And when you sail away, what about Fujiko-san and what about Mariko-san? Will you truly return here, leaving the knighthood and the even greater honors that you'll surely be granted, provided you come back laden with treasure? Will you sail outward bound once more into the hostile deep, to smash through the freezing horror of Magellan's Pass, to endure storm and sea and scurvy and mutiny for another six hundred and ninety-eight days to make a second landfall here? To take up this life again?
Decide!
Then he remembered what Mariko had told him about compartments of the mind: 'Be Japanese, Anjin-san, you must, to survive. Do what we do, surrender yourself to the rhythm of karma unashamed. Be content with the forces beyond your control. Put all things into their own separate compartments and yield to wa, the harmony of life. Yield, Anjin-san, karma is karma, neh?' Yes. I'll decide when the time comes.
First I have to get the crew. Next I capture the Black Ship. Then I sail halfway around the earth to England. Then I'll buy and equip the warships. And then I'll decide. Karma is karma.
Kiku stirred, then buried herself deeper into the quilts, nestling closer. He felt the warmth of her through their silk kimonos. And he was kindled.
"Anjin-chan," she murmured, still in sleep.
"Hai?"
He did not awaken her. He was content to cradle her and rest, enraptured by the serenity that the yielding had given him. But before he went into sleep, he blessed Mariko for teaching him.
"Yes, Omi-sama, certainly," Gyoko said. "I'll fetch the Anjin-san at once. Please excuse me. Ako, come with me." Gyoko sent Ako for tea, then bustled out into the garden wondering what vital news the galloping night messenger had brought, for she too had heard the hoofs. And why is Omi so strange today, she asked herself. Why so cold, rough, and dangerous? And why did he come himself on so menial a task? Why not send any samurai?
Ah, who knows? Omi's a man. How can you understand them, particularly samurai? But something's wrong, terribly wrong. Did the messenger bring a declaration of war? I suppose so. If it's war, then it's war and war never hurt our business. Daimyos and samurai will still need entertaining, as always - more so in war - and in war, money means less than ever to them. Good good good.
She smiled to herself. Remember the war days forty-odd years ago when you were seventeen and the toast of Mishima? Remember all the laughter and pillowing and proud nights that melted into days? Remember serving Old Baldy himself, Yabu's father, the nice old gentleman who boiled criminals like his son after him? Remember how hard you had to work to make him soft - unlike the son! Gyoko chuckled. We pillowed three days and three nights, then he became my patron for a whole year. Good times - a good man. Oh, how we pillowed!
War or peace, never mind! Shigata ga nai? There's enough invested with the moneylenders and rice merchants, a little here, a little there. Then there's the sake factory in Odawara, the Tea House in Mishima's thriving, and today Lord Toranaga's going to buy Kiku's contract!
Yes, interesting times ahead, and how fantastically interesting the previous night had been. Kiku had been brilliant, the Anjin-san's outburst mortifying. Kiku had made as deft a recovery as any courtesan in the land. And then, when the Lady Toda had left them, Kiku's artistry had made everything perfect and the night blissful.
Ah, men and women. So predictable. Especially men.
Babies always. Vain, difficult, terrible, petulant, pliant, horrible - marvelous most rarely - but all born with that single incredible redeeming feature that we in the trade refer to as the Jade Root, Turtle Head, Yang Peak, Steaming Shaft, Male Thruster, or simply Piece of Meat.
How insulting! Yet how apt!
Gyoko chuckled and asked herself for the ten thousandth time, by all gods living and dead and yet to be born, what in the world would we do in this world without the Piece of Meat?
She hurried on again, her footsteps just loud enough to announce her presence. She mounted the polished cedar steps. Her knock was practiced.
"Anjin-san - Anjin-san, so sorry but Lord Toranaga's sent for you. You're ordered to the fortress at once."
"What? What did you say?"
She repeated it in simpler language.
"Ah! Understand! All right - I there quick," she heard him say, with his funny accent.
"So sorry, please excuse me. Kiku-san?"
"Yes, Mama-san?" In a moment the shoji slid open. Kiku smiled at her, the kimono clinging and her hair prettily disarrayed. "Good morning, Mama-san, did you have pleasant dreams?"
"Yes, yes, thank you. So sorry to disturb you. Kiku-chan, do you wish for fresh cha?"
"Oh!" Kiku's smile disappeared. This was the code sentence that Gyoko could freely use in front of any client which told Kiku that her most special client, Omi-san, was in the Tea House. Then Kiku could always finish her story or song or dance more quickly, and go to Omi-san, if she wished. Kiku pillowed with very few, though she entertained many - if they paid the fee. Very, very few could afford all her services.
"What is it?" Gyoko asked narrowly.
"Nothing, Mama-san. Anjin-san," Kiku called out gaily, "so sorry, would you like cha?"
"Yes, please."
"It will be here at once," Gyoko said. "Ako! Hurry up, child."
"Yes, Mistress." Ako brought in the tray of tea and two cups and poured, and Gyoko left, again apologizing for disturbing him.
Kiku gave Blackthorne the cup herself. He drank it thirstily, then she helped him to dress. Ako laid out a fresh kimono for her. Kiku was most attentive but she was consumed with the knowledge that soon she would have to accompany the Anjin-san outside the gateway to bow him homeward. It was good manners. More than that, it was her privilege and duty. Only courtesans of the First Rank were ever allowed to go beyond the threshold to bestow that rare honor; all others had to stay within the courtyard. It was unthinkable for her not to finish the night as was expected - that would be a terrible insult to her guest and yet...
For the first time in her life, Kiku did not wish to bow one guest homeward in front of another guest.
I can't, not the Anjin-san in front of Omi-san.
Why? she asked herself. Is it because the Anjin-san's barbarian and you're ashamed that all the world will know you've been possessed by a barbarian? No. All Anjiro knows already and a man is like any other, most of the time. This man is samurai, hatamoto, and Admiral of Lord Toranaga's ships! No, nothing like that.
What is it then?
It's because I found in the night that I was shamed by what Omi-san did to him. As we should all be shamed. Omi-san should never have done that. The Anjin-san is branded and my fingers seemed to feel the brand through the silk of his kimono. I burn with shame for him, a good man to whom that should not have been done.
Am I defiled?
No, of course not, just shamed before him. And shamed before Omi-san for being ashamed.
Then in the reaches of her mind she heard Mama-san saying again, 'Child, child, leave man things to men. Laughter is our balm against them, and the world and the gods and even old age.'
"Kiku-san?"
"Yes, Anjin-san?"
"Now I go."
"Yes. Let us go together," she said.
He took her face tenderly in his rough hands and kissed her. "Thank you. No words enough to thank."
"It is I who should thank you. Please allow me to thank you, Anjin-san. Let us leave now."
She allowed Ako to put the finishing touches to her hair, which she left hanging loosely, tied the sash of the fresh kimono, and went with him.
Kiku walked beside him as was her privilege, not a few steps behind as a wife or consort or daughter or servant was obliged to. He put his hand on her shoulder momentarily and this was distasteful to her for they were not in the privacy of a room. Then she had a sudden, horrible premonition that he would kiss her publicly - which Mariko had mentioned was barbarian custom - at the gate. Oh, Buddha let that not happen, she thought, almost faint with fright.
His swords were in the reception room. By custom, all weapons were left under guard, outside the pleasure rooms, to avoid lethal quarrels with other clients, and also to prevent any lady from ending her life. Not all Ladies of the Willow World were happy or fortunate.