Shōgun

“Anything’s possible. But ninja wouldn’t be like him. He’s too clever to use them. Or get anyone to do that. They’re not to be trusted. And why force Mariko-sama? Far better to wait and let us make the mistake. We were trapped. Neh?”

“Yes. We’re still trapped.” Kiyama looked at Ishido. “And whoever ordered the attack was a fool, and did us no service.”

“Perhaps the Lord General’s correct, that it’s not as serious as we think,” Ito said. “But so sad—not an elegant death for her, poor lady.”

“That was her karma and we’re not trapped.” Ishido stared back at Kiyama. “It was fortunate she had that bolt hole to run to, otherwise those vermin would have captured her.”

“But they didn’t capture her, Lord General, and she committed a form of seppuku and so did the others and now, if we don’t let everyone go, there’ll be more protest deaths and we cannot afford that,” Kiyama said.

“I don’t agree. Everyone should stay here—at least until Toranaga-sama crosses into our domains.”

Ito smiled. “That will be a memorable day.”

“You don’t think he will?” Zataki asked.

“What I think has no value, Lord Zataki. We’ll soon know what he’s going to do. Whatever it is makes no difference. Toranaga must die, if the Heir is to inherit.” Ito looked at Ishido. “Is the barbarian dead yet, Lord General?”

Ishido shook his head and watched Kiyama. “It would be bad luck for him to die now, or to be maimed—a brave man like that. Neh?”

“I think he’s a plague and the sooner he dies the better. Have you forgotten?”

“He could be useful to us. I agree with Lord Zataki—and you—Toranaga’s no fool. There’s got to be a good reason for Toranaga’s cherishing him. Neh?”

“Yes, you’re right again,” Ito said. “The Anjin-san did well for a barbarian, didn’t he? Toranaga was right to make him samurai.” He looked at Ochiba. “When he gave you the flower, Lady, I thought that was a poetic gesture worthy of a courtier.”

There was general agreement.

“What about the poetry competition now, Lady?” Ito asked.

“It should be canceled, so sorry,” Ochiba said.

“Yes,” Kiyama agreed.

“Had you decided on your entry, Sire?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.” But now I could say:

“On a withered branch
The tempest fell. . . .
Dark summer’s tears.”

“Let it be her epitaph. She was samurai,” Ito said quietly. “I share this summer’s tears.”

“For me,” Ochiba said, “for me I would have preferred a different ending:

“On a withered branch
The snow listened. . . .
Winter’s silence.

But I agree, Lord Ito. I too think we will all share in this dark summer’s tears.”

“No, so sorry, Lady, but you’re wrong,” Ishido said. “There will be tears all right, but Toranaga and his allies will shed them.” He began to bring the meeting to a close. “I’ll start an inquiry into the ninja attack at once. I doubt if we’ll ever discover the truth. Meanwhile, for security and personal safety, all passes will regretfully be canceled and everyone regretfully forbidden to leave until the twenty-second day.”

“No,” Onoshi the leper, the last of the Regents, said from his lonely place across the room where he lay, unseen, behind the opaque curtains of his litter. “So sorry, but that’s exactly what you can’t do. Now you must let everyone go. Everyone.”

“Why?”

Onoshi’s voice was malevolent and unafraid. “If you don’t, you dishonor the bravest Lady in the realm, you dishonor the Lady Kiyama Achiko and the Lady Maeda, God have mercy on their souls. When this filthy act is common knowledge, only God the Father knows what damage it will cause the Heir—and all of us, if we’re not careful.”

Ochiba felt a chill rush through her. A year ago, when Onoshi had come to pay his respects to the dying Taikō, the guards had insisted the litter curtains be opened in case Onoshi had weapons concealed, and she had seen the ravaged half-face—noseless, earless, scabbed—the burning, fanatic eyes, the stump of the left hand and the good right hand grasping the short stabbing sword.

Lady Ochiba prayed that neither she nor Yaemon would ever catch leprosy. She, too, wanted an end to this conference, for she had to decide now what to do—what to do about Toranaga and what to do about Ishido.

“Second,” Onoshi was saying, “if you use this filthy attack as an excuse to hold anyone here, you imply you never intended to let them go even though you gave your solemn written undertaking. Third: you—”

Ishido interrupted, “The whole Council agreed to issue the safe conducts!”

“So sorry, the whole Council agreed to the wise suggestion of the Lady Ochiba to offer safe conducts, presuming, with her, that few would take advantage of the opportunity to leave, and even if they did delays would occur.”

“You suggest Toranaga’s women and Toda Mariko wouldn’t have left and that others wouldn’t have followed?”