Two rows of half a dozen chairs facing each other at the far end. Many doors. Only servants present to greet them. An elaborately garbed though low-rank Bakufu official motioned them to chairs without bowing as servants brought small trays, saying in Dutch: "Please be seated for tea."
Sir William saw that Johann was deep in conversation with his Swiss Minister so he said irritably, "Phillip, ask that fellow where the Council of Elders, the roju, are."
Hiding his nervousness and conscious that all eyes were on him and wanting to relieve himself again, Phillip Tyrer walked over to the official and waited for him to bow. The man did not, just stared at him, so he said sharply, "Where are your manners? Bow! I am a Lord in my country and I represent these High Lords!"
The man flushed and bowed low and mumbled his apologies and Tyrer was exceedingly pleased that he had had the foresight to ask Nakama for some key phrases. He interrupted the man even more imperiously, "Where are your masters, the roju?"
"Ah so sorry, please excuse me, Lord," the man stammered. "They ask that you wait here to, er, to take refreshment."
Tyrer missed words but he caught the gist.
"And after refreshments?"
"It will be my honor to conduct you to the meeting place," the man said, his eyes cautiously lowered.
Again, to Tyrer's enormous relief, he understood. As he told Sir William what had been said he could feel the cold sweat on his back and knew he had been lucky so far.
Sir William snorted and leaned towards the others. "Damned if we should wait, eh, gentlemen? They're overdue--it was agreed we'd go straight to the meeting--damned if I want to wait, nor drink their apology for tea.
Good," he said and added to general approval, "Phillip, tell the fellow we came to see the roju. That's what we want to do now. Now."
"How, er, how strong do you, er, want me to be, sir?"
"For God's sake, Phillip, if I wanted you to be long-winded and diplomatic I would have been long-winded and diplomatic. An interpreter's job is to translate what is said exactly, not to give his interpretation of what is said."
"The Great Lord says: he want see roju now. Now!"
The official was shocked at the impolite bluntness, an unheard-of affront, and was in a complete quandary. His instructions had been clear: The gai-jin will be kept waiting a suitable "face losing" period, about half a candle, when we will send word and you may escort them into our presence. He said rapidly, "Of course I will take you the instant you have had refreshment and everything is ready for your perfect reception but oh so sorry this is just not possible for a little while as their August Persons are not yet in their correct attire so it is not yet possible to comply with your Master's unseemly request, Interpreter-san."
"Please to say again, not fast," Tyrer said nervously, swamped. Another flood of Japanese. "Sir William I think he's saying we have to wait."
"Eh? Why?"
"My Master say, why wait?"
More Japanese which Tyrer lost, so the man turned to Dutch, and Erlicher stepped into the conversation, further irritating Sir William and the others. At length Erlicher said, "It seems, Sir William, that the roju are not, how you say, ah yes, they are not quite ready, but when they are we'll be taken to the audience room."
"Please tell this, this fellow bluntly to take us there right smartly, that we are on time, that high-level meetings are always on time because both sides have other important affairs of State to deal with as I've explained fifty times! And tell him to hurry up!"
Erlicher beamed and said it plainly and however much the official twisted and turned and eventually begged, he bowed and, as slowly as possible, led them through a door, down a corridor--first sending a messenger ahead to warn to the Council of the gai-jin's astounding impertinence.
Another corridor and then, ahead, samurai opened huge doors, the official went onto his knees and bowed his head to the floor. Four men in elaborate silk robes, swords in their belts sat on chairs at the far end of the audience room on a slightly raised platform.
The central chair was empty. In front of them, on a lower level--which all Ministers noted instantly--were six chairs for each of the Ministers and between the two knelt the official interpreter. A hundred or so samurai officers knelt in a half circle facing the door and as Sir William came in, all samurai in the room bowed. The four roju did not.
Sir William and the others bowed back politely, then approached the dais and took their seats: "Under no circumstances do Ministers of civilized nations get down on their knees and bow their heads to the floor," Sir William had said, "whatever your customs, whether you do it or no and that's the end of it!"
