They were not the only prizes. Another member of the Palace Guard held a string bag in each hand. They contained the severed heads of Watanabe, Ieyasu’s Principal Private Secretary, and Samurai-Captain Mashimatsu.
‘You have betrayed us, Ichiwara,’ said Yoritomo, in a voice stripped of all emotion. ‘You, your master, and all who serve him have sold your souls in the hope of gaining power over me.’
Ichiwara fell to his knees and hung his head. Nothing he could say would save him. With Watanabe gone, all was lost. Death, when it came, would be a welcome release.
‘For such a crime,’ continued Yoritomo, ‘your life cannot be spared, but you can, at least, expect an honourable death if you will answer me truthfully. How long has your master been served by these infernal devices?’
‘Many years, sire.’
‘And how were they obtained?’
Silence.
‘Must we tear your flesh with red-hot irons? Pluck out your eyes and roast them slowly on their stalks?’
‘By … by a … secret treaty with the Federation, sire.’
‘And who signed this treaty – your master?’
‘I cannot say, sire – because I do not know. Only Watanabe and the Lord Chamberlain met with those who rule the Federation!’
‘How convenient. For as you see, Watanabe lost his head in attempting to escape retribution. Never mind, I am sure ways can be found to prompt your memory.’ Yoritomo turned to Captain Kamakura. ‘Have this wretch searched and stripped of any means to kill himself. He is to be secured in irons and thrown into a cell.’
Two guards seized Ichiwara and pinioned his arms behind his back as they hauled him to his feet.
‘Sire!’ he cried. ‘I do not seek to save my life, but I beg you to believe that in doing what we did, we had but one goal – to safeguard your life, preserve your family and the future of the nation!’
Yoritomo’s anger burst through. ‘Ignoble dog! You sought to preserve the power of the Chamberlain’s Office and the baleful influence of your master! You and the other jackals who serve him have conspired to thwart my will from the very beginning! And for this lie you will all suffer the most painful death that can be devised! Get him out of my sight!’
The luckless Ichiwara was bundled out of the room.
Ieyasu’s guards backed slowly into his official apartments as Yoritomo’s party advanced. The Chamberlain emerged from his private study and took in the sea of faces. His eyes gave nothing away as they alighted on Lady Mishiko and the two captive Mutes.
The radio hanging from the strap around the neck of the taller Mute told him all he needed to know. But he was not beaten yet.
‘Ahh, sire! How extraordinary! I was on my way to advise you of your sister’s unexpected arrival, but I see she has forestalled me.’ Ieyasu bowed respectfully to Mishiko then pointed to Cadillac and Roz who had been forced to their knees. ‘Why have these two grubby animals been brought before me?’
‘They are here,’ said Yoritomo, ‘because they have an interesting tale to tell.’
‘Since when has the word of a grass-monkey been worth more than the spittle on the lips of an Iron Master?’
‘They are not grass-monkeys, mi’lord,’ said Mishiko. ‘These are the long-dogs I told you about.’
‘You brought them here? Then I was right! You and Min-Orota are in league with the Yama-Shita!’
‘No, you are wrong, mi’lord. Kiyo Min-Orota stole these dogs from under the noses of the Yama-Shita to prevent them from being used to destroy the authority and honour of the Toh-Yota.’
‘If that was his reason, why bring them here?!’ thundered Ieyasu. ‘Why did he not kill them?!’
‘Isn’t it obvious?!’ cried Yoritomo. ‘Bringing them here was the only way of rooting out the cancer which has been eating away at the body of the Toh-Yota! The cancer which is the source of the weakness our enemies are so eager to exploit! And that cancer is you, great uncle! Your place-men, your servants, your army of spies who are in thrall to the Dark Light! This evil growth is your creation! You, whom I relied upon to uphold the rule of law and maintain our most cherished traditions, have betrayed everything we hold dear!’
Ieyasu, unbowed by these accusations, responded with a dry laugh. ‘In thrall to the Dark Light?! What nonsense is this? You condemn me on the word of this treacherous harlot?! Are you so blind you cannot see the thrust of this game? She is a pawn of the Yama-Shita, and her motive is revenge because you and I took away her plaything – the Herald Hase-Gawa!’
