"Yes. Since the day of the earthquake, Anjin-san. Please forgive me but I didn't-I didn't want to frighten you. I was afraid you wouldn't understand. Yes, from that day I knew it was my
Then Kiri had arrived and they had had to sit apart but that had not mattered to either of them. A smile or a look or word was enough.
Kiri went over to the slit windows. Out to sea were flecks of light from the inshore fishing boats. "Dawn soon," she said.
"Yes," Mariko said. "I'll get up now."
"Soon. Not yet, Mariko-sama," Kiri told her. "Please rest. You need to gather your strength."
"I wish Lord Toranaga was here."
"Yes."
"Have you prepared another message about… about our leaving?"
"Yes, Mariko-sama, another pigeon will leave with the dawn. Lord Toranaga will hear of your victory today," Kiri said. "He'll be so proud of you."
"I'm so glad he was right."
"Yes," Kiri said. "Please forgive me for doubting you and doubting him."
"In my secret heart I doubted him too. So sorry."
Kiri turned back to the window and looked out over the city. Toranaga's wrong, she wanted to shriek. We'll never leave Osaka, however much we pretend. It's our
In the west wing Yabu stopped at the guardroom. The replacement sentries were ready. "I'm going to make a snap inspection."
"Yes, Sire."
"The rest of you wait for me here. You, come with me."
He went down the main staircase followed by a single guard. At the foot of the staircase in the main foyer were other guards, and outside was the forecourt and garden. A cursory look showed all in order. Then he came back into the fortress, and after a moment, changed direction. To his guard's surprise, he went down the steps into the servants' quarters. The servants dragged themselves out of sleep, hastily putting their heads onto the flagstones. Yabu hardly noticed them. He led the way deeper into the bowels of the fortress, down steps, along little-used arched corridors, the stone sides damp now and mildewed, though well lit. There were no guards here in the cellars for there was nothing to protect. Soon they began to climb again, nearing the outer walls.
Yabu halted suddenly. "What was that?"
The Brown samurai stopped, and listened, and died. Yabu cleaned his sword and pulled the crumpled body into a dark corner, then rushed for a hardly noticed, heavily barred, small iron door set into one of the walls that Ishido's intermediary had told him about. He fought back the rusted bolts. The last one clanged free. The door swung open. A draught of cool air from outside, then a spear stabbed for his throat and stopped just in time. Yabu didn't move, almost paralyzed.
Yabu held up a shaky hand and made a sign as he had been told to do. "I'm Kasigi Yabu," he said.
The black-garbed, hooded, almost invisible leader nodded but kept the spear ready for the lunge. He motioned to Yabu. Yabu obediently backed off a pace. Then, very warily, the leader walked into the center of the corridor. He was tall and heavyset, with wide flat eyes behind his mask. He saw the dead Brown and with a flick of his wrist he sent his spear flashing into the corpse, then retrieved it with the light chain attached to the end. Silently he re-coiled the chain, waiting, listening intently for any danger.
At length satisfied, he motioned at the darkness. Instantly twenty men poured out and rushed for the flight of steps, the long-forgotten back way to the floors above. These men carried assault tools. They were armed with chain knives, swords, and shuriken. And in the center of their black hoods was a red spot.
The leader did not watch them go, but kept his eyes on Yabu and began a slow finger count with his left hand. "One… two… three…" Yabu felt many men watching him from the passage beyond the door. He could see no one.
Now the red-spot attackers were going up the stairs two at a time, and at the top of this flight they stopped. A door barred their path. They waited a moment then cautiously tried to open it. It was stuck. A man with an assault tool, a short steel bar, hooked at one end and chiseled at the other, came forward and jimmied it open. Beyond was another mildewed passage and they hurried along it silently. At the next corner they stopped. The first man peered around, then beckoned the others into another corridor. At the far end a sliver of light shone through a spyhole in the heavy wooden paneling that covered this secret door. He put an eye to it. He could see the breadth of the audience chamber, two Browns and two Grays wearily on sentry duty, guarding the door to the complex of quarters. He looked around, nodded to the others. One of the men was still counting with his fingers, timed to the leader's count two floors below. All their eyes went to the count.
