Leisurely they went through the obligatory compliments and polite questions, fencing, waiting to begin—hands easily on their sword hilts. “Your arrival is a pleasant surprise, Lord Yoshi.”
“I had to come myself to make sure the wild rumors I heard were not true.”
“Rumors?”
“Amongst them that Choshu forces inhibit Shōgunate representatives, legal representatives from their positions around the Gates.”
“A necessary measure to protect the Deity.”
“Not necessary and against the law.”
Ogama laughed. “The Deity prefers my protection to the traitorous Council of Elders who signed gai-jin Treaties against his wishes and continue to treat with them against his wishes instead of expelling them as he has asked.” He motioned to Basuhiro. “Please show Lord Yoshi.”
The scroll, signed by the Emperor, “requested the Lord of Choshu to assume command of the Gates until the distressing matter of the gai-jin was settled.”
“It is not within the Deity’s sphere to dictate matters temporal. That is the law—I must ask you to retire.”
“Law? You refer to Toranaga law, Shōgunate law, all of which the first of your line implanted by force which disavowed the ancient, Heaven-granted rights of the Emperor to rule.”
Yoshi’s lips set into a thin, hard line. “Heaven granted the Emperor rights to intercede between us mortals and the gods in all matters spiritual. Matters temporal were always in the sphere of mortals, of Shoguns. The Emperor granted Shōgun Toranaga and his line perpetual rights to deal with all matters temporal.”
“I repeat that the Emperor was forced to agree an—”
“And I repeat this is the law of the land that has kept the land at peace for two and a half centuries.”
“It is no longer valid.” Ogama waved the paper. “What a previous Emperor was forced to concede, this Emperor has freely cancelled.”
Yoshi’s voice became softer, more deadly. “A temporary mistake. Clearly the Son of Heaven has been given misguided advice by self-seeking malcontents, as he will soon realize.”
“You accuse me?” The grip of all four men tightened on their hilts.
“I merely point out, Lord Ogama, your piece of paper was obtained by false information, and is not according to the law. The Presence is and always has been surrounded by ambitious men—and women. That is why he granted perpetual rights to Shōgun Toranaga and the following Shōgunate to guide him in all matters an—”
A bellow of laughter cut him off and set everyone within the walls even more on edge. “Guide? Guide did you say? The Deity’s to be guided by Anjo Nori, Toyama, Adachi and now that slobbering halfwit Zukumura? By incompetent fools who overrule you at their leisure, make stupid agreements with vile gai-jin, against all daimyo, advice that lay the Land of the Gods and all of us open to destruction?” His face twisted with anger. “Or is he to await guidance from the child Nobusada to pull our nuts from the fire?”
“You and I, we need not wait, Ogama-dono,” Yoshi said smoothly, knowing that his major strength was in his calm. “Let us discuss this in private—the two of us.”
Ogama stared at him. A slight breeze picked up and rustled the banners. “When?”
“Now.”
Thrown off balance a moment, Ogama hesitated. He glanced at Basuhiro. The small man smiled with the front of his face. “I would have thought that important matters should be discussed openly, Sire, not that my poor advice would be of value. Private agreements can sometimes be misinterpreted, by either side—that was your honored father’s rule.”
Ogama’s eyes went back to Yoshi. “This Shōgun visit to the Emperor, to kowtow, to ‘ask advice,’ the first time in the whole Toranaga period, this negates the very kernel of your Toranaga structure, eh? Worse, it clouds any future settlement between the Son of Heaven and … future leaders, for of course mortals will rule, eh?”
“In private, Ogama-dono.”
Ogama hesitated, dark eyes recessed in the weathered face. In spite of himself, in spite of knowing that this man was potentially the only one in the Land who could perhaps gather enough opposition to prevent him reaching the prize he sought, he enjoyed the clash, enjoyed meeting face-to-face. He waved his hand, dismissing Basuhiro, who obeyed at once though clearly disapprovingly. Akeda bowed and also moved away, even more watchful for the expected treachery he had warned against.
“So ka?”
