by Gai-Jin(Lit)
Bakufu official, secretly fluent in
Dutch, whose covert assignment was to report in private to Yoshi on the meeting and the behavior of the other two. As usual, none had used their correct names.
Five palanquins had arrived as yesterday, with the same ceremony though an increased number of guards. Only three were occupied which Sir
William had found curiously disturbing. This, added to heightened samurai activity during the night around the temple and Legation, prompted him to send a partial alarm signal to the fleet by half-masting the pennant that he hoped Ketterer would understand.
Outside in the forecourt, Hiraga, again disguised as a gardener, had been equally perturbed
--even more so that Toranaga Yoshi was not amongst the officials. This meant the attack plan so carefully poised to ambush Yoshi near the castle gates on his return had to be called off. At once he had tried to melt away, but samurai irritably ordered him back to work. Seething, he obeyed, waiting his chance to escape.
"You're two and a half hours late," Sir
William said icily as an opening salvo.
"In civilized countries diplomatic meetings are on time, not late!"
Immediate and flowery apologies of no consequence. Then the usual obligatory introductions and sugary compliments and aggravating politenesses, and over an hour of back and forth, of demands calmly deflected, ponderous arguments, delays requested, astonishment where none was merited, questions needing to be repeated, facts dismissed, the truth disregarded--alibis, explanations, rationalizations, excuses, all courteously delivered.
Sir William was about to explode when, with great formality, the Elder, Adachi, produced a sealed scroll, handed it to their interpreter who handed it to Johann.
Johann's own weariness dropped away.
"Gott im Himmel! It's under the seal of the roju."
"Eh?"
"The Council of Elders. I'd recognize the seal anywhere--it's the same as Ambassador
Harris got. You better accept it, formally,
Sir William, then I'll read it aloud if it's in Dutch which I doubt." He stifled a nervous yawn. "Probably just another delaying tactic."
Sir William did as Johann suggested, hating to be so confined and having to rely on foreign mercenary interpreters.
Johann broke the seal and scanned the document. His astonishment was open: "It's in
Dutch by God! Skipping all the titles, formal language etc., it says: The
Council of Elders, having received what appears to be a just complaint, apologizes for the, for the dereliction of its subjects and wishes to invite the honored Minister of the British and other accredited Ministers to meet the Council thirty days from now, in Yedo, when the formal complaint will be presented, the matter discussed, acted upon, and an indemnity for said just complaint agreed. Signed
... Nori Anjo, Chief Minister."
With a supreme effort, Sir William kept his erupting relief bottled. This unbelievable reprieve gave him the face-saver he desperately needed, and now if he could finesse them just a little further... To his sudden fury, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tyrer smiling broadly. Without looking at him he hissed, "Stop smiling you bloody idiot," and in the same breath added harshly, "Johann, tell them they will have my reply in three days. Meanwhile I want an immediate indemnity, in gold, in three days, for ten thousand pounds sterling for the families of the Sergeant and
Corporal murdered in this Legation, last year, and already demanded four times!"
When this was translated, he saw consternation on the face of the elderly man. Another lengthy conversation between him and the Bakufu official.
Johann reported wearily, "The old fellow dismisses this with their usual: but that
"unfortunate occurrence" was by a Legation staff employee who then committed seppuku-- suicide. It's not the Bakufu's fault at all."
Equally tiredly, Sir William said,
"Give them back the usual, by God: that they appointed him, they insisted we employ him, so they are responsible--and he only committed suicide because he was badly wounded in the murder attempt on my predecessor and liable for immediate capture!" Trying to push away his tiredness, he watched the two officials talking with their interpreter, and the third man listening as he had done all afternoon. Perhaps he's the one with real power.
What happened to the other men from yesterday, particularly the younger man--the one Andr`e Poncin accosted as he left. What is that devious bastard Seratard up to?
The freshening wind caught a loose shutter and jolted it against the window. One of the sentries leaned over the lintel and hooked it back in place. Not far offshore was the fleet, the ocean a deep grey now and whitecapped. Sir
William noticed the looming squall line. His anxiety for the ships increased.
Johann said, "The old fellow asks, will you accept three thousand."
Sir William's face went red. "Ten thousand in gold!"
