With his regal seal and a few brushstrokes, Hideyoshi himself rendered that possibility both illegal and—far more importantly—dishonorable.
“Very well,” Shichio said impatiently, passing the little writing tablet to Hideyoshi, who, having signed, had the manservant pass it to Mio. “Does that satisfy you?” Shichio asked. “Would you like anyone else to sign? The emperor, perhaps? Or would you like to see if the gods are busy this afternoon?”
“No,” Daigoro said, “this is quite enough, General.” He brushed the characters on each page, not Okuma Izu-no-kami Daigoro but simply Daigoro. It was the first time he’d ever signed that way.
He handed Shichio a copy of the signed treaty along with a second scroll. He did not hand over Glorious Victory Unsought.
“What is this?” Shichio snatched both documents from Daigoro like a dog stealing food from a table. Tossing aside the truce he’d just signed, he hunched over the second scroll and read it with a frown that deepened with every passing line.
“Damn you, Okuma, what is the meaning of this?”
“My name isn’t Okuma anymore,” Daigoro said. “I have formally relinquished both name and title.”
“No,” Mio said, aghast. “Okuma-san, what have you done?”
“I could not retain my father’s name and my father’s sword. General Shichio saw to that. As I am honor- bound to protect both, I can only keep his sword by relinquishing his name. And now, thanks to you three noble men, my family is protected too. I thank you all.”
“Pah!” Shichio threw the scroll into the pond. Carp scattered away as if it were a pouncing cat, and the ink from it sent little black snakes swimming through the water. “What do I care what you call yourself? The Inazuma is mine.”
“The Okumas’ Inazuma is yours,” said Daigoro. “I am no longer an Okuma.”
Shichio rose to his feet. “A technicality! Give me your sword!”
“If you care to wet your feet, General, you may yet be able to make out the date on that scroll. I delivered a copy to my family at the same time I signed this one—three days ago. The decree you’ve fed to your master’s carp takes precedence over the treaty you signed with me.”
Shichio was fuming. General Mio gave a little snort. Hideyoshi laughed so hard he nearly fell off his bench.
His laughter only angered Shichio further. His carefully preened hair released a few rogue strands to stray across his face, and when he pushed them away from his sweating forehead he knocked loose even more. “No!” he shrieked. “
“An Okuma,” Daigoro said, “or their duly appointed representative. You there—Jun, isn’t it?—read the first sentence of our treaty.”
Already on his knees, the gaunt young man scrambled across the grass for the truce. “‘On behalf of the Okuma clan—’”
“There,” said Daigoro, “do you see?”
“Ha!” Hideyoshi’s laugh came with the force of a musket ball. “He’s got you there, Shichio. Clever, isn’t he?”
“Very,” Mio said solemnly. “Daigoro-san, what have you done?”
“He’s outfoxed the fox,” said Hideyoshi, still enjoying himself immensely. “Signing on behalf of his family instead of as one of them! I like this little bastard.”
“He is insolent,” said Shichio, his voice warmer that it should have been—warm as a serpent’s, whispering in Hideyoshi’s ear. “You ought to reprimand him. He disrespects you.”
“Maybe so,” said Hideyoshi, “but he sure is good for a laugh. Okuma-san—or Daigoro, or whatever the hell you’re calling yourself—I swear, if I had a thousand officers like you, I’d have conquered China by now.”
Daigoro bowed deeply. The regent just shook his head and snickered. “I’d offer you room and board for the night, you and your bodyguard too, but even I couldn’t vouch for your safety. Shichio wouldn’t sleep until someone put a knife in you.”
“A knife!” Katsushima said the word with disdain; it was a child’s toy, better suited for whittling than for a fight between grown men. “Let him go and fetch one. I’ll wait.”
“Mind the laws of hospitality,” General Mio said in a warning tone. “If guests provoke a fight in another man’s home, the penalty for the instigator is death.”
“I’m happy to pay the price,” said Katsushima. “If he wants to pretend at wearing a sword, let him draw it. If not, let him go and get his knife.”
“Easy, now,” said Hideyoshi, suddenly as cold as an ice storm. “Don’t go spoiling things now that you’re ahead.”
“My lord regent,” Daigoro said, “the treaty—”
“Yes, yes, the treaty. Don’t worry, boy; it’s as good as my word—and I know you don’t think much of a peasant’s word, but trust me, I’ve no plans to wipe out your family. Hell, just keeping the treaty in force will be enough to entertain me for years. You have no idea what fits of madness I can expect to see from Shichio over this.”
And just like that, Hideyoshi was warm and sunny again. Suddenly Daigoro understood why the man was so dangerous. With a hundred thousand troops at his back, a mind like his could tear down the world—and Hideyoshi could muster a million if he had a mind to.
But capricious as he was, the regent was still a keen judge of character. Just as he’d said, Shichio was apoplectic. The peacock tried to speak, maybe even tried to scream, but his anger choked him. The sight of it made Hideyoshi snort and snigger.
“I daresay it’s best for you to take your leave,” said General Mio. He eyed Shichio as if he were not a peacock but a rabid dog. “Sooner would be better than later.” Rising noisily to his feet, Mio led Daigoro and Katsushima out of the garden.
37
When they reached the stables, Mio said, “Do you have any idea what trouble you’ve caused?”
“General, my most heartfelt apologies,” Daigoro said. “You must understand, I needed one who lives by the code to sign with him—”
“Oh, I understand well enough. But I did not speak of the troubles you’ve caused for me—though you’ve released a flock of them, damn you. I was speaking of the troubles you’ve caused for yourself. You are no longer lord protector of Izu. You’ve no title to protect you anymore.”
Daigoro nodded. The full weight of his decision had not yet settled on him, and now he wasn’t sure he could bear it once it fell. “What other choice was left to me?” he said.
“None,” Mio said with a shrug. “But have no fear; I’ll keep an eye on Shichio for you. Even so, it is in his nature to look for a way out of the treaty. I cannot promise he won’t find one.”
“He won’t. I thought it through.”
Mio laughed his deep, booming laugh. “That you did. The regent wasn’t wrong, you know. With a thousand officers who think like you, we could conquer the world. It’s a shame you surrendered your troops when you surrendered your title.”
“They’re safer without me at their head.”
“And yet there’s not a one of them who wouldn’t die for you. You’re a good leader, son. They won’t forgive you easily for leaving them.”
Daigoro swallowed. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Few leaders do. But a commander can abandon his troops just as well as a soldier can abandon his post. They’ll be adrift for a while. Your family will be vulnerable.”
“But Shichio—”
“Yes. Shichio.” A frown soured Mio’s face. “He cannot touch your family. You’ve seen to that, and I will see to the rest. By this time tomorrow, all of the regent’s high command will know your family is untouchable. But have no doubt, Master Bear Cub: he will send people for
