Shogun (93 page)

Yabu burst out, “But you’d have to fight every pace of the way. Ikawa Jikkyu strangles the Tokaidō for a hundred ri. Then more Ishido strongholds straddle the rest!”

“Yes. But I plan to rush northwest along the Koshu-kaidō, then stab down on Kyoto and stay away from the coast lands.”

At once many shook their heads and began to speak but Yabu overrode them. “But, Sire, the message said your kinsman Zataki-san’s already gone over to the enemy! Now your road north is blocked too. His province is athwart the Koshu-kaidō. You’ll have to fight through all Shinano—that’s mountainous and very hard, and his men are fanatically loyal. You’ll be carved to pieces in those mountains.”

“That’s the only way, the only way I have a chance. I agree there are too many hostiles on the coastal road.”

Yabu glanced at Omi, wishing he could consult with him, loathing the message and the whole Osaka mess, hating being first to speak, and utterly detesting the vassal status he had accepted at Omi’s pleading.

“It’s your only chance, Yabu-sama,” Omi had urged. “The only way you’ll avoid Toranaga’s trap and leave yourself room to maneuver—”

Igurashi had interrupted furiously. “Better to fall on Toranaga today while he’s got few men here! Better to kill him and take his head to Ishido while there’s time.”

“Better to wait, better to be patient—”

“What happens if Toranaga orders our Master to give up Izu?” Igurashi had shouted. “As liege lord to vassal, Toranaga has that right!”

“He’ll never do it. He needs our Master more than ever now. Izu guards his southern door. He can’t have Izu hostile! He must have our Master on his—”

“
What if he orders Lord Yabu out?”

“We rebel! We kill Toranaga if he’s here or fight any army he sends against us. But he’ll never do that, don’t you see? As his vassal, Toranaga must protect—”

Yabu had let them argue and then at length he had seen Omi’s wisdom. “Very well. I agree! And offering him my Murasama sword to fix the bargain’s genius, Omi-san,” he had gloated, taken whole
heartedly by the cunning of the plan. “Yes. Genius. His Yoshitomo blade more than takes its place. And of course, I’m more valuable to Toranaga now than ever before. Omi’s right, Igurashi. I’ve no choice. I’m committed to Toranaga from now on. A vassal!”

“Until war comes,” Omi had said deliberately.

“Of course. Of course only until war comes! Then I can change sides—or do a dozen things. You’re right, Omi-san, again!”

Omi’s the best counselor I’ve ever had, he told himself. But the most dangerous. Omi’s clever enough to take Izu if I die. But what does that matter. We’re all dead.

“You’re blocked completely,” he told Toranaga. “You’re isolated.”

“Is there any alternative?” Toranaga asked.

“Excuse me, Sire,” Omi said, “but how long would it take to ready this attack?”

“It’s ready now.”

“Izu’s ready too, Sire,” Yabu said. “Your hundred and my sixteen thousand and the Musket Regiment—is that enough?”

“No. Crimson Sky’s a desperation plan—everything risked on one attack.”

“You have to risk it, as soon as the rains cease and we can war,” Yabu insisted. “What choice have you got? Ishido will form a new Council at once, they still have the mandate. So you’ll be impeached, today or tomorrow or the next day. Why wait to be eaten up? Listen, maybe the Regiment could blast a way through the mountains! Let it be Crimson Sky! All men thrown into one great attack. It’s the Way of the Warrior—it’s worthy of samurai, Toranaga-sama. The guns, our guns, will blow Zataki out of our way and if you succeed or fail, what does it matter? The try will live forever!”

Naga said, “Yes. But we’ll win—we will!” A few of the captains nodded their agreement, relieved that war had come. Omi said nothing.

Toranaga was looking at Buntaro. “Well?”

“Lord, I beg you to excuse me from giving an opinion. I and my men do whatever you decide. That’s my only duty. My opinion is no value to you because I do what you alone decide.”

“Normally I’d accept that but not today!”

“War then. What Yabu-san says is right. Let’s go to Kyoto. Today, tomorrow, or when the rains stop. Crimson Sky! I’m tired of waiting.”

“Omi-san?” Toranaga asked.

“Yabu-sama is correct, Sire. Ishido will bend the Taikō’s will to
appoint a new Council very soon. The new Council will have the Emperor’s mandate. Your enemies will applaud and most of your friends will hesitate and so betray you. The new Council will impeach you at once. Then—”

“Then it’s Crimson Sky?” Yabu interrupted.

