Shogun_ A Novel of Japan Part 150

Toranaga still looked at the girl, warmed by her. "Patience means restraining yourself. There are seven emotions, neh? neh? Joy, anger, anxiety, adoration, grief, fear, and hate. If a man doesn't give way to these, he's patient. I'm not as strong as I might be but I'm patient. Understand?" Joy, anger, anxiety, adoration, grief, fear, and hate. If a man doesn't give way to these, he's patient. I'm not as strong as I might be but I'm patient. Understand?"

"Yes, Sire. Very clearly."

"Patience is very necessary in a leader."

"Yes."

"That lady, for example. She's a distraction to me, too beautiful, too perfect for me. I'm too simple for such a rare creature. So I've decided she belongs elsewhere."

"But, Sire, even as one of your lesser ladies ..." Omi mouthed the politeness that both men knew a sham, though obligatory, and all the time Omi was praying as he had never prayed before, knowing what was possible, knowing that he could never ask.

"I quite agree," Toranaga said. "But great talent merits sacrifice." He was still watching her throwing her fan, catching her maid's fan in return, her gaiety infectious. Then both the ladies were obscured by the horses. So sorry, Kiku-san, he thought, but I have to pa.s.s you on, to settle you out of reach quickly. The truth is, I really am getting too fond of you, though Gyoko would never believe I had told her the truth, nor will Omi, nor even you yourself. "Kiku-san is worthy of a house of her own. With a husband of her own."

"Better a consort of the lowest samurai than wife of a farmer or merchant, however rich."

"I don't agree."

For Omi those words ended the matter. Karma Karma, he told himself, his misery overwhelming him. Put your sadness away fool. Your liege lord has decided, so that is the end of it. Midori is a perfect wife. Your mother is to become a nun, so now your house will have harmony.

So much sadness today. And happiness: daimyo daimyo of Izu-to-be; Commander of the Regiment; the Anjin-san's to be kept in Anjiro, therefore the first s.h.i.+p is to be built within Izu- of Izu-to-be; Commander of the Regiment; the Anjin-san's to be kept in Anjiro, therefore the first s.h.i.+p is to be built within Izu-in my fief. Put aside your sadness. Life is all sadness. Kiku-san has her karma karma, I have mine, Toranaga has his, and my Lord Yabu shows how foolish it is to worry about this or that or anything.

Omi looked up at Toranaga, his mind clear and everything compartmentalized. "Please excuse me, Sire, I beg your forgiveness. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You may greet her if you wish, before you leave."

"Thank you, Sire." Omi wrapped up Yabu's head. "Do you wish me to bury it-or display it?"

"Put it on a spear, facing the wreck."

"What was his death poem?"

Omi said: '"What are clouds But an excuse for the sky?

What is life But an escape from death?'"

Toranaga smiled. "Interesting," he said.

Omi bowed and gave the wrapped head to one of his men and went through the horses and samurai to the far courtyard.

"Ah, Lady," he said to her with kind formality. "I'm so pleased to see you well and happy."

"I'm with my Lord, Omi-san, and he's strong and content. How can I be anything but happy."

"Sayonara, Lady."

"Sayonara, Omi-sama." She bowed, aware of a vast finality now, never quite realizing it before. A tear welled and she brushed it aside and bowed again as he walked away.

She watched his tall, firm stride and would have wept aloud, her heart near breaking, but then, as always, she heard the so-many-times-said words in her memory, kindly spoken, wisely spoken, 'Why do you weep, child? We of the Floating World live only for the moment, giving all our time to the pleasures of cherry blossoms and snow and maple leaves, the calling of a cricket, the beauty of the moon, waning and growing and being reborn, singing our songs and drinking cha and sake, knowing perfumes and the touch of silks, caressing for pleasure, and drifting, always drifting. Listen, child: never sad, always drifting as a lily on the current in the stream of life. How lucky you are, Kiku-chan, you're a Princess of Ukiyo Ukiyo, the Floating World, drift, live for the moment....'

