"These are the men you met at the dock yesterday?"

"Yes sire."

"They know you as Watanabe?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Good. They know nothing about your past?"

"No Lord, I did it all as you ordered, everything an--"

"You said sailors in Nagasaki taught you English?"

"Yes Lord."

"Good. Now, first tell they will be well treated and not to be afraid. What are their names?"

"Listen you two, this's the Boss, this's Lord Ota," Misamoto said as he had been told to name Yoshi, his coarse slang American easily understood by them. "I tol' you bastards to bow and scrape or you'd hav' it done for you.

He says you're to be well treated and wants to know yor names."

"I'm Johnny Cornishman and he's Charlie Yank an' so far we's nothing to eat or drink for Christ's sweet sake!"

As best he could, Misamoto translated the names.

"You will tell them nothing about me or what you have done since I took you out of prison--remember I have ears everywhere and I will know."

"I will not fail, Lord." Misamoto bowed deeply, hiding his hatred, desperate to please and frightened for his future.

"Yes." For a moment Yoshi considered him. In the two-odd months since he had taken Misamoto into his service the man had changed radically, outside. Now he was cleanshaven, his pate also shaved and his hair groomed in samurai fashion. Enforced cleanliness had improved his appearance greatly, and even though he was deliberately kept in the vestments of the lowest class of samurai, he looked samurai and wore the two swords now as though they belonged.

The swords were still false, just hilts with no blades within the scabbards.

Thus far Yoshi was pleased with his performance and when he had seen him robed and hatted as an Elder, he had been astonished, not recognizing him. A good lesson to remember, he had thought at the time: how easy it is to appear to be what you are not!

"It would be better for you not to fail," he said then turned his attention to Misamoto's two guards. "You two are responsible for the safety of these two men. The Lady Hosaki will supply further guards and guides but you two are responsible for the success of the venture."

"Yes Lord."

"As to this fake Watanabe," he said, his voice soft but no man mistook the finality therein, "he is to be treated as samurai though of the lowest rank, but if he disobeys correct orders, or tries to escape, you will tie his hands and feet and drag him to wherever I am. You are both responsible."

"Yes, Lord."

"I won't fail you, Lord," Misamoto muttered, grey-faced, some of his terror passing on to the two miners.

"Tell these men they are quite safe. And also that you will be their helper and teacher, there is no need for any of you to be frightened if you obey. Tell them I hope for a quick success to their search."

"The Boss says there's no need to be scared."

"Then why's yous pissing in yor pants?"

"Piss off yorself. I'm... I'm to be in charge so mind yor goddam manners."

"Best watch yors or when we's alone we's feeding you's yor balls. Where's the piss-arsed grub and where's the booze an' where's the doxies we's promised?"

"You be getting it soon enough, and best be polite around these... guys," Misamoto said cautiously. "They's like a cat with a bee up its ass. And the Boss says best find the gold right smartly too."

"If there's gold we's kin find it, Wotinabey, old cock. If it ain't there it ain't there, right Charlie?"

"Excuse me, Lord, they thank you for your kindness," Misamoto said, not quite so frightened. He had suddenly realized that if he was to accompany them he would be the first to know about a strike. "They promise to try to find treasure as quick as possible. They respectfully ask if they could have some food and drink and when can they begin."

"Impress it on them it pays to be patient, pays to be polite and to be diligent. Teach them correct manners, how to bow and so on.

You are responsible."

As Misamoto obeyed Yoshi motioned to his aide who brought out the two short overmantles that Hosaki had had especially made, like waistcoats with ties on them. On the front and back were panels of inked characters on pale silk that read: This gai-jin is a personal retainer and prospector, under my protection, who is allowed, provided he has official guides with correct papers, to prospect anywhere within my domain. All are ordered to assist in this work.

Each panel bore his seal. "Tell them they are to wear it always and it will give them safe passage --explain what the writing says."

Again Misamoto obeyed without thought and showed the two men how to wear them. Cautiously now, they pretended a patience and humility alien to their nature and upbringing. "Charlie," the Cornishman whispered, adjusting the tie strings, hardly moving his lips to speak like most ex-cons --he had had four years hard labor in the Australian outback for claim jumping: "In for a penny, in for a fuckin' quid."

The American grinned suddenly, more at ease.

"I hope there's more than a quid's worth, old buddy..."

Yoshi watched them. When he was satisfied he motioned to Misamoto. "Take them with you and wait in the courtyard."

Once they had gone, after bowing correctly without assistance this time, he sent everyone out of hearing range, except Inejin. "Sit down, old friend." He motioned to the steps where the old man could sit comfortably--his left hip crushed in a fall from a horse making it impossible for him to kneel. "Good. Now, what news?"

"Everything and nothing, Lord." For three centuries Inejin and his forefathers had served this branch of the Toranagas. As a hatomoto he had no fear of speaking the truth but the obligation to do so: "The land has been worked diligently and manured properly, crops grow, but farmers say this year there will be famine even here in the Kwanto."

"How bad will the famine be?"

"This year we will need rice from elsewhere to be safe, and elsewhere will be far worse."

Yoshi remembered what Hosaki had already told him, and was very glad with her foresight and prudence. And also glad to have a vassal like Inejin--rare to find a man who could be trusted implicitly, even rarer to find one who would speak truthfully, the truth based on real knowledge and not for reasons of personal aggrandizement. "Next?"

"All loyal samurai are seething with impatience at the impasse between Bakufu and the rebellious Outside Lords of Satsuma, Choshu and Tosa, their samurai equally discontented, mostly because of the usual problem: rates of pay fixed a century ago are causing ever greater hardship, it being ever more difficult to pay the interest on ever-increasing debts, and to buy rice and food at ever-increasing prices."

Inejin was deeply aware of the problem as the majority of his widespread family, still samurai class, were suffering badly. "Daily the shishi gather adherents, if not openly, certainly undercover. Peasants are correctly docile, merchants not so, but all, except most merchants in Yokohama and Nagasaki, would like the gai-jin expelled."

"And sonno-joi?"

After a pause the old man said, "Like many things on earth, Lord, that battle cry is part right, part wrong. All Japanese detest gai-jin-- worse than Chinese, worse than Koreans-- all want them gone, all revere the Son of Heaven and believe His wish to expel them correct policy. Of your twenty men here tonight, I believe twenty would support that part of sonno-joi. As you yourself do, providing it is the Shogunate who wield the temporal power to effect His wishes, according to procedures laid down by Shogun Toranaga."

"Quite correct," Yoshi agreed, but in his innermost heart he knew that if he had had the power he would never have allowed the first Treaty, so never a need for the Emperor to interfere in Shogunate matters, and would never have allowed mean-minded men surrounding the Son of Heaven to misguide Him.