Authors: James Clavell
“I ask you to finish with the agreement.”
“My first duty is to you. My second duty is to my husband.”
“My thought, Fujiko-san, was that the Anjin-san would marry you. Then you would not be a consort.”
“A samurai cannot serve two lords or a wife two husbands. My duty is to my dead husband. Please excuse me, I cannot change.”
“With patience everything changes. Soon the Anjin-san will know more of our ways and his household will also have
wa
. He’s learned incredibly since he’s been—”
“Oh, please, Sire, don’t misunderstand me, the Anjin-san’s the most extraordinary man I’ve ever known, certainly the kindest. He’s given me great honor and, oh yes, I know his house will be a real house soon, but … but please excuse me, I must do my duty. My duty is to my husband, my only husband….” She fought for control. “It must be,
neh?
It must be, Sire, or then all … all the shame and the suffering and dishonor are meaningless,
neh?
His death, my child’s, his swords broken and buried in the
eta
village…. Without duty to him, isn’t all our
bushido
an immortal joke?”
“You must answer one question now, Fujiko-san: Doesn’t your duty to a request from me, your liege lord, and to an astonishingly brave man who is becoming one of us and is your master, and,” he added, believing he recognized the bloom in her face, “your duty to his unborn child, doesn’t all that take precedence over a previous duty?”
“I’m … I’m not carrying his child, Sire.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, not sure.”
“Are you late?”
“Yes … but only a little and that could be …”
Toranaga watched and waited. Patiently. There was much yet to do before he could ride away and cast Tetsu-ko or Kogo aloft and he was avid for that pleasure, but that would be for himself alone and therefore unimportant. Fujiko was important and he had promised himself that at least for today he would pretend that he had won, that he had time and could be patient and arrange matters it was his duty to arrange. “Well?”
“So sorry, Sire, no.”
“Then it’s no, Fujiko-san. Please excuse me for asking you but it was necessary.” Toranaga was neither angry nor pleased. The girl was only doing what was honorable and he had known when he had agreed to the bargain with her that there would never be a change. That’s what makes us unique on earth, he thought with satisfaction. A bargain with death is a bargain that is sanctified. He bowed to her
formally. “I commend you for your honor and sense of duty to your husband, Usagi Fujiko,” he said, mentioning the name that had ceased to be.
“Oh, thank you, Sire,” she said at the honor he did to her, her tears streaming from the complete happiness that possessed her, knowing this simple gesture cleansed the stigma from the only husband she would have in this life.
“Listen, Fujiko, twenty days before the
last day
you are to leave for Yedo—whatever happens to me. Your death may take place during the journey and must appear to be accidental.
Neh?”
“Yes, yes, Sire.”
“This will be our secret. Yours and mine only.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Until that time you will remain head of his household.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Now, please tell Gyoko to come here. I’ll send for you again before I go. I have some other things to discuss with you.”
“Yes, Sire.” Fujiko bowed deeply and said, “I bless you for releasing me from life.” She went away.
Curious, Toranaga thought, how women can change like chameleons—one moment ugly, the next attractive, sometimes even beautiful, though in reality they’re not.
“You sent for me, Sire?”
“Yes, Gyoko-san. What news have you for me?”
“All sorts of things, Sire,” Gyoko said, her well-made-up face unafraid, a glint in her eyes, but her bowels in upheaval. She knew it was no coincidence that this meeting was taking place and her instinct told her Toranaga was more dangerous than usual. “Arrangements for the Guild of Courtesans progress satisfactorily and rules and regulations are being drawn up for your approval. There is a fine area to the north of the city that would—”
“The area I’ve already chosen is nearer the coast. The Yoshiwara.”
She complimented him on his choice, groaning inwardly. The Yoshiwara—Reed Moor—was presently a bog and mosquitoed and would have to be drained and reclaimed before it could be fenced and built on. “Excellent, Sire. Next: Rules and regulations for the
gei-sha
are also being prepared for your perusal.”
“Good. Make them short and to the point. What sign are you going to put over the gateway to the Yoshiwara?”
“‘Lust will not keep—something must be done about it.’”
He laughed, and she smiled but did not relax her guard, though she added seriously, “Again may I thank you on behalf of future generations, Sire.”
