Tyrer nodded. Tears began streaming down his face that he could not stop and he found it difficult to walk. "What's... what's the matter with... me?" he gasped.
"Just shock, don't worry about it. It'll pass. It's normal in war and we're at war here. I'll be finished soon. Then we'll deal with those bastards."
"How... how will you do that?"
"I don't know." An edge came into the doctor's voice, as he cleaned the wound again with a fresh square of linen from a dwindling pile--still much sewing to be done. "The usual I suppose, just wave my hands and tell them our Minister will give them bloody hell and try to find out who attacked you. Of course they'll deny all knowledge of the affair, which is probably right--they never seem to know anything about anything. They're unlike any other people I've ever come across. I don't know whether they're just plain stupid, or clever and secretive to the point of genius. We can't seem to penetrate their society--nor can our Chinese--we've no allies amongst them, can't seem to bribe any of them to help us, we can't even speak to them directly. We're all so helpless. Are you feeling better?"
Tyrer had taken a little whisky. Before that he had wiped the tears away, filled with shame, and washed his mouth and poured water on his head. "Not really... but thanks. I'm all right. How about Struan?"
After a pause Babcott said, "I don't know. You never truly know." His heart surged at the sound of more footsteps, Tyrer blanched. A knock. The door opened immediately.
"Christ Jesus," Jamie McFay gasped, his whole attention on the bloody table and the great gash in Struan's side. "Is he going to be all right?"
"Hello, Jamie," Babcott said. "You heard about--"
"Yes, we've just come from the Tokaido, tracking Mr. Struan on the off chance, Dmitri's outside. You all right, Mr.Tyrer? The bastards butchered poor old Canterbury into a dozen pieces and left the bits to the crows..." Tyrer lurched for the basin again. Uneasily, McFay stayed at the door.
"For Christ's sake, George, is Mr.Struan going to be all right?"
"I don't know!" Babcott flared, his never-ending impotence at not knowing erupted as anger, not understanding why some patients lived and others less wounded did not, why some wounds rotted and others healed. "He's lost pints of blood, I've repaired a severed intestine, three lacerations, there are three veins and two muscles yet to be done and the wound closed and Christ alone knows how much foulness has got in from the air to infect him if that's where disease or gangrene comes from. I don't know!
I-don't-bloody-know! Now get to hell out of here and deal with those four Bakufu bastards and find out who did this by God."
"Yes, certainly, sorry, George,"
McFay said, beside himself with worry, and shocked at the violence from Babcott who was usually imperturbable, adding hastily, "we'll try--Dmitri's with me--but we know who did it, we leaned on a Chinese shopkeeper in the village. It's damn strange, the samurai were all from Satsuma and--"
"Where the hell's that?"
"He said it's a kingdom near Nagasaki on the south island, six or seven hundred miles away and--"
"What the hell are they doing here for God's sake?"
"He didn't know, but he swore they were overnighting at Hodogaya--Phillip, that's a way station on the Tokaido not ten miles from here--and their king was with them."
Sanjiro, Lord of Satsuma, eyes slitted and pitiless--a heavyset, bearded man of forty-two, his swords priceless, his blue over-mantle the finest silk--looked at his most trusted advisor. "Was the attack a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It was good, Sire," Katsumata said softly, knowing there were spies everywhere. The two men were alone, kneeling opposite each other, in the best quarters of an inn at Hodogaya, a village way station on the Tokaido, barely two miles inland from the Settlement.
"Why?" For six centuries Sanjiro's ancestors had ruled Satsuma, the richest and most powerful fief in all Japan--except for those of his hated enemies, the Toranaga clans --and, as zealously, had guarded its independence.
"It will create trouble between the Shogunate and gai-jin," Katsumata said. He was a thin, steel-hard man, a master swordsman and the most famous of all Sensei--teachers--of martial arts in Satsuma province. "The more those dogs are in conflict the sooner they will clash, the sooner the clash the better, for that will help bring down the Toranagas and their puppets at last, and let you install a new Shogunate, a new Shogun, new officials, with Satsuma preeminent and yourself one of a new roju."
Roju was another name for the Council of Five Elders that ruled in the name of the Shogun.
One of the roju? Why only one, Sanjiro thought secretly. Why not Chief Minister? Why not Shogun--I have all the necessary lineage. Two and a half centuries of Toranaga Shoguns is more than enough.
Nobusada, the fourteenth, should be the last--by my father's head, will be the last!