Kiku brushed away a second tear, a last tear. Silly girl to weep. Weep no more! she ordered herself. You're so incredibly lucky! You're consort to the greatest daimyo daimyo himself, even though a very lesser, unofficial one, but what does that matter- himself, even though a very lesser, unofficial one, but what does that matter-your sons will be born samurai. Isn't this the most incredible gift in the world? Didn't the soothsayer predict such an incredible good fortune, never to be believed? But now it's true, neh? neh? If you must weep there are more important things to weep about. About the growing seed in your loins that the weird-tasting cha took out of you. But why weep about that? It was only an "it" and not a child and who was the father? Truly? If you must weep there are more important things to weep about. About the growing seed in your loins that the weird-tasting cha took out of you. But why weep about that? It was only an "it" and not a child and who was the father? Truly?

"I don't know, not for certain, Gyoko-san, so sorry, but I think it's my Lord's," she had said finally, wanting his child so much to bind the promise of samurai.

"But say the child's born with blue eyes and a fair skin? It may, neh? neh? Count the days." Count the days."

"I've counted and counted, oh, how I've counted!"

"Then be honest with yourself. So sorry, but both of our futures depend on you now. You've many a birthing year ahead of you. You're just eighteen, child, neh? neh? Better to be sure, Better to be sure, neh?" neh?"

Yes, she thought again, how wise you are, Gyoko-san, and how silly I was, bewitched. It was only an "it" and how sensible we j.a.panese are to know that a child is not a proper child until thirty days after birth when its spirit is firmly fixed in its body and its karma karma inexorable. Oh, how lucky I am, and I want a son and another and another and never a girl child. Poor girl children! Oh G.o.ds, bless the soothsayer and thank you thank you thank you for my inexorable. Oh, how lucky I am, and I want a son and another and another and never a girl child. Poor girl children! Oh G.o.ds, bless the soothsayer and thank you thank you thank you for my karma karma that I am favored by the great that I am favored by the great daimyo daimyo, that my sons will be samurai and oh, please make me worthy of such marvelousness....

"What is it, Mistress?" little Suisen asked, awed by the joy that seemed to pour out of Kiku.

Kiku sighed contentedly. "I was thinking about the soothsayer and my Lord and my karma karma, just drifting, drifting...."

She went farther out into the courtyard, shading herself with her scarlet umbrella, to seek Toranaga. He was almost hidden by the horses and samurai and falcons in the courtyard, but she could see he was still on the veranda, sipping cha now, Fujiko bowing before him again. Soon it'll be my turn, she thought. Perhaps tonight we can begin a new "it." Oh, please.... Then, greatly happy, she turned back to her game.

Outside the gateway Omi was mounting his horse and he galloped off with his guards, faster and ever faster, the speed refres.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.sion, and everything that he had adored, at her feet. He was sure he would never know pa.s.sion 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 daimyo of Izu, and I've a world to conquer. 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 ri in every direction from the village, with a yearly income of four thousand koku. You'll take over Omi-san's house." 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 s.h.i.+p, Fujiko-san, to replace the one lost, and Anjiro will be a perfect s.h.i.+pyard, 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?" 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?" 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? 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." 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?"

Fujiko hesitated a long while. "The perfect thing for the Anjin-san would be Midori-san for wife, Kiku-san as consort."

"Could they learn to live with all his-er-different att.i.tudes?" att.i.tudes?"

"Midori-san's samurai, Sire. It would be her duty. You would order her. Kiku-san also."

"But not the Anjin-san?"

"You know him better than I, Sire. But in pillow things and ... it would be better for him to, well, think of it himself."

"Toda Mariko-sama would have made a perfect wife for him. Neh?" Neh?"

"That's an extraordinary idea, Sire," Fujiko replied, without blinking. "Certainly both had an enormous respect for each other."

"Yes," he said dryly. "Well, thank you, Fujiko-san. I'll consider what you said. He'll be at Anjiro in about ten days."

"Thank you, Sire. If I might suggest, the port of Ito and the Yokose Spa should be included within the Anjin-san's fief."

"Why?"

