"Oh yes. But I haven't a hope in hell of covering you or fighting our way out of here, even against bows and arrows."

"I don't plan to have to fight anyone, Captain." Sir William smiled. He turned in his saddle and gave the signal to dismount.

"This's quite a castle, eh?"

"Better than anything I've ever read or heard about," Pallidar said uneasily.

"Beats anything the crusaders had. It makes the great castle of the Knights of St. John in Malta seem tiny. Lovely to defend, I'd hate to have to attack it."

"My thought too. Phillip!" Sir William called out, "ask someone where you pee around here."

Tyrer hurried over to one of the samurai officers, bowed politely, and whispered to him. The man grunted and waved at a casual screen.

"There are buckets over there, sir, and I think he said there's a bucket in the corner of most rooms in case one is caught short."

"Good. Always best to do it before a meeting--even so, a strong bladder is a most important boon to a diplomat." After Sir William, mightily, and the other Ministers had relieved themselves, he led them through the door: Seratard, Count Zergeyev, von Heimrich, van de Tromp, Adamson and a newcomer by the last mail ship, Burgermeister Fritz Erlicher of the Confederation of Helvetia--Switzerland--a bearded giant from their capital Bern who spoke French, English, German, Dutch and many German dialects. Phillip Tyrer and Johann followed closely, Andr`e Poncin alongside Seratard.

The audience room was forty yards square with a massive, high-beamed ceiling, very clean, very drafty, and stone walls with arrow slits for windows. Impassive samurai lined the walls.

Two rows of half a dozen chairs facing each other at the far end. Many doors. Only servants present to greet them. An elaborately garbed though low-rank Bakufu official motioned them to chairs without bowing as servants brought small trays, saying in Dutch: "Please be seated for tea."

Sir William saw that Johann was deep in conversation with his Swiss Minister so he said irritably, "Phillip, ask that fellow where the Council of Elders, the roju, are."

Hiding his nervousness and conscious that all eyes were on him and wanting to relieve himself again, Phillip Tyrer walked over to the official and waited for him to bow. The man did not, just stared at him, so he said sharply, "Where are your manners? Bow! I am a Lord in my country and I represent these High Lords!"

The man flushed and bowed low and mumbled his apologies and Tyrer was exceedingly pleased that he had had the foresight to ask Nakama for some key phrases. He interrupted the man even more imperiously, "Where are your masters, the roju?"

"Ah so sorry, please excuse me, Lord," the man stammered. "They ask that you wait here to, er, to take refreshment."

Tyrer missed words but he caught the gist.

"And after refreshments?"

"It will be my honor to conduct you to the meeting place," the man said, his eyes cautiously lowered.

Again, to Tyrer's enormous relief, he understood. As he told Sir William what had been said he could feel the cold sweat on his back and knew he had been lucky so far.

Sir William snorted and leaned towards the others. "Damned if we should wait, eh, gentlemen? They're overdue--it was agreed we'd go straight to the meeting--damned if I want to wait, nor drink their apology for tea.

Good," he said and added to general approval, "Phillip, tell the fellow we came to see the roju. That's what we want to do now. Now."

"How, er, how strong do you, er, want me to be, sir?"

"For God's sake, Phillip, if I wanted you to be long-winded and diplomatic I would have been long-winded and diplomatic. An interpreter's job is to translate what is said exactly, not to give his interpretation of what is said."

"The Great Lord says: he want see roju now. Now!"

The official was shocked at the impolite bluntness, an unheard-of affront, and was in a complete quandary. His instructions had been clear: The gai-jin will be kept waiting a suitable "face losing" period, about half a candle, when we will send word and you may escort them into our presence. He said rapidly, "Of course I will take you the instant you have had refreshment and everything is ready for your perfect reception but oh so sorry this is just not possible for a little while as their August Persons are not yet in their correct attire so it is not yet possible to comply with your Master's unseemly request, Interpreter-san."

"Please to say again, not fast," Tyrer said nervously, swamped. Another flood of Japanese. "Sir William I think he's saying we have to wait."

"Eh? Why?"

"My Master say, why wait?"

More Japanese which Tyrer lost, so the man turned to Dutch, and Erlicher stepped into the conversation, further irritating Sir William and the others. At length Erlicher said, "It seems, Sir William, that the roju are not, how you say, ah yes, they are not quite ready, but when they are we'll be taken to the audience room."

"Please tell this, this fellow bluntly to take us there right smartly, that we are on time, that high-level meetings are always on time because both sides have other important affairs of State to deal with as I've explained fifty times! And tell him to hurry up!"

Erlicher beamed and said it plainly and however much the official twisted and turned and eventually begged, he bowed and, as slowly as possible, led them through a door, down a corridor--first sending a messenger ahead to warn to the Council of the gai-jin's astounding impertinence.

Another corridor and then, ahead, samurai opened huge doors, the official went onto his knees and bowed his head to the floor. Four men in elaborate silk robes, swords in their belts sat on chairs at the far end of the audience room on a slightly raised platform.

The central chair was empty. In front of them, on a lower level--which all Ministers noted instantly--were six chairs for each of the Ministers and between the two knelt the official interpreter. A hundred or so samurai officers knelt in a half circle facing the door and as Sir William came in, all samurai in the room bowed. The four roju did not.

Sir William and the others bowed back politely, then approached the dais and took their seats: "Under no circumstances do Ministers of civilized nations get down on their knees and bow their heads to the floor," Sir William had said, "whatever your customs, whether you do it or no and that's the end of it!"

Phillip Tyrer, now an expert on bowing because of Nakama, noticed that each time an Elder bowed it was as superior to inferior.

Never mind, he thought, awed and excited, we're in the inner sanctum. When does the Shogun arrive to take the empty chair? A boy? I wonder what he'll look like and what-- An Elder began to speak. With a sudden start, Tyrer recognized him as the youngish official from their previous meeting at their Legation, and also the nervous, swarthy man sitting beside him who had said nothing then but had watched everything with his narrow eyes.

Why had two Elders come to meet with us without announcing themselves as such? he asked himself. Wait a minute, didn't the young Official introduce himself as Tomo Watanabe, yes, certainly he did, "junior official, second class."

Obviously a phony name. But why? And why the disguise?

Unsettled, Tyrer left that to be answered later and gave his attention to what the man was saying, understanding almost none of it, as he had been forewarned by Nakama would happen, who had told him that Court-oriented words would probably be used, most of which, as with most ordinary Japanese words and phrases, had different, often conflicting meanings.

His concentration wandered. The third Elder was rotund with a pudgy face and feminine hands, and the last truly elderly, graying and thin-faced with a bad scar on his left cheek. All were barely over five and a half feet, their winglike overmantles and wide-legged trousers and high-domed, lacquered hats tied under their chins and, above all their immobile dignity, making them imposing.