"Champagne," Malcolm said, the others echoing him. He was feeling fine now, the elixir as always encouraging him to seem inviolate as well as deadening the pain. When all glasses were filled, Norbert jerked his thumb at the servant who bowed and left them. "Health!" They returned the toasted mildly. He sat on the edge of the desk, tall, lean and confident.

"We're safe from ears here," he said. "First, we, us'n, we represent the three biggest companies, we should jointly write a complaint to Wee Willie, not that it'll do much good, and to the Admiral--we all agree he's an impediment. No reason, Dmitri why you shouldn't have at him too, Cooper-Tillman's got a lot to lose here as well as us. At the same time we should mount a campaign, Struan's and us in Parliament to settle Japan once and for all-- either we smash the Jappos and put them in their place or we quit."

"We're not quitting Japan," Malcolm said and McFay relaxed a little.

"Nor are we," Norbert said thinly, "that's only our ploy for those miserable bastards in Parliament." He picked up a file from the immaculate desk and selected a single sheet of paper. "This's a secret dispatch from London via Ocean Witch from one of our watchdogs there, dated September 16th."

"That's damn fast," Jamie said for all of them.

"We keep abreast, Jamie. Tyler says to share part of it with you three. I'll read it: Yesterday the Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer privately agreed in the next Budget to up the tax on tea by 4 pence the pound, a penny a pint on beer, shilling on all brandy and imported wines, doubling the tax on tobacco..." They all gasped.

"... doubling the import tax on cotton ..."

"Goddamn!" Dmitri exploded. "That's crazy! That and tobacco are the only cash crops we've got in the South! They do that what happens to our war and what happens to your goddam Lancashire mills?"

"We don't have cotton mills though Struan's have. There's more: To muzzle certain powerful factions on both sides of the House they're going to order all our opium plantations in Bengal torched and tea pl--"

"Jesus Christ!" Struan was aghast, Jamie purple and Dmitri in shock. "Then how do we trade in China for God's sake?

Opium to silver to..."

"Parliament don't give a tinker's fart for our Heavenly Triangle," Norbert said grimly, "or Asia, or China, or trade, only staying in office. They want to replant with tea." He replaced the paper in the folder and sat back on the desk, knowing full well the others would dearly love to know the veracity of the document, and what else was in it. "The Old Man said to tell you we've an informant close to the P.m.'s office, his whispers always been true in the past, and that's the God's truth. He says rightly we've got to get this bloody pair out, fast. Dmitri you've got to pressure them from your side. Tyler says whatever's necessary we'll do and asks you to do the same. Agreed?"

Dmitri said, "Agreed. Jesu, I can't believe it."

"I do." Struan raised his glass, wondering where Tyler Brock's trap was. "May they burn in Hell."

Solemnly they drank with him. Norbert refilled their glasses. His face had hardened to focus on Struan. "Next: we're all party to our duel. I don't need seconds and we agreed Wednesday dawn. Sorry, I'm on Ocean Witch tonight, sorry, Tyler's orders--so Wednesday's off. I sugg--"

"Why put it off, there's light enough now." The words were out before Malcolm could stop them and he was pleased that he had reacted so quickly and firmly though suddenly his brain seemed stretched. The silence intensified. Jamie had blanched.

"Not now." Eyes glinting and hiding his amusement, Norbert turned to Jamie and Dmitri, the formal seconds. "I suggest we postpone, gentleman's agreement, till I get back, about three weeks, eh? Then it'll be next day, whenever."

Jamie said, "That's a better idea, Tai-pan. Yes?"

After a moment the tightness in Struan's head seeped away. "Fine," he said, neither pleased nor disappointed but content that he had thrown down the gauntlet again. He did not notice Jamie and Dmitri cover their relief. They finished their drinks and left.

When he was quite alone, Norbert took out Tyler Brock's letter and reread it, his palms sweaty. The first part dealt with their spy's information.

The letter ended: "Get thy arse aboard Ocean Witch and leave on first tide, just thee no other passengers mind. Bring thy inner books, the Jappo gold-mining contract, and all bullion in thy control. We's to meet in Shanghai, secret--that's Witch's first port of call though manifest says direct Hong Kong-- Morgan, me and thee, fast as possible and secret, no one to be wiser. When thee returns to Yokohama, mayhaps thy bed'll be in godrotting Malcolm Struan's room, ay, with his doxie's tongue fawning all over thee if that's thy pleasure--soon she be for sale too.

We's just heard her Dad's fled Bangkok, like Hong Kong, more fraud and swindles, Frog officials this time. They be catching him, trying him and then the guillotine--Frogs bain't like our lily piss-arsed Peelers. Missus sends best wishes."

KYOTO Sunday, 16th November

KYOTO Sunday, 16th November: Well after dark, Yoshi and his guard, muffled and disguised in nondescript clothes as ordinary soldiers, wearily picked their way through the deserted streets of the sleeping, ancient capital where Emperors and the Imperial court had lived for centuries.

The city had been constructed in Chinese fashion with straight streets, the cross streets at right angles, with the sprawling, Forbidden Palace and grounds central to it.

Only the roofs could be seen behind its tall walls --six Gates in the walls. Yoshi avoided it carefully, wanting to elude Ogama's patrols and samurai guarding the Gates, and when he arrived, unheralded, at the Shogunate barrack complex, he went to his own quarters and soon sank gratefully into a steaming bath that could easily hold eight.

"How many fighters do I have in Kyoto, Akeda?" he asked, the aches of his days of forced march beginning to seep away.

Grim-faced, the old general lowered himself into the water beside him, the bath a metre deep. The bathhouse was within the inner redoubt, all maids had been dismissed and sentries posted outside.

"Eight hundred and two of which eighty are sick or recovering from wounds, all sworn to you, all trustworthy, all mounted. Plus the eighteen you brought with you," he said in his gravelly voice.

The moment Yoshi had arrived, Akeda had doubled all guards. He was a tough, hatomoto retainer whose family had served the Toranaga clan for generations and now he commanded their Kyoto garrison. "Not enough to protect you."

"I'm safe here." By Legacy law, this was the only defensible complex in Kyoto, capable of billeting five thousand men if need be, all other daimyos restricted to a maximum of five hundred men--with no more than ten daimyos in Kyoto at any one time, their comings and goings strictly controlled. Time and weak Councils of Elders had whittled Shogunate numbers to under a thousand. "Do you doubt that?"

"Inside our walls, no. So sorry, I meant outside."

"Allies? How many daimyos can I count on?"

Akeda shrugged irritably. "It was totally wrong to put yourself at such risk travelling with so few guards, even more dangerous to come to Kyoto.

If I had been warned I could have met you and escorted you in. If your father were alive he would have forbidden such dan--"

"But my father's not alive." Yoshi's lips set into a hard line. "Allies?"

"If you raised your own standard in Kyoto, Sire, your very own, most daimyos and most samurai would rush to your side, here and throughout the land, more than enough to enforce whatever you wanted to enforce."

"That could be construed as treason."