“If Lord Toranaga orders it, then it is. But I don’t think the impeachment order has any value at all. You can forget it!”

“Why?” Toranaga asked, as all attention went to Omi.

“I agree with you, Sire. Ishido’s evil,
neh?
Any
daimyos
who agree to serve him are equally evil. True men know Ishido for what he is, and also know that the Emperor’s been duped again.” Omi was prudently treading through the quicksands that he knew could swallow him. “I think he made a lasting mistake murdering Lord Sugiyama. Because of those foul murders, I think now all
daimyos
will suspect treachery from Ishido, and very few outside of Ishido’s immediate grasp will bow to the orders of his ‘Council.’ You’re safe. For a time.”

“For how much time?”

“The rains are with us for two months, about. When the rains cease Ishido will plan to send Ikawa Jikkyu and Lord Zataki against you simultaneously, to catch you in a pincer, and Ishido’s main army will support them over the Tokaidō Road. Meanwhile, until the rains stop, every
daimyo
who bears a grudge against any other
daimyo
will only pay Ishido lip service until he makes the first move, then I think they’ll forget him and they’ll all take revenge or grab territory at their whim. The Empire will be torn as it was before the Taikō. But you, Sire, between Yabu-sama and yourself, jointly, with luck you have enough strength to hold the passes to the Kwanto and to Izu against the first wave and beat it off. I don’t think Ishido could mount another attack—not a great one. When Ishido and the others have expended their energies, together you and Lord Yabu can cautiously come from behind our mountains and gradually take the Empire into your own hands.”

“When will that be?”

“In the time of your children, Sire.”

“You say fight a defensive battle?” Yabu asked scornfully.

“I think jointly you’re both safe behind the mountains. You wait, Toranaga-sama. You wait until you have more allies. You hold the passes. This can be done! General Ishido’s evil, but not stupid enough to commit all his force to one battle. He’ll stay skulking inside Osaka.
So for the time being, we mustn’t use our regiment. We must tighten security and keep them as a secret weapon, poised and ever ready, until you come from behind your mountains—but now I don’t think I will ever see them used.” Omi was conscious of the eyes watching him. He bowed to Toranaga. “Please excuse me for talking at length, Sire.”

Toranaga studied him, then glanced at his son. He saw the youth’s pent-up excitement and knew it was time to cast him at his prey. “Naga-san?”

“What Omi-san said is true,” Naga told him at once, exultantly. “Most of it. But I say use the two months to gather allies, to isolate Ishido even more, and when the rains cease, attack without warning—Crimson Sky.”

Toranaga asked, “You disagree with Omi-san’s opinion about a lengthy war?”

“No. But isn’t this—” Naga stopped.

“Go on, Naga-san. Speak openly!”

Naga held his tongue, his face white.

“You’re ordered to continue!”

“Well, Sire, it occurred to me that—” Again he stopped, then said in a gush, “Isn’t this your great opportunity to become Shōgun? If you succeed in taking Kyoto and get the mandate, why form a Council? Why not petition the Emperor to make you Shōgun? It would be best for you and best for the realm.” Naga tried to keep the fear out of his voice for he was speaking treason against Yaemon and most samurai here—Yabu, Omi, Igurashi, and Buntaro particularly—were open loyalists. “I say you should be Shōgun!” He turned defensively on the others. “If this opportunity is let go…. Omi-san, you’re right about a long war, but I say Lord Toranaga must take power, to give power! A long war will ruin the Empire, split it into a thousand fragments again! Who wants that? Lord Toranaga must be Shōgun. To gift the Empire on to Yaemon, to Lord Yaemon, the realm must be secured first! There’ll never be another opportunity….” His words trailed off. He squared his back, frightened because he had said it, glad that he had said publicly what he had been thinking forever.

Toranaga sighed. “I have never sought to become Shōgun. How many times do I have to say it? I support my nephew Yaemon and the Taikō’s will.” He looked at them all, one by one. Lastly at Naga. The youth winced. But Toranaga said kindly, calling him back to the
lure, “Your zeal and youth alone excuse you. Unfortunately, many much older and wiser than you think that’s my ambition. It isn’t. There’s only one way to settle that nonsense and that’s put Lord Yaemon into power. And that I intend to do.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you. Thank you,” Naga replied in despair.

Toranaga shifted his eyes to Igurashi. “What’s your counsel?”

