Shogun (167 page)

A carrier pigeon, pursued by a hawk, was clattering wildly for the safety of the home coop in the village. The coop was in the attic of the tallest building, set back from the seashore on a slight rise. With a hundred yards to go, the hawk on station, high above its prey, closed its wings and plummeted. The stoop hit with a burst of feathers but it was not perfect. The pigeon fell screeching as though mortally wounded, then, near the ground, recovered and fled for home. She scrambled through a hole in the coop to safety, the hawk
ek-ek-ek-ing
with rage a few paces behind, and everyone cheered, except Blackthorne. Even the pigeon’s cleverness and bravery did not touch him. Nothing touched anymore.

“Good,
neh?”
one of his vassals said, embarrassed by his master’s dourness.

“Yes.” Blackthorne went back to the galley. Yabu was there and the Lady Sazuko, Kiri and the captain. Everything was ready. “Yabu-san.
Ima
Yedo
ka?”
he asked.

But Yabu did not answer and no one noticed him. All eyes were on Naga, who was hurrying toward the village. A pigeon handler came out of the building to meet him. Naga broke the seal and read the slip of paper. “Galley and all aboard to stay at Yokohama until I arrive.” It was signed Toranaga.

The horsemen came rapidly over the lip of the hill in the early sun. First were the fifty outriders and scouts of the advance guard led by Buntaro. Next came the banners. Then Toranaga. After him was the bulk of the war party under the command of Omi. Following them were Father Alvito Tsukku-san and ten acolytes in a tight group and, after them, a small rear guard, among them hunters with falcons on their gloves, all hooded except one great yellow-eyed goshawk. All samurai were heavily armed and wore chain cuirasses and cavalry battle armor.

Toranaga rode easily, his spirit lightened now, a newer and stronger man, and he was glad to be near the end of his journey. It was two and a half days since he had sent the order to Naga to keep the galley at Yokohama and had left Mishima on this forced march. They had
come very fast, picking up fresh horses every twenty
ri
or so. At one station where horses were not available the samurai in charge was removed, his stipend given to another, and he was invited to commit seppuku or shave his head and become a priest. The samurai chose death.

The fool had been warned, Toranaga thought, the whole Kwanto’s mobilized and on a war footing. Still, that man wasn’t a total waste, he told himself. At least the news of that example will flash the length of my domains and there’ll be no more unnecessary delays.

So much yet to do, he thought, his mind frantic with facts and plans and counterplans. In four days it will be
the day
, the twenty-second day of eighth month, the Month for Viewing the Moon. Today, at Osaka, the courtier Ogaki Takamoto formally goes to Ishido and regretfully announces that the Son of Heaven’s visit to Osaka has to be delayed for a few days due to ill health.

It had been so easy to manipulate the delay. Although Ogaki was a Prince of the Seventh Rank and descended from the Emperor Go-Shoko, the ninety-fifth of the dynasty, he was impoverished like all members of the Imperial Court. The Court possessed no revenue of its own. Only samurai possessed revenue and, for hundreds of years, the Court had had to exist on a stipend—always carefully controlled and lean—granted it by the Shōgun, Kwampaku, or ruling Junta of the day. So Toranaga had humbly and very cautiously assigned ten thousand koku yearly to Ogaki, through intermediaries, to donate to needy relatives as Ogaki himself wished, saying with due humility that, being Minowara and therefore also descended from Go-Shoko, he was delighted to be of service and trusted that the Exalted would take care of his precious health in so treacherous a climate as Osaka’s, particularly around the twenty-second day.

Of course there was no guarantee that Ogaki could persuade or dissuade the Exalted, but Toranaga had surmised that the advisers to the Son of Heaven, or the Son of Heaven himself, would welcome an excuse to delay—hopefully, at length to cancel. Only once in three centuries had a ruling Emperor ever left his sanctuary at Kyoto. That had been four years ago at the invitation of the Taikō to view the cherry blossoms near Osaka Castle, coincident with his resigning the Kwampaku title in favor of Yaemon—and so by implication, putting the Imperial Seal on the succession.

Normally no
daimyo
, even Toranaga, would have dared to make such an offer to any member of the Court because it insulted and
usurped the prerogative of a superior—in this case the Council—and would instantly be construed as treason, as it rightly was. But Toranaga knew he was already indicted for treason.

