Shogun (124 page)

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Authors: James Clavell

BOOK: Shogun
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“I am more hungry than I’ve ever been.”

“Ah, I was talking about food.”

“Ah, so was I….”

Three days away from Hakoné Pass her monthly time began and she had asked him to take one of the maids of the inn. “It would be wise, Anjin-san.”

“I’d prefer not to, so sorry.”

“Please, I ask thee. It is a safeguard. A discretion.”

“Because you ask, then yes. But tomorrow, not tonight. Tonight let us sleep in peace.”

Yes, Mariko thought, that night we slept peacefully and the next dawn was so lovely that I left his warmth and sat on the veranda with Chimmoko and watched the birth of another day.

“Ah, good morning, Lady Toda.” Gyoko had been standing at the garden entrance, bowing to her. “A gorgeous dawn,
neh?”

“Yes, beautiful.”

“Please may I interrupt you? Could I speak to you privately—alone? About a business matter.”

“Of course.” Mariko had left the veranda, not wishing to disturb the Anjin-san’s sleep. She sent Chimmoko for cha and ordered blankets to be put on the grass, near the little waterfall.

When it was correct to begin and they were alone, Gyoko said, “I was considering how I could be of the most help to Toranaga-sama.”

“The thousand koku would be more than generous.”

“Three secrets might be more generous.”

“One might be, Gyoko-san, if it was the right one.”

“The Anjin-san is a good man,
neh?
His future must be helped too,
neh?”

“The Anjin-san has his own
karma,”
she replied, knowing that the time of bargaining had come, wondering what she must concede, if she dared to concede anything. “We were talking about Lord Toranaga,
neh?
Or is one of the secrets about the Anjin-san?”

“Oh no, Lady. It’s as you say. The Anjin-san has his own
karma
, as I’m sure he has his own secrets. It’s just occurred to me that the Anjin-san is one of Lord Toranaga’s favored vassals, so any protection our Lord has in a way helps his vassals,
neh?”

“I agree. Of course, it’s the duty of vassals to pass on
any
information that could help their lord.”

“True, Lady, very true. Ah, it’s such an honor for me to serve you.
Honto
. May I tell you how honored I am to have been allowed to travel with you, to talk with you, and eat and laugh with you, and occasionally to act as a modest counselor, however ill-equipped I am, for which I apologize. And finally to say that your wisdom is as great as your beauty, and your bravery as vast as your rank.”

“Ah, Gyoko-san, please excuse me, you’re too kind, too thoughtful. I am just a wife of one of my Lord’s generals. You were saying? Four secrets?”

“Three, Lady. I was wondering if you’d intercede with Lord Toranaga for me. It would be unthinkable for me to whisper directly to him what I know to be true. That would be very bad manners because I wouldn’t know the right words to choose, or how to put the information before him, and in any event, in a matter of any importance, our custom to use a go-between is so much better,
neh?”

“Surely Kiku-san would be a better choice? I’ve no way of knowing when I’ll be sent for or how long it would be before I’ll have an audience with him, or even if he’d be interested in listening to anything I might have to tell him.”

“Please excuse me, Lady, but you would be extraordinarily better. You could judge the value of the information, she couldn’t. You possess his ear, she other things.”

“I’m not a counselor, Gyoko-san. Nor a valuer.”

“I’d say they’re worth a thousand koku.”


So desu ka?”

Gyoko made perfectly sure no one was listening, then told Mariko what the renegade Christian priest had muttered aloud that the Lord Onoshi had whispered to him in the confessional that he had related to his uncle, Lord Harima; then what Omi’s second cook had overheard of Omi’s and his mother’s plot against Yabu; and lastly, all she knew about Zataki, his apparent lust for the Lady Ochiba, and about Ishido and Lady Ochiba.

Mariko had listened intently without comment—although breaking the secrecy of the confessional shocked her greatly—her mind hopping at the swarm of possibilities this information unlocked. Then she cross-questioned Gyoko carefully, to make sure she understood clearly what she was being told and to etch it completely in her own memory.

When she was satisfied that she knew everything that Gyoko was prepared to divulge at the moment—for, obviously, so shrewd a bargainer would always hold much in reserve—she sent for fresh cha.

She poured Gyoko’s cup herself, and they sipped demurely. Both wary, both confident.

