The next task was somewhat messier. Skirting the pool of blood that had poured from Ieyasu’s severed neck and his punctured body, Cadillac tipped the heads of Watanabe and Mashimatsu out of their string bags and collected the head of Ieyasu.
With this grisly task completed, he relieved the lieutenant of his sword, took the radio from Roz and ran through the intervening rooms into the bed-chamber. Releasing the catch on the hidden door, he carried the radio and the head bag into the secret passage beyond then returned sword in hand, leaving the door closed but with the catch open.
Running back to the study, he found Roz had backed into the doorway, ready to make a fast exit. Beyond her, the soldiers and their captives were still on the floor with most of them curled up into a foetal position, their arms wrapped round their heads.
‘Okay! Let’s go!’ He spun Roz around and pushed her ahead of him. ‘C’mon! Move, move, move!’
‘What’s with the sword?’ gasped Roz, as they reached the door and slithered through. ‘Mind-magic not good enough?’
‘This is just for emergencies.’ His face twisted angrily as he slammed an open palm against the wall. ‘Oh, shit! I forgot to bring a lantern!’
‘That’s okay. I left one here under the bottom step when we came to plant the bug. And a flint lighter.’
Cadillac pulled the secret door shut and slipped the inside catch into place. ‘You’re a genius.’
‘I’m glad one of us is.’ Roz felt her way down the steps, retrieved the hidden lantern, lit the oiled wick and trimmed the flame. Looking up, she saw Cadillac with the radio in one hand and the head bag in the other. ‘Did you have to bring him along?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the other bag – is that for the Shogun?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘That’s what you said when I suggested rowing sixteen miles in a crowded long-boat. I know what I’m doing, Roz, so don’t argue. We came here to do a job, and the only way to prove we’ve done it is by handing the heads of Yoritomo and Ieyasu over to the Yama-Shita. They’re not going to start a war just on our say-so!’
‘No, you’re right.’ She raised the lantern. ‘Where do we go from here?’
Back in the study, the soldiers and captives had started to come round soon after Roz had broken her hold on their minds but they were not able to leap immediately into action. The crippling head pains had gone, leaving them with the dying residue of a monster hang-over and troubled vision. The after-effect on their eyesight was similar to having a series of flash-bulbs popping off in your face and it took a few moments to clear.
Some people recovered faster than others, notably Ichiwara and four of Ieyasu’s personal guard. Driven by the basic instinct for self-preservation they were on their feet and heading for the exit while everyone else was trying to haul themselves off the floor.
The soldiers fell on the remaining pair of Ieyasu’s guards and disarmed them before any more damage could be done. Seizing one of their long-swords to replace his own, the distraught lieutenant sent several of his men in pursuit of the fleeing prisoners, and despatched six more as ordered to the North Tower.
The Shogun had summoned Captain Kamakura to ask him whether, in the light of Mashimatsu’s involvement in the attempt to kill his sister and her children, the company of soldiers under his command could be trusted to remain loyal. ‘If you consider the conversation we overheard,’ said Yoritomo, ‘it’s clear that several men were involved.’
‘That’s true, sire. But if they were soidiers from the Palace Guard, I do not believe they would have known who the target was. In fact, there was every reason not to tell them.’
‘True … But if we are to secure the Palace and rout out the rest of the scum in Ieyasu’s employ, we need to know who is with us and who is against us.’
With so many of Lord Ieyasu’s place-men on the resident staff of the Palace, it was a difficult question to answer. In Kamakura’s book, the rank and file soldiers were simple, honest fellows with no interest in, or understanding of, political intrigue. That only afflicted the higher ranks who saw the chance of preferment and privilege by backing one camp against another, and the opportunists within the Inner Court whose empty lives left them with little else to do.
The men could be counted upon to follow orders, but their subsequent conduct would depend on who took command and the reasons that were given for doing so. At the moment, No.2 Company did not even know Mashimatsu had been beheaded.
Once again the gods were with him. Just as he was about to reply, the Shogun’s guards admitted the breathless lieutenant who fell to his knees and broke the news that Secretary Ichiwara, four of Ieyasu’s guards and the two painted long-dogs had escaped from custody.