"Ito just in case Anjiro is not big enough. Perhaps bigger slipways would be necessary for such a big s.h.i.+p. Perhaps they're available there. Yokose be-"

"Are they?"

"Yes, Sire. An-"

"Have you been there?"

"No, Sire. But the Anjin-san's interested in the sea. So are you. It was my duty to try to learn about s.h.i.+ps and s.h.i.+pping, and when we heard the Anjin-san's s.h.i.+p was burned I wondered if it would be possible to build another, and if so, where and how. Izu is a perfect choice, Sire. It will be easy to keep Is.h.i.+do's armies out."

"And why Yokose?"

"And Yokose because a hatamoto should have a place in the mountains where you could be entertained in the style you have a right to expect."

Toranaga was watching her closely. Fujiko appeared so docile and demure but he knew she was as inflexible as he was and not ready to concede either point unless he ordered it. "I agree. And I'll consider what you said about Midori-san and Kiku-san."

"Thank you, Sire," she said humbly, glad that she had done her duty to her master and repaid her debt to Mariko. Ito for its slipways, and Yokose where Mariko had said their "love" had really begun.

'I'm so lucky, Fujiko-chan,' Mariko had told her at Yedo. 'Our journey here has brought me more joy than I have the right to expect in twenty lifetimes.'

'I beg you to protect him in Osaka, Mariko-san. So sorry, he's not like us, not civilized like us, poor man. His nirvana is life and not death.'

That's still true, Fujiko thought again, blessing Mariko's memory. Mariko had saved the Anjin-san, no one else-not the Christian G.o.d or any G.o.ds, not the Anjin-san himself, not even Toranaga, no one-only Mariko alone. Toda Mariko-noh-Akechi Jinsai had saved him.

Before I die I will put up a shrine at Yokose and leave a bequest for another at Osaka and another at Yedo. That's going to be one of my death wishes, Toranaga-sama, she promised herself, looking back at him so patiently, warmed by all the other lovely things yet to be done on the Anjin-san's behalf. Midori to wife certainly, never never Kiku as wife but Kiku as wife but only only a consort and not necessarily chief consort, and the fief extended to s.h.i.+moda on the very south coast of Izu. "Do you want me to leave at once, Sire?" a consort and not necessarily chief consort, and the fief extended to s.h.i.+moda on the very south coast of Izu. "Do you want me to leave at once, Sire?"

"Stay here tonight, then go direct tomorrow. Not via Yokohama."

"Yes. I understand. So sorry, I can take possession of my Master's new fief on his behalf-and all it contains-the moment I arrive?"

"Kawanabi-san will give you the necessary doc.u.ments before you leave here. Now, please send Kiku-san to me."

Fujiko bowed and left.

Toranaga grunted. Pity that woman's going to end herself. She's almost too valuable to lose, and much too smart. Ito and Yokose? Ito understandable. Why Yokose? And what else was in her mind?

He saw Kiku coming across the sun-baked courtyard, her little feet in white tabi, almost dancing, so sweet and elegant with her silks and crimson sunshade, the envy of every man in sight. Ah, Kiku, he thought, I can't afford that envy, so sorry. I can't afford you in this life, so sorry. You should have remained where you were in the Floating World, courtesan of the First Cla.s.s. Or even better, gei-sha gei-sha. What a fine idea that old hag came up with! Then you'd be safe, the property of many, the adored of many, the central point of tragic suicides and violent quarrels and wonderful a.s.signations, fawned on and feared, showered with money that you'd treat with disdain, a legend-while your beauty lasts. But now? Now I can't keep you, so sorry. Any samurai I give you to as consort takes to his bed a double-edged knife: a complete distraction and the envy of every other man. Neh? Neh? Few would agree to marry you, so sorry, but that's the truth and this is a day for truths. Fujiko was right. You're not trained to run a samurai household, so sorry. As soon as your beauty goes-oh, your voice will last, child, and your wit, but soon you'll still be cast out on to the dung heap of the world. So sorry, but that's also the truth. Another is that the highest Ladies of the Floating World are best left in their Floating World to run other houses when age is upon them, even the most famous, to weep over lost lovers and lost youth in barrels of sake, watered with your tears. The lesser ones at best to be wife to a farmer or fisherman or merchant, or rice seller or craftsman, from which life you were born-the rare, sudden flower that appears in the wilderness for no reason other than Few would agree to marry you, so sorry, but that's the truth and this is a day for truths. Fujiko was right. You're not trained to run a samurai household, so sorry. As soon as your beauty goes-oh, your voice will last, child, and your wit, but soon you'll still be cast out on to the dung heap of the world. So sorry, but that's also the truth. Another is that the highest Ladies of the Floating World are best left in their Floating World to run other houses when age is upon them, even the most famous, to weep over lost lovers and lost youth in barrels of sake, watered with your tears. The lesser ones at best to be wife to a farmer or fisherman or merchant, or rice seller or craftsman, from which life you were born-the rare, sudden flower that appears in the wilderness for no reason other than karma karma, to blossom quickly and to vanish quickly.

