"War would be very bad. I think they will talk and we can maneuver them out of this madness." Yoshi's voice became harsher. "We can if we are clever enough. Meanwhile we must concentrate on more important matters: like Kyoto and taking back control of our Gates, like the hostile daimyos, like getting enough gold to buy weapons and modernize and equip our forces--and those of our trusted allies--and not allow Choshu, Tosa and Satsuma to arm under the guise of supporting us, merely to more quickly attack us."
"The traitor Ogama should be outlawed,"
Toyama said. "Why don't we outlaw him and take back our Gates?"
"To attack him now would be baka!" Anjo told him sourly. "It would only push Satsuma and Tosa into his arms, along with other fence sitters." He shifted uncomfortably, his stomach hurting him, head hurting, and no relief from the new Chinese doctor he had consulted in secret about his constant pains. "We settle it this way: Yoshi-dono, please draft a reply to the gai-jin for approval at tomorrow's meeting."
"Certainly. But what I want to know is who is feeding our secrets to them. Who is the gai-jin spy? This is the first time they've mentioned the "young" Shogun and named him, and named the Emperor. Someone is betraying us."
"We will put all our spies on to it! Good.
And we will meet tomorrow morning as usual, consider the draft of our reply and decide on your plan."
Anjo's eyes slitted. "And to make final preparations for Shogun Nobusada's departure to Kyoto."
The blood went out of Yoshi's face. "We have discussed this a dozen times. At our last meet--"
"His visit will go forward! He will travel by the north road, not the Tokaido, along the coast. Safer."
"As Guardian I oppose the visit for the reasons already stated over and over--by any road!"
Toyama said, "Better for my son to be in Kyoto. Soon we will be at war. Our warriors won't be checked much longer."
"No war and no visit. Either will destroy us,"
Yoshi said angrily. "The moment a Shogun kowtows, as Nobusada will, our position is ruined for all time. The Legacy states th--"
Anjo said, "The Legacy will not dominate in this."
"The Toranaga Legacy is our only anchor and cannot b--"
"I do not agree!"
Choking back his rage, Yoshi began to get up but stopped as Anjo said, "There is a last matter to decide today: the immediate appointment of the new Elder, Utani's replacement."
There was a sudden tension amongst them. Since Utani's assassination and the manner of his death--the room in which he and the youth had been impaled had not been completely destroyed in the fire--together with the failure of legions of spies and soldiers to apprehend the assassins, all the Elders had slept less comfortably. Particularly Anjo who was still smarting from his own near assassination.
Except for Yoshi who was occasionally supported by Utani, none of the others regretted his death, or the manner of it, least of all Anjo who had been shocked to discover the identity of the paramour and loathed Utani even more for secretly stealing his occasional pleasure. "Let us vote now."
"Such an important matter should wait until tomorrow."
"So sorry, Yoshi-sama. Now is a perfect time."
Adachi nodded. "Unless the Council is at full strength we cannot take important decisions. Who do you propose?"
"I formally propose Zukumura of Gai."
In spite of his control Yoshi gasped--the daimyo was simple-minded, a kinsman and open ally of Anjo. "I have already stated my disapproval of him--there are a dozen better than him," he said at once. "We agreed on Gen Taira."
"I did not agree." Anjo smiled with his mouth only. "I merely said I would consider him carefully. I have. Zukumura is a better choice. Now we will vote."
"I do not think a vote now is wise or adv--"
"Vote! As chief Councillor it is my right to put it to a vote! Vote!"
"I vote No!" Yoshi said and glared at the other two.
Adachi did not meet his eye, just said, "Gai have been Mito's allies since Sekigahara.
Yes."
Toyama shrugged. "Whatever you want."
Yoshi slashed violently at his two opponents with the wooden sword, sweat pouring off his face, then darted back, spun and attacked again. Both men, experts, sidestepped and pressed their own attack, on orders to be victors, with failure costing them a month confined to barracks and three months pay.
Cleverly, one man feinted to give the other an opening but Yoshi was ready and ducked under the blow and caught the man across the chest and his sword shattered with the strength of his blow--if the blade had been real it would have almost cut the man in two-- eliminating him from the contest.
At once the other rushed in confidently for the kill but Yoshi was no longer where he had expected but almost floor level and hacking forward with a karate foot chop. This man groaned in agony as the iron-hard edge of Yoshi's foot crashed into his scrotum and he fell writhing.
Still enwrapped in his rage and adrenaline, Yoshi leaped at the prone man, the splintered haft of his sword ready on high, a stake to drive into the man's throat for the death blow. But he stayed the blow a hair above the man's neck, heart pumping, ecstatic with his skill and control and that he had not failed this time, victory meaning nothing.
His pent-up fury was no more.
Content now, he tossed the broken haft aside and began to unwind, the exercise room bare and Spartan like the rest of the castle. All were panting from their exertions, the prone man still twisting and turning with pain. Then Yoshi was astonished to hear gentle clapping. Angrily he turned-- by his custom, no one was ever invited to witness these practice sessions where the extent of his prowess could be gauged, his weaknesses could be judged, and his brutality measured--but this anger vanished also.
"Hosaki! When did you arrive?" he said, trying to regain his breath. "Why not send a messenger to tell me you were coming?" His smile vanished. "Trouble?"
"No, Sire," his wife said so happily, kneeling beside the door. "No trouble, just an abundance of pleasure to see you." She bowed deeply, her riding skirt and jacket, serviceable heavy green silk, modest and travel marked, like the padded matching overmantle and wide hat tied under her chin and short sword in her obi. "Please excuse me for slipping in like this, uninvited, and not changing first but, well, I could not wait to see you--and now I am even more pleased I did for now I know that you are a better swordsman than ever."
He pretended not to be delighted, then went closer and looked at her searchingly. "Really no trouble?"
"Yes, Sire." She beamed, her adoration open. White teeth and ebony slanted eyes in a classic face that was neither attractive nor ordinary but not to be forgotten, her whole presence was one of great dignity.
"Yoshi," his father had said nine years ago when he was seventeen, "I have chosen your wife for you.
Her blood line is Toranaga, equal to yours though from the minor branch of Mitowara. Her name is Hosaki, meaning an "ear of wheat" in the ancient tongue, a harbinger of abundance and fertility, and also a "spear head." I do not think she will fail you in either capacity...."
Nor has she, Yoshi thought proudly. Already two fine sons and a daughter, and she's still strong, always wise, a firm manager of our finances--and, rare in a wife, pleasant enough to pillow occasionally though with none of the fire of my consort or pleasure partners, particularly Koiko.
He accepted a dry towel from the man who was unhurt, and waved his hand in dismissal. The man bowed silently and helped the other, still in agony, to limp out.
He knelt near her, towelling the sweat away. "So?"
"It's not safe here, neh?" she said softly.
"Nowhere is safe."