Shogun

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. “Sake, 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. Sake, Gyoko-san?”

“Thank you, thank you. The sake’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 sake 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. Sake?”

“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 wordly, 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 sake, 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