Coldly, he scrutinized what he had done, the placement of the poem and the whole picture that the shades of black calligraphy made within the expanse of white, the shape and the fluid, obscured clearness of his characters.

It's good, he thought without vanity. I cannot do better yet--this is almost to the limit of my capability, if not at the limit. What about the meaning of the poem, how it should be read?

Ah, that's the important question, that's why it is good. But will it achieve what I want?

These questions prompted him to review the shocking state of affairs here and at Kyoto. Word arrived a few days ago that there had been a sudden, bloody but successful coup there by Choshu troops who had thrown out Satsuma and Tosa forces who had, for the last six months, held power there in an uneasy truce. Lord Ogama of Choshu now commanded the Palace Gates.

At the hastily convened meeting of the Council tempers had flared, Anjo almost frothing with fury. "Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa! Always those three. They're dogs who must be crushed!

Without them everything would be in control."

"True," Yoshi had said, "I tell you all again we must order our troops in Kyoto to put down the rebellion at once--whatever the cost!"

"No, we have to wait, we have insufficient forces there."

Toyama, the old man, wiped his grizzled chin and said, "I agree with Yoshi-dono. War is the only way, we must declare Ogama of Choshu outlaw!"

"Impossible!" Adachi had said querulously, for himself and the last Elder. "We agree with Anjo, we cannot risk offending all daimyos, encouraging them to mass against us."

"We must act at once!" he had repeated. "We must order our troops to retake the Gates, put down the rebellion."

"We have insufficient forces," Anjo had said stubbornly. "We will wait. Now is not the time."

"Why won't you listen to my advice?"' By now Yoshi was so angered that it almost surfaced.

He had contained it with an effort, knowing that to rave and lose his temper would be a fatal error and turn them all permanently against him. Wasn't he the youngest, the least experienced but the most qualified, with the most influence amongst daimyos who could, if he wished, alone amongst the Elders, raise his standard and pitch the whole country into civil war as had existed for centuries before the Shogun Toranaga? were they not all jealous and spitting when he was appointed Guardian and an Elder by Imperial "request" without consulting them, by whomever the Son of Heaven was manipulated?

"I know I'm right. Wasn't I right about the gai-jin? I'm right about this."

The plan he had conceived to remove the gai-jin and their fleet from Yedo to gain time to deal with their own internal problems had been a perfect success.

It was so simple: "With great ceremony and feigned humility we give the gai-jin a pittance of a ransom, propose a future meeting with the Council which will be delayed and further delayed or cancelled, or even staged with puppets if need be, implying at the last moment, when their patience is at an end, that a meeting with the Shogun when he returns is to be arranged--which can also be delayed, renegotiated and delayed and will never happen, or even if it does sometime in the future, it will produce nothing we do not wish.

"We gained some of the time we needed, and discovered a permanent way of dealing with them: use their impatience against them, give them "promises" and lots of soup but no fish, or at the most a few rotting pieces we don't need or want.

They were satisfied, their fleet sailed away into the storm and perhaps under the sea. None have returned yet."

Old Toyama said, "The gods aided us with that storm, again their Divine Wind, kamikaze wind, as they did against Kublai Khan's invading hordes centuries ago. When we expel them it will be the same, the gods will never forsake us."

Adachi had been preening himself. "It's true I carried out our plan to perfection. The gai-jin were as docile as a fifth-rate courtesan."

"Gai-jin are a sore that will never heal while we are weaker in military power or wealth,"

Anjo said irritably, wringing his hands. "They are a sore that will not heal--not without burning it out, and we cannot do that yet, not yet, not without means to build ships and make cannon. We cannot be diverted and order troops to take the Gates, not yet. They are not the immediate enemy, nor Choshus, the immediate enemy is sonno-joi and shishi dogs."

Yoshi had noticed how very much Anjo had changed since the assassination attempt: now he was far more irascible, stubborn, his resolve weakened though his influence over the other Elders had not. "I don't agree but if you think we have insufficient forces let us order a general mobilization and let us finish the outside lords and any who join them!"

Toyama said, "War is the only way, Anjo-sama, forget shishi, forget gai-jin for the moment. The Gates--first we must repossess our hereditary rights."

Anjo had said, "We will, at the right time.

Next: the Shogun's visit will go forth as planned."

Over his further protests Anjo had again carried the vote, three to two, and in private had added malevolently, "I told you, Yoshi-dono, they will always vote with me, shishi will never succeed against me, nor will you, nor will anyone."

"Even Shogun Nobusada?"' "He... he is not an enemy and he takes my advice."

"And the Princess Yazu?"' "She will obey... she will obey her husband."

"She will obey her brother, the Emperor, until she dies."

To his shock Anjo had said with a twisted smile, "You propose an accident? Eh?"' "I propose nothing of the sort."

Yoshi felt chilled, afraid the man was becoming too dangerous to leave alive, already too powerful to neutralize, too farsighted, supported by a swarm of cohorts ready and able to swallow him up...

A silhouette was approaching the door, almost noiselessly. Without thinking his right hand went to his long sword that lay beside him even though he was sure he recognized her. The figure knelt.

Delicate knock.

"Yes?"

She slid the door back smiling, bowed and waited.

"Please come in, Koiko," he said, delighted with this unexpected visit, all his demons vanishing.

She obeyed, closed the door and ran over to him, her long, multipatterned kimono sibilant, knelt again and pressed her cheek to his hand, at once noticing the picture poem. "Good evening, Sire."

He laughed, and gave her a tender hug.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I missed you," she said simply. "May I see your poem?"

"Of course."

As she studied his work, he studied her, a constant pleasure for him in the thirty-four days she had been here within the castle walls.

Extraordinary clothes. Pure eggshell skin, shining raven hair that, when loosed, would reach to her waist, delicate nose, her teeth left white as were his and not blackened in Court fashion.

"Stupid!" his father had said to him as soon as he could understand. "Why should we blacken our teeth just because it's a Court custom started by an Emperor centuries ago whose teeth were old and rotting, who therefore decreed that dyed teeth were superior to having teeth like animals! And why use paints for our lips and cheeks as some still do because another wanted to be a woman and not a man, pretended to be one, and courtiers imitated him-her to curry favor."

Koiko was twenty-two years old, Tayu, the highest possible grade of geisha in the Willow World.

Hearing whispers about her and curious, some months ago he had sent for her, enjoyed her company and then, two months ago, had ordered her mama-san to submit a proposal for her services. Correctly the proposal had gone to his wife to deal with. His wife had written from Dragon's Tooth, their castle home: Beloved Husband, I have today concluded satisfactory arrangements with the mama-san for the Tayu Koiko of the House of Wisteria.