by Anthony Grey
‘Gotaro and Prince Tanaka intercepted the Nipponese fisherman when he went to the temple nearby. They took him prisoner and forced him to lead them back to the barn. They burst in at a moment when the barbarian was on the point of embracing me . .
‘Oh no!’ Eiko stared at her aghast. ‘Then the prince saw everything?’
‘Not everything,’ whispered Tokiwa. ‘But enough to make him furious. I was only partly clad, and I told him later that he had arrived just in time to prevent the foreign barbarian violating me.’
‘Did he believe you?’
Tokiwa hesitated, fighting to hold back tears that sprang to her eyes. ‘I hope so. After I told the lie he looked very angry for a moment. I was afraid my life might be in danger.’
‘Then it was right to say what you did, O Tokiwa- san.’ The peasant maid reached out impulsively and laid her hand on the geisha’s .rm. ‘You truly didn’t deserve to die for what you did. Perhaps you saved your own life by telling an untruth...’
‘But I have dishonoured myself by lying,’ said Tokiwa, choking back a sob. ‘I am so ashamed. .
‘You showed great fortitude,’ said Eiko quietly, leaning closer. ‘It took courage to follow the instincts of your heart - and you felt it was the will of the kami, remember. I’m sure it was not the will of the kami that you should die. There’s no dishonour in that.’
Tokiwa bowed her head, and her shoulders shook as she wept silently. Eiko watched her with an expression of extreme concern etched on her simple face, and waited patiently until she had become calm again.
‘Was there more fighting when Prince Tanaka and Gotaro burst into the barn, Tokiwa-san?’
She nodded mutely. ‘Gotaro leapt upon the barbarian, who was unprepared for action, and would have killed him - but Prince Tanaka intervened.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the barbarian had helped Prince Tanaka, and the officials of Nippon, in some way when they first visited the black ships?
‘And this saved his life?’
‘Yes. To repay this debt of gratitude, Prince Tanaka set the barbarian and his companion free. He ordered them to return immediately to their ship, under pain of death - but I think they disobeyed that order. Three days ago a messenger arrived here saying they were seen riding inland. Prince Tanaka left immediately with a troop of warriors, to go in search of them again. .
A soft footfall in the garden outside caused her to break off suddenly, and they looked up in time to see Prince Tanaka stride into the pavilion. His unsmiling face showed signs of fatigue but he was wearing fresh body armour, a new red cloak, and twin swords thrust into his waist sash. On catching sight of him, both Tokiwa and the maid rose quickly to their feet and bowed low in greeting. Then the maid withdrew from the pavilion, leaving them facing each other in an awkward silence.
‘Greetings, O Tokiwa-san he said shortly, inclining his head a fraction in her direction. ‘Unfortunately my visit must be brief. Matters of great importance demand my attention. I came merely to satisfy myself of your well-being.’
‘I am well, thank you, O Kami-san, as you can see,’ she said quietly, keeping her eyes lowered and avoiding his gaze. ‘And I’m very glad to see that you too are safe:
‘I hope you’ve been comfortable and well treated:
he said in the same stiff tone, deliberately keeping a distance of several feet between them. ‘If there’s anything further you need, I will command it before I leave.’
‘I need nothing more for my physical comfort, O Kami-san,’ she said slowly, lifting her head to look at him. ‘But it is a great strain living here in total ignorance of all that is happening.’
‘You know very well you are being kept here for your own safety he broke in sharply. ‘Our enemies have already kidnapped the wife and children of one important official, to force him to do their bidding. They would not hesitate to kidnap you too..:
She looked at him with startled eyes. ‘Has fighting already broken out with the foreign barbarians?’
‘No, not yet,’ he said grimly. ‘But the crisis will reach its climax early tomorrow morning. Within a few hours we shall know whether there is to be war.’
‘What is to happen tomorrow morning, O Kami-san?’ she asked anxiously.
‘The foreign barbarians are to land a powerful armed force on the beach at Kurihama. That force will be led by their admiral. We’ve agreed to allow them to present a letter addressed to His Imperial Majesty...’
