Gyoko and maids had been waiting ceremoniously at the gate of the Tea House to greet them.
"This is Gyoko-san, she's the Mama-san here."
"So honored, Anjin-san, so honored."
"Mama-san? You mean mama? Mother? That's the same in English, Mariko-san. Mama - mommy- mother."
"Oh! It's almost the same, but, so sorry, 'mama-san' just means 'stepmother' or 'foster parent,' Anjin-san. Mother is 'haha-san' or 'oba-san.' " In a moment Gyoko excused herself and hurried away. Blackthorne smiled at Mariko. She had been like a child, gazing at everything. "Oh, Anjin-san, I've always wanted to see the inside of one of these places. Men are so very lucky! Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it marvelous, even in a tiny village? Gyoko-san must have had it refurbished completely by master craftsmen! Look at the quality of the woods and - oh, you're so kind to allow me to be with you. I'll never have another opportunity . . . look at the flowers . . . what an exquisite arrangement . . . and oh, look out into the garden . . . ."
Blackthorne was very glad and very sorry that a maid was in the room and the shoji door open, for even here in a tea house it would be unthinkable and lethal for Mariko to be alone with him in a room.
"Thou art beautiful," he said in Latin.
"And thou." Her face was dancing. "I am very proud of thee, Admiral of Ships. And Fujiko - oh, she was so proud she could hardly lie still!"
"Her burns seemed bad."
"Have no fear. The doctors are well practiced and she is young and strong and confident. Tonight put everything from thy mind. No more questions about Ishido or Ikawa Jikkyu, or battles or codewords or fiefs or ships. Tonight no cares - tonight only magic things for thee. "
"Thou art magic for me."
She fluttered her fan and poured the wine and said nothing. He watched her, then they smiled together. "Because others are here and tongues wag, we must still be cautious. But oh, I am so happy for thee," she said.
"Thou. What was the other reason? You said there was another reason you wanted me to be here tonight?"
"Ah yes, the other reason." The same heavy perfume drifted around him. "It is an ancient custom we have, Anjin-san. When a lady who belongs to someone else cares for another man, and wishes to give him something of consequence that it is forbidden to give, then she will arrange for another to take her place - a gift the most perfect courtesan that she can afford."
"You said 'when a lady cares for someone else.' Do you mean 'love'?"
"Yes. But only for tonight."
"Thou."
"Thou, Anjin-san."
"Why tonight, Mariko-san, why not before?"
"Tonight is a magic night and kami walk with us. I desire thee."
Then Kiku was at the doorway. "Hallelujah!" And he was welcomed and served sake.
"How do I say that the Lady's especially pretty?"
Mariko told him and he repeated the words. The girl laughed gaily, accepted the compliment, and returned it.
"Kiku-san asks if you would like her to sing or dance for you."
"What is thy preference?"
"This Lady is here for thy pleasure, samurai, not mine."
"And thou? Thou art here also for my pleasure?"
"Yes, in a way - in a very private way."
"Then please ask her to sing."
Kiku clapped her hands gently and Ako brought the samisen. It was long, shaped something like a guitar, and three-stringed. Ako set it in position on the floor and gave the ivory plectrum to Kiku.
Kiku said, "Lady Toda, please tell our honored guest that first I will sing 'The Song of the Dragonfly.'"
"Kiku-san, I would be honored if tonight, here, you would call me Mariko-san."
"You are too kind to me, Madam. Please excuse me. I could not possibly be so impolite."
"Please."
"I will if it pleases you, though..." Her smile was lovely. "Thank you, Mariko-sama."
She strummed a chord. From the moment that the guests had walked through the gateway into her world, all her senses had been tuned.
She had secretly watched them while they were with Gyoko-san and when they were alone, searching for any clue how to pleasure him or to impress the Lady Toda.
She had not been prepared for what soon became obvious: clearly the Anjin-san desired the Lady Toda, though he hid it as well as any civilized person could hide it. This in itself was not surprising, for the Lady Toda was most beautiful and accomplished and, most important, she alone could talk with him. What astounded her was that she was certain the Lady Toda desired him equally, if not more.
The barbarian samurai and the Lady samurai, patrician daughter of the assassin Akechi Jinsai, wife of Lord Buntaro! Eeeee! Poor man, poor woman. So sad. Surely this must end in tragedy.
Kiku felt near to tears as she thought of the sadness of life, the unfairness. Oh, how I wish I were born samurai and not a peasant so that I could become even a consort to Omi-sama, not just a temporary toy. I would gladly give my hope of rebirth in return for that.
Put away sadness. Give pleasure, that is your duty.
Her fingers strummed a second chord, a chord filled with melancholy. Then she noticed that though Mariko was beguiled by her music the Anjin-san was not.
Why? Kiku knew that it was not her playing, for she was sure that it was almost perfect. Such mastery as hers was given to few.
A third, more beautiful chord, experimentally. There's no doubt, she told herself hastily, it doesn't please him. She allowed the chord to die away and began to sing unaccompanied, her voice soaring with the sudden changes of tempo that took years to perfect. Again Mariko was entranced, he was not, so at once Kiku stopped. "Tonight is not for music or singing," she announced. "Tonight is for happiness. Mariko-san, how do I say, 'please excuse me' in his language?"
"Per favor."
"Per favor, Anjin-san, tonight we must laugh only, neh?"
"Domo, Kiku-san. Hai."
"It's difficult to entertain without words, but not impossible, neh? Ah, I know!" She jumped up and began to do comic pantomimes - daimyo, kaga-man, fisherman, hawker, pompous samurai, even an old farmer collecting a full pail - and she did them all so well and so humorously that soon Mariko and Blackthorne were laughing and clapping. Then she held up her hand. Mischievously she began to mimic a man peeing, holding himself or missing, grabbing, searching for the insignificant or weighed down by the incredible, through all the stages of his life, beginning first as a child just wetting the bed and howling, to a young man in a hurry, to another having to hold back, another with size, another with smallness to the point of "where has it gone," and at length to a very old man groaning in ecstasy at being able to pee at all.
Kiku bowed to their applause and sipped cha, patting the sheen from her forehead. She noticed that he was easing his shoulders and back. "Oh, per favor, senhor!" and she knelt behind him and began to massage his neck.