So sad, so very sad. How do I give you samurai children?

You keep her for the rest of your time, his secret heart told him. She merits it. Don't fool yourself like you fool others. The truth is you could keep her easily, taking her a little, leaving her a lot, just like your favorite Tetsu-ko, or Kogo. Isn't Kiku just a falcon to you? Prized yes, unique yes, but just a falcon that you feed from your fist, to fly at a prey and call back with a lure, to cast adrift after a season or two, to vanish forever? Don't lie to yourself, that's fatal. Why not keep her? She's only just another falcon, though very special, very high-flying, very beautiful to watch, but nothing more, rare certainly, unique certainly, and, oh, so pillowable....

"Why do you laugh? Why are you so happy, Sire?"

"Because you are a joy to see, Lady."

Blackthorne leaned his weight on one of the three hawsers that were attached to the keel plate of the wreck. "Hipparuuuu!" he called out. Puuuulll! he called out. Puuuulll!

There were a hundred samurai naked to their loincloths hauling l.u.s.tily on each rope. It was afternoon now and low tide, and Blackthorne hoped to be able to s.h.i.+ft the wreck and drag her ash.o.r.e to salvage everything. He had adapted his first plan when he had found to his glee that all the cannon had been fished out of the sea the day after the holocaust and were almost as perfect as the day they had left their foundry near Chatham in his home county of Kent. As well, almost a thousand cannonb.a.l.l.s, some grape and chain and many metal things had been recovered. Most were twisted and scored but he had the makings of a s.h.i.+p, better than he had dreamed possible.

"Marvelous, Naga-san! Marvelous!" he had congratulated him when he had discovered the true extent of the salvage.

"Oh, thank you, Anjin-san. Try hard, so sorry."

"Never mind so sorry. All good now!"

Yes, he had rejoiced. Now The Lady The Lady can be just a mite longer and a mite more abeam, but she'll still have her greyhound look and she'll be a p.i.s.s-cutter to end all p.i.s.s-cutters. can be just a mite longer and a mite more abeam, but she'll still have her greyhound look and she'll be a p.i.s.s-cutter to end all p.i.s.s-cutters.

Ah, Rodrigues, he had thought without rancor, I'm glad you're safe and away this year and there'll be another man to sink next year. If Ferriera's Captain-General again, that would be a gift from heaven, but I won't count on it and I'm glad you're safe away. I owe you my life and you were a great pilot.

"Hipparuuuuuuu!" he shouted again and hawsers jerked, the sea dripping off them like sweat, but the wreck did not budge. he shouted again and hawsers jerked, the sea dripping off them like sweat, but the wreck did not budge.

Since that dawn on the beach with Toranaga, Mariko's letter in his hands, the cannon discovered so soon afterward, there had not been enough hours in the day. He had drawn beginning plans and made and remade lists and changed plans and very carefully offered up lists of men and materials needed, not wanting any mistakes. And after the day, he worked at the dictionary long into the night to learn the new words he would need to tell the craftsmen what he wanted, to find out what they had already and could do already. Many times, in desperation, he had wanted to ask the priest to help but he knew there was no help there now that their enmity was inexorably fixed.