They came to Yokosé by noon. Buntaro had already intercepted Zataki the previous evening and, as Toranaga had ordered, had welcomed him with great formality. "I asked him to camp outside the village, to the north, Sire, until the meeting place could be prepared," Buntaro said. "The formal meeting's to take place here this afternoon, if it pleases you." He added humorlessly, "I thought the Hour of the Goat would be auspicious."
"Good."
"He wanted to meet you tonight but I overruled that. I told him you'd be 'honored' to meet today or tomorrow, whichever he wished, but not after dark."
Toranaga grunted approval but did not yet dismount from his lathered horse. He wore a breastplate, helmet, and light bamboo armor, like his equally travel-stained escort. Again he looked around carefully. The clearing had been well chosen with no chance for ambush. There were no trees or houses within range that could hide archers or musketeers. Just east of the village the land was flat and somewhat higher. North, west, and south were guarded by the village and by the wooden bridge that spanned the fast-flowing river. Here at the narrows the water was swirling and rock-infested. Eastward, behind him and his weary, sweated riders, the track climbed steeply up the pass to the misted crest, five
"I've men there, there, and there," Buntaro continued, pointing with his bow at all the overlooking outcrops. "You can see for many
"Lord Zataki's there now?"
"No, Sire. I selected an inn for him and his equerries on the outskirts of the village, to the north, worthy of his rank, and invited him to enjoy the baths there. That inn's isolated and secured. I implied you'd be going on to Shuzenji Spa tomorrow and he'd be your guest." Buntaro indicated a neat, single-story inn on the edge of the clearing that faced the best view, near to a hot spring that bubbled from the rock into a natural bath. "That inn's yours, Sire." In front of the inn was a group of men, all on their knees, their heads very low, bowing motionlessly toward them. "They're the headman and village elders. I didn't know if you wanted to see them at once."
"Later." Toranaga's horse neighed wearily and cast its head about, the bridles jingling. He gentled him, and now completely satisfied with the security, he signed to his men and dismounted. One of Buntaro's samurai caught his reins-the samurai, like Buntaro and all of them, armored, battle-armed, and ready.
Toranaga stretched gratefully and limbered up to ease the cramped muscles in his back and legs. He had led the way from Anjiro in a single forced march, stopping only to change mounts. The rest of the baggage train under Omi's command-palanquins and bearers-was still far behind, strung out on the road that came down from the crest. The road from Anjiro had snaked along the coast, then branched. They had taken the west road inland and climbed steadily through luxuriant forests teeming with game, Mount Omura to their right, the peaks of the volcanic Amagi Range on their left soaring almost five thousand feet. The ride had exhilarated him-at last some action! Part of the journey had been through such good hawking country that he promised himself, one day, he would hunt all Izu.
"Good. Yes, very good," he said over the bustle of his men dismounting and chattering and sorting themselves out. "You've done well."
"If you want to honor me, Sire, I beg you to allow me to obliterate Lord Zataki and his men at once."
"He insulted you?"
"No-on the contrary-his manners were worthy of a courtier, but the flag he travels under's a treason against you."
"Patience. How often do I have to tell you?" Toranaga said, not unkindly.
"I'm afraid forever, Sire," Buntaro replied gruffly. "Please excuse me."
"You used to be his friend."
"He used to be your ally."
"He saved your life at Odawara."
"We were on the same side at Odawara," Buntaro said bleakly, then burst out, "How can he do this to you, Sire? Your own brother! Haven't you favored him, fought on the same side-all his life?"
