"How are you?" he asked politely, his heart beating faster than he cared.
"Worried, Otami-sama. It seems the gai-jin are very determined this time, too many troop movements, too many ships cleaning weapons, many rumors of more ships coming here. Perhaps you have heard from your Taira gai-jin?"
Hiraga thought about that. Tyrer and the whole Legation staff had been in an uproar ever since the ultimatum from Tairo Anjo had arrived, Sir William bellowing more than usual, Johann the interpreter closeted for hours with Tyrer, rewriting letters to the Bakufu and only sometimes asking him to refine a phrase.
"Easier if see 'retter, Taira-sama," he would always say, wanting to know what was being sent.
"Yes, well, but this phrase for the moment ..." the Taira would always say, clearly uneasy, every day the same and this had increased his disquiet. Obviously they did not trust him as before, and this after working night and day to learn their language and giving them all manner of information.
Despicable gai-jin dogs, he had thought, afraid that any day Sir William might order him out--his poster was still prominent in the samurai guard house, the enforcer patrols malevolently checking all Japanese entering and leaving the Settlement.
Enforcer patrols should not be permitted.
Gai-jin are so idiotic--with their sea power I would not allow "enemy guards" within a league!
Idiotic for Anjo to anger them with such vile manners and arrogance while their fleet is here.
The Council of Elders is mad!
"The gai-jin officials tell me many things, shoya," he said, as though loath to be overheard.
"Fortunately I am party to their inner secrets.
It may well be I can warn you in time if any danger threatens you. Meanwhile I counselled them to beware of upsetting you and the village."
The shoya bowed to the tatami, thanking him and thanking him, then said, "These are terrible times, war is terrible and taxes are going to be put up again."
Good, Hiraga thought, his head aching, you can afford it, but it won't make you or any in the Gyokoyama eat less or drink less, or your wives and women dress less expensively, only your customers. Parasites! You're already breaking ancient laws of extravagance allowing your women to wear forbidden dress colors, like red, as under-kimonos or in your homes that, stupidly, the Bakufu, do not enforce. When we are in power there will be a reckoning.
Come on, you old fool, get to the point. I cannot waste all evening and I am not going to lose face by asking, I have more studies tonight and another book to try to read. "I can perhaps guard your interests," he said pointedly.
Again the shoya thanked him. "The message I received concerned the girl you asked about. Four days ago Lord Yoshi left Kyoto secretly, just before dawn, with a small escort of soldiers and disguised as one of them. She went too. Also in the party... are you all right, Otami-sama?"
"Yes, please go on," Hiraga said, "go on, shoya."
"Certainly. Also in the party, mounted, was the courtesan Koiko, and the girl who is her new maiko an--"
"Her what?" Hiraga gasped, "Koiko" with everything that her name implied pealing in all the corners of his mind.
"Please, may I give you some tea, or sak`e?" the shoya asked, seeing the impact the news was making. "Or a hot towel or may I order som--"
"No, go on," Hiraga said, his voice throaty.
"There is not much more. As you know the Lady Koiko is the most famous of Yedo's courtesans and now Lord Yoshi's companion. The girl was sent to her ten days ago."
"By whom?"
"We do not yet know, Otami-sama," the shoya said, retaining that information for another time.
"It seems the Lady Koiko accepted the girl as maiko after the girl was personally interviewed and approved by Lord Yoshi. She is the only other woman in the party. Her name is Sumomo Fujahito."
No mistake, Hiraga wanted to shout, that's the code name Katsumata gave her--so he sent her into that hornet's nest, but why? "Which way did he go? Lord Yoshi?"
"There are forty samurai accompanying him, all mounted but carrying no banners, and Lord Yoshi himself, as I said, was disguised. They slipped out of Kyoto just before dawn, three days ago, heading along the Tokaido, a forced march, my masters presume for Yedo." The shoya hid his astonishment at the vehemence in the young man's face.
"Forced march you say? They could reach Kanagawa, when?" The last way station before Yedo. "In ten or twelve more days?"