Tomorrow Ishido and his allies will move against me. How much more time have I left? Where should
the
battle be? Odawara? Victory depends only on the time and the place, and not on the number of men. They’ll outnumber me three to one at the very least. Never mind, he thought,
Ishido’s coming out of Osaka Castle!
Mariko pried him out. In the chess game for power I sacrificed my queen but Ishido’s lost two castles.

Yes. But you lost more than a queen in the last play. You lost a ship. A pawn can become a queen—but not a ship!

They were riding downhill in a quick, bone-jarring trot. Below was the sea. They turned a corner on the path and there was Yokohama village, with the wreck just offshore. He could see the plateau where the Musket Regiment were drawn up in battle review with their horses and equipment, muskets in their holsters, other samurai, equally well armed, lining his route as an honor guard nearer the shore. On the outskirts of the village the villagers were kneeling in neat rows waiting to honor him. Beyond them was the galley, the sailors waiting with their captain. On either side of the wharf, fishing boats were beached in meticulous array and he made a mental note to reprimand Naga. He had ordered the regiment ready for instant departure, but to stop fishermen or peasants from fishing or working the fields was irresponsible.

He turned in his saddle and called up a samurai, ordering him to tell Buntaro to go ahead and see that all was safe and prepared. “Then go to the village and dismiss all the villagers to their work, except the headman.”

“Yes, Sire.” The man dug in his spurs and galloped away.

Now Toranaga was near enough to the plateau to distinguish faces. The Anjin-san and Yabu, then Kiri and the Lady Sazuko. His excitement quickened.

Buntaro was galloping down the track, his great bow and two full quivers on his back, half a dozen samurai close behind him. They swung off the track and came out onto the plateau. Instantly he saw Blackthorne and his face became even sterner. Then he reined in and looked around cautiously. A roofed reviewing stand bearing a single cushion was facing the regiment. Another, smaller and lower, was
nearby. Kiri and the Lady Sazuko waited under it. Yabu, as the most senior officer, was at the head of the regiment, Naga on his right, the Anjin-san on his left. All seemed safe, and Buntaro waved the main party onward. The advance guard trotted up, dismounted, and spread protectively around the reviewing stand. Then Toranaga rode into the arena. Naga lifted the battle standard on high. At once the four thousand men shouted, “Toranagaaaaaaa!” and bowed.

Toranaga did not acknowledge their salute. In absolute silence he took stock. He noticed that Buntaro was covertly watching the Anjin-san. Yabu was wearing the sword he had given him, but was very nervous. The Anjin-san’s bow was correct and motionless, the haft of his sword broken. Kiri and his youngest consort were kneeling, their hands flat on the tatamis, their faces demurely lowered. His eyes softened momentarily, then he gazed disapprovingly at the regiment. Every man was still bowing. He did not bow back, just nodded curtly and he felt the tremor that went through the samurai as they straightened up again. Good, he thought, dismounting nimbly, glad that they feared his vengeance. A samurai took his reins and led his horse away as he turned his back on the regiment and, sweat stained like all of them in the humidity, he walked over to his ladies. “So, Kiri-san, welcome home!”

She bowed again joyously. “Thank you, Sire. I never thought I’d have the pleasure of seeing you ever again.”

“Nor I, Lady.” Toranaga let a glimmer of his happiness show. He glanced at the young girl. “So, Sazuko-san? Where’s my son?”

“With his wet nurse, Sire,” she replied breathlessly, basking in his open favor.

“Please send someone to fetch our child at once.”

“Oh please, Sire, with your permission, may I bring him to you myself?”

“Yes, yes, if you wish.” Toranaga smiled and watched her go for a moment, liking her greatly. Again he looked at Kiri. “Is everything all right with you?” he asked for her ears alone.

“Yes, Lord. Oh, yes—and seeing you so strong fills me with gladness.”

“You’ve lost weight, Kiri-chan, and you’re younger than ever.”

“Ah, so sorry, Sire, it’s not true. But thank you, thank you.”

He grinned at her. “Whatever it is then, it suits you. Tragedy—loneliness—being forsaken…. I’m pleased to see you, Kiri-chan.”

“Thank you, Sire. I’m so happy that
her
obedience and sacrifice
unlocked Osaka. It would please
her
greatly, Sire, to know she was successful.”

“First I have to deal with this rabble, then later we’ll talk. There’s lots to talk about,
neh?”

