Shogun

“Christ Jesus! What’s go—”

“Ninjaaaaaa!” Mariko shouted as Kiri and Lady Sazuko and Lady Etsu and Chimmoko and Achiko and the other maids poured hysterically from their rooms, blows hammering on the door.

“Quick, this way!” Kiri screamed over the uproar and fled into the interior.

The women followed, helter-skelter, two of them helping old Lady Etsu. Blackthorne saw the door rocking under the furious blows of the assault jimmies. Now the wood was splintering. Blackthorne ran back into his room for his powder horn and swords.

In the audience room the ninja had already disposed of the six Browns and Grays at the main outer door and had overwhelmed the rest in the corridor beyond. But they had lost two dead, and two were wounded before the fight was complete, the outer doors closed and barred, and this whole section secure.

“Hurry up,” the new red-spot leader snarled. The men with the crowbars needed no urging as they ripped at the door. For a moment the leader stood over the corpse of his brother, then kicked it furiously, knowing his brother’s impatience had destroyed their surprise attack. He rejoined his men, who circled the door.

In the corridor Blackthorne was reloading rapidly, the door shrieking under the blows. First the powder, tamp it carefully .?.?. one of the door panels cracked .?.?. next the paper plug to hold the charge tight and next the lead ball and another plug .?.?. one of the door hinges snapped and the tip of the jimmy came through .?.?. next, blow the dust carefully away from the flint.?.?.?.

“Anjin-san!” Mariko cried out from somewhere in the inner rooms. “Hurry!”

But Blackthorne paid no attention. He walked up to the door and put the nozzle to a splintered crack, stomach high, and pulled the trigger. From the other side of the door there was a scream and the assault on the door ceased. He retreated and began to reload. First powder, tamp it carefully .?.?. again the whole door shook as men tore at it with shoulders and raging fists and feet and weapons .?.?. next the holding paper and next the ball and next another paper .?.?. the door bellowed and shuddered and one of the bolts sprang away and clattered to the floor.?.?.?.

Kiri was hurrying down an inner passageway, gasping for breath, the others half-dragging Lady Etsu with them, Sazuko crying, “What’s the point, there’s nowhere to go?.?.?.” but Kiri ran on, stumbling into another room and across it and she pulled a section of the shoji wall aside. A hidden iron-fortified door was set into the stone wall beyond. She pulled it open. The hinges were well oiled.

“This .?.?. this is my Master’s sec—secret haven,” she panted and started to go inside but stopped. “Where’s Mariko?”

Chimmoko turned and rushed back.

In the first corridor Blackthorne blew the dust carefully away from the flint and walked forward again. The door was near collapsing but still offered cover. Again he pulled the trigger. Again a scream and a moment’s respite, then the blows commenced, another bolt flew off and the whole door teetered. He began to reload.

“Anjin-san!” Mariko was there at the far end beckoning him frantically so he snatched up his weapons and rushed toward her. She turned and fled, guiding him. The door shattered and the ninja tore after them.

Mariko was running fast, Blackthorne on her heels. She sped across a room, tripped over her skirts and fell. He grabbed her up and together they bolted across another room. Chimmoko ran up to them. “Hurry!” she shrieked, waiting for them to pass. She followed for a moment, then, unnoticed, she turned back and stood in the path, her knife out.

Ninja came rushing into the room. Chimmoko hurled herself, knife outstretched, at the first man. He parried the blow and flung her aside like a toy, charging after Blackthorne and Mariko. The last man broke Chimmoko’s neck with his foot and rushed on.

Mariko was running fast but not fast enough, her skirts inhibiting her, Blackthorne trying to help. They crossed a room, then turned right, into another, and he saw the doorway, Kiri and Sazuko waiting there terrified, Achiko and maids succoring the old women in the room behind them. He shoved Mariko to safety. Then he turned at bay, his uncharged pistol in one hand, sword in the other, expecting Chimmoko. When she didn’t appear at once, he began to go back but heard the approaching charge of the ninja. He stopped and leaped backward into the room as the first ninja appeared. He slammed the door, and spears and shuriken screeched off the iron. Again he barely had time to shove the bolts home before the attackers hurtled against it.

Numbly he thanked God for their escape and then, when he saw the strength of the door and knew that jimmies could not break it easily and that they were safe for the moment, he thanked God again. Trying to catch his breath, he looked around. Mariko was on her knees gulping for air. There were six maids, Achiko, Kiri and Sazuko, and the old lady, who lay gray-faced, almost unconscious. The room was small and stone-walled and another side door let out onto a small battlement veranda. He groped over to a window and looked out. This corner abutment overhung the avenue and forecourt, and he could hear sounds of the battle wafting up from below, screams and shouts and a few hysterical battle cries. Several Grays and unattached samurai were already beginning to collect in the avenue and on the opposite battlements. The gates below were locked against them and held by the ninja.

“What the hell’s going on?” Blackthorne said, his chest aching.

No one answered him and he went back and knelt beside Mariko and shook her gently. “What’s going on?” But she could not answer yet.

Yabu was running down a wide corridor in the west wing toward his sleeping quarters. He turned a corner and skidded to a stop. Ahead a large number of samurai were being pressed back by a ferocious counterattack of raiders who had rushed down from the top floor.

“What’s going on?” Yabu shouted over the din, for no raiders were supposed to be here, only below.

“They’re all over us,” a samurai panted. “These came from above.?.?.?.”

Yabu cursed, realizing he had been duped and not told the whole of the attack plan. “Where’s Sumiyori?”

“He must be dead. They’ve overwhelmed that section, Sire. You were lucky to escape yourself. They must have struck shortly after you left. What are ninja attacking for?”

A flurry of shouts distracted them. At the far end, Browns launched another counterattack around a corner, covering samurai who fought with spears. The spearmen drove the ninja back, and the Browns charged in pursuit. But a cloud of shuriken enveloped this wave and soon they were screaming and dying, blocking the passageway, the poison convulsing them. Momentarily the rest of the Browns retreated out of range to regroup.

Yabu, unendangered, shouted, “Get bowmen!” Men rushed off to obey.

“What’s the attack all about? Why are they in force?” the samurai asked again, blood streaking his face from a cheek wound. Normally the detested ninja attacked singly or in small groups, to vanish as quickly as they appeared once their mission was accomplished.

“I don’t know,” Yabu said, this whole section of the castle now in uproar, the Browns still uncoordinated, still off-balance from the terrifying swiftness of the onslaught.

“If—if Toranaga-sama were here I could understand Ishido ordering a sudden attack but—but why now?” the samurai said. “There’s no one or noth—” He stopped as the realization struck him. “Lady Toda!”

Yabu tried to override him, but the man bellowed, “They’re after her, Yabu-san! They must be after Lady Toda!” He led a rush for the east wing. Yabu hesitated, then followed.

To get to the east wing they had to cross the central landing that the ninja now held in strength. Samurai dead were everywhere. Goaded by the knowledge that their revered leader was in danger, the first impetuous charge broke through the cordon. But these men were cut down swiftly. Now more of their comrades had taken up the shouts and the news spread rapidly and the Browns redoubled their efforts. Yabu rushed up to direct the fight, staying in safety as much as he dared. A ninja ripped open his haversack and lit a fused gourd from a wall flare and hurled it over the Browns. It shattered against a wall and exploded, scattering fire and smoke, and at once this ninja led a counterattack that threw the Browns into a burning, disordered rout. Under cover of the smoke ninja