Shogun (110 page)

“Thank you, Father,” Naga said, filled with pride at the rare compliment. “I only hope you’ll forgive my stupidities and teach me to serve you better.”

“You’re not stupid.” Yabu’s stupid, Toranaga almost added. The less people know the better, and it’s not necessary to stretch your mind, Naga. You’re so young—my youngest but for your half brother, Tadateru. How old is he? Ah, seven, yes, he’d be seven.

He watched the approaching horsemen a moment. “How’s your mother, Naga?”

“As always, the happiest lady in the world. She’ll still only let me see her once a year. Can’t you persuade her to change?”

“No,” said Toranaga. “She’ll never change.”

Toranaga always felt a glow when he thought of Chano-Tsuboné, his eighth official consort and Naga’s mother. He laughed to himself as he remembered her earthy humor, her dimpled cheeks and saucy bottom, the way she wriggled and the enthusiasm of her pillowing.

She had been the widow of a farmer near Yedo who had attracted him twenty years ago. She had stayed with him three years, then asked to be allowed to return to the land. He had allowed her to go. Now she lived on a good farm near where she was born—fat and content, a dowager Buddhist nun honored by all and beholden to none. Once in a while he would go to see her and they would laugh together, without reason, friends.

“Ah, she’s a good woman,” Toranaga said.

Yabu and Omi rode up and dismounted. Ten paces away they stopped and bowed.

“He gave me a scroll,” Yabu said, enraged, brandishing it. “‘… We invite you to leave Izu at once for Osaka, today, and present yourself at Osaka Castle for an audience, or all your lands are now forfeit and you are hereby declared outlaw.’” He crushed the scroll in his fist and threw it on the ground. “Today!”

“Then you’d better leave at once,” Toranaga said, suddenly in a foul humor at Yabu’s truculence and stupidity.

“Sire, I beg you,” Omi began hastily, dropping abjectly to his
knees, “Lord Yabu’s your devoted vassal and I beg you humbly not to taunt him. Forgive me for being so rude, but Lord Zataki … Forgive me for being so rude.”

“Yabu-san, please excuse the remark—it was meant kindly,” Toranaga said, cursing his lapse. “We should all have a sense of humor about such messages,
neh?”
He called up his falconer, gave him the bird from his fist, dismissed him and the beaters. Then he waved all samurai except Naga out of earshot, squatting on his haunches, and bade them do the same. “Perhaps you’d better tell me what happened.”

Yabu said, “There’s almost nothing to tell. I went to see him. He received me with the barest minimum of courtesy. First there were ‘greetings’ from Lord Ishido and a blunt invitation to ally myself secretly with him, to plan your immediate assassination, and to murder every Toranaga samurai in Izu. Of course I refused to listen, and at once—at once—without any courtesy whatsoever, he handed me that!” His finger stabbed belligerently toward the scroll. “If it hadn’t been for your direct order protecting him I’d have hacked him to pieces at once! I demand you rescind that order. I cannot live with this shame. I must have revenge!”

“Is that everything that happened?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Toranaga passed over Yabu’s rudeness and scowled at Omi. “You’re to blame,
neh?
Why didn’t you have the intelligence to protect your Lord better? You’re supposed to be an adviser. You should have been his shield. You should have drawn Lord Zataki into the open, tried to find out what Ishido had in mind, what the bribe was, what plans they had. You’re supposed to be a valued counselor. You’re given a perfect opportunity and you waste it like an unpracticed dullard!”

Omi bent his head. “Please excuse me, Sire.”

“I might, but I don’t see why Lord Yabu should. Now your lord’s accepted the scroll. Now he’s committed. Now he has to act one way or the other.”

“What?” said Yabu.

“Why else do you think I did what I did? To delay—of course, to delay,” said Toranaga.

“But one day? What’s the value of one day?” Yabu asked.

“Who knows? A day for you is one less for the enemy.” Toranaga’s eyes snapped back to Omi. “Was the message from Ishido verbal or in writing?”

Yabu answered instead. “Verbal, of course.”

Toranaga kept his penetrating gaze on Omi. “You’ve failed in your duty to your lord and to me.”

“Please excuse—”

“What exactly did you say?”

Omi did not reply.

“Have you forgotten your manners as well? What did you say?”