The one-eyed samurai scratched. “Me, I’m only a soldier, not a counselor, but I wouldn’t advise Crimson Sky, not if we can war on our terms like Omi-san says. I fought in Shinano years ago. That’s bad country, and then Lord Zataki was with us. I wouldn’t want to war in Shinano again and never if Zataki was hostile. And if Lord Maeda’s suspect, well, how can you plan a battle if your biggest ally may betray you? Lord Ishido’ll put two, three hundred thousand men against you and still keep a hundred holding Osaka. Even with the guns we’ve not enough men to attack. But behind the mountains using the guns, you could hold out forever if it happens like Omi-san says. We could hold the passes. You’ve enough rice—doesn’t the Kwanto supply half the Empire? Well, a third at least—and we could send you all the fish you need. You’d be safe. Let Lord Ishido and devil Jikkyu come at us if it’s to happen like Omi-san said, that soon the enemy’ll be feeding on each other. If not, keep Crimson Sky ready. A man can die for his lord only once in this life.”

“Has anyone anything to add?” Toranaga asked. No one answered him. “Mariko-san?”

“It’s not my place to speak here, Sire,” she replied. “I’m sure everything has been said that should have been said. But may I be allowed to ask for all your counselors here, what do
you
think will happen?”

Toranaga chose his words deliberately. “I believe that what Omi-san forecast will happen. With one exception: the Council won’t be impotent. The Council will wield enough influence to gather an invincible allied force. When the rains cease it will be thrown against the Kwanto, bypassing Izu. The Kwanto will be gobbled up, then Izu. Only after I’m dead will the
daimyos
fight among themselves.”

“But why, Sire?” Omi ventured.

“Because I’ve too many enemies, I own the Kwanto, I’ve warred for more than forty years and never lost a battle. They’re all afraid of me. I
know
that first the vultures will pack together to destroy me.
Later they’ll destroy themselves, but first they’ll join to destroy me if they can. Know very clearly, all of you, I’m the only real threat to Yaemon, even though I’m no threat at all. That’s the irony of it. They all believe I want to be Shōgun. I don’t. This is another war that’s not necessary at all!”

Naga broke the silence. “Then what are you going to do, Sire?”

“Eh?”

“What are you going to do?”

“Obviously, Crimson Sky,” Toranaga said.

“But you said they’d eat us up?”

“They would—
if I
gave them any time. But I’m not going to give them any time. We go to war at once!”

“But the rains—what about the rains?”

“We will arrive in Kyoto wet. Hot and stinking and wet. Surprise, mobility, audacity, and timing win wars,
neh?
Yabu-san was right. The guns will blast a way through the mountains.”

For an hour they discussed plans and the feasibility of large-scale war in the rainy season—an unheard-of strategy. Then Toranaga sent them away, except Mariko, telling Naga to order the Anjin-san here. He watched them walk off. They had all been outwardly enthusiastic once the decision had been announced, Naga and Buntaro particularly. Only Omi had been reserved and thoughtful and unconvinced. Toranaga discounted Igurashi for he knew that, rightly, the soldier would do only what Yabu ordered, and he dismissed Yabu as a pawn, treacherous certainly, but still a pawn. Omi’s the only one worthwhile, he thought. I wonder if he’s worked out yet what I’m really going to do?

“Mariko-san. Find out, tactfully, how much the courtesan’s contract would cost.”

She blinked. “Kiku-san, Sire?”

“Yes.”

“Now, Sire? At once?”

“Tonight would do excellently.” He looked at her blandly. “Her contract’s not necessarily for me, perhaps for one of my officers.”

“I would imagine the price would depend on whom, Sire.”

“I imagine it will. But set a price. The girl of course has the right of refusal, if she wishes, when the samurai’s named, but tell her mama-san owner that I don’t expect the girl will have the bad manners to mistrust my choice for her. Tell the owner also that Kiku is a Lady
of the First Class of Mishima and not Yedo or Osaka or Kyoto,” Toranaga added genially, “so I expect to pay Mishima prices and not Yedo or Osaka or Kyoto prices.”

“Yes, Sire, of course.”

Toranaga moved his shoulder to ease the ache, shifting his swords.

“May I massage it for you, Sire? Or send for Suwo?”

“No, thank you. I’ll see Suwo later.” Toranaga got up and relieved himself with great pleasure, then sat down again. He wore a short, light silk kimono, blue patterned, and the simple straw sandals. His fan was blue and decorated with his crest.

The sun was low, rain clouds building heavily.

“It’s vast to be alive,” he said happily. “I can almost hear the rain waiting to be born.”

“Yes,” she said.

Toranaga thought a moment. Then he said as a poem: