Shogun (92 page)

“You acknowledge me your feudal lord?” Toranaga had said.

“Yes. And all the men of Izu. And Lord, please accept this gift as a token of filial duty.” Still on his knees, Yabu had offered his Murasama sword. “This is the sword that murdered your grandfather.”

“That’s not possible!”

Yabu had told him the history of the sword, how it had come down
to him over the years and how, only recently, he had learned of its true identity. He summoned Suwo. The old man told what he had witnessed when he himself was little more than a boy.

“It’s true, Lord,” Suwo had said proudly. “No man saw Obata’s father break the sword or cast it into the sea. And I swear by my hope of samurai rebirth that I served your grandfather, Lord Chikitada. I served him faithfully until that day he died. I was there, I swear it.”

Toranaga had accepted the sword. It seemed to quiver with malevolence in his hand. He had always scoffed at the legend that certain swords possessed a killing urge of their own, that some swords needed to leap out of the scabbard to drink blood, but now Toranaga believed it.

He shuddered, remembering that day. Why do Murasama blades hate us? One killed my grandfather. Another almost cut off my arm when I was six, an unexplained accident, no one near but still my sword arm was slashed and I nearly bled to death. A third decapitated my first-born son.

“Sire,” Yabu had said, “such a befouled blade shouldn’t be allowed to live,
neh?
Let me take it out to sea and drown it so that this sword at least can never threaten you or your descendants.”

“Yes—yes,” he had muttered, thankful that Yabu had made the suggestion. “Do it now!” And only when the sword had sunk out of sight, into the very deep, witnessed by his own men, had his heart begun to pump normally. He had thanked Yabu, ordered taxes to be stabilized at sixty parts for peasants, forty for their lords, and had given him Izu as his fief. So everything was as before, except that now all power in Izu belonged to Toranaga, if he wished to take it back.

Toranaga turned over to ease the ache in his sword arm and settled again more comfortably, enjoying the nearness of the earth, gaining strength from it as always.

That blade’s gone, never to return. Good, but remember what the old Chinese soothsayer foretold, he thought that you would die by the sword. But whose sword and is it to be by my own hand or another’s?

I’ll know when I know, he told himself without fear.

Now sleep.
Karma
is
karma
. Be thou of Zen. Remember, in tranquillity, that the Absolute, the Tao, is within thee, that no priest or cult or dogma or book or saying or teaching or teacher
stands between Thou and It. Know that Good and Evil are irrelevant, I and Thou irrelevant, Inside and Outside irrelevant as are Life and Death. Enter into the Sphere where there is no fear of death nor hope of afterlife, where thou art free of the impediments of life or the needs of salvation. Thou art thyself the Tao. Be thou,
now
, a rock against which the waves of life rush in vain….

The faint shout brought Toranaga out of his meditation and he leaped to his feet. Naga was excitedly pointing westward. All eyes followed his point.

The carrier pigeon was flying in a direct line for Anjiro from the west. She fluttered into a distant tree to rest for a moment, then took off once more as rain began to fall.

Far to the west, in her wake, was Osaka.

The handler at the pigeon coop held the bird gently but firmly as Toranaga stripped off his sodden clothes. He had galloped back through the downpour. Naga and other samurai anxiously crowded the small doorway, careless of the warm rain which still fell in torrents, drumming on the tiled roof.

Carefully Toranaga dried his hands. The man offered the pigeon. Two tiny, beaten-silver cylinders were attached to each of her legs. One would have been usual. Toranaga had to work hard to keep the nervous tremble out of his fingers. He untied the cylinders and took them over to the light of the window opening to examine the minute seals. He recognized Kiri’s secret cipher. Naga and the others were watching tensely. His face revealed nothing.

Toranaga did not break the seals at once, much as he wanted to. Patiently he waited until a dry kimono was brought. A servant held a large oiled-paper umbrella for him and he walked to his own quarters in the fortress. Soup and cha were waiting. He sipped them and listened to the rain. When he felt calm, he posted guards and went into an inner room. In privacy he broke the seals. The paper of the four scrolls was very thin, the characters tiny, the message long and
in code. Decoding was laborious. When it was completed, he read the message and then reread it twice. Then he let his mind range.

Night came. The rain stopped. Oh, Buddha, let the harvest be good, he prayed. This was the season when the paddy fields were being flooded and, throughout the land, the pale green rice seedlings were being planted into the weedless, almost liquid fields to be harvested in four or five months, depending on the weather. And, throughout the land, the poor and the rich,
eta
and emperor, servant and samurai, all prayed that just the right amount of rain and sun and humidity came correctly in its season. And every man, woman, and child counted the days to harvest.

We’ll need a great harvest this year, thought Toranaga.

“Naga! Naga-san!”

His son came running. “Yes, Father?”

“At the first hour after dawn fetch Yabu-san and his chief advisers to the plateau. Also Buntaro and our three senior captains. And Mariko-san. Bring them all to the plateau at dawn. Mariko-san can serve cha. Yes. And I want the Anjin-san standing by at the camp. Guards to ring us at two hundred paces.”

“Yes, Father.” Naga turned to obey. Unable to contain himself he blurted out, “Is it war? Is it?”

Because Toranaga needed a harbinger of optimism throughout the fortress, he did not berate his son for the ill-disciplined impertinence.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes—but on my terms.”

Naga closed the shoji and rushed off. Toranaga knew that, although Naga’s face and manner would now be outwardly composed, nothing would disguise the excitement in his walk or the fire behind his eyes. So rumor and counterrumor would rush through Anjiro to spread quickly throughout Izu and beyond, if the fires were fed properly.

“I’m committed now,” he said aloud to the flowers that stood serenely in the
takonama
, shadows flickering in the pleasant candlelight.

Kiri had written: “Sire, I pray Buddha you are well and safe. This is our last carrier pigeon so I also pray Buddha guides her to you—traitors killed all the others last night by firing the coop and this one escaped only because she’s been sick and I was nursing her privately.

“Yesterday morning Lord Sugiyama suddenly resigned, exactly as planned. But before he could make good his escape, he was trapped on the outskirts of Osaka by Ishido’s
ronin
. Unhappily some of Sugiyama’s family were also caught with him—I heard he was betrayed by one of his people. Rumor has it that Ishido offered him a compromise: that if Lord Sugiyama delayed his resignation until after
the Council of Regents convened (tomorrow), so that you could be legally impeached, in return Ishido guaranteed that the Council would formally give Sugiyama the whole of the Kwanto and, as a measure of good faith, Ishido would release him and his family at once. Sugiyama refused to betray you. Immediately Ishido ordered
eta
to convince him. They tortured Sugiyama’s children, then his consort, in front of him, but he still would hot abandon you. They were all given bad deaths. His, the final one, was very bad.

“Of course, there were no witnesses to this treachery and it’s all hearsay but I believe it. Of course Ishido disclaimed any knowledge of the murders or participation in them, vowing that he’ll hunt down the ‘murderers.’ At first Ishido claimed that Sugiyama had never actually resigned, therefore, in his opinion, the Council could still meet. I sent copies of Sugiyama’s resignation to the other Regents, Kiyama, Ito, and Onoshi, and sent another openly to Ishido and circulated four more copies among the
daimyos
. (How clever of you, Tora-chan, to have known that extra copies would be necessary.) So, from yesterday, exactly as you planned with Sugiyama, the Council is legally no more—in this you’ve succeeded completely.

“Good news: Lord Mogami safely turned back outside the city with all his family and samurai. Now he’s openly your ally, so your far-northern flank is secure. The Lords Maeda, Kukushima, Asano, Ikeda, and Okudiara all quietly slipped out of Osaka last night to safety—also the Christian Lord Oda.

“Bad news is that the families of Maeda, Ikeda, and Oda and a dozen other important
daimyos
did not escape and are now hostage here, as are those of fifty or sixty lesser uncommitted lords.

“Bad news is that yesterday your half brother, Zataki, Lord of Shinano, publicly declared for the Heir, Yaemon, against you, accusing you of plotting with Sugiyama to overthrow the Council of Regents by creating chaos, so now your northeastern border is breached and Zataki and his fifty thousand fanatics will oppose you.

“Bad news is that almost every
daimyo
accepted the Emperor’s ‘invitation.’

“Bad news is that not a few of your friends and allies here are incensed that you did not give them prior knowledge of your strategy so they could prepare a line of retreat. Your old friend, the great Lord Shimazu, is one. I heard this afternoon that he’s openly demanded that all lords should be ordered by the Emperor to kneel before the boy, Yaemon, now.

“Bad news is that that Lady Ochiba is brilliantly spinning her web, promising fiefs and tides and court rank to the uncommitted. Tora-chan, it’s a great pity she’s not on your side, she’s a worthy enemy. The Lady Yodoko alone advocates prayer and calm but no one listens, and the Lady Ochiba wants to precipitate war now while she feels you’re weak and isolated. So sorry, my Lord, but you’re isolated and, I think, betrayed.

“Worst of all is that now the Christian Regents, Kiyama and Onoshi, are openly together and violently opposed to you. They issued a joint statement this morning deploring Sugiyama’s ‘defection,’ saying that his action has put the realm into confusion, that ‘we must all be strong for the sake of the Empire. The Regents have supreme responsibility. We must be ready to stamp out, together, any lord or group of lords who wish to overthrow the Taikō’s will, or the legal succession.’ (Does this mean they plan to meet as a Council of four Regents?) One of our Christian spies in the Black Robes’ headquarters here whispered that the priest Tsukku-san secretly left Osaka five days ago, but we don’t know if he went to Yedo or to Nagasaki, where the Black Ship is expected. Did you know it will be very early this season? Perhaps within twenty or thirty days?

“Sire: I’ve always hesitated about giving quick opinions based on hearsay, rumors, spies, or a woman’s intuition (there, you see, Tora-chan, I have learned from you!) but time is short and I may not be able to speak to you again: First, too many families are trapped here. Ishido will never let them go (as he will never let us go). These hostages are an immense danger to you. Few lords have Sugiyama’s sense of duty or fortitude. Very many, I think, will now go with Ishido, however reluctantly, because of these hostages. Next, I think that Maeda will betray you, also probably Asano. I tally of all two hundred and sixty-four
daimyos
in our land, only twenty-four who are certain to follow you, another fifty possibly. That’s not nearly enough. Kiyama and Onoshi will sway all or most of the Christian
daimyos
and I believe they will not join you now. Lord Mori, the richest and greatest of all, is against you personally, as always, and he’ll pull Asano, Kobayakawa, and perhaps Oda into his net. With your half brother Lord Zataki against you, your position is terribly precarious. I counsel you to declare Crimson Sky at once and rush for Kyoto. It’s your only hope.

“As to the Lady Sazuko and myself, we’re well and content. The child quickens nicely and if it’s the child’s
karma
to be born, thus
will it happen. We’re safe in our corner of the castle, the door tightly locked, the portcullis down. Our samurai are filled with devotion to you and to your cause and if it is our
karma to
depart this life then we will depart serenely. Your Lady misses you greatly, very greatly. For myself, Tora-chan, I long to see you, to laugh with you, and to see your smile. My only regret in death would be that I could no longer do these things, and watch over you. If there is an afterlife and God or Buddha or
kami
exist, I promise I will somehow bend them all to your side … though first I may beseech them to make me slender and young and fruitful for you, yet leave me my enjoyment of food. Ah, that would indeed be heaven, to be able to eat and eat and yet be perpetually young and thin!

“I send you my laughter. May Buddha bless thee and thine.”

Toranaga read them the message, except the private part about Kiri and the Lady Sazuko. When he had finished they looked at him and each other incredulously, not only because of what the message said but also because he was so openly taking them all into his confidence.

They were seated on mats set in a semicircle around him in the center of the plateau, without guards, safe from eavesdroppers. Buntaro, Yabu, Igurashi, Omi, Naga, the captains, and Mariko. Guards were posted two hundred paces away.

“I want some advice,” Toranaga said. “My counselors are in Yedo. This matter is urgent and I want all of you to act in their place. What’s going to happen and what I should do. Yabu-san?”

Yabu was in turmoil. Every path seemed to lead to disaster. “First, Sire, just exactly what is ‘Crimson Sky’?”

“It’s the code name for my final battle plan, a single violent rush at Kyoto with all my legions, relying on mobility and surprise, to take possession of the capital from the evil forces that now surround it, to wrest the person of the Emperor from the filthy grasp of those who’ve duped him, led by Ishido. Once the Son of Heaven’s safely released from their clutches, then to petition him to revoke the mandate granted the present Council, who are clearly traitorous, or dominated by traitors, and grant me his mandate to form a new Council which would put the interests of the realm and the Heir before personal ambition. I would lead eighty to one hundred thousand men, leaving my lands unprotected, my flanks unguarded, and a retreat unsecured.” Toranaga saw them staring at him flabbergasted. He did not mention the cadres of elite samurai who had been so furtively planted in many
of the important castles and provinces over the years, and who were to explode simultaneously into revolt to create the chaos essential to the plan.