Shōgun

Outside the gateway Omi was mounting his horse and he galloped off with his guards, faster and ever faster, the speed refreshing him, cleansing him, the pungent sweat-smell of his horse pleasing. He did not look back at her because there was no need. He knew that he had left all his life’s passion, and everything that he had adored, at her feet. He was sure he would never know passion again, the spirit-joining ecstasy that ignited man and woman. But this did not displease him. On the contrary, he thought with a newfound icy clarity, I bless Toranaga for releasing me from servitude. Now nothing binds me. Neither father nor mother nor Kiku. Now I can be patient too. I’m twenty-one, I’m almost daimyo of Izu, and I’ve a world to conquer.

“Yes, Sire?” Fujiko was saying.

“You’re to go direct from here to Anjiro. I’ve decided to change the Anjin-san’s fief from around Yokohama to Anjiro. Twenty ri in every direction from the village, with a yearly income of four thousand koku. You’ll take over Omi-san’s house.”

“May I thank you on his behalf, Sire. So sorry, do I understand that he doesn’t know about this yet?”

“No. I’ll tell him today. I’ve ordered him to build another ship, Fujiko-san, to replace the one lost, and Anjiro will be a perfect shipyard, much better than Yokohama. I’ve arranged with the Gyoko woman for her eldest son to be business overseer for the Anjin-san, and all materials and craftsmen will be paid for out of my treasury. You’ll have to help him set up some form of administration.”

“Oh ko, Sire,” she said, immediately concerned. “My time remaining with the Anjin-san will be so short.”

“Yes. I’ll have to find him another consort—or wife. Neh?”

Fujiko looked up, her eyes narrowing. Then she said, “Please, how may I help?”

Toranaga said, “Whom would you suggest? I want the Anjin-san to be content. Contented men work better, neh?”

“Yes.” Fujiko reached into her mind. Who would compare with Mariko-sama? Then she smiled. “Sire, Omi-san’s present wife, Midori-san. His mother hates her, as you know, and wants Omi divorced—so sorry, but she had the astounding bad manners to say it in front of me. Midori-san’s such a lovely lady and, oh, so very clever.”

“You think Omi wants to be divorced?” Another piece of the puzzle fell in place.

“Oh, no, Sire, I’m sure he doesn’t. What man wants really to obey his mother? But that’s our law, so he should have divorced her the first time his parents mentioned it, neh? Even though his mother’s very bad tempered, she surely knows what’s best for him, of course. So sorry, I have to be truthful as this is a most important matter. Of course I mean no offense, Sire, but filial duty to one’s parents is the corner post of our law.”

“I agree,” Toranaga said, pondering this fortunate new thought. “The Anjin-san would consider Midori-san a good suggestion?”

“No, Sire, not if you ordered the marriage . . . but, so sorry, there’s no need for you to order him.”

“Oh?”

“You could perhaps think of a way to make him think of it himself. That would certainly be best. With Omi-san, of course, you just order him.”

“Of course. You’d approve of Midori-san?”

“Oh, yes. She’s seventeen, her present son’s healthy, she’s from good samurai stock, so she’d give the Anjin-san fine sons. I suppose Omi’s parents will insist Midori give up her son to Omi-san, but if they don’t the Anjin-san could adopt him. I know my Master likes her because Mariko-sama told me she teased him about her. She’s very good samurai stock, very prudent, very clever. Oh, yes, he’d be very safe with her. Also her parents are both dead now so there’d be no ill feeling from them about her marrying a—marrying the Anjin-san.”

Toranaga toyed with the idea. I’ve certainly got to keep Omi off balance, he told himself. Young Omi can become a thorn in my side too easily. Well, I won’t have to do anything to get Midori divorced. Omi’s father will absolutely have definite last wishes before he commits seppuku and his wife will certainly insist the most important last thing he does on this earth will be to get their son married correctly. So Midori will be divorced within a few days anyway. Yes, she’d be a very good wife.

“If not her, Fujiko-san, what about Kiku? Kiku-san?”

Fujiko gaped at him. “Oh, so sorry, Sire, you’re going to relinquish her?”

“I might. Well?”

“I would have thought Kiku-san would be a perfect unofficial consort, Sire. She’s so brilliant and wonderful. Though I can see she would be an enormous distraction for an ordinary man, and, so sorry, it would be years before the Anjin-san would be able to appreciate the rare quality of her singing or dancing or wit. As wife?” she asked, with just enough emphasis to indicate absolute disapproval. “Ladies of the Willow World aren’t usually trained the same as . . . as others are, Sire. Their talents lie elsewhere. To be responsible for the finances and the affairs of a samurai house is different from the Floating World.”

“Could she learn?”