Phillip Tyrer, now an expert on bowing because of Nakama, noticed that each time an Elder bowed it was as superior to inferior.
Never mind, he thought, awed and excited, we're in the inner sanctum. When does the Shogun arrive to take the empty chair? A boy? I wonder what he'll look like and what-- An Elder began to speak. With a sudden start, Tyrer recognized him as the youngish official from their previous meeting at their Legation, and also the nervous, swarthy man sitting beside him who had said nothing then but had watched everything with his narrow eyes.
Why had two Elders come to meet with us without announcing themselves as such? he asked himself. Wait a minute, didn't the young Official introduce himself as Tomo Watanabe, yes, certainly he did, "junior official, second class."
Obviously a phony name. But why? And why the disguise?
Unsettled, Tyrer left that to be answered later and gave his attention to what the man was saying, understanding almost none of it, as he had been forewarned by Nakama would happen, who had told him that Court-oriented words would probably be used, most of which, as with most ordinary Japanese words and phrases, had different, often conflicting meanings.
His concentration wandered. The third Elder was rotund with a pudgy face and feminine hands, and the last truly elderly, graying and thin-faced with a bad scar on his left cheek. All were barely over five and a half feet, their winglike overmantles and wide-legged trousers and high-domed, lacquered hats tied under their chins and, above all their immobile dignity, making them imposing.
Now the Japanese interpreter spoke in Dutch: "The roju, the Council of Elders of the Shogunate welcomes the foreign representatives and wishes them to present their documents as has been agreed."
Sir William sighed, mesmerized by the empty chair. "All right, Johann, let's begin. Say to them, shouldn't we wait until the Shogun honors us with his presence?"
This into Dutch into Japanese, much discussion, then again the young Elder, Yoshi, made a pronouncement, slowly and meticulously translated into Dutch, into English.
"Basically, without the usual palaver, Sir William, the spokesman says the Shogun wasn't expected in this meeting, this is with the roju only. The Shogun was to be later."
"That was not as was agreed and I inform them again that Ministerial credentials are only presented to the Head of State, in this case the Shogun, so we can't proceed."
Back and forth and then, to the Ministers' displeasure: "The Elder says the Shogun had to leave for Kyoto urgently and regrets he will not have the pleasure of meeting you, etc., but you can give the roju your credentials as they have his authority to accept them."
Back and forth, Sir William's annoyance reddening into visible anger, more discussion on both sides and more time consumed, then a scroll, heavy with characters and sealed importantly and handled as though it were the Holy Grail, was presented by a kneeling official to Sir William.
"Phillip, can you read this?"
"I, no, sorry sir."
"No need to worry." Sir William sighed and turned to the others. "This is most improper."
"Yes," von Heimrich said coldly.
"Unacceptable," Count Alexi Zergeyev agreed.
"A dangerous precedent," Adamson said.
"It's certainly most unusual," Seratard said in French, "and they did promise the Shogun. We could, for just this meeting, agree to their request, eh, my friends?" He was careful to hide his own annoyance and kept his voice smooth and gentle as Andr`e Poncin, at his elbow, had suggested in a cautious whisper the moment they had entered the room, adding: "Be careful, Henri, the roju spokesman is the same Bakufu official I... we made the offer to after the other meeting, to inspect a warship, remember? Mon Dieu, I thought he was important, but never one of the Elders! If we could get him on the side of France, it would be an marvelous coup..."
Count Zergeyev was saying, "Agreeing will create a deplorable precedent."
"It will only be for this meeting. Yes?"
"It doesn't matter, it's wind over a cow's arse," the Swiss, Erlicher, said.
"Let's get on with it."
They argued. Tyrer listened but kept his attention on the Elders without being apparent, fascinated by them, wanting to take advantage of this rare opportunity to learn the maximum about them in the minimum time. His father had impressed on him from an early age: "In any meeting, always watch your opponent's hands and feet, they are the giveaways, eyes too and faces, yes, but those are usually easily controlled. Concentrate! Observe, but cautiously or the clues to tell you what he or she is really thinking will be obscured. Remember, my son, everyone exaggerates, everyone lies in some degree."