The day had improved now, the sun jousting with clouds for possession of the sky. He hardly noticed it or his surroundings, his mind occupied with all the details of his departure, who to tell, what to do about Koiko and General Akeda, who to take with him, and his overall concern: would he be in time to minimize the damage in Yedo?

First a bath and massage, decisions afterwards ...

His eyes focused and he became aware of the streets as they marched along, the pedestrians, stalls and ponies and kagas and palanquins, the houses and hovels and stalls and children and fish sellers and hawkers and soothsayers and scribes and all the bustle of the markets. It was a completely new experience for him to be one of many, incognito in the column, and he began to enjoy this completely different perspective. Soon he was gawking like a country person at the sights and sounds and smells of the city he had never seen before, wanting to stop, to intermingle with the crowds, to experience them, what they thought and did and ate and where they slept. "Soldier," he whispered to the young man beside him. "Where do you go when you're off duty?"

"More-me, Lord?" the man stuttered, and almost dropped his spear, appalled at being talked to by the Most High, wanting to kneel at once. "Me, I... go and drink, Sire..."

"Don't call me "Sire,"" Yoshi hissed, startled by the sudden confusion his question had caused in all those nearby, some of whom missed their footing and almost broke ranks. "Act normally--do not look at me! All of you!"

The soldier offered apologies, and those nearby tried to do what he had ordered, finding it almost impossible now that their Lord Yoshi had broken the spell of invisibility. The Sergeant glanced around and came back anxiously. "Everything all right, Lord? Is ev--"

"Yes, yes, Sergeant. Return to your post!"

Automatically the Sergeant bowed and obeyed, the soldiers picked up their step and continued onwards--their barracks a hundred metres ahead. To Yoshi's relief this minor confusion went unnoticed by the crowd alongside who had been bowing as the column passed.

But it had been noticed by two men further down the street. They were the shishi lookout, Ruru, and his replacement, Rushan, a young Tosa ronin, who had that moment arrived at the street stall not far from the Toranaga gateway. "Am I drunk, Rushan? A sergeant bowing to a foot soldier. A sergeant?"

"I saw it too, Izuru," the other whispered. "Look at the soldier. There, you can see him now, the tall one near the back, look how he carries his spear. He is not used to it."

"Right, but... What is it about him, eh?"

"See how the others watch him without watching!"

With growing excitement they scrutinized the soldier intently as the column approached.

Though the soldier's weapons were the same and uniform and everything the same, there was no mistaking a major difference: in carriage, step, the physical qualities of the man, however much he pretended to slouch.

"Lord Yoshi," both men said simultaneously, and Rushan added at once, "He's mine."

"No, mine," Izuru said.

"I saw him first!" Rushan whispered, committed, so impatient he could hardly talk.

"Both of us, together we have a better chance."

"No, keep your voice down. One man one time, that was Katsumata's order and we agreed.

He is mine. Signal me when!" Heart pumping, Rushan eased through the pedestrians and other customers to a better attack position.

They bowed politely, taking him for one of the many, ordinary, low-rank samurai off duty from one of the ceremonial garrisons and gave him no more attention, preparing to bow to the approaching column.

Rushan's new position was on the edge of the roadway. A last look to place his quarry.

Then he sat on a stool with his back towards the column, eyes on his friend Izuru, completely at peace. His death poem for his parents was in the hands of his village shoya, given years ago when he and ten other student samurai had rebelled. They were all goshi and had rebelled when they were refused entrance to the school for higher education--their parents could not afford the necessary bribes to local officials. They had killed the officials, declared themselves ronin and for sonno-joi, and fled.

Of the ten, he alone was still alive. Soon to die, he thought gloriously, knowing he was prepared, trained, at the height of his power and that Izuru would be his witness.

Izuru was just as ardent. He had already decided on his own attack plan if Rushan failed.

Confidently, he moved into a better spot. His gaze left the patrol and went to the gateway.

Guards were preparing for the ritual of checking the others back through the barricade. At once he noticed there was more bustling, and barking orders than usual, the men smarter and more nervous.

He cursed to himself. They know! Of course they know and have known since the column left! That explains why they have been so jittery and irritable all morning. They all knew Lord Yoshi was loose outside and in disguise. But why? And where's he been? Ogama! But why? were they planning another ambush on us? Are we betrayed again?

All the time his eyes darted back and forth, never forgetting Rushan, gauging distances and timing.

Already many pedestrians and shoppers close by were bowing. Any moment the officer would halt the column, the officer of the gate would come to meet him, both would bow, together they would inspect the incoming men and then they would all march away.

The officer held up his hand. The column shuffled to a halt. "Now," Izuru said almost audibly, and gestured. Rushan saw the signal and dashed for the tail of the column twenty metres away, his long sword poised in a two-handed grip.

He burst through the first two men sending them sprawling before they or any of the soldiers realized they were being attacked, and hacked at Yoshi who stared at him blankly for a split second.

Only Yoshi's honed instinct made him lurch towards the death blow, diverting it into a stupefied soldier beside him who screamed and went down.

Shrieking "sonno-joi" in the sudden shouting melee around him, Rushan jerked the blade out as soldiers fought for space, shoving each other out of the way, other guards rushing from the gateway, bystanders everywhere gaping and paralyzed, Wataki, the shishi informer, as surprised as any of the soldiers, and terrified he would become involved or betrayed by this shishi he recognized who had appeared out of nowhere.

Wataki saw Rushan strike again and held his breath. But Yoshi had recovered his balance though had no time yet to draw his sword so he used the haft of his spear against the blow. Rushan's sword sliced through it easily but the blade twisted and slowed slightly, giving Yoshi just enough time to lunge and grab the sword hilt left-handed.

At once Rushan's right hand flashed to his short sword, ripped it out and stabbed for the belly, a classic gambit in hand-to-hand fighting. Again Yoshi was prepared. He had let the spear fall and jammed his right forearm against Rushan's wrist to deflect the blade into his cloak to entangle it. Instantly Rushan let go and his hand, now a murderous weapon with fingers like rock-hard talons, and nails like claws, stabbed for Yoshi's eyes. The nails missed the eyes but sank in below them.

Yoshi gasped. A lesser trained man would have released his grip on his assailant's long sword hilt and would have died. Blindly he hung on, now with two hands, to the man who flayed impotently, out of control now. This gave a soldier behind Rushan the opening to grab him around the throat, and Wataki, knowing the fight was lost and petrified the shishi would be captured alive, thankfully drove his short sword into Rushan's lower back. The strength of the blow thrust the blade right through him. Rushan cried out. Blood seeped from his mouth, but he fought on though blind with death that soared upwards and outwards and ended. Barely a minute had passed since the first attack.