Shōgun

In the corridor of this, the west wing, Sumiyori was approaching with ten Browns. He dropped two off near the battlement door and, not stopping, walked on. These two reliefs went out onto the battlement as Sumiyori turned the far corner and went down a flight of circular steps. At the bottom was another checkpoint and the two tired samurai bowed and were replaced.

“Pick up the others and go back to your quarters. You’ll be wakened at dawn,” Sumiyori said.

“Yes, Captain.”

The two samurai walked back up the steps, glad to be off duty. Sumiyori continued on down the next corridor, replacing sentries. At length he stopped outside a door and knocked, the last two guards with him.

“Yabu-san?”

“Yes?” The voice was sleepy.

“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?”