Yoshi bent forward slightly and kept his voice low, his lips hardly moving in case Basuhiro, who had placed himself out of earshot, could lip-read. “The Council vote was four to one against me in favor of the Shōgun visit. Of course the visit is a major mistake, Anjo cannot and will not see that. The present Council will vote as he wishes, on any subject. Nobusada is a puppet until he is eighteen, in two years, when formally he can create many changes and problems if he so wishes. Does that answer all your questions?”
Ogama frowned, astonished that his opponent would be so open. “You said, ‘in private,’ Yoshi-dono, what do you want to say in private that of course I will tell my advisors afterwards and you will tell yours?”
“Some secrets are better kept between leaders, than …” Yoshi added deliberately, “than with certain retainers.”
“Eh? What does that mean?”
“You have spies—retainers—within my gates, neh,? How else did you know I arrived when I did? Surely you don’t think I don’t have men here, and spies within your walls?”
Ogama’s face became grimmer. “What secrets?”
“Secrets we should keep. For example, Anjo is very sick and will die within a year—or at the very least will have to resign.” Yoshi had seen the flicker of immediate interest that Ogama could not totally contain. “If you want proof I could tell you how your spies can confirm it.”
“Good, thank you,” Ogama said, docketing that for immediate action without waiting for guidance. “I would like the means to prove such pleasant news. So?”
Yoshi pitched his voice lower. “Within this year—if we were allied—it will be easy to ensure you are appointed an Elder. Then jointly we would approve the other three.”
“I doubt if we could ever agree, Yoshi-dono,” Ogama said with a twisted smile, “neither on a Council, or which of us would be tairō, the Leader.”
“Ah, but I will vote for you.”
“Why would you be so stupid?” Ogama said blankly. “You must know I would at once demolish your Shōgunate.”
“As it exists, yes. I agree we should. I would like to do it now. If I had power I would do it now and make reforms together with the advice of a council of all daimyos, including Outside Lords.” He saw Ogama’s astonishment increase and knew he was gaining. “But I can’t, I must wait until Anjo resigns or dies.”
“Why not sooner than later, eh? If he’s the boil on your balls, lance it! You are both in Yedo Castle, eh?”
“That would precipitate the civil war I do not want, no daimyo wants. I agree the Shōgunate and Bakufu must be reorganized radically—your views and mine are very similar. Without your support I could not achieve reform.” Yoshi shrugged. “It is difficult to believe but it is an offer.”
The other man said, “With Anjo out of the way you could do whatever you wanted. You could tempt Sanjiro and the fool of Tosa, perhaps both together, eh? If you three allied against me, perhaps I am a dead man and my fief ended. Then you divide them and you are the power.” His lips curled into the smile that was not a smile. “Or more likely they stay together and divide you.”
“Much more likely. So why not choose power to us and not them. First, together we crush Tosa.”
Again the short, hard laugh. “Not easily, not with Sanjiro and his Satsuma legions ready to go to Tosa’s aid at once—he could never allow us to smash Tosa, because then he is isolated and we would turn on him. He would never allow me to smash Tosa which I could do in time, let alone allow an alliance between us. Not possible to split them although they hate each other. At length we w
ould beat them but neither of us can easily sustain a lengthy war—and certainly never while the gai-jin are on our shores and ready to exploit us.”
“Leave the gai-jin for the moment, except to say that I oppose the Treaties, want all gai-jin expelled, want—with all my strength—to fulfill the Emperor’s request, want the Elders replaced and most of the Bakufu dismissed.”
Again Ogama stared at him, hardly able to believe his ears. “Such private thoughts, lethal thoughts, so openly spoken will not remain secret for long. If true.”
“They are true. They are spoken privately, between us. I gamble with you, yes. But there is purpose: Nippon. I propose a secret alliance: together we could control all power. You are a good leader, you possess the Shimonoseki Straits, your cannon cannot stop the gai-jin ships until we can buy or build an equal fleet and modernize our armies—gai-jin ships, cannon and firearms are all we need. And you are strong enough and clever enough to understand the problems confronting us.”