‘We were blinded by a brilliant light that robbed us of our senses! It pierced our skulls like red hot skewers! No one could withstand it! We fell like dead men to the ground. When the light vanished and we found our feet again, Ichiwara and the others were gone!’
‘By the gods!’ cried Yoritomo. ‘Do they threaten us with yet more of their devilish devices?’ He turned to Kamakura. ‘Could the envoys from the Federation have had a hand in this?’
‘I cannot say, sire. I only learned of their presence from the Lord Chamberlain’s conversation. Their reception was handled by his staff and kept secret from everyone else.’ He glared down at the hapless lieutenant. ‘Did you send men to arrest them as I ordered?’
‘Y-Yes, sir!’
Yoritomo cut in. ‘Then sound a General Alert! The traitor Ichiwara and others whom you allowed to escape must be recaptured before they can rouse their friends and resist us! Are the gates sealed?’
Kamakura clicked his heels as he stiffened to attention. ‘Yes, sire! And you can rely on the men from the 3rd and 4th Company, as well as my own!’
‘Perhaps the 2nd Company too,’ said Yoritomo. ‘If Ichiwara evades us, it will not be long before word reaches them that the Lord Chamberlain, his Chief Secretary and their commander have paid the penalty for trying to usurp my power. These soldiers are not stupid. They are bound to realise that any sign of disaffection would be pointless.’ He laughed. ‘With Ieyasu dead, who is there to serve other than me?’
Kamakura bowed his head. ‘No one, sire.’
‘Exactly! And that is what I shall tell them.’ He extended his hand to Mishiko. ‘Come, sister. The Captain and I will escort you to your quarters.’
This was not at all what Lady Mishiko wanted. She fell on her knees before the Shogun and clutched the front of his dark, richly embroidered kimono. Kamakura and everyone else backed away politely and bowed their heads. By the convoluted rules of Iron Master etiquette, they were now deemed to be invisible and deaf to what passed between Yoritomo and Mishiko.
‘My Lord! Dearest brother! If you love me, let me stay in your quarters for the rest of this dreadful night! Lord Ieyasu ruled over a secret world of shadows and you may be sure that this palace has its share of spies and assassins. When they hear that I denounced their master they will seek revenge. I will not be safe until every one of them is under lock and key!’
‘Then I will place guards outside your bed-chamber,’ said Yoritomo. He took hold of her hands and pulled her gently to her feet. ‘You shall have as many as you wish. You shall have protection night and day for as long as you desire it.’
Mishiko shook her head. ‘No! No! You will need every man you can spare to arrest the traitors within these walls!’ She dropped her voice to an urgent whisper. ‘Let me lie in your shadow. Your love is all the protection I need.…’
‘Mishiko! There is so much to do! I must send word to our family, telling them of Ieyasu’s treachery. His placemen will have to be removed from the government, but with so many of them holding key positions it will cause absolute chaos.’
‘Then don’t do it. At least not yet. News of Ieyasu’s death, the details of how and why he died, need not pass beyond the Palace walls. Time is on your side. In the c
oming days, when your head is cooler, you will find ways to profit by what has happened.
‘No one need know the truth. He was an old man whose lustful appetite never waned. If we announce he was sucked to death by one of his little strumpets, no one at court will raise an eyebrow.’ Mishiko lifted both hands from his chest and caressed his face and neck. ‘I could wish for no better fate than to meet a sweet death in your arms.’
‘Sweet death’ was the courtly euphemism for an orgasm. Yoritomo felt his heartbeat quicken as her nearness brought back the memories of their secret couplings. The killing of his great-uncle and the realisation that he was at last master of his own destiny had made him feel quite bullish. He could do anything!
‘Very well. Wait here. I will arrange to have your children and their nurse sent to you. My servants can make up beds in one of the other rooms.’
‘Send Oyoki too,’ whispered Mishiko. ‘I shall need her help to prepare myself.’
Yoritomo clasped her hands tightly in his arms. ‘Be patient. I will return as soon as I have made certain that the Palace is in our hands.’