“It’s not for you or them I agreed,” Toranaga told her, and quoted one of his comments in the Legacy: “Virtuous men throughout history have always decried bawdy houses and Pillow Places, but men aren’t virtuous and if a leader outlaws houses and pillowing he’s a fool because greater evils will soon erupt like a plague of boils.”
“How wise you are.”
“And as to putting all the Pillow Places in one area, that means all the unvirtuous may be watched, taxed, and serviced, all at the same time. You’re right again, Gyoko-san, ‘Lust will not keep.’ It soon gets addled. Next?”
“Kiku-san has regained her health, Sire. Perfectly.”
“Yes, I saw. How delightful she is! I’m sorry—Yedo’s certainly hot and unkind in the summer. You’re sure she’s fine now?”
“Yes, oh yes, but she has missed you, Sire. We are to accompany you to Mishima?”
“What other rumors have you heard?”
“Only that Ishido’s left Osaka Castle. The Regents have formally declared you outlaw—what impertinence, Sire.”
“Which way’s he planning to attack me?”
“I don’t know, Sire,” she said cautiously. “But I imagine a two-forked attack, along the Tokaidō with Ikawa Hikoju now that his father, Lord Jikkyu, is dead, and along the Koshu-kaidō, from Shinano, as Lord Zataki has foolishly sided with Lord Ishido against you. But behind your mountains you’re safe. Oh, yes, I’m sure you’ll live to a ripe old age. With your permission, I’m shifting all my affairs to Yedo.”
“Certainly. Meanwhile see if you can find out where the main thrust will be.”
“I’ll try, oh yes, Sire. These are terrible times, Sire, when brother will go against brother, son against father.”
Toranaga’s eyes were veiled and he made a note to increase vigilance on Noboru, his eldest son, whose final allegiance was with the Taikō. “Yes,” he agreed. “Terrible times. Times of great change. Some bad, some good. You, for example, you’re rich now and your son, for example. Isn’t he in charge of your saké factory at Odawara?”
“Yes, Sire.” Gyoko went gray under her makeup.
“He’s been making great profits,
neh?”
“He’s certainly the best manager in Odawara, Sire.”
“So I hear. I have a job for him. The Anjin-san’s going to build a new ship. I’m providing all craftsmen and materials, so I want the business side handled with
very great care.”
Gyoko almost collapsed with relief. She had presumed Toranaga was going to obliterate them all before he left for the war, or tax her out of existence, because he’d found out she’d lied to him about the Anjin-san and the Lady Toda, or about Kiku’s unfortunate miscarriage, which was not by chance as she had reported so tearfully a month ago, but by careful inducement, at her insistence with Kiku’s dutiful agreement. “
Oh ko
, Sire, when do you want my son in Yokohama? He will ensure it’s the cheapest ship ever built.”
“I don’t want it cheap. I want it the very best—for the most reasonable price. He’s to be overseer and responsible under the Anjin-san.”
“Sire, you have my guarantee, my future, my future hopes that it will be as you wish.”
“If the ship is built perfectly, exactly as the Anjin-san wants, within six months from the first day, then I will make your son samurai.”
She bowed low and for a moment was unable to talk. “Please excuse a poor fool, Sire. Thank you, thank you.”
“He has to learn everything the Anjin-san knows about building the ship so others can be taught when he leaves.
Neh?”
“It will be done.”
“Next: Kiku-san. Her talents merit a better future than just being alone in a box, one of many women.”
Gyoko looked up, again expecting the worst. “You’re going to sell her contract?”
“No, she shouldn’t be a courtesan again or even one of your
gei-sha
. She should be in a household, one of few ladies, very few.”
“But, Sire, seeing you even occasionally, how could she possibly have a better life?”
He allowed her to compliment him and he complimented her back, and Kiku, then said, “Frankly, Gyoko-san, I’m getting too fond of her and I can’t afford to be distracted. Frankly she’s far too pretty for me—far too perfect…. Please excuse me, but this must be another of our secrets.”
“I agree, Sire, of course, whatever you say,” Gyoko said fervently, dismissing it all as lies, racking her brain for the real reason.
“If the person could be someone Kiku could admire, I would die content.”
“But only after seeing the Anjin-san’s ship under sail within the six months,” he said dryly.
“Yes—oh yes.” Gyoko moved her fan for the sun was hot now and the air sticky and breathless, trying to fathom why Toranaga was being so generous with both of them, knowing that the price would be heavy, very heavy. “Kiku-san will be distraught to leave your house.”