Yoritomo did not waver. ‘You are wrong, great-uncle. You stand condemned by your own words. The devices that you used to extend your own power over me and this country have betrayed you!’ He turned to the guards standing over Cadillac and Roz. ‘Free the long-dog’s hands! Let him make the box speak!’
Ieyasu’s face turned a paler shade of grey.
Using the counter as a guide, Cadillac rewound the LP tape to a certain point, set the transceiver down on the floor, pressed the ‘Play’ button and turned up the volume.
Everyone apart from Cadillac and Roz listened in awed silence as the disembodied voice of Samurai-Captain Mashimatsu issued from the box, followed by Ieyasu then Watanabe.
‘… There were a handful of survivors – crewmen who were asleep in the forward part of the vessel when the explosion occurred – but no trace had been found of the twenty or so passengers believed to have been on board at the time.’
‘Good fortune smiles upon us, Captain. We were warned that a team of assassins sent by the Yama-Shita might attempt to land from just such a vessel. It looks as if they have blown themselves up while preparing explosive devices which they obviously intended to use against us.
‘Make sure all the bodies are brought out of the water, and search the outer islands in case there are survivors hiding there. No one must be allowed to escape justice. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, sire.’
‘See that the men are rewarded. And you shall have your long-awaited promotion. I shall not of course tell the Shogun the real reason for the glowing recommendation I will make on your behalf.’
‘To be able to serve you is honour enough, sire. Your generosity overwhelms me.’
Sounds of movement, the rustle of robes and the noise of door screens being slid aside. Stockinged feet walked across straw matting then Ichiwara’s voice –
‘What are we to say when the lady and her children are reported as missing from the Winter Palace?’
‘We say nothing, Watanabe! We simply look as puzzled as everyone else! In time it will be discovered that she and the traitor Min-Orota boarded two ships at Oshana – bound for an unknown destination: Questions will have to be asked. We must pursue the matter with our usual zeal, but her fate will remain shrouded in mystery. It will be a sad loss to our family, as you can imagine – and I fear her brother will feel it more keenly than most.’
A dry laugh.
‘We will have to find a –’
Cadillac stopped the tape as the Shogun sliced the air with his right hand, then pointed down at the transceiver.
‘It is all here, great-uncle. Every word you have uttered today – to the moment when you ordered your faithful secretary Ichiwara to destroy the contents of the “box-room”.’
Yoritomo indicated the kneeling figures of Cadillac and Roz. ‘But thanks to these long-dogs, we had already found it and were waiting for his visit. He has already told us a great deal and will no doubt be persuaded to tell us more before suffering the fate of these two –’
Yoritomo stepped aside, revealing the soldier with the two string bags who had been standing among the guards clustered behind him. Responding to his signal, the soldier walked forward, bowed to Ieyasu and laid the bags containing the heads of Watanabe and Mashimatsu at his feet.
Ieyasu looked down at them, unmoved, then faced Yoritomo with a defiant, straight-backed stare.
‘It is not my sister who plots against me, but you, great-uncle. This box h
olds the proof in your own words! Proof that you tried and failed to kill my sister – and planned to rid yourself of her for a second time – tonight!’ Yoritomo levelled an accusing finger at Ieyasu. ‘Seize him!’
The hands of Ieyasu’s bodyguard flew to the hilts of their swords as they formed a protective screen in front of him – a gesture matched with equal speed by the Shogun’s men. But neither side drew their deadly blades. Ieyasu’s guards were torn between defending their master and obeying the Shogun. As the ultimate ruler of Ne-Issan, he commanded their higher obedience; to disobey him meant certain death, but Ieyasu’s reputation and the aura of power he radiated was so awesome, he was able to stare his would-be captors down. No one dared make the first move against him.
‘By the Gods!’ cried Yoritomo. ‘You will pay for this, you spineless rabble!’ He turned to Captain Kamakura – the only man whose blade was half out of his scabbard. ‘Give me your sword!’
Kamakura, his face blanched with shame, dropped down on one knee and placed the hilt of the sword in the Shogun’s out-stretched hand.
Yoritomo cut the air with two or three classic sword strokes to get the feel of it then advanced on Ieyasu’s bodyguard. ‘Stand aside!’ he thundered. Ieyasu’s guards ceded to his authority with a bow and backed off. His own men took a menacing pace forward.
Everyone held their breath as the Shogun came face to face with the Lord Chamberlain. Nephew and granduncle. Ieyasu, who was the taller of the two, looked at Yoritomo with mocking disdain. The way one might eye a particularly tiresome child whose demands could not be taken seriously.
‘Have you taken leave of your senses? Can’t you see this is a plot hatched by our enemies to discredit me?’ Ieyasu pointed to Lady Mishiko. ‘Give me her for an hour and you will hear from her own lips the names of those who have conspired to bring me down!’
His words failed to sway Yoritomo. ‘There is no plot – other than the one you and Watanabe hatched with the masters of these long-dogs! Ichiwara had told me of the secret treaty which enabled you to secure these devilish devices! For years you have deceived me and corrupted the soul of the nation!’
Ieyasu responded with a contemptuous laugh. ‘You foolish boy! The whole world is built on deceit and corruption! But I have harnessed the venal appetites and duplicity that surrounds us to a noble purpose – a nation at peace under the flag of the Toh-Yota! There is only one principle I cleave to – the maintenance of power – by any means! For without power, all your lofty principles and moral posturings are worthless! Strong governments survive, the weak fall to the sword.
‘Of course I have lied and cheated! I have stopped at nothing to ensure our family continues to rule this land. Our enemies know me for what I am. That is why they fear me. They may bow to you, but privately they mock you because they know that behind your monkish habits and your pious air of self-denial is a flawed human being inflamed by unnatural desires! Truly a son fit for his father’s shoes!’
Enraged by Ieyasu’s public denunciation and mortified with shame, Yoritomo raised the sword and adopted a threatening posture.
‘Go on!’ urged Ieyasu fearlessly. ‘Strike! Show us you are fit to lead this nation into war – for that is what will follow as soon as you have dispensed with me!’
The trembling blade remained poised as Yoritomo tried vainly to steady his shaking hands. The suspense became unbearable. Most of those watching thought the Shogun would throw down the sword, but Kamakura knew the blow would fall. Failure to act would have resulted in irretrievable loss of face. Ieyasu had goaded the young Shogun beyond endurance, and the old fox had done so deliberately in order to avoid a slower and more agonising death by torture. Traditionally a public spectacle, it was, for a nobleman, the ultimate humiliation.
Ieyasu grasped his long staff in both hands and raised it threateningly –
The blade flashed forward, piercing him through the abdomen. Once. Twice. The Chamberlain gasped, but did not cry out. He sank slowly to his knees, clutching the wounds. Blood gushed out between his fingers. ‘You fool!’ he croaked. ‘You blind fool! You have thrown everything away. It is not me you should have killed … it is these … worthless … creatures that … surround you!’
His last words fell on deaf ears. Yoritomo handed the blood-stained sword back to Kamakura. ‘Behead him.…’
The Guard Captain did so with one swift, precisely-aimed stroke as the dying Chamberlain toppled forward.
Yoritomo stared down at the severed head of his mentor then kicked it aside as he led Lady Mishiko out of the room. Two of his bodyguards ran ahead of him and slid the door-panels aside. As he passed through, Yoritomo turned back.
Everyone bowed.
‘Captain Kamakura!’
‘Sire …?’
‘These rooms are to be sealed and guarded until a thorough search for incriminating documents can be organised.’
‘Yes, sire!’
‘All members of the Lord Chamberlain’s staff, from those who hold high office to the lowest of his servants, his appointees within the palace, his gaming cronies and female procurers are to be arrested, put in chains, and placed in close confinement. I want them all under lock and key before dawn.’
Yoritomo pointed to Ieyasu’s crestfallen bodyguard. ‘And you can start with these insolent swine! Is that understood?’
‘Perfectly!’
‘Good. Report to me when it is done.’
‘And the long-dog envoys, sire?’
‘Seize them too! We will show their masters what happens to those who seek to enslave us with the Dark Light! And throw this pair in with them!’
