Hiraga pretended to be uninterested but he was sick inside. Which ten and why had they failed?

"When was this?"

The shoya had seen nothing to indicate if Hiraga knew of the attack or not. "Eight days ago."

"How could you possibly know in such a short time?"

To his astonishment the shoya reached into his sleeve and brought out a tiny cylinder. Inside was a roll of very thin paper. "This arrived today. Our Gyokoyama zaibatsu has carrier pigeons for important news." It had actually arrived yesterday but he had needed time to decide how he was to deal with Hiraga. "Important to have quick, accurate information, neh?"

"Were names mentioned?"

"No, no names so sorry."

"Is that all your information?"

The eyes glinted. To Hiraga's shock he added, "The same night, in Kyoto, Lord Yoshi and Lord Ogama and their forces fell on the shishi headquarters, caught them unawares, destroyed it and them. Forty heads were spiked outside the wreckage." The older man kept the smile from his face. "Otami-sama, would forty be a big percentage of our brave shishi?"

Hiraga shrugged and said he did not know, hoping that the shoya could not tell if he lied. His head was hurting as he wondered who was dead, who survived, who had betrayed them, and how could it be that such enemies as Yoshi and Ogama were acting in consort? "Why are you telling me all this?"

For a moment the shoya looked down at the cat, his eyes softened and his fingers began scratching the center of her head and her eyes closed with pleasure, her claws moving in and out of their sheaths without menace. "It seems that not all those ambushed were caught," he said quietly.

"Two escaped. The leader, sometimes called the Raven, his real name is Katsumata, the trusted advisor of Sanjiro of Satsuma, and a Choshu shishi called Takeda."

Hiraga was rocked to his core that so much could be known and his muscles coiled, ready to reach out and kill with his hands if need be. His mouth opened but he said nothing.

"Would you know this Takeda, Otami-sama?"

Anger rushed through Hiraga at this impertinence, he felt his face flush but he held on to a measure of control. "Why are you telling me this, shoya?"

"My Gyokoyama overlord ordered it, Otami-sama."

"Why? What is all this to me? Eh?"

The shoya, to calm his own nerves--though he had a small, loaded pistol in the pocket of his sleeve--poured some more tea for both of them, knowing this was a dangerous game and this shishi was no man to fool with. But orders were orders, and standing orders of the Gyokoyama zaibatsu were that anything unusual, in any of their hundred branches, must be reported instantly. Particularly the Yokohama branch, more important now than Nagasaki as it was the main gai-jin base, and so the main observation post on gai-jin--and he specially chosen for the senior post. Of necessity he had carrier-pigeoned news of this man's arrival, Ori's death, all subsequent events and the actions he himself had taken--all of which had been approved.

"The Gyokoyama..." he began, following instructions and using great care, for he could see Hiraga was seething and unnerved by the revelations, which was their purpose. His overlords in Osaka had written: Put this shishi, whose real name is Rezan Hiraga, off balance quickly. Risks will be great. Be armed and talk to him when he is not ...

"... my Masters thought that perhaps they could be of use to you, as you could be of great value to them."

"Use to me?" Hiraga grated, ready to explode, his right hand nervously seeking the sword hilt that was not there. "I can order no taxes. I have no koku. What use have I for parasites, that's what moneylenders are, what even the great Gyokoyama is! Neh?"

"It is true that samurai believe it and have believed it forever. But we wonder if your Sensei Taira would agree."

"Eh?" Again Hiraga was unbalanced and he stuttered, "What about Taira? What about him?"

"Maid! Sak`e!" the shoya called out, then to Hiraga, "I ask your patience but my superiors... I am an old man," he added humbly, with open self-deprecation, knowing his power in the zaibatsu was large, his yang still functioned perfectly, and if need be he could shoot this man or cripple him and hand him over to the Bakufu enforcers who still guarded their gates. "I am old and we live in dangerous times."

"Yes you do," Hiraga said through his teeth. The sak`e came quickly, the maid poured quickly and fled. Hiraga quaffed some and was glad of it though he feigned otherwise, accepted more and drained that too. "So? Taira? You better make sense."

The shoya took a deep breath, launching himself on what he knew would be the biggest chance of his life, with vast implications for his zaibatsu and all his future generations: "Ever since you have been here, Otami-sama, you have wondered and enquired how and why the Ing'erish gai-jin rule much of the world outside our shores when they are a small island nation, I understand smaller than ours..." He stopped, amused by the sudden blank look on Hiraga's face. "Ah so sorry, but you must know you have been overheard talking to your friend who is now dead, and your cousin, so sorry. I can assure you your confidences are safe, your aims and Gyokoyama aims and shishi aims are the same.

It could be important to you... We believe we know a major secret you seek."

"Eh?"

"Yes, we believe the major secret is their moneylending, banking and financ--"

He was drowned out as Hiraga was convulsed with a paroxysm of jeering laughter. The cat was torn from her tranquility and her claws dug through the shoya's kimono into his flesh. Gingerly he eased the claws out and began to sooth her, controlling his fury, wishing he could beat some sense into the insolent young man. But that would cost him his life eventually--there would be Akimoto to deal with, and other shishi. Doggedly he waited, the task his overlords had given him fraught with hazards: "probe this young man, find out what his true aims are, true thoughts, true desires and allegiance, use him, he could be a perfect tool..."

"You are mad. It's only their machines and cannon and wealth and ships."

"Exactly. If we had those, Hiraga-sama, we could..." The instant he deliberately used the real name he saw all laughter vanish and the eyes focus, menacingly.

"My superiors told me to use your name only once, and then only so you would know we are to be trusted."

"How-do-they-know?"

"You mentioned the Shinsaku Otami account, the code name of your honored father, Toyo Hiraga.

Of course this is written in their most private books of record."

Hiraga was filled with rage. It had never occurred to him that moneylenders would have private books, and as everyone, from the low to the highest, needed their services from time to time, moneylenders would have access to all kinds of private knowledge, recorded knowledge, dangerous knowledge that they could use as pressure or a cudgel to gain all kinds of other information they should not have--how could they possibly have found out about our shishi except by foul means--as this dog is daring to use on me! Rightfully merchants and moneylenders are despised and distrusted and should be stamped out. When sonno-joi's a fact, our first request to the Emperor should be an order for their destruction. "So!"

The shoya was prepared, aware the thread between a sudden, berserk attack and sanity was stretched to breaking, shishi never to be trusted, one hand not far from his sleeve pocket. He kept his voice soft, nevertheless there was no mistaking the threat, or promise: "My superiors told me to tell you that your secrets and those of your father, honored clients, though recorded, are private, completely private... between us."

Hiraga sighed and sat back, the threat cleansing his head of useless anger, and he considered all that the shoya had told him, the threat--or the promise--and all the rest, the danger of the man himself, the Gyokoyama and their like, weighing his choice, his heritage and training in the balance.