“Yes, of course. I think there should be some compensation for her obedience to me, her liege lord. Leave that with me—and don’t mention this to her for the present.”
“Yes, Sire. And when do you want my son in Yokohama?”
“I’ll let you know that before I leave.”
She bowed and tottered away. Toranaga went for a swim. North-ward the sky was very dark and he knew it would be raining heavily there. When he saw the small group of horsemen coming from the direction of Yokohama he returned.
Omi dismounted and unwrapped the head. “Lord Kasigi Yabu obeyed, Sire, just before noon.” The head had been freshly washed, the hair groomed, and it was stuck on the spike of a small pedestal that was customarily used for the viewing.
Toranaga inspected an enemy as he had done ten thousand times before in his lifetime, wondering as always how his own head would look after death, viewed by his conqueror, and whether terror would show, or agony or anger or horror or all of them or none of them. Or dignity. Yabu’s death mask showed only berserk wrath, the lips pulled back into a ferocious challenge. “Did he die well?”
“The best I have ever seen, Sire. Lord Hiro-matsu said the same. The two cuts, then a third in the throat. Without assistance and without a sound.” Omi added, “Here is his will.”
“You took off the head with one stroke?”
“Yes, Sire. I asked the Anjin-san’s permission to use Lord Yabu’s sword.”
“The Yoshitomo? The one I gave Yabu? He gave it to the Anjin-san?”
“Yes, Sire. He spoke to him through the Tsukku-san. He said, ‘Anjin-san, I give you this to commemorate your arrival at Anjiro and as a thank you for the pleasure that little barbarian gave me.’ At first the Anjin-san refused to take it, but Yabu begged him to and
said, ‘None of these manure eaters deserves such a blade.’ Eventually he agreed.”
Curious, Toranaga thought. I expected Yabu to give the blade to Omi.
“What were his last instructions?” he asked.
Omi told him. Exactly. If they had not all been also written in the will that had been given publicly to the formal witness, Buntaro, he would not have passed all of them on, and indeed, would have invented others. Yabu was right, he thought furiously, reminding himself to remember forever that the pen’s a long arm from the grave.
“To honor your uncle’s death bravery, I should honor his death wishes. All of them, without change,
neh?”
Toranaga said, testing him.
“Yes, Sire.”
“Yuki!”
“Yes, Sire,” the maid said.
“Bring cha, please.”
She scurried away and Toranaga let his mind weigh Yabu’s last wishes. They were all wise. Mizuno was a fool and completely in Omi’s way. The mother was an irritating, unctuous old hag, also in Omi’s way. “Very well, since you agree, they’re confirmed. All of them. And I also wish to approve your father’s death wishes before they become final. As a reward for your devotion you are appointed Commander of the Musket Regiment.”
“Thank you, Sire, but I don’t deserve such an honor,” Omi said, exulting.
“Naga will be second-in-command. Next: You’re appointed head of the Kasigis and your new fief will be the border lands of Izu, from Atami on the east to Nimazu on the west, including the capital, Mishima, with a yearly income of thirty thousand koku.”
“Yes, Sire, thank you. Please … I don’t know how to thank you. I’m not worthy of such honors.”
“Make sure you are, Omi-sama,” Toranaga said good-naturedly. “Take possession of the castle at Mishima at once. Leave Yokohama today. Report to Lord Sudara at Mishima. The Musket Regiment will be sent to Hakoné and be there in four days. Next, privately, for your knowledge alone: I’m sending the Anjin-san back to Anjiro. He’ll build a new ship there. You’ll pass over your present fief to him. At once.”
“Yes, Sire. May I give him my house?”
“Yes, you may,” Toranaga said, though of course a fief contained everything therein, houses, property, peasants, fishermen, boats. Both men looked off as Kiku’s trilling laugh came through the air and they saw her playing the fan-throwing game in the far courtyard with her maid, Suisen, whose contract Toranaga had also bought as a consolation gift to Kiku after the unfortunate miscarriage of his child.
Omi’s adoration was clear for all the world to see, much as he tried to hide it, so sudden and unexpected had been her appearance. Then they saw her look toward them. A lovely smile spread over her face and she waved gaily and Toranaga waved back and she returned to her game.