Of course, you, a girl, would be their pliant puppet, to subvert Imperial will."

"So sorry, you ask too much of a woman.

I do not want to leave home, nor give up my Prince."

"The Emperor asks that you do this."

"Once again the Shogunate is forcing him to barter, when they should just obey," she had said bitterly.

"The Emperor asks that you assist to make them obey."

"Please excuse me, I cannot."

"Two years ago, the bad year,"

Wakura continued in the same measured way, "the year of famines, the year Ii signed the Treaties, certain Bakufu scholars were searching history for examples of deposed Emperors."

Yazu gasped, "They would never dare--not that!"

"The Shogunate is the Shogunate, they are all-powerful, at the moment. Why shouldn't they consider removing an obstacle, any obstacle? Did he not, his wa destroyed, even consider abdicating in favor of his son, Prince Sachi."

"Rumor," she burst out, "that cannot be true."

"I believe it was, Imperial Princess," he said gravely. "And now, in truth, He asks, please will you help him?"' Beyond herself, she knew whatever she said, it would always return to the "ask." No way out. In the end she would have to comply or become a nun. Her mouth opened for the final refusal but it never happened. Something seemed to sever in her mind and, for the first time, she began thinking by a different process, no longer child but adult, and this gave her the answer. "Very well," she said, deciding to keep her own counsel. "I will agree, providing I continue to live in Yedo as I have lived in the Imperial Palace..."

That conversation had brought her to this night's silence, broken only by her weeping.

Yazu sat up in the bed and wiped her tears away. Liars, she thought bitterly, they promised me, but even on that they cheated. A slight sound from Nobusada and he turned in his sleep. In the lamplight without which he could not sleep he looked more boyish than ever, more like a younger brother than husband--so young, so very young.

Kind, considerate, always listening to her, taking her advice, no secrets from her, everything that Wakura had foretold. But unsatisfying.

My darling Sugawara, now impossible--in this lifetime.

A shiver went through her. The window was open.

She leaned on the lintel, hardly noticing the mansion below that was gutted and smoldering, other fires spotted here and there throughout the city, moonlight on the sea beyond--smell of burning on the wind, dawn lightening the eastern sky.

Her secret resolve had not changed from that day with Wakura: to spend this life wrecking the Shogunate who had wrecked this lifetime, to rip away their power by any means, to return that power to the Godhead.

I will destroy as they destroyed me, she thought, far too wise now to even whisper it down a well. I begged not to come here, begged not to have to marry this boy and though I like him, I loathe this hateful place, loathe these hateful people.

I want to go home! I will go home. That will make this life bearable. We will make this visit whatever Yoshi does or says, whatever anyone does or says. We will go home--and we-will-stay-there!

BOOK TWO

Monday, 13th October

BOOK TWO Monday, 13th October: In brilliant midday sunshine ten days later, Phillip Tyrer sat at a desk on the veranda of the Yedo Legation contentedly practicing Japanese calligraphy, brush and ink and water, surrounded by dozens of filled and discarded pages of rice paper, astonishingly inexpensive here compared with England. Sir William had sent him to Yedo to prepare for the first meeting with the Elders.

His brush stopped abruptly. Captain Settry Pallidar and ten equally immaculate dragoons were riding up the hill. As they came into the square the samurai there, many more than before, parted to allow them access. Slight, stiff bows acknowledged by a slight stiff salute, clearly a newly established protocol. Redcoat sentries, many more than before, opened the iron gates and closed them after the troops had clattered into the high-walled forecourt.

"Hello, Settry," Tyrer called out, running down the main steps to greet him.

"Good God, you're a sight for sore eyes, where the devil did you come from?"

"Yokohama, old boy, where else? Came by boat." As Pallidar dismounted one of the gardeners, hoe in hand, was already hurrying in a half-bowing run to hold the bridle. When Pallidar saw him, his hand went to his holster.

"Get away!"

"He's all right, Settry. He's Ukiya, one of our regulars and always very helpful. Domo, Ukiya," Tyrer said.

"Hai, Taira-sama, domo."

Hiraga put on a vacant smile, his face half obscured by the coolie hat he wore, bowed and did not move.

"Get away," Pallidar repeated.

"Sorry, Phillip, but I don't like any of the buggers near me, particularly with a bloody hoe in his hand. Grimes!"

Instantly the dragoon was there and he shoved Hiraga away roughly, taking the bridle.

"Hop it, Jappo! Piss off!"

Hiraga obediently bobbed his head, kept the vacuous grin in place and moved away. But he stayed within easy listening distance, bottling his desire to avenge the insult instantly--with the razor-sharp hoe, the small stiletto hidden in his hat or with his iron-hard hands.

"Why on earth come by boat?" Tyrer was saying.

"To save time. Patrols report extra Jappo barricades all along the Tokaido and traffic jams all the way from Hodogaya to Yedo, worse than Piccadilly Circus on the Queen's birthday, making everyone more nervous than usual. Have a dispatch from Sir William, he's ordering the Legation closed and you and your staff back--I'm your escort for "face."

Tyrer stared at him. "But what about the meeting?

I've been working like the devil to get everything ready."

"Don't know, old boy. Here."

Tyrer broke the seals on the official letter: P. Tyrer, Esq., British Legation, Yedo: This is to inform you I have agreed with the Bakufu to postpone the meeting from October 20th to Monday, November 3rd. To save unnecessary expense in troops, you and your staff will return immediately with Captain Pallidar.

"Three cheers! Yokohama here I come."

"When do you want to leave?"

"Immediately, the Great White Father says, immediately it will be. Can't wait. How about after lunch? Come and sit down. What's new in Yokopoko?"

"Not much." As they strolled back up to the veranda and easy chairs, Hiraga moved under the lee and continued hoeing.

Pallidar lit a cheroot. "Sir William, the General and Admiral had another bash at the local governor and Bakufu, swearing they would have his guts for garters if they didn't produce Canterbury's murderers--and now Lun's, pretty bloody awful, what?

All they got was the usual fawning and, Ah so sorry, we're watching all roads, all paths to catch them, so sorry for delays and inconvenience! Oh, says Sir William, then you know who they are? Oh no, says the Jappo, but if we check all papers and watch everyone, perhaps we'll find them, we do everything possible, please to help by being more careful of revolutionaries. A lot of balls! They could catch them if they wanted. They're liars."

"Terrible about Lun. Ghastly! I went into shock. Sir William almost had a stroke.

Still no sign of how the murderers got into our place at Kanagawa?"

"Nothing, any more than last time." Pallidar had noted the many pages filled with practice characters but did not comment. He loosened his collar.

"The Corporal left in charge was demoted and he and the other two given fifty lashes for dereliction of duty. Stupid not to be sharp after the other attack. But why the monkey's head?"

Tyrer shuddered. "Sir William thinks it was because Lun jeered at their Delegation, called them "monkeys" and it was their form of revenge."