Shōgun

“Our main attack goes through Zataki’s mountains. This is a feint.” Toranaga was appraising his son very carefully. But Sudara revealed nothing, neither surprise nor approval nor disapproval.

“Ah. So sorry. Please excuse me, Sire.”

“With Yabu gone, who’s to command the guns?”

“Kasigi Omi.”

“Why?”

“He understands them. More than that, he’s modern, very brave, very intelligent, very patient—also very dangerous, more dangerous than his uncle. I counsel that if you win, and if he survives, then find some excuse to invite him Onward.”

“If I win?”

“Crimson Sky has always been a last plan. You’ve said it a hundred times. If we get mauled on the Tokaidō, Zataki will sweep down into the plains. The guns won’t help us then. It’s a last plan. You’ve never liked last plans.”

“And the Anjin-san? What do you advise about him?”

“I agree with Omi-san and Naga-san. He should be bottled up. The rest of his men are nothing—they’re eta and they’ll cannibalize themselves soon, so they’re nothing. I advise that all foreigners should be bottled up or thrown out. They’re a plague—to be treated as such.”

“Then there’s no silk trade. Neh?”

“If that was the price then I’d pay it. They’re a plague.”

“But we must have silk and, to protect ourselves, we must learn about them, learn what they know, neh?”

“They should be confined to Nagasaki, under very close guard, and their numbers strictly limited. They could still trade once a year. Isn’t money their essential motive? Isn’t that what the Anjin-san says?”

“Ah, then he is useful?”

“Yes. Very. He’s taught us the wisdom of the Expulsion Edicts. The Anjin-san is very wise, very brave. But he’s a toy. He amuses you, Sire, like Tetsu-ko, so he’s valuable, though still a toy.”

Toranaga said, “Thank you for your opinions. Once the attack is launched you will return to Yedo and wait for further orders.” He said it hard and deliberately. Zataki still held the Lady Genjiko and their son and three daughters hostage at his capital of Takato. At Toranaga’s request Zataki had granted Sudara a leave of absence, but only for ten days, and Sudara had solemnly agreed to the bargain and to return within that time. Zataki was famous for his narrow-mindedness about honor. Zataki would and could legally obliterate all the hostages on this point of honor, irrespective of any overt or covert treaty or agreement. Both Toranaga and Sudara knew without any doubt Zataki would do that if Sudara did not return as promised. “You will wait at Yedo for further orders.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“You will leave for Mishima at once.”

“Then it will save time if I go that way.” Sudara pointed at the junction ahead.

“Yes. I’ll send you a dispatch tomorrow.”

Sudara bowed and went to his horse and, with his twenty guards, rode off.

Toranaga picked up the bowl and took a remaining morsel of the now cold noodles. “Oh, Sire, so sorry, do you want some more?” the young maid said breathlessly, running up. She was round-faced and not pretty, but sharp and observant—just as he liked his serving maids, and his women. “No, thank you. What’s your name?”

“Yuki, Sire.”

“Tell your master he makes good noodles, Yuki.”

“Yes, Sire, thank you. Thank you, Sire, for honoring our house. Just raise a knuckle joint for whatever you require and you’ll have it instantly.”

He winked at her and she laughed, collected his tray, and hurried off. Containing his impatience, he checked the far bend in the road, then examined his surroundings. The inn was in good repair, the tiled surrounds to the well clean and the earth broomed. Out in the courtyard and all around, his men waited patiently but he could detect nervousness in the Hunt Master and decided that today was the man’s last day of active duty. If Toranaga had been seriously concerned with the hunt for itself alone, he would have told him to go back to Yedo now, giving him a generous pension, and appointed another in his place.

That’s the difference between me and Sudara, he thought without malice. Sudara wouldn’t hesitate. Sudara would order the man to commit seppuku now, which would save the pension and all further bother and increase the expertise of the replacement. Yes, my son, I know you very well. You’re most important to me.

What about Lady Genjiko and their children? he asked himself, bringing to the fore that vital question. If the Lady Genjiko were not sister to Ochiba—her favorite and cherished sister—I would regretfully allow Zataki to eliminate them all now and so save Sudara an enormous amount of danger in the future, if I die soon, because they are his only weak link. But fortunately Genjiko is Ochiba’s sister, and so an important piece in the Great Game, and I don’t have to allow that to happen. I should but I won’t. This time I have to gamble. So I’ll remind myself Genjiko’s valuable in other ways—she’s as sharp as a shark’s spine, makes fine children, and is as fanatically ruthless over her nest as Ochiba, with one enormous difference: Genjiko is loyal to me first, Ochiba to the Heir first.