"Disgusting, allowing himself to be caught alive.

It is obvious we have been infiltrated." Ori handed the picture back. "Two koku would tempt anyone, even the most zealous mama-san."

"I thought of that too."

"Grow a beard, Hiraga, or mustache, that would help."

"Yes, that would help." Hiraga was glad that Ori was back in his head again, his counsel always valuable. "A strange feeling to know that this is out there."

Ori broke the silence. "In a day or two, soon as I can, I am stronger every day, I will go to Kyoto and join Katsumata to warn him about Joun. He should be warned."

"Yes, good idea, very good."

"What about you?"

"I am safe amongst the gai-jin, safer there than anywhere--so long as I'm not betrayed.

Akimoto's at Hodogaya, I have sent for him, then we can decide."

"Good. You will be safer to try for Kyoto at once, before these pictures are sent throughout the Tokaido."

"No. Taira is too good an opportunity to miss. I will cache swords there in case."

"Get a revolver, less obvious." Ori put his right hand inside his yokata, moving it away from his shoulder, and scratched the bandage.

Hiraga was shocked to see the little gold cross on the thin gold chain around his neck. "Why wear that?"

Ori shrugged. "It amuses me."

"Get rid of it, Ori--it ties you to the Tokaido killing, Shorin and her. The cross is an unnecessary danger."

"Many samurai are Christian."

"Yes but she could identify that cross. It is insane to take such a risk. If you want to wear one get another."

After a pause Ori said, "This one amuses me."

Hiraga saw the inflexibility, cursed him inwardly but decided it was his duty to protect the shishi movement, protect sonno-joi and now was the time. "Take-it-off!"

The blood soared into Ori's face.

His half smile did not change but he knew he was called. His choice was simple: refuse and die, or obey.

A mosquito buzzed around his face. He disregarded it, not wanting to make a sudden movement. Slowly his right hand pulled the chain away from his neck, breaking it. The cross and chain vanished into his sleeve pocket. Then he placed both hands on the tatami and bowed low.

"You are right, Hiraga-san, it was an unnecessary danger. Please accept my apologies."

Silently Hiraga bowed back. Only then did he relax and Ori straighten. Both men knew their relationship had changed. Permanently.

They had not become enemies, just were no longer friends, allies always, but never friends again. Ever. As Ori picked up his cup and raised it, toasting him, he was pleased to find his inner rage so controlled that his fingers did not shake. "Thank you."

Hiraga drank with him, leaned over and poured for both of them. "Now Sumomo. Please tell me about her."

"I remember almost nothing." Ori opened his fan and wafted the mosquito away. "The mama-san Noriko told me Sumomo arrived like a spirit with me on a stretcher, told her almost nothing except that a gai-jin doctor had cut me open and sewed me up again. She paid half Shorin's debts and persuaded her to hide me.

During the waiting Sumomo spoke hardly at all after asking about Shorin, what had happened to him. When the messenger returned from Yedo with your message she left for Shimonoseki at once.

The only news she gave was that Satsuma is mobilizing for war, and your Choshu batteries had again fired on the gai-jin ships in the Straits, turning them back."

"Good. You told her everything about Shorin?"

"Yes. She asked me seriously and then, after I told her she said she would be revenged."

"Did she leave any message or letter with the mama-san?"

Ori shrugged. "She left nothing with me."

Perhaps Noriko has one, Hiraga thought.

Never mind, that can wait. "She looked well?"

"Yes. I owe her my life."

"Yes. One day she will want to collect that debt."

"Repaying her I repay you and honor sonno-joi."

They sat in silence, each wondering what the other was thinking, really thinking.

Hiraga smiled suddenly. "Tonight in the Settlement there was a big celebration, vile music and much drinking, it's their custom when a man agrees to marry." He quaffed his cup.

"This sak`e is good. One of the merchants--the gai-jin you cut at the Tokaido--is going to marry that woman."

Ori was dumbfounded. "The woman of the Cross? She's here?"

"I saw her tonight."

"So!" Ori muttered as though to himself, then finished his sak`e and poured for both of them. A little wine spilled unnoticed on the tray. "She's to be married? When?"

Hiraga shrugged. "I don't know. I saw him and her together tonight, he walks with two canes like a cripple--your blow wounded him severely, Ori."

"Good. And the, the woman what was she like?"

Hiraga laughed. "Outlandish, Ori, total buffoonery." He described her crinoline. And her hairstyle. And got up and parodied her gait. Soon both men were almost rolling on the tatamis with laughter. "... breasts out to here, depraved! Just before I came here I peered in a window. Men clutched her openly, she and a man clutched each other, twirling in a sort of dance in front of everyone to these horrid-sounding instruments, you couldn't call it music! kicking up her skirts so you could see halfway up, and frilly white pants to the ankles. I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself but she went from man to man like a one-sen whore and they all cheered her. The fool who's going to marry her, he just sat in a chair and beamed, imagine that!" He poured but the bottle was empty.

"Sak`e!"

At once the door opened, a maid came in on her knees with two new flasks, poured and scuttled away. He belched, the sak`e getting to him. "They acted like beasts. Without their cannon and ships they are beyond contempt."

Ori glanced out of the window, towards the sea.

"What is it?" Hiraga was suddenly on guard. "Danger?"

"No, no it was nothing."

Hiraga frowned uneasily, remembering how sensitive Ori was to outside emanations. "Do you have swords here?"

"Yes. Raiko guards them for me."

"I hate not having swords in my belt."

"Yes."

For a time they drank in silence and then the food arrived, small dishes of broiled fish, rice, sushi and sashimi, and a Portuguese dish called tempura--fish and vegetables dipped in rice flour and deep fried. Before the Portuguese arrived about A.d. 1550, the first Europeans to appear off their shores, Japanese did not know the frying technique.

When they were replete, they sent for Raiko and complimented her, refused the entertainment services of a geisha, so she bowed and left them. "You can go, Fujiko. Tomorrow, I will be here sometime after sunset."

"Yes, Hiraga-san." Fujiko bowed very low, content to be dismissed without further work as Raiko had already told her her fee was generous.

"Thank you for honoring me."

"Of course nothing that you hear or see will ever be mentioned to the Taira or any gai-jin or anyone."

Her head jerked up shock. "Of course not, Hiraga-sama." When she saw his eyes her heart lurched. "Of course not," she repeated, her voice barely audible, bowed her forehead to the tatami and, deeply frightened, left them.

"Ori, we take a risk with that woman, listening."

"With any of them. But she would never dare, nor the others." Ori used his fan against the night insects. "Before we leave we will agree a price with Raiko to see Fujiko is placed in a low-grade house where she will be too busy to make mischief and be well away from all gai-jin, and Bakufu."

"Good. That is good advice. It may be expensive, Raiko said Fujiko is extremely popular with gai-jin for some reason."

"Fujiko?"

"Yes. Strange, neh? Raiko says their ways are so different from us." Hiraga saw Ori's smile twist. "What?"