"I don't know, Edward. You will know how to do that."

He grunted, astounded by the gall, no not gall, more by the cunning. Obviously, her goal was to slide into Tess's favor out of the existing enmity, and to forestall any action, civil or criminal, that a mother such as Tess Struan, torn apart by the agony of her loss, might, will, unleash against her--the current betting five to one Tess Struan would, two to one she would win.

Never mind that, this strategy could squeeze Angelique into the winner's circle--could. With care, not quite as she had suggested it, much more subtly than that, he could do what she proposed without harming his own position and make his deal with Tess who would certainly give him everything he wanted--once the shock of her son's death had lessened and she could appreciate the enormity of what he had to offer.

Better for me to ease Angelique off the Tess Struan barb, much better. What should I ask in return? Her signature, of course but what else? What else do I want from her?

There are all kinds of gambit I co-- Angelique was reaching for the pen. Her face was grave as she signed her name as witness, dating it the day before yesterday. Silently she powdered it dry, blew the excess away, and placed it in front of him, her eyes still downcast.

"Whatever you decide, this is yours now, freely," she said, gambling on his well-advertised sense of honor. "As for the rest, if you help me, Edward," now she looked up at him, something inside of him stirred deliciously, "you would also have my gratitude, my undying gratitude, forever."

Inside the shoya's dwelling, Jamie sat cross-legged on the tatami, shoeless, Hiraga opposite him. At the head of the table was the shoya, and sak`e and tea.

For an hour or more Jamie had answered and asked questions, Hiraga translating, hesitating over the strange words, wanting further explanations to understand clearly. Jamie was tired, not because of the time spent here, a fascinating and a welcome relief from all his other troubles, but because there seemed to be no solution to them. He had been upset by Sir William's refusal to be swayed over the burial, though understanding perfectly --he would have done the same in his position. Poor Angelique, poor Malcolm, poor Noble House. Even poor bloody Tess.

Something has to give. It won't be Wee Willie. It has to be Angelique--there's nothing she or anyone can do. This time I think it will break her.

As simply as he could he had laid out his idea for a joint venture, the shoya and his contacts supplying the goods on consignment they agreed on, Jamie supplying the European know-how, a six months leeway for payment which would give time for the goods to be sold and the money either to come back, or to be reinvested in mass-produced goods that they, in return, would advise the joint venture to import. This led into a discussion of quantities, then into mass production methods that could make them all rich.

"Shoya ask: What cost your massu produk'shun machine?"

"It depends what the machines are to make,"

Jamie said.

"Jami-sama, he ask you, p'rease, you say what goods to make to se're in Ing'rund. Not now, in three day, p'rease. If shoya agree, perhaps make stoku kompeni and bring massu produk'shun machine to Nippon."

Jamie smiled. "Mass production is initially expensive to set up, machines and factory. It's not like the joint venture I suggested. There's no way I could raise that much money."

"Jami-sama, you not worry, not worry about money. Gyokoyama can buy-se're Yedo if want." Hiraga smiled grimly as Jamie blinked. "Shoya thank you and I thank you.

P'rease, in three days, you say what to make and price. I see you home."

"No need for that, thanks."

Hiraga bowed, the shoya bowed, Jamie bowed back equally and went into the evening air.

"Tea, Sire?" the shoya asked.

Hiraga nodded a yes, preparing to leave, needing a bath and massage, but pleased with himself, everything done now except to collect Jami Mukfey's supposed fee of the three koku.

The shoya ordered fresh tea. When the maid had gone, he said, "I have some news. By carrier pigeon, Otami-sama, about Lord Yoshi, and about the shishi you might like to hear."

"Stop playing games! Of course I wish to hear." Now that he was alone with the shoya, Hiraga became imperious and samurai without noticing it. "What news?"

"There's been another attempt on Lord Yoshi."

"He's dead?" Hiraga said hopefully.

"No, Otami-sama, here, please read for yourself." With pretended meekness the shoya offered the sliver of paper, the same he had previously shown to Raiko and Meikin: An assassination attempt on Yoshi at dawn at Hamamatsu village failed. Lone shishi assassin slain by him. Lady Koiko also dead in skirmish.

Inform Wisteria our great sadness. More information soon as possible.

Hiraga read it, and gasped. "When did this happen?"

"Five days ago, Otami-sama."

"Nothing further?"

"Not yet."

Reading the message, his headache seemed to become even worse, his thoughts jumbled. Koiko dead, another shishi dead! Who? If she's dead what about Sumomo? "You've informed the House of Wisteria?"

"Yes, Otami-sama."

"What did Meikin say?"

"She was distraught, Otami-sama, naturally."

"What else do you know, shoya?"

"What I know that affects you and shishi, I tell you."

"What about Katsumata and Takeda?"

"The word, Sire, they were still travelling towards us, as, supposedly, Lord Yoshi is."

"When does he arrive back? Has he changed his plans now?" he asked, his mind tumbling. If Koiko was killed in the skirmish, was it by accident, or had Yoshi discovered Koiko had tentacles to us, as Meikin has? "Eh?"

"I don't know. Perhaps about eight days, Otami-sama." The shoya studied Hiraga's concern and thought that, yes, this youth should be concerned for obviously he is in great danger, but eeee, how valuable he is! I agree he is a National Treasure, or should be. Joint-u ven'shur!

--a godlike idea! My son will go to work with this Jami gai-jin starting tomorrow, to learn barbarian ways and then I will not need Hiraga who represents nothing but trouble to me directly, and so sorry, is doomed. Like we all are, if we are not very clever. "Otami-sama, there are many troop movements around us."

"Eh? What kind of movements?"

"The Bakufu have reinforced the three nearest Tokaido way stations to us. Also, also there are five hundred samurai straddling the road north and south of us." A bead of sweat slid down his cheek. "We are in a box of Tairo Anjo."

Hiraga cursed and, too, felt the pressure increase. "What do you hear, shoya?

Is he planning to attack us here?"

"I wish I knew, Otami-sama. Perhaps telling the Taira about the troops might help to find out what the gai-jin plan."

"They'll bombard Yedo, any fool knows that." Hiraga felt sickened at the thought of the inevitable gai-jin victory though it would serve sonno-joi like nothing else. "There's nothing the tairo can do to prevent..." His heart skipped a beat and he stopped.

"Except, Otami-sama?"

"Except history's answer, the usual answer: a sudden, brutal, surprise attack to destroy the fleet's base." Hiraga was astonished he had shared his thought, and been so open with such a lowly person, even though the shoya was intelligent, a valuable ally, and soon to be a business partner.

Eeee, he told himself through the throbbing of his headache, there's so much I do not understand, the world is turning upside down, everything different, I am different, no longer samurai yet totally samurai. It is these filthy gai-jin with their tempting, sickening, awesome, greed-making ideas.

They must be thrown out--sonno-joi sonno-joi sonno-joi--but not yet. First massu produk'shun, the first to make rifles.