“I’ve no way of knowing how valuable this information is, Gyoko-san.”

“Of course, Mariko-sama.”

“I imagine this information—and the thousand koku—would please Lord Toranaga greatly.”

Gyoko bit back the obscenity that flared behind her lips. She had expected a substantial reduction in the beginning bid. “So sorry, but money has no significance to such a
daimyo
, though it is a heritage to a peasant like myself—a thousand koku makes me an ancestress,
neh?
One must always know what one is, Lady Toda.
Neh?”
Her tone was barbed.

“Yes. It’s good to know what you are, and who you are, Gyoko-san. That is one of the rare gifts a woman has over a man. A woman always knows. Fortunately I know what I am. Oh very yes. Please come to the point.”

Gyoko did not flinch under the threat but slammed back into attack
with corresponding impolite brevity. “The point is we both know life and understand death—and both believe treatment in hell and everywhere else depends on money.”

“Do we?”

“Yes. So sorry, I believe a thousand koku is too much.”

“Death is preferable?”

“I’ve already written my death poem, Lady:

When I die,
don’t burn me,
don’t bury me,
just throw my body on a field to fatten some empty-bellied dog.”

“That could be arranged. Easily.”

“Yes. But I’ve long ears and a safe tongue, which could be more important.”

Mariko poured more cha. For herself. “So sorry, have you?”

“Oh yes, oh very yes. Please excuse me but it’s no boast that I was trained well, Lady, in that and many other things. I’m not afraid to die. I’ve written my will, and detailed instructions to my kin in case of a sudden death. I’ve made my peace with the gods long since and forty days after I’m dead I know I’ll be reborn. And if I’m not”—the woman shrugged—“then I’m a
kami.”
Her fan was stationary. “So I can afford to reach for the moon,
neh?
Please excuse me for mentioning it but I’m like you: I fear nothing. But unlike you in this life—I’ve nothing to lose.”

“So much talk of evil things, Gyoko-san, on such a pleasant morning. It is pleasant,
neh?”
Mariko readied to bury her fangs. “I’d much prefer to see you alive, living into honored old age, one of the pillars of your new guild. Ah, that was a very tender idea. A good one, Gyoko-san.”

“Thank you, Lady. Equally I’d like you safe and happy and prospering in the way that you’d wish. With all the toys and honors you’d require.”

“Toys?” Mariko repeated, dangerous now.

Gyoko was like a trained dog on the scent near the kill. “I’m only a peasant, Lady, so I wouldn’t know what honors you wish, what toys would please you.
Or your son.”

Unnoticed by either of them the slim wooden haft of Mariko’s fan
snapped between her fingers. The breeze had died. Now the hot wet air hung in the garden that looked out on a waveless sea. Flies swarmed and settled and swarmed again.

“What—what honors or toys would you wish? For yourself?” Mariko stared with malevolent fascination at the older woman, clearly aware now that she must destroy this woman or her son would perish.

“Nothing for myself. Lord Toranaga’s given me honors and riches beyond my dreams. But for
my
son? Ah yes, he could be given a helping hand.”

“What help?”

“Two swords.”

“Impossible.”

“I know, Lady. So sorry. So easy to grant, yet so impossible. War’s coming. Many will be needed to fight.”

“There’ll be no war now. Lord Toranaga’s going to Osaka.”

“Two swords. That’s not much to ask.”

“That’s impossible. So sorry, that’s not mine to give.”

“So sorry, but I haven’t asked
you
for anything. But that’s the only thing that would please me. Yes. Nothing else.” A dribble of sweat fell from Gyoko’s face onto her lap. “I’d like to offer Lord Toranaga five hundred koku from the contract price, as a token of my esteem in these hard times. The other five hundred will go to my son. A samurai needs a heritage,
neh?”

“You sentence your son to death. All Toranaga samurai will die or become
ronin
very soon.”


Karma
. My son already has sons, Lady. They will tell their sons that once we were samurai. That’s all that matters,
neh?”

“It’s not mine to give.”

“True. So sorry. But that’s all that would satisfy me.”

Irritably, Toranaga shook his head. “Her information’s interesting—perhaps—but not worth making her son samurai.”

Mariko replied, “She seems to be a loyal vassal, Sire. She said she’d be honored if you’d deduct a further five hundred koku from the contract fee for some needy samurai.”

