Shorin became equally grave. "May I hear it?"
"Yes.
"Sonno-joi at sunset, Nothing wasted.
Into nothing I spring."
Shorin thought about the poem, savoring it, the balance of the words and the third level of meaning. Then he said solemnly, "It is wise for a samurai to have composed a death poem. I haven't managed that yet but I should, then all the rest of life is extra." He twisted his head from side to side to the limit, the joints or ligaments cracking, and he felt better. "You know, Ori, the Sensei was right, we did hesitate, therefore we lost."
"I hesitated, he's right in that, I could have killed the girl easily but she paralyzed me for a moment. I've never... her outlandish clothes, her face like a strange flower with that huge nose more like a monstrous orchid with two great blue spots and crowned with yellow stamens--those unbelievable eyes, Siamese cat eyes and thatch of straw under that ridiculous hat, so repulsive yet so, so attracting." Ori laughed nervously. "I was bewitched. She is surely a kami from the dark regions."
"Rip her clothes off and she'd be real enough, but how attractive I... I don't know."
"I thought of that too, wondering what it would be like." Ori looked up at the moon for a moment.
"If I pillowed with her I think... I think I'd become the male spider to her female."
"You mean she'd kill you afterwards?"
"Yes, if I pillowed her, with or without force, that woman would kill me." Ori waved the air, the insects becoming a pestilence. "I've never seen one like her--nor have you. You noticed too, neh?"
"No, everything happened so fast and I was trying to kill the big ugly one with the pistol and then she had fled."
Ori stared at the faint lights of Yokohama. "I wonder what she's called, what she did when she got back there. I've never seen--she was so ugly and yet..."
Shorin was unsettled. Normally Ori hardly noticed women, just used them when he had a need, let them entertain him, serve him. Apart from his adored sister, he could not remember Ori ever discussing one before. "Karma."
"Yes, karma." Ori shifted his bandage more comfortably, the throbbing deepened. Blood seeped from under it. "Even so, I do not know if we lost.
We must wait, we must be patient and see what will happen. We always planned to go against gai-jin at the first opportunity--I was right to go against them at that moment."
Shorin got up. "I'm tired of seriousness, and kami and death. We'll know death soon enough.
The Sensei gave us life for sonno-joi. From nothing into nothing--but tonight we've another night to enjoy. A bath, sak`e, food, then a real Lady of the Night, succulent and sweet-smelling and moist..." He laughed softly, "A flower, not an orchid, with a beautiful nose and proper eyes. Let's--"
He stopped. Eastwards, from the direction of Yokohama came the echoing report of a ship's signal cannon. Then a signal rocket briefly lit the darkness.
"Is that usual?"
"I don't know." Ahead they could just see the lamps at the first barrier. "Through the paddy is better, then we can skirt the guards."
"Yes. Better we cross the road here and go closer to the shore. They won't expect intruders that way, we can avoid any patrols, and the Inn is nearer."
They ran across the road, keeping well down, then up onto one of the paths that transversed the fields recently planted with winter rice.
Suddenly they stopped. From the Tokaido came the clatter of approaching horses and jingling harness. They ducked down, waited a moment, then gasped. Ten uniformed dragoons, armed with carbines, and led by an officer cantered out of the curve.
At once the soldiers were spotted by samurai at the barrier, who called out a warning. Others rushed from the huts to join them. Soon there were twenty lined up behind the barrier, an officer at their head.
"What shall we do, Ori?" Shorin whispered.
"Wait."
As they watched the senior samurai held up his hand. "Stop!" he called out, then nodded slightly instead of a bow, correct etiquette from a superior to an inferior. "Is your night travel authorized? If so please give me the papers."
Ori's fury soared as he saw the open insolence of the gai-jin officer who halted about ten paces from the barrier, called out something in his strange language and imperiously motioned to the samurai to open it, neither dismounting nor bowing courteously as custom demanded.
"How dare you be so rude! Leave!" the samurai said angrily, not expecting the insult, waving them away.
The gai-jin officer barked an order. At once his men unslung their carbines, levelled them at the samurai, then on an abrupt second order, fired a disciplined volley into the air. At once they reloaded and now aimed directly at the guards almost before the sound of the volley had died away, leaving a vast ominous silence throughout the landscape.
Shorin and Ori gasped. For all time guns had been muzzle-loaded with powder and shot. "Those are breech-loading rifles, with the new cartridges," Shorin whispered excitedly.
Neither had ever seen these recent inventions, had only heard of them. The samurai were equally shocked. "Eeee, did you notice how fast they reloaded? I heard a soldier can easily fire ten rounds to one of a muzzle loader."
"But did you see their discipline, Shorin, and that of the horses, they hardly moved!"
Once more the gai-jin officer haughtily motioned them to open the barrier, no mistaking the threat that if he was not obeyed quickly, all the samurai were dead.
"Let them through," the senior samurai said.
The Dragoon officer disdainfully spurred forward, apparently without fear, his grim faced men following, their guns ready. None of them acknowledged the guards or returned their polite bows.
"This will be reported at once and an apology demanded!" the samurai said, enraged with their insulting behavior, trying not to show it.
Once they had passed through, the barrier was replaced and Ori whispered furiously, "What foul manners! But against those guns what could he do?"
"He should have charged and killed them before he died.
I could not do what that coward did--I would have charged and died," Shorin said, knees trembling with anger.
"Yes. I think..." Ori stopped, his own anger evaporating at his sudden thought. "Come on," he whispered urgently. "We'll find out where they're going--perhaps we can steal some of those guns."
The Royal Naval longboat came out of the twilight and sped for the Kanagawa jetty. It was strongly built of stone and wood, unlike the others that speckled the shore, and boldly signposted in English and Japanese script: "Property of H.m. British Legation, Kanagawa--trespassers will be prosecuted." The longboat was rowed briskly by sailors and crammed with armed marines. A thin band of scarlet still rimmed the western horizon.
The sea was choppy, the moon rising nicely with a fair wind jostling the clouds.
One of the Legation Grenadiers waited at the end of the wharf. Beside him was a round-faced Chinese wearing a long, high-necked gown, and carrying an oil lamp on a pole.
"Oars ho!" the Bosun ordered. At once all oars were shipped, the bowman leaped onto the wharf and tied the boat to a bollard, marines followed rapidly in disciplined order and formed up defensively, guns ready, their Sergeant studying the terrain. In the stern was a naval officer. And Angelique Richaud. He helped her ashore.
"Evening sir, Ma'am," the Grenadier said, saluting the officer. "This here's Lun, he's a Legation assistant."
Lun gawked at the girl. "Ev'nin, sah, you cumalong plenty quick quick, heya? Missy cumalong never mind."
Angelique was nervous and anxious and wore a bonnet and a blue silk hooped dress with a shawl to match that set off her paleness and fair hair to perfection. "Mr. Struan, how is he?"