“So sorry, but your head’s in the clouds. He’s decided. Our Lord’s decided—it’s Osaka and nothing else! Hey, Yabu-sama, when did you get here?”
“Yesterday. I’ve been stuck at a filthy little fishing village called Yokohama for more than two weeks, south of here, with my troops. The port’s fine but the bugs! Stinking mosquitoes and bugs—they were never so bad in Izu.”
“You’re up to date with all the news?”
“You mean all the bad news? The move’s still in six days,
“Yes, terrible. Shameful!”
“True, but tonight’s worse,” another general said grimly. “I’ve never been without swords before. Never.”
“It’s an insult,” Yabu said deliberately. All those nearby looked at him.
“I agree,” General Kiyoshio replied, breaking the silence. Serata Kiyoshio was the grizzled, tough Commander of the Seventh Army. “I’ve never been without swords in public before. Makes me feel like a stinking merchant! I think . . . eeeeee, orders are orders but some orders should not be given.”
“That’s quite right,” someone said. “What would old Iron Fist have done if he’d been here?”
“He’d have slit his belly before he gave up his swords! He’d have done it tonight in the forecourt!” a young man said. He was Serata Tomo, the general’s eldest son, second-in-command of the Fourth Army. “I wish Iron Fist were here! He could get sense . . . he’d have slit his belly first.”
“I considered it.” General Kiyoshio cleared his throat harshly. “Someone has to be responsible—and do his duty! Someone has to make the point that liege lord means responsibility and duty!”
“So sorry, but you’d better watch your tongue,” Yabu advised.
“What’s the use of a tongue in a samurai’s mouth if he’s forbidden to be samurai?”
“None,” Isamu, an old counselor, replied. “I agree. Better to be dead.”
“So sorry, Isamu-san, but that’s our immediate future anyway,” the young Serata Tomo said. “We’re staked pigeons to a certain dishonored hawk!”
“Please hold your tongues!” Yabu said, hiding his own satisfaction. Then he added carefully, “He’s our liege lord and until Lord Sudara or the Council takes open responsibility he stays liege lord and he is to be obeyed.
General Kiyoshio studied him, his hand unconsciously feeling for his sword hilt. “What have you heard, Yabu-sama?”
“Nothing.”
“Buntaro-san said that—” the counselor began.
General Kiyoshio interrupted thinly. “Please excuse me, Isamu-san, but what General Buntaro said or what he didn’t say is unimportant. What Yabu-sama says is true. A liege lord is a liege lord. Even so, a samurai has rights, a vassal has rights. Even
Yabu looked back at him, gauging the depth of that invitation. “Izu is Lord Toranaga’s province. I’m no longer
“Except Lord Noboru,” a general said, mentioning Toranaga’s eldest son, who was universally loathed.
“Yes. Just as well. Never mind, General, the Chinese sickness’ll finish him soon and we’ll be done with his foul humor forever,” someone said.
“And stench.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“Who knows? We don’t even know why Toranaga-sama sent him north. Better he stays there,
“If you had that sickness, you’d be as foul-humored as he is,
“Yes, Yabu-san. Yes, I would. Pity he’s poxed, he’s a good general—better than the Cold Fish,” General Kiyoshio added, using Sudara’s private nickname.
“Eeeee,” the counselor whistled. “There’re devils in the air tonight to make you so careless with your tongue. Or is it saké?”
“Perhaps it’s the Chinese sickness,” General Kiyoshio replied with a bitter laugh.
“Buddha protect me from that!” Yabu said. “If only Lord Toranaga would change his mind about Osaka!”
“I’d slit my belly now if that’d convince him,” the young man said.
“No offense, my son, but your head’s in the clouds. He’ll never change.”
“Yes, Father. But I just don’t understand him. . . .”
“We’re all to go with him? In the same contingent?” Yabu asked after a moment.
Isamu, the old counselor, said, “Yes. We’re to go as an escort. With two thousand men with full ceremonial equipment and trappings. It’ll take us thirty days to get there. We’ve six days left.”
General Kiyoshio said, “That’s not much time. Is it, Yabu-sama?”
Yabu did not reply. There was no need. The general did not require an answer. They settled into their own thoughts.
A side door opened. Toranaga came in. Sudara followed. Everyone bowed stiffly. Toranaga bowed back and sat facing them, Sudara as heir presumptive slightly in front of him, also facing the others. Naga came in from the main door and closed it.
Only Toranaga wore swords.
“It’s been reported that some of you speak treason, think treason, and plan treason,” he said coldly. No one answered or moved. Slowly, relentlessly, Toranaga looked from face to face.
Still no movement. Then General Kiyoshio spoke. “May I respectfully ask, Sire, what do you mean by ‘treason’?”