This Shogunate had been established by the warlord Toranaga in 1603 after winning the battle of Sekigahara, where his legions took forty thousand enemy heads. With Sekigahara he eliminated all practical opposition and, for the first time in history, had subdued Nippon, the Land of the Gods, as Japanese called their country, and brought it under one rule.
At once this brilliant general and administrator, now holding absolute temporal power, gratefully accepted the title Shogun, the highest rank a mortal could have, from a powerless Emperor--which confirmed him, legally, as Dictator. Quickly he made his Shogunate hereditary, at once decreeing that, in future, all temporal matters were the sole province of the Shogun, all spiritual matters the Emperor's.
For the last eight centuries the Emperor, the Son of Heaven, and his court had lived in seclusion in the walled Imperial Palace at Kyoto. Once a year, only, he came outside the walls to visit the sacred Ise shrine but, even then, he was hidden from all eyes, his face never seen in public. Even inside the walls he was screened from all but his most immediate family by zealous, hereditary officials and ancient, mystic protocols.
Thus the warlord who had physical possession of the Palace Gates decided who went in and who came out, had de facto possession of the Emperor and his ear, and thus his influence and power.
And though all Japanese absolutely believed him to be divine, and accepted him as the Son of Heaven, and descended from the Sun Goddess in an unbroken line since time began, by historic custom the Emperor and his court retained no armies, and had no revenue other than that granted by the warlord at his Gates-- yearly at the man's whim.
For decades Shogun Toranaga, his son and grandson, ruled with wise though ruthless control.
Following generations loosened their hold, lesser officials usurped more and more power, gradually making their own offices hereditary too.
The Shogun remained titular head but, over a century or more, had become a puppet--but always and only selected from the Toranaga line, as was the Council of Elders. The present Shogun, Nobusada, was chosen four years ago when he was twelve.
And not long for this earth, Sanjiro promised himself, and came back to the present problem which disturbed him. "Katsumata, the killings, though merited, may provoke the gai-jin too much and that would be bad for Satsuma."
"I do not see any bad, Sire. The Emperor wants the gai-jin expelled, you do, as do most daimyos. That the two samurai are Satsumas will also please the Emperor. Do not forget your mission to Yedo was accomplished perfectly."
Three months ago Sanjiro had persuaded Emperor Komei, through intermediaries at the Imperial court in Kyoto, personally to sign several "wishes" Sanjiro had suggested, and to appoint him escort to an Imperial Messenger who would formally deliver the scroll in Yedo which would ensure its acceptance--a "wish" of the Emperor, if accepted, was difficult to refuse, sometimes. For the last two months he had led the negotiations and as much as the Elders and their Bakufu officials twisted and turned, he had dominated them and now had their written assent to certain reforms bound to weaken the whole Shogunate. Importantly he now had their formal consent to cancel the hated Treaties, signed against the Emperor's wishes, to expel the hated gai-jin and to close the land as it was before the unwelcome arrival and forced entry of Perry.
"Meanwhile, what about those two fools who broke ranks and killed without orders?"
Sanjiro asked.
"Any act that embarrasses the Bakufu helps you."
"I agree the gai-jin were provocative.
Those vermin had no right to be anywhere near me.
My banner and the Imperial banner were in the front rank forbidding it."
"So let the gai-jin bear the consequences of their act: they forced their way onto our shores against our wishes and have the Yokohama foothold. With the men we have now, and a surprise attack by night, we could obliterate the Settlement and burn the surrounding villages easily. We could do it tonight and solve the problem permanently."
"Yokohama yes, with a sudden attack. But we cannot get at their fleets, we cannot squash them and their cannon."
"Yes, Sire. And the gai-jin would retaliate at once. Their fleet would bombard Yedo and destroy it."
"I agree, and the sooner the better. But that would not destroy the Shogunate and after Yedo they would go against me, they would attack my capital, Kagoshima. I cannot risk that."
"I believe Yedo would satisfy them, Sire. If their base is burnt they would have to go back aboard their ships and sail away, back to Hong Kong. Sometime in the future they may come back, but then they must land in strength to erect a new base. Worse for them, they must use land forces to maintain it."
"They humbled China. Their war machine is invincible."
"This isn't China and we are not mealymouthed, cowardly Chinese to be bled to death or frightened to death by these carrion. They say they just want to trade. Good, you want to trade too, for guns, cannon and ships." Katsumata smiled and added delicately, "I suggest if we burn and destroy Yokohama--of course, we pretend the attack is at the Bakufu's request, the Shogun's request--when the gai-jin return, whoever controls the Shogunate then would reluctantly agree to pay a modest indemnity and, in return, the gai-jin will happily agree to tear up their shameful treaties and trade on any terms we decide to impose."