much as she.”

“One koban, in gold, tomorrow.
Neh?”

Gyoko lifted the porcelain flask and poured two cups. She offered one to Mariko, drained the other, and refilled her own immediately. “One,” she said, almost gagging.

“Thank you, you’re so kind and thoughtful. Yes, times are hard.” Mariko sipped her wine demurely. “The Anjin-san and I will be at the Tea House shortly.”

“Eh? What was that you said?”

“That the Anjin-san and I will be at the Tea House shortly. I am to interpret for him.”

“The barbarian?” Kiku gasped.

“The barbarian. And he’ll be here any moment unless we stop him—with her, the cruelest, most grasping harpy I’ve ever met, may she be reborn a back-passage whore of the Fifteenth Rank.”

In spite of her fear, Kiku laughed outright. “Oh, Mama-san, please don’t fret so! She seemed such a lovely lady and one whole koban—you really made a marvelous arrangement! There, there, we’ve lots of time. First some saké will take away all your heartburn. Ako, quick as a hummingbird!”

Ako vanished.

“Yes, the client’s the Anjin-san.” Gyoko almost choked again.

Kiku fanned her and Hana, the little apprentice, fanned her and held sweet-smelling herbs near her nose. “I thought she was negotiating for Lord Buntaro—or Lord Toranaga himself. Of course when she said the Anjin-san I asked her at once why didn’t his own consort, Lady Fujiko, negotiate as correct manners insisted, but all she said was that his Lady was badly sick with burns and she herself had been ordered to talk to me by Lord Toranaga himself.”

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