Entering the Shogun’s bed-chamber, Mishiko caught a fleeting glimpse of two shadowy figures which vanished as an icy hand seemed to clutch her brain. Recognising the presence of magic, she dismissed the servants whom Yoritomo had ordered to wait on her, and asked not to be disturbed until her brother returned.
As the servants withdrew, Roz released the mind-lock she had placed on them all. To Mishiko, the two hooded white-masked witches appeared to materialise out of thin air, but their previous invisibility was only a trick of the mind. Roz’s mesmeric power enabled her to create optical illusions. It is a well known fact that the brain sees what it thinks it sees, not what is actually there and this was the phenomenon that Roz exploited. Mishiko and the servants had seen her and Cadillac, but were persuaded to delete that piece of visual information from their mental picture of the room and fill in the resulting gaps using data from their memory banks.
‘You have done well, mi’lady,’ husked Cadillac. ‘The prize is within your grasp, but we remain close at hand in case you have need of us.’
Roz took control of Mishiko’s mind and conjured up an image of the Herald. In three strides he had crossed the room and gathered Mishiko into his arms. His face was still pale but it was no longer grey and haggard. His eyes were clear and his voice stronger. ‘Can you see how the death of Ieyasu has given me new hope and strength? We are but one step from eternal happiness in each other’s arms!’
Rooted to the spot, her eyes closed, Mishiko lifted her face to the invisible Herald. In her mind’s eye, her body was crushed against his in a passionate embrace. She could feel, with dreamlike intensity, the soft moist texture of his lips on hers, the warmth of his cheek against her face, the muscled strength of his arms and the heat in his loins.
Cadillac sidled up to Roz and whispered: ‘Okay, I’ve planted the bug. Is she gonna go through with it?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Roz, her voice breaking. ‘Don’t worry. She’s not going to let anything stop her now.’ She backed towards the false beam and followed Cadillac through into the passage before releasing her mental grip on Mishiko.
Whispering a declaration of undying love, the Herald stepped back and vanished. Mishiko found herself standing in an empty room, with her arms stretched out in front of her. She could still feel the lines traced over her hands by his fingers as he slipped from her grasp. Wrapping her arms around her ribs, Mishiko fell to her knees on the mattress bed and rocked slowly back and forth, nursing the unbearable pain of separation. Soon, my love! Soon …!
Roz and Cadillac sat sideways on the narrow set of steps that led up to the secret doorway into the Shogun’s bed-chamber with their backs against the same wall. The lamp, its wick trimmed to conserve the precious oil, stood on the floor of the passageway below. The dim light did not reach all the way up the stairs – an arrangement which suited Roz because it meant that Ieyasu’s head-bag was lost in the shadows. Her elbow was parked on the same step as Cadillac’s feet and between them was the radio, tuned to the listening bug he had placed under the small black lacquered table. If all went well, it would broadcast the sounds of death and its aftermath sometime between now and dawn, and would help them gauge when it was safe to enter to obtain the final piece of evidence they needed.
Cadillac sensed that Roz was deeply troubled by the trail of violence she had helped to unleash and the knowledge that the blood-letting had barely begun. He reached down and tried to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. It felt hard and unwelcoming.
‘Roz, listen – I know what this is doing to you. But now we’ve started, we have to see it through. Just remember this woman is no different from the rest of them. These people are merciless. If she didn’t want vengeance, we couldn’t have made her do this.’
Roz averted her face. ‘Good. That makes me feel a whole lot better.’ She drew a finger across both cheeks to dry them. ‘You don’t seem to have grasped she’s not just driven by hate. Mishiko’s about to kill herself because of her love for a dead man. She can’t bear to live without him.’
To Cadillac, this all sounded depressingly familiar. He sighed wearily and received an unexpectedly painful punch in the thigh. ‘Owww!!’
‘Don’t try and yawn this one off, you bastard! Have you any idea what that means – to love someone that much? The one worthwhile emotion in this world and what have we done? Exploited it for our own ends in the cruellest of deceptions. We pushed her into this by building up her hopes and what’s she going to end up with? Nothing! You may find that a big joke, but it makes me feel sick inside.’