“That’s not generosity. No, not at all. That’s merely guilt over the original usurious asking price.”

“Perhaps it’s worth considering, Sire. Her idea about the guild, about
gei-sha
and the new classes of courtesans, will have far-reaching effects,
neh?
It would do no harm, perhaps.”

“I don’t agree. No. Why should she be rewarded? There’s no reason for granting her that honor. Ridiculous! She surely didn’t ask you for it, did she?”

“It would have been more than a little impertinent for her to do that, Sire. I have made the suggestion because I believe she could be very valuable to you.”

“She’d better be more valuable. Her secrets are probably lies too. These days I get nothing but lies.” Toranaga rang a small bell and an equerry appeared instantly at the far door.

“Sire?”

“Where’s the courtesan Kiku?”

“In your quarters, Sire.”

“Is the Gyoko woman with her?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Send them both out of the castle. At once! Send them back to…. No, lodge them at an inn—a third-class inn—and tell them to wait there until I send for them.” Toranaga said testily, as the man vanished, “Disgusting! Pimps wanting to be samurai? Filthy peasants don’t know their place anymore!”

Mariko watched him sitting on his cushion, his fan waving desultorily. She was jarred by the change in him. Gloom, irritation, and petulance, where before there had always been only buoyant confidence. He had listened to the secrets with interest, but not with the excitement she had expected. Poor man, she thought with pity, he’s given up. What’s the good of any information to him? Perhaps he’s wise to cast things of the world aside and prepare for the unknown. Better you should do that yourself too, she thought, dying inside a bit more. Yes, but you can’t, not yet, somehow you’ve got to protect your son.

They were on the sixth floor of the tall fortified donjon and the windows overlooked the whole city on three quarters of the compass. Sunset was dark tonight, the thread of moon low on the horizon, the dank air stifling, though here, almost a hundred feet above the floor of the castle battlements, the room gathered every breath of wind. The room was low and fortified and took up half the whole floor, other rooms beyond.

Toranaga picked up the dispatch that Hiro-matsu had sent with Mariko and read it again. She noticed his hand tremble.

“What’s he want to come to Yedo for?” Impatiently Toranaga tossed the scroll aside.

“I don’t know, Sire, so sorry. He just asked me to give you this dispatch.”

“Did you talk to the Christian renegade?”

“No, Sire. Yoshinaka-san said you’d given orders against anyone doing that.”

“How was Yoshinaka on the journey?”

“Very capable, Sire,” she said, patiently answering the question for a second time. “Very efficient. He guarded us very well and delivered us on time exactly.”

“Why didn’t the priest Tsukku-san come back with you all the way?”

“On the road from Mishima, Sire, he and the Anjin-san quarreled,” Mariko told him, not knowing what Father Alvito might have already told Toranaga, if in fact Toranaga had sent for him yet. “The Father decided to travel on alone.”

“What was the quarrel about?”

“Partially over me, my soul, Sire. Mostly because of their religious enmity and because of the war between their rulers.”

“Who started it?”

“They were equally to blame. It began over a flask of liquor.” Mariko told him what had passed with Rodrigues, then continued, “The Tsukku-san had brought a second flask as a gift, wanting, so he said, to intercede for Rodrigues-san, but the Anjin-san said, shockingly bluntly, that he didn’t want any ‘Papist liquor,’ preferred saké, and he didn’t trust priests. The—the Holy Father flared up, was equally shockingly blunt, saying he had never dealt in poison, never would, and could never condone such a thing.”

“Ah, poison? Do they use poison as a weapon?”

“The Anjin-san told me some of them do, Sire. This led to more violent words and then they were hacking at each other over religion, my soul, about Catholics and Protestants … I left to fetch Yoshinaka-san as soon as I could and he stopped the quarrel.”

“Barbarians cause nothing but trouble. Christians cause nothing but trouble.
Neh?”

She did not answer him. His petulance unsettled her. It was so unlike him and there seemed to be no reason for such a breakdown in his legendary self-control. Perhaps the shock of being beaten is too much for him, she thought. Without him we’re all finished, my son’s finished, and the Kwanto will soon be in other hands. His gloom was infecting her. She had noticed in the streets and in the castle the
pall that seemed to hang over the whole city—a city that was famous for its gaiety, brash good humor, and delight with life.

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