Shogun

new guild of courtesans, whoever rules the Kwanto. Soon you’ll be the greatest of all Mama-sans, and whatever happens, well, Kiku-san’s still your protegee and her youth’s not touched, neither is her karma. Neh?”

“My only concern is for Lord Toranaga,” Gyoko answered with practiced gravity, her anus twitching at the thought of two thousand five hundred koku so nearly in her strong room. “If there is any way I could help him I would—”

“How generous of you, Gyoko-san! I’ll tell him of your offer. Yes, a thousand koku off the price would help very much. I accept on his behalf.”

Gyoko fluttered her fan, put a gracious smile on her face, and just managed not to wail aloud at her imbecility for jumping into a trap like a sake-besotted novice. “Oh no, Lady Toda, how could money help so generous a patron? No, clearly money’s no help to him,” she babbled, trying to recover. “No, money’s no help. Better information or a service or—”

“Please excuse me, what information?”

“None, none at the moment. I was just using that as a figure of speech, so sorry. But money—”

“Ah, so sorry, yes. Well, I’ll tell him of your offer. And of your generosity. On his behalf, thank you.”

Gyoko bowed at the dismissal and scuttled back into the inn. Mariko’s little laugh trickled out. “What are you laughing at, Mariko-san?”

She told him what had been said. “Mama-sans must be the same the world over. She’s just worried about her money.”

“Will Lord Toranaga pay even though?.?.?.” Blackthorne stopped. Mariko waited guilelessly. Then, under her gaze, he continued, “Father Alvito said when Lord Toranaga goes to Osaka, he’s finished.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Anjin-san, that’s most very true,” Mariko said with a brightness she did not feel. Then she put Toranaga and Osaka into their compartments and was tranquil again. “But Osaka’s many leagues away and countless sticks of time in the future, and until that time when what is to be is, Ishido doesn’t know, the good Father doesn’t truly know, we don’t know, no one knows what will truly happen. Neh? Except the Lord God. But He won’t tell us, will He? Until perhaps it has already come to pass. Neh?”

“Hai!” He laughed with her. “Ah, you’re so wise.”

“Thank you. I have a suggestion, Anjin-san. During the journey time, let us forget all outside problems. All of them.”

“Thou,” he said in Latin. “It is good to see thee.”

“And thee. Extraordinary care in front of both women during our journey is very necessary, neh?”

“Depend on it, Lady.”

“I do. In truth I do very much.”

“Now we are almost alone, neh? Thou and I.”

“Yes. But what was is not and never happened.”

“True. Yes. Thou art correct again. And beautiful.”

A samurai strode through the gateway and saluted her. He was middle-aged with graying hair, his face pitted, and he walked with a slight limp. “Please excuse me, Lady Toda, but we’ll leave at dawn, neh?”

“Yes, Yoshinaka-san. But it doesn’t matter if we’re delayed till noon, if you wish. We’ve plenty of time.”

“Yes. As you prefer, let us leave at noon. Good evening, Anjin-san. Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Akira Yoshinaka, captain of your escort.”

“Good evening, Captain.”

Yoshinaka turned back to Mariko. “I’m responsible for you and him, Lady, so please tell him I’ve ordered two men to sleep in his room by night as his personal guards. Then there’ll be ten sentries on duty nightly. They’ll be all around you. I’ve a hundred men in all.”

“Very well, Captain. But, so sorry, it would be better not to station any men in the Anjin-san’s room. It’s a very serious custom of theirs to sleep alone, or alone with one lady. My maid will probably be with him, so he’ll be protected. Please keep the guards around but not too close, then he won’t be unsettled.”

Yoshinaka scratched his head and frowned. “Very well, Lady. Yes, I’ll agree to that, though my way’s more sensible. Then, so sorry, then please ask him not to go on any of these night walks of his. Until we get to Yedo I’m responsible and when I’m responsible for very important persons I get very nervous.” He bowed stiffly and went away.

“The Captain asks you not to walk off by yourself during our journey. If you get up at night, always take a samurai with you, Anjin-san. He says this would help him.”

“All right. Yes, I’ll do that.” Blackthorne was watching him leave. “What else did he say? I caught something about sleeping? I couldn’t understand him very—” He stopped. Kiku came from within. She wore a bathrobe with a towel decorously swathed around her hair. Barefoot, she sauntered toward the hot-spring bath house, half bowed to them, and waved gaily. They returned her salutation.

Blackthorne took in her long legs and the sinuousness of her walk until she disappeared. He felt Mariko’s eyes watching him closely and looked back at her. “No,” he said blandly and shook his head.

She laughed. “I thought it might be difficult—might be uncomfortable for you, to have her just as a traveling companion after such a special pillowing.”

“Uncomfortable, no. On the contrary, very pleasant. I’ve very pleasant memories. I’m glad she belongs to Lord Toranaga now. That makes everything easy, for her and for him. And everyone.” He was going to add, everyone except Omi, but thought better of it. “After all, to me she was only a very special, glorious gift. Nothing more. Neh?”

“She was a gift, yes.”

He wanted to touch Mariko. But he did not. Instead he turned and stared up at the pass, not sure what he read behind her eyes. Night obscured the pass now. And the clouds. Water dripped nicely from the roof. “What else did the Captain say?”

“Nothing of importance, Anjin-san.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Their journey to Mishima took nine days, and every night, for part of the night, they were together. Secretly. Unwittingly Yoshinaka assisted them. At each inn he would naturally choose adjacent rooms for all of them. “I hope you do not object, Lady, but this will make security much easier,” he would always say, and Mariko would agree and take the center room, Kiku and Gyoko to one side, Blackthorne to the other. Then, in the dark of the night she would leave her maid, Chimmoko, and go to him. With adjoining rooms, coupled with the usual chatter and night sounds and singing and carousing of other travelers with their swarms of ever-present, anxious-to-please maids, the alert outward-guarding sentries were none the wiser. Only Chimmoko was privy to the secret.

Mariko was aware that eventually Gyoko, Kiku, and all the women in their party would know. But this did not worry her. She was samurai and they were not. Her word would carry against theirs, unless she was caught blatantly, and no samurai, not even Yoshinaka, would normally dare to open her door by night, uninvited. As far as everyone was concerned Blackthorne shared his bed with Chimmoko, or one of the maids in the inn. It was no one’s business but his. So only a woman could betray her, and if she was betrayed, her betrayer and all the women of the party would die an even more vulgar and more lingering death than hers for so disgusting a betrayal. Then too, if she wished, before they reached Mishima or Yedo, all knew she could have them put to death at her whim for the slightest indiscretion, real or alleged. Mariko was sure Toranaga would not object to a killing. Certainly he would applaud Gyoko’s and, in her private heart, Mariko was sure he would not object even to Kiku’s. Two and a half thousand koku could buy many a courtesan of the First Rank.

So she felt safe from the women. But not from Blackthorne, much as she loved him now. He was not Japanese. He had not been trained from birth to build the inner, impenetrable fences behind which to hide. His face or manner or pride would betray them. She was not afraid for herself. Only for him.