More talk then Johann mopped his brow.
"Mein Gott, ten it is, to be paid in two installments at Yokohama, ten days from now, the balance the day before the Yedo meeting."
After a deliberately dramatic pause,
Sir William said, "I will give them my answer in three days if it's acceptable."
Much sucking in of breath, a few more wily attempts to change the three days to thirty, to ten, to eight all of which were stonewalled and refused. "Three."
Polite bows and the Delegation was gone.
Once they were alone, Johann beamed. "That's the first time we made any progress, Sir
William, the very first time!"
"Yes, well, we'll see. Just don't understand them at all. Obviously they were trying to wear us down. But why? What's the good of that?
They already had the scroll so why the devil didn't they hand it over in the beginning and have done with all their cursed time wasting? Bunch of bloody idiots! And why send two empty palanquins."
Phillip Tyrer said brightly, "Seems to me, sir, that's just one of their characteristics. To be devious."
"Yes, well, Tyrer, come with me please."
He led the way to his private office and when the door was closed he said angrily, "Didn't the
F.o. teach you anything? Are you totally without brains? Don't you have enough sense to have a poker face at diplomatic meetings? Are your brains addled?"
Tyrer was in shock at the venom. "Sorry sir very sorry sir I was just so pleased at your victory I cou--"
"It wasn't a victory, you idiot! It was just a delay, albeit heaven sent!" Sir
William's relief that the meeting was over and had, against his expectations, achieved much more than he could have wished for, fuelled his irritability.
"Are your ears filled with mildew? Didn't you hear the "what appears to be a just complaint"-- that's the biggest hole they could ever leave, by God!
We achieved a delay, that's all, but it happens to suit me perfectly and if the Yedo meeting takes place in thirty days I'll be astounded. The next time DON'T let your feelings show, for God's sake, and if you ever become an interpreter... you just better learn
Japanese quickly or you'll be on the next boat home with a note on your record that will get you a posting to Esquimoland for the rest of your life!"
"Yes sir."
Still steaming, Sir William saw the young man staring at him stoically and wondered what was different about him. Then he noticed his eyes.
Where have I seen that look before--the same, almost indefinable strangeness that young Struan also had?
Ah yes, of course, now I remember! In the eyes of the young soldiers coming back from the Crimea, the untouched as well as the wounded--allied or enemy. War had torn the youth out of them, torn out their innocence with such obscene speed that forever after they were changed. And it always shows not in their faces but in their eyes. How many times was
I told: before the battle a youth, a few minutes or hours later, adult--British,
Russian, German, French, or Turk the same.<
br />
I'm the idiot, not this young chap. I'd forgotten he's hardly twenty-one and in six days he's almost been murdered and been through as violent an experience as any man can have. Or woman, by Heaven! That's right, there was the same look in the girl's eyes too. Stupid of me not to realize it. Poor girl, isn't she barely eighteen?
Terrible to grow up so fast. I've been so lucky.
"Well, Mr. Tyrer," he said gruffly, envying him--that he had come through his baptism of fire bravely, "I'm sure you'll be all right. These meetings are, well, enough to try the patience of Job, eh? I think a sherry is in order."
Hiraga had had great difficulty escaping from the garden through the circles of samurai, and sneaking back to the Inn of the Forty-seven Ronin. When he reached it, long overdue, he was shocked to discover the assassination party had already left for the ambush.
Ori said helplessly, "One of our people reported that the Delegation had come out of the castle exactly as yesterday, banners as yesterday, that there were five palanquins as yesterday, so we presumed Lord Yoshi would be in one."
"Everyone was supposed to wait."
"They did, Hiraga, but if... if they hadn't left when they did they would never be in place in time."
Rapidly Hiraga changed into a cheap kimono and collected his weapons. "Did you see the doctor?"
"We, the mama-san and I, we thought it too dangerous today. Tomorrow will be fine."
"I'll see you in Kanagawa then."
"Sonno-joi!"
"Go to Kanagawa! Here you're a hazard!"
Hiraga slipped over the fence and went by back alleys and little-used paths and bridges, circling for the Castle. This time he was lucky and avoided all patrols.
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.
&nb
sp; "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.
