Shōgun полностью

“That’s true . . . ah, Lord, forgive me. I’m so stupid. I deserve to lose my head! So it was all nonsense, always nonsense. But . . . but what about General Kiyoshio?”

“He said he was guilty of treason. I don’t need treasonous generals, only obedient vassals.”

“But why attack Lord Sudara? Why withdraw your favor from him?”

“Because it pleases me to do so,” Toranaga said harshly.

“Yes. Please excuse me. That’s your sole privilege. I beg you to forgive me for doubting you.”

“Why should I forgive you for being you, old friend? I needed you to do what you did and say what you said. Now I need you more than ever. I must have someone I can trust. That’s why I’m taking you into my confidence. This has got to be secret between us.”

“Oh Sire. You make me so happy. . . .”

“Yes,” Toranaga said. “That’s the only thing I’m afraid of.”

“Sire?”

“You’re commander-in-chief. You alone can neutralize this stupid, brooding mutiny while I’m waiting. I trust you and must trust you. My son can’t hold my generals in check, though he’d never show outward joy at the secret—if he knew it—but your face is the gateway to your soul, old friend.”

“Then let me take my life after I’ve settled the generals.”

“That’s no help. You must hold them together pending my pretended departure, neh? You’ll just have to guard your face and your sleep like never before. You’re the only one in all the world who knows—you’re the only one I must trust, neh?”

“Forgive me for my stupidity. I won’t fail. Explain to me what I must do.”

“Say to my generals what’s true—that you persuaded me to take your advice, which is also theirs, neh? I formally order my departure postponed for seven days. Later I’ll postpone it again. Sickness, this time. You’re the only one to know.”

“Then? Then it will be Crimson Sky?”

“Not as originally planned. Crimson Sky was always a last plan, neh?”

“Yes. What about the Musket Regiment? Could it blast a path through the mountains?”

“Part of the way. But not all the way to Kyoto.”

“Have Zataki assassinated.”

“That might be possible. But Ishido and his allies are still invincible.” Toranaga told him the arguments of Omi, Yabu, Igurashi, and Buntaro the day of the earthquake. “At that time I ordered Crimson Sky as another feint to throw Ishido into confusion . . . and also had the right parts of the discussion whispered into the wrong ears. But the fact is, Ishido’s force is still invincible.”

“How can we split them up? What about Kiyama and Onoshi?”

“No, those two are implacably against me. All the Christians will be against me—except my Christian, and I will soon put him and his ship to very good use. Time is what I need most. I’ve allies and secret friends throughout the Empire and if I have time . . . Every day I gain weakens Ishido further. That’s my battle plan. Every day of delay is important. Listen, after the rains, Ishido will come against the Kwanto, a simultaneous pincer, Ikawa Jikkyu spearheading the south, Zataki in the north. We contain Jikkyu at Mishima, then fall back to the Hakoné Pass and Odawara, where we make our final stand. In the north we’ll hold Zataki fast in the mountains along the Hosho-kaidō Road somewhere near Mikawa. It’s true what Omi and Igurashi said: We can hold off the first attack and there shouldn’t be another great invasion. We fight and we wait behind our mountains. We fight and delay and wait and then when the fruit is ripe for plucking—Crimson Sky.”

“Eeeeee, let that day be soon!”

“Listen, old friend, only you can hold my generals in check. With time and the Kwanto secure, completely secure, we can weather the first attack and then Ishido’s alliances will begin to break up. Once that happens Yaemon’s future is assured and the Taikō’s testament inviolate.”

“You will not take sole power, Sire?”

“For the last time: ‘The law may upset reason but reason may never upset the law, or our whole society will shred like an old tatami. The law may be used to confound reason, reason must certainly not be used to overthrow the law.’ The Taikō’s will is law.”

Hiro-matsu bowed an acceptance. “Very well, Sire. I will never mention it again. Please excuse me. Now—” He let his smile show. “Now, what must I do?”

“Pretend that you’ve persuaded me to delay. Just keep them all in your iron fist.”

“How long must I keep up the pretense?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t trust myself, Sire. I may make a mistake, not meaning to. I think I can keep the joy off my face for a few days. With your permission my ‘aches’ should become so bad that I’ll be confined to bed—no visitors, neh?”

“Good. Do that in four days. Let some of the pain show from today on. That won’t be difficult, neh?”

“No, Sire. So sorry. I’m glad the battle begins this year. Next . . . I may not be able to help.”