Then the Am-I-or-am-I-not took possession of her, racking her. Once, frightened, she had mentioned it to Babcott who said, "Be patient, don't worry." For a moment she wondered if Babcott and Phillip Tyrer would return from Yedo out of the enemy net they had gone into willingly, sent by Sir William.
Men with their stupidities of patience and mendacity and wrong priorities, what do they know?
In Yedo Castle, Yoshi was anxious and irritable. It was midmorning, he was in his quarters and still had no word how the gai-jin doctor's examination of the tairo had gone.
When he came back to Yedo from Kanagawa yesterday with Babcott and Tyrer, he had installed them in one of the daimyo's palaces outside the castle walls that he had carefully chosen, staffed and ringed with trusted guards for further security, and at once invited Anjo for the examination.
The tairo arrived in a nondescript closed palanquin, protected by his own bodyguard--the assassination attempt on him had happened barely a hundred yards away. This, together with the mass shishi attack on Shogun Nobusada and the various attempts on Yoshi had increased the Elders' sensitivity and security needs.
Yoshi, with Babcott and Phillip Tyrer beside him, met the clandestine palanquin in the courtyard. They bowed, Yoshi making the lowest bow, laughing to himself as, painfully, Anjo was helped out. "Tairo, this is the gai-jin doctor, B'bc'tt, and interpreter Firrup Tiara."
Anjo gawked up at Babcott. "Eeee, the man really is as big as a tree! So big, eeee, a monster! Would his penis be in proportion?"' Then he looked at Phillip Tyrer and guffawed: "Straw hair, a face like a monkey, a pig's blue eyes and a Japanese name--that is one of your family names, Yoshi-dono, neh?"' "The name has almost the same sound," Yoshi said curtly, then to Tyrer, "When the examination is completed, send these two men for me." He pointed at Misamoto, the fisherman, his spy and false samurai, and Misamoto's constant guard, the samurai whose orders were never to leave him alone with any gai-jin. "Anjo-dono, I believe your health is in good hands."
"Thank you for arranging this. The Doctor will be sent to you when it pleases me, no need to leave these men here, or any of your men ..."
That was yesterday. All night he had worried and this morning, worrying and hoping. His room was changed. It was even more austere. All traces of Koiko had been removed. Two guards stood behind him and two at the door. Irritably he got up from his writing table and went to the window and leaned on the lintel. Far below he could see the daimyo's palace in the inner circle. The tairo's men were standing guard there. No other signs of activity. Over the rooftops of Yedo he could see the ocean, and smoke trails of some merchantmen and a warship out at sea inbound for Yokohama.
What do they carry, he asked himself. Guns?
Troops, cannon? What mischief are they planning?
To settle his nerves he sat back at his table and continued practicing calligraphy.
Ordinarily the exercise soothed. Today it brought no peace. Koiko's exquisite brushstrokes kept forming on the paper and, try as he could, he could not stop her face rising to the forefront of his mind.
"Baka!" he said, making a false stroke, spoiling an hour of work. He threw the brush down, splattering ink on the tatami. His guards shifted uneasily and he cursed himself for the lapse. You must control your memory. You must.
Since that evil day she had beset him. The smallness of her neck, hardly feeling the blow, then rushing away instead of lighting her pyre, the nights worst of all. Lonely in bed, and cold, but no wish for a female body or for succor, all illusions gone. After her betrayal, her treason introducing the dragon woman Sumomo into his inner chambers--no excuse was acceptable for that, none, he told himself again, none. She must have known about her. No excuse, no forgiveness, not even as he now believed, for her sacrificial charge to receive the shuriken that would have impaled him.
No woman could be trusted again. Except his wife, perhaps, and consort perhaps. He had not sent for either of them, only written, telling them to wait, to guard their sons and keep their castle safe.
He felt no real joy even in his victory over the gai-jin though he was certain it was a superb step forward, and sure that when he told the Elders, they would be ecstatic. Even Anjo. How sick is that dog? Unto death I hope. Will the giant do his magic and cure him?
Or is the Chinese doctor to be believed, he who Inejin says has never been wrong and whispered an early death.
Never mind. Anjo, sick or not, will listen to me now, the others will listen at last, and agree to my proposals. Why not? The gai-jin are boxed, no threat now from the fleet, Sanjiro almost done to death by gai-jin, Ogama satisfied in Kyoto. Shogun Nobusada will be ordered back to Yedo where he belongs, once he explained the part the boy should play in the great plan. And not only returning, but returning alone, leaving his hostile wife, the Princess Yazu, to "follow in a few days," never to follow if Yoshi had his way--no need for the others to be in his confidence. Only Ogama.
Not even Ogama to know all of it, only the part to enmesh the Princess and have her divorced by Imperial "request." Ogama would see to it that she stayed out of the way until she was safely and permanently neutralized, content to live forever within the palace quagmire of poetry competitions, mysticism, and other world ceremonials. And a new husband. Ogama.
No, not Ogama, he thought, cynically amused, though of course I will propose the union. No, someone else, someone she will be content with--the Prince to whom she was once promised, and still honors. Ogama will be a fine ally. In many ways. Until he goes onwards.
Meanwhile there is no need to share an immortal truth I have discovered about gai-jin--with Ogama, Anjo or anyone: Gai-jin do not understand time as we do, they do not consider or think about time as we do. They think time is finite. We do not. They worry about time, minutes, hours, days --months are important to them, exact appointments sacrosanct. Not to us. Their version of time controls them. So this is one cudgel we can always use to beat them with.
He smiled to himself, loving secrets, dreaming of a thousand ways to use gai-jin time against real time to dominate them, and through them the future. Patience patience patience.
Meanwhile I still have our Gates, though Ogama's men control my men who guard our Gates. That does not matter. Soon we will possess them entirely, and the Son of Heaven. Again. Will I live to see that? If I do, I do, if I do not, I do not. Karma.
Koiko's laugh sent a chill down his spine: Ah Tora-chan you and karma! Startled, and he looked around. It wasn't her. The laughter came from the corridor, mixed with voices.
"Sire?"
"Come in," he said, recognizing Abeh.
Abeh strode in, leaving his others outside.
The guards relaxed. With Abeh was one of the household maids, a cheerful, middle-aged woman, carrying a tray and fresh tea. Both knelt, bowed. "Put the tray on the table," he said. The maid obeyed, smiling. Abeh stayed kneeling near the door. These were new orders: no one was to come within two metres without permission.
"What were you laughing at?"
To his surprise she said merrily, "At the giant gai-jin, Sire, I saw him in the courtyard, I thought I was seeing a kami--two in fact, Sire, the other one with yellow hair and blue eyes of a Siamese cat. Eeee, Sire, I had to laugh. Imagine, blue eyes! The tea's this season's, as you ordered.
Would like something to eat, please?"
"Later," he said and dismissed her, feeling calmer, her warm nature infectious. "Abeh, they are in the courtyard? What is happening?"
"Please excuse me, Sire, I do not know," Abeh said, still furious that yesterday Anjo had ordered them all away. "The Captain of the tairo's bodyguard came a moment ago and ordered... ordered me to conduct them back to Kanagawa. What should I do, Sire? You will of course want to see them first."