Cadillac rubbed his thigh and prepared to ward off another punch. ‘At least she’ll die happy. Disappointment is an emotion you can only suffer from when you’re alive.’
‘It must feel good to have a pat answer to everything.’ She brushed away his hand as it reached out for her shoulder again.
‘This is the wrong time for us to fall out, Roz. I know what love is, and I know what we’ve done and why. If you still think I’m the bad guy by the time we get home take it out on me then. Meanwhile we’ve got work to do.’
‘Sure,’ she sniffed. ‘Just blowing off steam. Don’t worry. The doctor will still be on call.’
Cadillac decided it would be wiser not to respond. That was the trouble with words. They could always be twisted around to give them a meaning you never intended. Once uttered, words could never be un-said – and no amount of apologising could ever erase them from the mind. ‘Could you pass me up the lamp? I’d like to take another look at this alternative escape route Mishiko sketched out for us.’
Roz handed him the lamp without a word. The fate of Lady Mishiko and her children was not the only thing troubling her. Roz now knew, without any shadow of doubt, that Steve was in the Summer Palace. The shock of his arrest and the rough treatment meted out by his captors had triggered a clean contact. The mind-bridge was open again.
Steve’s companion was a woman – and with that image had come the feeling of power. She was a member of the First Family. Someone close to the President-General – someone whom Roz had never met but who knew her almost as well as she knew herself.
Cadillac had floated the idea of capturing the envoys and trading them for Clearwater and her child, but since their argument in the hot tub he hadn’t said anything further. And with the envoys now in the slammer, he had probably decided it was one problem too many. If so, he would have to think again because Rozalynn Roosevelt Brickman wasn’t leaving without her kin-brother.…
The dungeons of the Summer Palace were situated below the main courtyard. A square, raised stone structure with heavy iron grilles in the side which served as a kind of clerestory, surmounted a vertical shaft that ran from top to bottom of the subterranean cell-block and provided the only natural light to reach into the passages running off it.
The cells nearest the shaft were provided with some light and ventilation; those at the
far end of the passageways remained shrouded in gloom during the day. The air was stale and fetid, and at night the pitch darkness was only relieved by the occasional glow of a lamp carried by a patrolling prison warder.
It was in one of these less favoured units on the second floor down that Steve and Fran now found themselves, after being hauled out of bed by six frenzied armed men who had pushed them around and yelled abuse in their faces as they complied with the order to dress. The trail bags with their hidden radio packs had then been rammed against their chests and they were given a few more seconds to pack the rest of their belongings before being hustled down a bewildering maze of passageways into a foul-smelling Japanese underworld.
There was no point in protesting. Steve knew when these guys were hyped up anything could happen and it was likely to be very unpleasant. That didn’t stop Fran trying, but before she’d uttered three words, she had been silenced by a rain of blows to her head and back delivered by the soldiers behind her. Steve got it in the neck too, just for being there. The nightmare journey had ended in a dank corridor with a cell-door being slammed shut behind them as they were sent sprawling on their faces in a bed of straw that reeked of urine and human excrement.
Having been raised in the Federation, neither of them felt claustrophobic, but the sudden transition from relative luxury to a dark, stinking cell had left them feeling totally disoriented. No one had offered a word of explanation, but it was obvious something had gone badly wrong. A major upset in which they were deemed to be implicated. This was definitely not a fun place. The clammy stone walls smelt as if they were coated with blood, sweat and fear.
Steve was alarmed at the sudden downturn in their fortunes, but he wasn’t frightened. For in the same instant as he collided with the floor, the wall he had built around his mind blew apart, allowing Roz to enter.
The telepathic bond between them was like a video-phone line down which he could send words and pictures. But for Steve that was where it ended. Roz had the uncanny ability to search him out with her mind and locate his position with the aid of a map. And because Steve had been the only one, so far, to have suffered serious injury, the mysterious process by which her body produced replicate wounds appeared to be another unique attribute.
Earth-Thunder Page 32