"Ah, yes, you are probably right though with two women travelling... my message said both were riding--oh, I already mentioned that--and oh yes, I forgot, Lord Yoshi was disguised as a common ashigari, yes I suppose it is possible to reach Kanagawa then."
Dazed, Hiraga swallowed more sak`e, hardly tasting it, accepted another cup, thanked him for the information, saying they would meet tomorrow and left to go to the village hovel he shared with Akimoto.
Outside the village streets were quiet.
Shops closed at nightfall. Lights behind shoji screens made the huts and hovels inviting. Wearily, and in turmoil over the news, he took off his top hat and ruffled his hair, scratching his scalp, still not completely accustomed to wearing his hair European style, though lately hardly noticed the discomfort of trousers and waistcoat, glad for them against the season's cold. Even scratching vigorously did not help the confusion and ache in his head so he sat on a nearby bench--squatting difficult in tight trousers--and stared at the sky.
Koiko! He remembered the two times he had been with her, once for an evening and once for the night. Eeee, both had been expensive, so expensive, but worth it. Katsumata had told him that never again would he perceive such texture of skin or silky hair or such fragrance, or such kind, gentle laughter in a woman's eyes, or experience the ultimate, exploding warmth that made you want to die, you had so much joy.
"Ah, Hiraga, to die then,"
Katsumata had said, "at such a high point, to carry that with you beyond--if there is a beyond--would be perfection. Or if there is no beyond, to be certain at the leap into nothingness you have experienced the best, to die at the zenith would surely be a totality of life?"' "True, but such waste. Why train her for Yoshi?"' "Because he is a major key to sonno-joi, for or against, because she is the only one I have ever known who might possibly enthrall him and so move him to our side, or be positioned to send him onwards. He may be the key to sonno-joi, for or against--that's our secret, yours and mine--of course he dies at a time of our choosing anyway."
Then has Katsumata sent Sumomo to be the dagger of the deed? Or is it to keep Koiko safe from betrayers, or even to guard Yoshi from a traitor within?
So many questions, so much unanswered.
He got up and walked off again, his head aching worse than ever. Tomorrow Akimoto was going with Taira aboard a warship. Hiraga had asked to go but had been refused: "So sorry,"
Tyrer had told him, "Sir William said this friend of yours, Mr. Saito, may go, but only him. Of course no weapons. I understand his family is the biggest shipbuilder in Shimonoseki, eh?"' "Yes, Taira-sama. His father fami'ry."
"But samurai are not allowed to be in business."
"That is correct, Taira-sama," he had said quickly, the man too apt a pupil, making the lie sound truthful. "But many samurai fami'ries make arrangement with money 'renders and boat makers to do work, neh? This man important sea fami'ry."
A week ago he had introduced the subject of Akimoto, with that fiction, during one of his endless meetings with Sir William where he stood and answered questions, learning little in exchange.
"His name is Saito, Sir W'ram, fami'ry rich, he visit here want to see great British Navy ships, hear great stories about great British Navy. Perhaps you and he can make together, can great ship making factory."
It was not altogether a lie. For generations Akimoto's forebearers had lived in a fishing village, one of the three ashigari families there who acted as a kind of policemen for Hiraga's father, head of the nearby hirazamurai-ranked family, also for generations. Akimoto personally, had always been interested in the sea and warships.
Hiraga's father had arranged for Akimoto to join the Choshu samurai school, ordering him to learn all he could from the Dutch seaman who was the sensei, because, soon, daimyo Ogama would need officers to captain Choshu ships, and to lead their navy.
"Eeee, Cousin," Akimoto had said the day before yesterday, "I cannot believe you persuaded them to let me learn their war secrets."
Hiraga sighed. He had noticed that anything to do with "business" got immediate gai-jin attention.
Poetry, not at all, calligraphy nothing, sword-forging a little, politics, yes, but only as it affected trade, but an opportunity to make something to sell for profit--anything, a ship or cannon or cup or knife or length of silk--brought instant results. They're worse than rich dealers! Their food is money.