“Nothing, Sire. I said nothing.”

“What?”

Yabu blustered, “He said nothing to Zataki because he wasn’t present. Zataki asked to speak to me alone.”

“Oh?” Toranaga hid his glee that Yabu had had to admit what he had already surmised and that part of the truth was now in the open. “Please excuse me, Omi-san. I naturally presumed you were present.”

“It was my error, Sire. I should have insisted. You’re correct, I failed to protect my Lord,” Omi said. “I should have been more forceful. Please excuse me. Yabu-sama, please excuse me.”

Before Yabu could answer, Toranaga said, “Of course you’re forgiven, Omi-san. If your lord overruled you, that’s his privilege. You did overrule him, Yabu-sama?”

“Yes—yes, but I didn’t think it mattered. You think I …”

“Well, the harm’s done now. What do you plan to do?”

“Of course, dismiss the message for what is it, Sire.” Yabu was disquieted. “You think I could have avoided taking it?”

“Of course. You could have negotiated with him for a day. Maybe more. Weeks even,” Toranaga added, turning the knife deeper into the wound, maliciously delighted that Yabu’s own stupidity had thrust him onto the hook, and not at all concerned with the treachery Yabu had undoubtedly been bribed into, cajoled into, flattered into, or frightened into. “So sorry, but you’re committed. Never mind, it’s as you said, ‘The sooner everyone chooses sides the better.’” He got up. “There’s no need to go back to the regiment tonight. Both of you join me at the evening meal. I’ve arranged an entertainment.” For everyone, he added under his breath, with a great deal of satisfaction.

Kiku’s skillful fingers strummed a chord, the plectrum held firmly. Then she began to sing and the purity of her voice filled the hushed night. They sat spellbound in the large room that was open to the veranda and the garden beyond, entranced by the extraordinary effect
she made under the flickering torches, the gold threads of her kimono catching the light as she leaned over the samisen.

Toranaga glanced around momentarily, aware of the night currents. On one side of him, Mariko sat between Blackthorne and Buntaro. On the other, Omi and Yabu, side by side. The place of honor was still empty. Zataki had been invited, but of course he had regretfully declined due to ill health, though he had been seen galloping the northern hills and was presently pillowing with his legendary strength. Naga and very carefully chosen guards were all around, Gyoko hovering somewhere in the background. Kiku-san knelt on the veranda facing them, her back to the garden—tiny, alone, and very rare.

Mariko was right, Toranaga thought. The courtesan’s worth the money. His spirit was beguiled by her, his anxiety about Zataki lessened. Shall I send for her again tonight or shall I sleep alone? His manhood stirred as he remembered last night.

“So, Gyoko-san, you wished to see me?” he had asked in his private quarters at the fortress.

“Yes, Sire.”

He lit the measured length of incense. “Please proceed.”

Gyoko had bowed, but he hardly had eyes for her. This was the first time he had seen Kiku closely. Nearness improved her exquisite features, as yet unmarked by the rigors of her profession. “Please play some music while we talk,” he said, surprised that Gyoko was prepared to talk in front of her.

Kiku had obeyed at once, but her music then was nothing like tonight. Last night it was to soothe, an accompaniment to the business at hand. Tonight was to excite, to awe, and to promise.

“Sire,” Gyoko had begun formally, “first may I humbly thank you for the honor you do me, my poor house, and Kiku-san, the first of my Ladies of the Willow World. The price I have asked for contract is insolent I know, impossible I am sure, not agreed to until dawn tomorrow when both the Lady Kasigi and the Lady Toda in their wisdom will decide. If it were a matter for you, you would have decided long ago, for what is contemptible money to any samurai, let alone to the greatest
daimyo
in the world?”

Gyoko had paused for effect. He had not taken the bait, but moved his fan slightly, which could be interpreted as irritation at her expansiveness, acceptance of the compliment, or an absolute rejection of the asking price, depending on her inner mood. Both knew very clearly who really approved the amount.

“What is money? Nothing but a means of communication,” she continued, “like Kiku-san’s music. What in fact do we of the Willow World do but communicate and entertain, to enlighten the soul of man, to lighten his burden….” Toranaga had stifled a caustic response, reminding himself the woman had bought one stick of time for five hundred koku and five hundred koku merited an attentive audience. So he let her continue and listened with one ear, and let the other enjoy the flow of perfect music that tugged at his innermost being, gentling him into a sense of euphoria. Then he was rudely yanked back into the world of reality by something Gyoko had just said. “What?”