‘I don’t understand,’ she said hesitantly. ‘How could such a ceremony lead to war?’
‘Because they are heavily outnumbered, they are going to sail their ships in close and train all their heavy guns on the shore. We have more than one hundred thousand warriors drawn up along the coast, ready to give battle, many of them hidden from sight. Their barbarian force can only be a few hundred strong, but one false step by either side could be a spark that ignites the gunpowder keg...’
‘If fighting begins, what will happen, O Kami-san?’
Tanaka’s face darkened. ‘In an all-out fight we would possibly kill all their fighting men through our vast weight of numbers. But it would be a bloody and costly battle, because they have superior weapons. And we could not stop them destroying all our coastal cities and villages with their guns.. This would cause great loss of life. They could also return soon with many more guns and ships...’
As he spoke, Tokiwa noticed that his left hand flexed and unflexed unconsciously on the hilt of his long sword, betraying the extreme tension he felt. Although he made no effort to move any nearer, his eyes never left her face and she sensed that despite the coldness of his voice, he was fighting an inner battle to conceal his true feelings. In her turn she felt seized by a new sense of inner turmoil; seeing him face to face again seemed to churn up the unfamiliar and confusing tangle of emotions that had arisen during the past few days.
A silence lengthened between them and she had an irrational urge to blurt out to him that she believed she was with child, just to see how he reacted. But she bit back the temptation, realizing suddenly that she ached above all else to know whether his search for the foreign barbarian had been successful - whether the barbarian had been killed or was still alive. Yet she sensed instinctively that this unspoken question was a large part of the reason why he now held himself aloof stifling a desire to come close and embrace her.
‘Has your latest mission been successfully concluded, O Kami-san?’ she asked at last in a diffident voice, attempting to disguise the real aim of her enquiry ‘You were gone much longer than I expected
Tanaka’s eyes glittered more brightly. ‘I did not succeed in recapturing the foreign barbarian, Tokiwa-san, if that is what you are asking. He and the castaway foolishly disobeyed my orders. They rode inland and attempted to scale Fuji-san unaided. Unfortunately they were pursued also by our worst enemies, led by the son of Lord Daizo. There was much bloodshed and fighting on the mountain...’
Tokiwa stared at him aghast. ‘Were they killed, O Kami-san?’
‘The castaway was slain with arrows: replied Tanaka, watching her face closely. ‘His body was tossed into one of the high craters.’
Tokiwa closed her eyes briefly but regained her composure after a moment. ‘And the barbarian himself?’
‘The barbarian was about to be butchered when I led my samurai in a surprise attack on the forces of Lord Daizo. He started off down the mountain - but some of Daizo’s warriors caught him and cut him down...’
‘So you saw him killed?’ asked Tokiwa, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Tanaka shook his head. ‘I think he was carried wounded from the mountain by Daizo’s men. My force was too small to defeat them. I had already lost many warriors and we had to retreat to avoid annihilation... We tried to follow them down the mountain but they lost us in the darkness.’
‘Where is the foreigner now?’
Tanaka’s stony expression became more severe. ‘I’ve spent the past three days trying to find him. I enl
isted the aid of local clansmen who helped me search in all directions between Fuji-san and the Bay of Yedo. But we’ve been unable to find any trace at all’
‘What could have happened to him?’
‘I believe the son of Lord Daizo has been concealing the barbarian by day, and moving him secretly each night under cover of darkness towards Kurihama?
‘Why has he done that, O Kami-san?’
Tanaka sucked in his breath sharply and his dark eyes glittered. ‘Because Lord Daizo is the most rabid advocate of all-out war against the foreigners. We’ve picked up rumours that he plans to produce the captive in chains at the very moment the ceremony begins at Kurihama... . He will denounce the treachery of the foreign barbarians and cry out loudly to all the assembled samurai of Nippon to launch an immediate attack. .
‘How awful, O Kami-san whispered Tokiwa.