“Yes, oh yes!” Her eyes sparkled. “The Son of Heaven will be delayed,
neh?”

“That would be wise.
Neh?”

“I have a private message from Lady Ochiba.”

“Ah? Good! But it will have to wait.” He paused. “The Lady Mariko, she died honorably? By choice and not by accident or mistake?”

“Mariko-sama
chose
death. It was seppuku. If she hadn’t done what she did, they would have captured her. Oh, Sire, she was so marvelous all those evil days. So brave. And the Anjin-san. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have been captured and shamed. We would all have been captured and shamed.”

“Ah yes, the
ninja.”
Toranaga exhaled, his eyes became jet and she shivered in spite of herself. “Ishido’s got much to answer for, Kiri-chan. Please excuse me.” He stalked over to the reviewing stand and sat, stern and menacing again. His guards surrounded him.

“Omi-san!”

“Yes, Sire?” Omi came forward and bowed, seeming older than before, leaner now.

“Escort the Lady Kiritsubo to her quarters, and make sure mine are adequate. I’ll stay here tonight.”

Omi saluted and walked off and Toranaga was glad to see that the sudden change of plan produced not even a flicker in Omi’s eyes. Good, he thought, Omi’s learning, or his spies have told him I’ve secretly ordered Sudara and Hiro-matsu here so I could not possibly leave until tomorrow.

Now he turned his full attention on the regiment. At his signal Yabu came forward and saluted. He returned the salutation politely. “So, Yabu-san! Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Sire. May I say how happy I am you avoided Ishido’s treachery.”

“Thank you. And you too. Things did not go well at Osaka.
Neh?”

“No. My harmony is destroyed, Sire. I had hoped to lead the retreat from Osaka bringing you both your ladies safely, and your son, and also the Lady Toda, the Anjin-san, and seamen for his ship. Unfortunately, so sorry, we were both betrayed—there and here.”

“Yes.” Toranaga looked at the wreck below that was washed by the sea. Anger flickered across his face and everyone readied for the outburst. But none came. “
Karma,”
he said. “Yes,
karma
, Yabu-san. What can one do against the elements? Nothing. Negligence is another thing. Now, about Osaka, I want to hear everything that happened, in detail—as soon as the regiment’s dismissed and I’ve bathed.”

“I have a report for you in writing, Sire.”

“Good. Thank you, but first I’d prefer you to tell it to me.”

“Is it true the Exalted won’t go to Osaka?”

“What the Exalted decides is up to the Exalted.”

“Do you wish to review the regiment before I dismiss them?” Yabu asked formally.

“Why should I give them that honor? Don’t you know they’re in disgrace, the elements notwithstanding?” he added thinly.

“Yes, Sire. So sorry. Terrible.” Yabu was trying unsuccessfully to read Toranaga’s mind. “I was appalled when I heard what had happened. It seems almost impossible.”

“I agree.” Toranaga’s face darkened and he looked at Naga and beyond him to the massed ranks. “I still fail to understand how there could be such incompetence. I needed that ship!”

Naga was agitated. “Please excuse me, Sire, but do you wish me to make another inquiry?”

“What can you do now that you haven’t already done?”

“I don’t know, Sire, nothing Sire, please excuse me.”

“Your investigation was thorough,
neh?”

“Yes, Sire. Please forgive my stupidity.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t here. Or in command.” Impatiently Toranaga turned back to Yabu. “It’s curious, even sinister, that the shore patrol, the camp patrol, the deck patrol, and the commander were all Izu men on that night—except for the Anjin-san’s few
ronin.”

“Yes, Sire. Curious, but not sinister, so sorry. You were perfectly correct to hold the officers responsible, as Naga-san was to punish the others. So sorry, I made my own investigations as soon as I arrived but I’ve no more information, nothing to add. I agree it’s
karma—karma
helped somehow by manure-eating Christians. Even so, I apologize.”

“Ah, you say it was sabotage?”

“There’s no evidence, Sire, but a tidal wave and simple fire seem
too easy an explanation. Certainly any fire should have been doused. Again I apologize.”

“I accept your apologies but, meanwhile, please tell me how I replace that ship. I need
that
ship!”

Yabu could feel acid in his stomach. “Yes, Sire. I know. So sorry, it cannot be replaced, but the Anjin-san told us during the voyage that soon other fighting ships from his country will come here.”

“How soon?”