“They are?”
“Five main ones: a weak, stupid and out-of-date Shōgunate supported by an even more stupid Bakufu; second, the nation is divided; third, the gai-jin and the need for us to modernize before their ships, cannons and rifles enslave us like they enslaved China; fourth, how to obliterate all shishi whose influence grows in spite of the smallness of their numbers. And then fifth: the Princess Yazu.”
“Four, I agree. But why is she a problem?”
“Nobusada is a child, querulous and simple, yes, and I think he will remain one. On the other hand, she is strong, educated, and cunning, cunning beyond her years.”
“But a woman,” Ogama cut in irritably, “with no army, no purse, and once she becomes a mother all her energies will be expended on her sons. You see fire in a bowl of water.”
“But say her husband is impotent.”
“What?”
“That is what his doctors whisper to me. Say also he is totally within her spell—believe me this girl has all the wits and devilment of a wolf kami! This visit is her idea, the beginning of her plan: to put him and through him the Shōgunate into the clutches of Court sycophants who have no temporal experience, who will misguide the Deity and wreck us all.”
“She could never do it,” Ogama said sourly, “however clever; no daimyo would accept such madness.”
“Step one: the visit, step two: the Shōgun takes up permanent residence in the palace. From then on, supported by the Emperor’s requests, her brother’s requests, decisions come down through her cronies, one of whom is your Prince Fujitaka.”
“I do not believe that!”
“Certainly he will not admit it. I can give you proof in a little while that he is not really working for you but against you.” Yoshi kept his voice down and filled with sincerity. “Once Nobusada is permanently inside the walls, she rules. That is why she is a problem.”
Ogama sighed and sat back, again weighing what his adversary had been saying, much of which was true, wondering how far he could trust him. Certainly a secret alliance had possibilities, if the price extracted was high enough.
“The answer to her is to break the marriage,” he said thinly. “The Emperor was asked to approve it, eh? Perhaps the Emperor would be happy to request the annulment. At once you neutralize her, gain back support from the many who detest the Toranaga connection as a gross impertinence … not my opinion,” he added hastily, seeing a momentary flush, not wanting an open clash yet, so much yet to hear and to decide.
After a moment, Yoshi nodded. “A good idea, Ogama-dono. It had not occurred to me.” Indeed it had not. The more he thought about it, the more titillating the offshoots became. “That should have priority. Excellent.”
Across the square a horse neighed restlessly and skittered. Both men watched while the soldier holding the bridle gentled her, Ogama wondering in his most secret heart if, when he had eliminated Yoshi—and then, without a hiccup, Nobusada, the rest of the Toranagas and their allies—and became Shōgun, if he should then inherit this Imperial Princess. No woman would ever give me a problem, she would be spawning sons so quickly even gods would smile.
“So what is your proposal?” he asked, his head reeling with the wonderful avenues a temporary alliance might open.
“We make a secret agreement from today to join forces and influence and formulate plans: first to smash the shishi; second to neutralize Anjo and Sanjiro of Satsuma; third, a surprise attack on Tosa being a priority. The moment Anjo is dead or resigns, I will propose you as Elder in his place and guarantee your appointment. Simultaneously Zukumura will resign and a replacement, agreed in advance by both of us, put in his place. Three to two. Toyama I keep, Adachi is replaced by your appointee. I vote for you to be the Council Leader.”
“With the rank of tairō.”
“To be Chief Minister of the Council, that is enough.”
“Perhaps not. In return for what?”
“From today Tosa and Satsuma are considered enemy. You will commit all necessary force for a joint, surprise attack on Tosa the moment it is feasible. We divide his fief.”
“As he is an Outside Lord, his lands should go to an Outside Lord.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Yoshi said easily. “You agree never to ally yourself with Tosa and Satsuma against me, or the Shōgunate. If, I should say when, Satsuma and Tosa separately or together attack you, I bind myself to support you at once with massive force.”
“Next?” Ogama asked impassively.
“You agree not to take sides against me, as I agree not to take sides against you.”
“Next?”
“From today, quietly, each in our own way, we work to annul the marriage.”
“Next?”
“Last: the Gates. You agree that legal, legitimate Shōgunate forces take back control from dawn tomorrow.”
Ogama’s face closed. “I already showed you I am the legal and legitimate representative of the Deity.”
“I already pointed out, though the document is certainly signed correctly, the signature was, regretfully, obtained by misrepresentation.”
“So sorry, no.”
“The Gates must come back into Shōgunate control.”
“Then we have little left to talk about.”
Yoshi sighed. His eyes slitted. “Then, sadly, there will be a new request from the Emperor—for you to leave the Gates and leave Kyōto with all your men.”
Just as coldly Ogama stared back at him. “I doubt it.”
“I, Toranaga Yoshi, guarantee it. In six or seven days Shōgun Nobusada and his wife are within the palace. As Guardian I have immediate access to him—and to her. Both will see the correctness of my argument—about the Gates and much else.”
“What much else?”
“The Gates should not be a problem for you, Ogama-dono. I would give guarantees not to flaunt this in your face, would ‘gratefully accept your kind invitation to assume control,’ would not fortify them against you. What is so difficult? The Gates are mostly a symbol. I advise you formally, to continue the peace and ensure order in the Land until Anjo is onwards, the Shōgunate should have their place there.”
Ogama hesitated, in a quandary. Yoshi could easily have such another “request” sent to him, that he would have to accept. “I will give you an answer, in a month.”
“So sorry, noon on the sixth day from now is the limit.”
“Why?”
“In five days Nobusada reaches Otsu. By the dusk on the sixth day Nobusada will go through the Gates. I require possession, temporary possession, before that.” It was said so gently and so politely.
Their eyes locked. Noncommittally, but equally politely, Ogama said, “I will think about all of this, Yoshi-dono.” Then he bowed, Yoshi bowed, both men walked to their palanquins and everyone in the square sighed with relief that their ordeal was over and the expected bloodbath had not happened.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FRIDAY, 21ST NOVEMBER:
The way station of otsu had been bust
ling all day in a crescendo of excitement, anticipation paired with fear over final preparations for tonight’s stop of the impossibly august visitors, Shōgun Nobusada and the Princess Yazu. For weeks the citizens had been brooming streets, cleaning all dwellings, hovels, outhouses—roofs, walls, wells, gardens manicured—new tiles, shojis; tatamis, verandas, with the Inn of Many Flowers, the best and biggest in the whole of Otsu, still in a state of near panic.
It had begun the moment it was known the Hallowed Travellers had declined to stay in the nearby Shōgunate castle of Sakamoto that had graced the area since before Sekigahara, selecting the Inn instead: “Everything must be perfect!” the Patron wailed, awed and at the same time petrified. “Anything not perfect will merit beheading or at the very least a whipping, man, woman or child! Tales of the honor done to us this one night will be remembered through the ages—our successes or failures! The Lord High Shōgun himself? In all his glory? His wife, a sister of the Deity? Oh ko…. ”
Late in the afternoon, veiled, surrounded by guards and counselors and well screened from being observed, Shōgun Nobusada hurried from his palanquin through the gates into the isolated section of the Inn reserved for him, with the Princess and their entourage of personal bodyguards, servants, her ladies-in-waiting and maids. There were forty traditional raised bungalows of four rooms each, surrounding the inner sanctum of the Shōgun’s sleeping quarters and bathhouse, many of the covered verandas interlocking in a maze of pleasing walks and bridges over delicate pools and streams that came down from tiny mountains and all self-contained within a high, thick hedge of manicured hemlocks.
The room was warm and spotless, with new tatamis and polished charcoal braziers. Nobusada threw his veiled hat and outer clothes aside, tired and querulous. As always the palanquin had been uncomfortable and the ride bumpy. “I hate this place already,” he said to their Chamberlain, whose head was touching the floor beside those of an echelon of maids. “It’s so small and stinks and I ache all over! Is the bath ready?”