Tanaka nodded quickly. ‘Now perhaps you understand why I have no time to waste. I still have the support of some regional clansmen and I must continue to organize their warriors in the search for the foreign barbarian. We shall ride all through the night
- we must intercept him before morning if war is to be avoided!’
Tokiwa lowered her eyes. ‘I wish you success in your quest.’
He half turned, making as if to leave, then hesitated. ‘You seem somewhat pale, O Tokiwa-san. Are you feeling unwell?’
She looked up at him uneasily, seized by an irrational fear that by some freak of insight he could understand her suspicions about her body and the strange feelings she had been experiencing. ‘I have felt a little tired for the past few days, O Kami-san,’ she said evasively. ‘But I don’t really know why.’
He turned back, staring intently, and her feelings of anxiety intensified under his gaze. His features were impassive but his eyes glittered suddenly, as though some deep inner anger had momentarily got the better of him. Drawing in a long breath, he took two quick steps towards her.
‘These are times of great upheaval, O Tokiwa-san,’ he said coldly. ‘I wished you to remain quietly in seclusion but you chose to defy that wish. And now your questions to me indicate that your mind is still restless with curiosity. .
‘What do you mean, O Kami-san?’ she asked haltingly.
‘I think you know what I mean,’ said Tanaka in the same cold tone. ‘And you should perhaps consider whether it is wise to concern yourself so much with the fate of a foreign barbarian spy who has been the cause of so much conflict.’
‘I meant no offence: she began, alarmed by his rising anger. ‘My questions were first and foremost about you and your affairs, in which I am naturally most interested . .
‘Your encounter with the barbarian has already brought you close to death,’ he said sharply, ignoring her protest. ‘So do nothing that will resurrect that risk.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ she said unsteadily.
‘When I asked if you had unfastened your sash willingly for the foreign barbarian, you insisted you had not. I can only hope you were telling me the truth.’ Tanaka moved a final pace nearer. ‘If your reply had been “Yes”, I would have had no choice but to kill you instantly, with my own sword. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, O Kami-san,’ she whispered, lowering her head. ‘I understand,’
He stared hard at her in silence for a moment. ‘Furthermore, if it should emerge later that you were not completely truthful about these events, O Tokiwa-san, you will still face that same danger. Do you understand that also?’
‘Yes, I understand that also,’ she whispered without looking up.
‘I’m very glad to hear it. Now I must resume my urgent duties. I bid you farewell.’
Swinging on his heel, he strode out into the garden the way he had come and, as soon as his footsteps had faded into the darkness, Tokiwa sank slowly to her knees on the tatami. Her body, she was suddenly certain, felt truly different; there was a lightness as well as a sensation of fullness in her limbs but these feelings, she realized, were recognizable only to her instinct, not to her physical senses. Burying her face in her hands, she began to sob loudly, and went on sobbing, even though Eiko, on hearing her, rushed back to the pavilion and knelt to embrace her with both arms.
41
‘THE RESPONSIBILITIES you and I carry, Haniwara-san, will be very grave,’ said the Governor of Uraga in a low voice, leaning close to the ear of his interpreter. ‘Prince Toda of Idzu and Prince Ido of Iwami will be seated on stools facing the foreign barbarians when they come ashore. But both honourable officials have been ordered to comply rigidly with our laws, which forbid all forms of verbal communication between high imperial dignitaries and foreign barbarians.’
Haniwara Tokuma’s thin face, already pale and drawn, tautened further. ‘Thank you for informing me of this, Shacho-san. Does this mean Prince Toda and Prince Ido will not speak at all during the entire ceremony?’
‘That is correct, Haniwara-san,’ replied the governor quietly. ‘The Council of the Shogun has issued an edict insisting they may not utter a single word here in presence of the foreign barbarians. They have been authorized to rise and bow silently in greeting and farewell, that is all. Only you and I will speak
The interpreter glanced anxiously around the hastily constructed ceremonial pavilion in which they were standing. Midnight had long passed and perspiring artisans clutching hammers, saws and other tools were working by paper-lantern light to put the finishing touches to two airy, high-canopied chambers built of striped red-and-white canvas and timber. Erected on the beach at the head of a sandy, crescent- shaped bay close to the straggling village of Kurihama, the pavilion was carefully screened from the sea by high canvas barriers and ringed by hundreds of guards carrying every form of weapon from flintlock muskets to swords and lances.
