Shogun

“So sorry, it’s the change of the guard.”

“Ah, thank you. Please come in.”

Sumiyori opened the door but warily stayed on the threshold. Yabu was touseled, propped in the coverlets on one elbow, his other hand on his sword. When he was sure it was Sumiyori he relaxed and yawned. “Anything new, Captain?”

Sumiyori relaxed also and shook his head, came in and closed the door. The room was large and neat and another bed of futons was laid and turned back invitingly. Arrow slit windows overlooked the avenue and city, a sheer drop of thirty feet below. “Everything’s quiet. She’s sleeping now.?.?.?. At least her maid, Chimmoko, said she was.” He went to the low bureau where an oil lamp spluttered and poured himself cold cha from a pot. Beside it was their pass, formally stamped, that Yabu had brought back from Ishido’s office.

Yabu yawned again and stretched luxuriously. “The Anjin-san?”

“He was awake the last time I checked. That was at midnight. He asked me not to check again until just before dawn—something about his customs. I didn’t understand clearly everything he said, but there’s no harm, there’s very tight security everywhere, neh? Kiritsubo-san and the other ladies are quiet, though she’s been up, Kiritsubo-san, most of the night.”

Yabu got out of bed. He wore only a loincloth. “Doing what?”

“Just sitting at a window, staring out. Nothing to see out there. I suggested she’d better get some sleep. She thanked me politely and agreed and stayed where she was. Women, neh?”

Yabu flexed his shoulders and elbows and scratched vigorously to get his blood flowing. He began to dress. “She should rest. She’s got a long way to go today.”

Sumiyori set the cup down. “I think it’s all a trick.”

“What?”

“I don’t think Ishido means it.”

“We have signed permits. There they are. Every man’s listed. You checked the names. How can he go back on a public commitment to us or to Lady Toda? Impossible, neh?”

“I don’t know. Your pardon, Yabu-san, but I still think it’s a trick.”

Yabu knotted his sash slowly. “What kind of trick?”

“We’ll be ambushed.”

“Outside the castle?”

Sumiyori nodded. “Yes, that’s what I think.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“He’ll dare. He’ll ambush us or delay us. I can’t see him letting her go, or Lady Kiritsubo, or Lady Sazuko or the babe. Even old Lady Etsu and the others.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

Sumiyori shook his head sadly. “I think it would’ve been better if she’d cut deep and you’d struck. This way nothing’s resolved.”

Yabu picked up his swords and stuck them in his belt. Yes, he was thinking, I agree with you. Nothing’s resolved and she failed in her duty. You know it, I know it, and so does Ishido. Disgraceful! If she’d cut, then we would have all lived forever. As it is now .?.?. she came back from the brink and dishonored us and dishonored herself. Shigata ga nai, neh? Stupid woman!

But to Sumiyori he said, “I think you’re wrong. She conquered Ishido. Lady Toda won. Ishido won’t dare to ambush us. Go to sleep, I’ll wake you at dawn.”

Again Sumiyori shook his head. “No, thank you, Yabu-san, I think I’ll go the rounds again.” He went to a window and peered out. “Something’s not right.”

“Everything’s fine. Get some—wait a moment! What was that? Did you hear something?”

Yabu came up to Sumiyori and pretended to search the darkness, listening intently, and then, without warning, he whipped out his short sword and with the same flashing, spontaneous movement, buried the blade into Sumiyori’s back, clapping his other hand over the man’s mouth to stop the shriek. The captain died instantly. Yabu held him carefully at arm’s length with immense strength so that none of the blood stained him, and carried the body over to the futons, arranging it in a sleeping position. Then he pulled out his sword and began to clean it, furious that Sumiyori’s intuition had forced the unplanned killing. Even so, Yabu thought, I can’t have him prowling around now.

Earlier, when Yabu was returning from Ishido’s office with their safe conduct pass, he had been waylaid privately by a samurai he had never seen before.

“Your co-operation’s invited, Yabu-san.”

“To what and by whom?”

“By someone you made an offer to yesterday.”

“What offer?”

“In return for safe conducts for you and the Anjin-san, you’d see she was disarmed during the ambush on your journey.?.?.?. Please don’t touch your sword, Yabu-san, there are four archers waiting for an invitation!”

“How dare you challenge me? What ambush?” he had bluffed, feeling weak at the knees, for there was no doubt now that the man was Ishido’s intermediary. Yesterday afternoon he had made the secret offer through his own intermediaries, in a desperate attempt to salvage something from the wreckage Mariko had caused to his plans for the Black Ship and the future. At the time he had known that it was a wild idea. It would have been difficult, if not impossible, to disarm her and stay alive, therefore fraught with danger to both sides, and when Ishido, through intermediaries, had turned it down he was not surprised.

“I know nothing of any ambush,” he had blustered, wishing that Yuriko were there to help him out of the morass.

“Even so, you’re invited to one, though not the way you planned it.”

“Who are you?”

“In return you get Izu, the barbarian and his ship—the moment the chief enemy’s head is in the dust. Providing, of course, she’s captured alive and you stay in Osaka until the day and swear allegiance.”

“Whose head?” Yabu had said, trying to get his brain working, realizing only now that Ishido had used the request for him to fetch the safe conducts merely as a ruse so the secret offer could be made safely and negotiated.

“Is it yes or no?” the samurai asked.

“Who are you and what are you talking about?” He had held up the scroll. “Here’s Lord Ishido’s safe conduct. Not even the Lord General can cancel these after what’s happened.”

“That’s what many say. But, so sorry, bullocks will shit gold dust before you or any are allowed to insult the Lord Yaemon.?.?.?. Please take your hand away from your sword!”

“Then watch your tongue!”

“Of course, so sorry. You agree?”

“I’m overlord of Izu now, and promised Totomi and Suruga,” Yabu had said, beginning to bargain. He knew that though he was trapped, as Mariko was trapped, so equally was Ishido trapped, because the dilemma Mariko had precipitated still existed.

“Yes, so you are,” the samurai had said. “But I’m not permitted to negotiate. Those are the terms. Is it yes or no??.?.?.”

Yabu finished cleaning his sword and arranged the sheet over the seemingly sleeping figure of Sumiyori. Then he toweled the sweat off his face and hands, composed his rage, blew out the candle, and opened the door. The two Browns were waiting some paces down the corridor. They bowed.

“I’ll wake you at dawn, Sumiyori-san,” Yabu said to the darkness. Then, to one of the samurai, “You stand guard here. No one’s to go in. No one! Make sure the captain’s not disturbed—he needs rest.”

“Yes, Sire.”

The samurai took up his new post and Yabu strode off down the corridor with the other guard, went up a flight of steps to the main central section of this floor and crossed it, heading for the audience room and inner apartments that were in the east wing. Soon he came to the cul-de-sac corridor of the audience room. Guards bowed and allowed him to enter. Other samurai opened the door to the corridor and complex of private quarters. He