“I was merely suggesting that you should take the Willow World under your protection and change the course of history.”

“How?”

“By doing what you have always done, Sire, by concerning yourself with the future of the whole Empire—before your own.”

He let the ludicrous exaggeration pass and told himself to close his ears to the music—that he had fallen into the first trap by telling Gyoko to bring the girl, the second by letting himself feast on her beauty and perfume, and the third by allowing her to play seductively while the mistress talked.

“The Willow World? What about the Willow World?”

“Two things, Sire. First, the Willow World is presently intermingled with the real world to the detraction of both. Second, our ladies cannot truly rise to the perfection all men have the right to expect.”

“Oh?” A thread of Kiku’s perfume, one he had never known before, wafted across him. It was perfectly chosen. Involuntarily he looked at her. A half-smile was on her lips for him alone. Languidly she dropped her eyes and her fingers stroked the strings and he felt them on him intimately.

He tried to concentrate. “So sorry, Gyoko-san. You were saying?”

“Please excuse me for not being clear, Sire. First: The Willow World should be separate from the real one. My Tea House in Mishima is on one street in the south, others are scattered over the whole city. It is the same in Kyoto and Nara, and the same throughout all the Empire. Even in Yedo. But I thought that Yedo could set the pattern of the world.”

“How?” His heart missed a beat as a perfect chord fell into place.

“All other crafts wisely have streets of their own, areas of their
own. We should be allowed our own place, Sire. Yedo is a new city; you might consider setting aside a special section for your Willow World. Bring all Tea Houses within the walls of this area and forbid any Tea Houses, however modest, outside.”

Now his mind concentrated totally, for here was a vast idea. It was so good that he berated himself for not thinking of it himself. All Tea Houses and all courtesans within a fence, and therefore remarkably easy to police, to watch, and to tax, and all their customers equally easy to police, to watch, and to spy upon. The simplicity staggered him. He knew also the powerful influence wielded by the Ladies of the First Rank.

But his face betrayed none of his enthusiasm. “What’s the advantage in that, Gyoko-san?”

“We would have our own guild, Sire, with all the protection that a guild means, a real guild in one place, not spread out, so to speak, a guild that all would obey….”

“
Must
obey?”

“Yes, Sire. Must obey, for the good of all. The guild would be responsible that prices were fair and that standards were maintained. Why, in a few years, a Lady of the Second Class in Yedo would equal one in Kyoto and so on. If the scheme was valuable in Yedo why not in every city in your domain?”

“But those owners who are within the fence dominate everything. They’re monopolists,
neh?
They can charge usurious entrance fees,
neh
, can lock the doors against many who have an equal right to work in the Willow World,
neh?”

“Yes, it could be so, Sire. And it will happen in some places, and in some times. But strict laws can easily be made to ensure fairness, and it would seem the good outweighs the bad, for us and for our honored customers and clients. Second: Ladies of—”

“Let us finish your first point, Gyoko-san,” Toranaga said dryly. “So that’s a point against your suggestion,
neh?”

“Yes, Sire. It’s possible. But any
daimyo
could easily order it otherwise. And he has to deal with only one guild in one place. You, Sire, you would have no trouble. Each area would of course be responsible for the peace of the area. And for taxes.”

“Ah yes, taxes! It would certainly be much easier to collect taxes. That’s a very good point in its favor.”

Gyoko’s eyes were on the incense stick. More than half had vanished. “You, in your wisdom, might decree that our Willow World
should be the only world, within the whole world, that is never to be taxed, for all time. Never, never, never.” She looked up at him clearly, her voice guileless. “After all, Sire, isn’t our world also called the ‘Floating World,’ isn’t our only offering beauty, isn’t a large part of beauty youth? Isn’t something so fleeting and transient as youth a gift from the gods, and sacred? Of all men, Sire, you must know how rare and fleeting youth is, a woman is.”

The music died. His eyes were pulled to Kiku-san. She was watching him intently, a small frown on her brow.

“Yes,” he said honestly. “I know how fleeting that can be.” He sipped his cha. “I will consider what you’ve said. Second?”