Haniwara and the governor were standing in a large entrance hall where the floor had been covered in white cloth. A pathway of red carpet was being fixed in place leading across it and up three shallow steps towards a larger, more sumptuously adorned inner chamber. The floor of this inner chamber was entirely carpeted in red, and the high walls were draped with violet and white silken hangings on which the Tokugawa shogunate’s coat of arms had been embroidered. Vivid green-and-gold silkscreen paintings of wooded landscapes with cranes and other birds depicted in flight were being stretched from the floor to the draped ceiling on all three sides of this inner reception chamber and at the far end a large, scarlet-lacquered chest with gilded feet was being moved into a central position by sweating labourers.
‘That box: said the governor, pointing towards the scarlet chest, ‘will play two important roles - one of them ceremonial, one of them secret?
‘What is it for, Shacho-san?’ asked the interpreter agitatedly, stepping round a group of loin-clothed workers to hurry after the governor, who had started up the three broad steps to the inner chamber. ‘Is the letter of the foreign barbarians to be placed in the box?’
‘Not in the box, Haniwara-san,’ replied the governor carefully, ‘but on top of it. When the admiral and the other foreign barbarians have arrived and seated themselves, your first duty will be to announce to them the names of our imperial representatives. Then you will ask them if the original letter and translations are ready for delivery?
‘And what do I reply, Shacho-san, if they say yes?’
‘You will indicate that Prince Toda is ready to receive the letters. But he will not touch them and he is not to be approached under any circumstances. You will make it clear that the correct receptacle for such communications is the lid of the scarlet chest. And you will invite the barbarians to place them on its lid themselves.’
‘I understand, Shacho-san,’ said the interpreter, glancing nervously towards the chest which, like a grand altar, had been shifted into place close to the centre of the chamber’s rear wall. ‘I shall memorize each of those steps very carefully.’
The governor nodded his approval and stopped in front of the chest, gesturing with one hand towards two keg-s
haped stools of white porcelain decorated with blue mountain motifs which had been positioned to the left of it. ‘Throughout the ceremony, Prince Toda and Prince Ido will remain seated on these stools. The admiral and two other leading foreign barbarians will be invited to sit facing them here on the right side of the chest . - .‘ The governor paused and waved his hand towards three heavy, hand-carved, wooden chairs with raised sides which gave them the appearance of small thrones. ‘These are the nearest pieces of furniture that could be found resembling the seats used by the barbarians in their own country. They have been brought here specially from a Buddhist temple, where they are normally used by priests when conducting funerals. .
‘What will happen after the foreign barbarians have deposited their letters on the red chest, Shacho-san?’ interjected the interpreter nervously. ‘Will the ceremony then be at an end?’
‘No, not quite,’ replied the governor. ‘When the letters have been placed on the chest, I will go to make a low obeisance before Prince Ido. I will then receive from his hands a sealed imperial receipt for the letters. I will bring it to the foreign barbarian admiral and, after offering similar formal respects to him, I will hand it over. You will be given a copy and will make its contents known verbally at that moment.’
‘What will the imperial receipt say, Shacho-san?’
‘After acknowledging that the letter has duly been received on behalf of His Imperial Majesty, the note will reiterate that all business relating to foreign countries should normally be conducted at Nagasaki. It will also say that the letter has been received here in opposition to the laws of Nippon. Finally it will state that, as this is not a place to negotiate or offer entertainment, the barbarians, having delivered their letter, should leave our shores forthwith.’
‘Those terms sound extremely forthright,’ said the interpreter, staring distractedly at the scarlet chest. ‘Is that the intention?’
‘Yes, that is the deliberate will of the Council of the Shogun,’ said the governor emphatically. ‘You are to convey the sentiments in very firm tones.’