Roz and Cadillac looked at each other in dismay as their arms were seized by four of Kamakura’s men. Being tossed in the slammer had not been part of the plan.…
Chapter Twelve
Surrounded by his bodyguard and a dozen soldiers from the Shield Unit, the Shogun and Lady Mishiko swept out of the dead Chamberlain’s apartments, leaving Captain Kamakura and twenty of his men to carry out his orders. Kamakura, shocked by the speed of events, found himself in something of a dilemma. Jailing Secretary Ichiwara and Ieyasu’s six guards was a simple, straightforward matter, likewise the seizure of the envoys in the North Tower. They might protest, but would offer no resistance – but how was he to deal with the two spirit-witches whom the Shogun had taken to be painted long-dogs!
When they had removed their masks in Lady Mishiko’s audience chamber, he had seen their gnarled grey faces change shape and colour – becoming smooth-boned grass-monkeys in the twinkling of an eye! It was widely believed they could turn ordinary mortals who offended them into all manner of birds, animals and insects. Kamakura had no wish to anger them but when the Shogun gave an order, he had to obey. What on earth, he asked himself, was he to do?
Lady Mishiko had not told him what was to happen after they had played their part in exposing Lord Ieyasu’s treachery, but he could not believe she intended them to be locked in a prison cell!
Kamakura clasped his hands behind his back and wandered back and forth in front of the witches, hoping for a look or a word that would resolve his dilemma. Neither was forthcoming. Forced down on their knees by the pressure on their arms, they hung their heads like the other prisoners whose plight they shared.
Aware that his men were looking at him expectantly, Kamakura came to a decision. The witches were protected by powerful magic. They would free themselves at a moment of their own choosing, and in a way which would not cast doubt on Lady Mishiko’s role in this affair. Or his own. All well and good – but when it happened, how was he going to explain the loss of two important prisoners?
Just as Kamakura was about to issue the order to have the prisoners taken away, one of the Shogun’s bodyguards appeared in the doorway.
‘Captain! You are required to attend the Shogun!’
Kamakura clicked his heels to acknowledge the summons. The gods were with him. With a bit of luck, the spirit-witches might disappear while in someone else’s
custody. He turned to the junior officer who had been placed in charge of Ichiwara. ‘Carry on in my absence, lieutenant! Send six men to pick up the long-dogs from the North Tower, and convey them and these swine to the dungeons!’
His departure, combined with the lieutenant’s assumption of command and despatch of six men to arrest the two Tracker envoys, led to a great deal of heel-clicking and foot-pounding, which allowed Cadillac to pass a whispered message to Roz.
‘Time to go – by the back door – need a minute to pick up a few things without anyone seeing – so put these guys out of action – and do it now!’
One of the guards holding his arms brought his knee round and slammed it into the side of Cadillac’s head. ‘Shut your mouth!’
The jarring blow inflicted by his knee was nothing compared to the sharp jagged pain that shot through the guard’s own skull from ear to ear as the room exploded in a dazzling burst of white light. He let go of Cadillac and clutched at his head, but even with his eyes closed and covered, he could not shut out the light that was burning into his brain.
Nor could the other soldiers and their captives. Crippled by the agony and blinded by the light and with their vocal chords paralysed by the pain, they stumbled into each other then fell to the floor clutching their tortured skulls and screaming soundlessly.
The mind-warp Roz had produced was so powerful Cadillac could not stop it invading his own brain. Fortunately, the mental rapport they had developed enabled him to ‘tune out’ much of the unpleasantness but it still left with him a king-sized headache. A shimmering white haze filled the room, blurring the outlines of people and objects, and bleaching out nearly all the colour.
Screwing up his eyes against the light, he gave Roz’s arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’re amazing. Here, take the radio! Unlock the door to the secret passage and get ready to go through!’
‘I can’t! I have to stay here where I can keep a visual fix on these guys. That’s how it works!’
‘Okay, I’ll do it. But when I call, get there fast!’ Picking up the hem of his kimono, he stepped quickly over the bodies in his path and recovered the hidden listening device.
Earth-Thunder Page 31
