Most of the daimyo palaces outside the castle walls were deserted. Using cover well, he picked his way from garden to garden until he reached the burnt-out wreckage of what had been the daimyo's palace destroyed during the earthquake three days ago. As planned, his shishi friends were gathered for the ambush near the broken main gate that fronted the main pathway to the castle gate. There were nine of them, not eleven.

"Eeee, Hiraga, we'd given you up!" the youngest, the most excited, whispered. "From here we'll kill him easily."

"Where are the Mori samurai?"

"Dead." His cousin, Akimoto, shrugged.

He was the oldest amongst them, a burly twenty-four. "We came by separate ways but I was near them and the three of us ran into a patrol." He beamed. "I fled one way, they another, I saw one take an arrow and go down.

I never knew I could run so fast, forget them, when will Yoshi pass by?"

Their disappointment was vast when Hiraga told them their prey was not in the cortege. "Then what shall we do?" a tall, very handsome youth of sixteen asked. "This ambush is perfect--half a dozen important Bakufu palanquins have gone by with hardly a guard around them."

"This place is too good to risk for no special reason," Hiraga said. "We'll leave one at a time. Akimoto, you firs--"

The shishi on guard whistled a warning.

Instantly, they went deeper into cover, eyes pressed to openings in the broken fences. An ornate, covered palanquin with eight half-naked bearers and a dozen samurai banner guards was thirty-odd yards away, heading leisurely for the castle gate. No one else was in sight, either way.

Instant recognition of the emblem: Nori Anjo, head of the Council of Elders. Instant decision, "Sonno-joi!"

With Hiraga in the lead they rushed as one man to the attack, slaughtered the front two ranks of guards and hurtled for the palanquin. But in their excitement they had misjudged by a few seconds and that allowed the remaining eight guards, hand-picked warriors, to recover. In the frantic melee, the bearers squealed with fright, dropped their poles and fled--those who escaped the first violent onslaught--and this gave Anjo the moment he needed to slide the palanquin's far door open and roll out as Hiraga's sword went through the soft wood to impale the cushion where he had been a second before.

Cursing, Hiraga jerked the sword out, whirled in defense as he was menaced from the back, killed the man after a searing clash of swords, then leaped over the poles for Anjo who had scrambled to his feet, his sword out and now covered by three guards. Behind Hiraga, five of his friends were duelling with the other four samurai, one shishi was already dead, one helpless on the ground mortally wounded and another, screaming with bloodlust, misjudging his adversary, slipped on the body of a sobbing bearer, and took a terrible cut in his side. Before his assailant could recover, a shishi slashed at the guard with total ferocity and the samurai's head rolled in the dust.

Now it was seven against six.

At once Akimoto broke off his fight and rushed to support Hiraga who had hurled himself at Anjo and his three guards and was being overwhelmed. Feinting brilliantly, Hiraga forced one of the guards off balance and impaled him, withdrew and darted to one side to draw off the other two, giving Akimoto the opening he needed to dispatch Anjo.

At that moment there was a warning shout. Twenty castle guards had rounded the corner fifty yards away and were charging to Anjo's support. The barest hesitation from Akimoto gave a guard time to parry the ferocious blow that would have killed Anjo, allowing him to scramble and flee towards the reinforcements. Now the shishi were completely outnumbered.

No way to get Anjo! No way to overcome!

"Retreat!" Hiraga shouted and, again as one man, the maneuver rehearsed many times, Akimoto and the remaining four broke off their duels and charged back through the damaged main gate, Hiraga last--the badly wounded youth, Jozan, hobbling after them. Momentarily the guards were thrown into confusion. Then they collected themselves and, heavily reinforced, hurtled in pursuit while others intercepted Jozan, at bay, sword high, reeling, blood pouring from his side.

Akimoto was leading the pell-mell retreat through the damaged castle, their line of pullback already well reconnoitered. Hiraga was rearguard, the enemy gaining on him. He waited until he reached the first barricade where Gota waited in ambush to support him, stopped suddenly and the two of them whirled to counterattack, chopping and hacking viciously, mortally wounding one man, forcing the next to fall and bring down another.

Instantly they fled again, leading the enemy deeper into the maze.

Almost stumbling, then rushing through the next narrow gap in the half-burnt wall where Akimoto and another waited in a second ambush. Without hesitation these two cut down the first of the attackers, screaming "Sonno-joi" while the remainder, stunned by the suddenness of the assault, halted to regroup. When they gave their battle cry and jumped over the body of their comrade through the bottleneck, Akimoto, Hiraga, and the others were nowhere to be seen.

At once the samurai fanned out and began a meticulous search, the sky filled with nimbus clouds and menacing.

In front of the burnt-out main gate, Anjo was now surrounded by guards. Five of his men had been killed, two were badly wounded. The two dead shishi had already been beheaded. The young shishi was helpless on the ground, one leg almost severed and he was holding on to it in agony, trying to stick it back together. Jozan was huddled against a wall.

Rain began.

The samurai standing over the youth said again, "Who are you? What's your name, who sent you, who's your leader?"

"I've told you, shishi from Choshu, Toma Hojo! I was leader! No one sent me.

Sonno-joi!"

"He's lying, Sire," a panting officer said.

"Of course," Anjo said, seething. "Kill him."

"Respectfully request he's allowed to commit seppuku."

"Kill him!"

The officer, a big, bearlike man, shrugged and went over to the youth. With his back to the Elder, he whispered, "I have the honor to act as your second. Stretch your neck." His sword sang in the air as he dealt the single blow. Formally he lifted the head by its topknot, presenting it to Anjo.

"I have seen it," Anjo said, following correct ritual, at the same time choked with rage that these men had dared to attack him, dared to frighten him half to death, him, Chief of the roju! "Now that one--he's a liar too, kill him!"

"Respectfully request he be allowed to commit seppuku."

Anjo was about to rave at him to kill the attempted assassin brutally or commit seppuku himself when he sensed the sudden collective antagonism of the samurai around him. The usual fear permeated him: whom do I trust? Only five of these men were his personal guards.

He pretended to consider the request. When his fury was contained, he nodded, turned and stomped off towards the castle gates in the increasing rain.

His men went with him. The remainder circled Jozan.

"You can rest a moment, shishi," the officer said kindly, wiping the rain from his own face. "Give him some water."

"Thank you." Jozan had prepared for this moment ever since, with Ori and Shorin and others four years ago, he had sworn to "Honor the Emperor and expel the foreigners." Summoning his waning strength, he groped to his knees, and was horrified to realize he was petrified of dying.

The officer had seen the terror, had expected it and quickly came forward and squatted beside him: "Do you have a death poem, shishi? Tell it to me, hold on, do not give way, you are samurai and this is as good a day as any," he said softly, encouraging the youth, willing the tears to stop. "From nothing into nothing, one sword cuts your enemy, one sword cuts you. Shout your battle cry and you will live forever. Say it: Sonno-joi... again ..."