Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [140]
“I always seek and enjoy your counsel.”
“Thank you.” Her back straightened a little. “Listen, while I’m alive neither the Heir nor the Lady Ochiba will ever go against you.”
“Yes.”
“Will you consider what I proposed?”
“My late Master’s will forbids it. I cannot go against the will or my sacred promise as a Regent.”
They walked in silence. Then Yodoko sighed. “Why not take her to wife?”
Toranaga stopped in his tracks. “Ochiba?”
“Why not? She’s totally worthy as a political choice. A perfect choice for you. She’s beautiful, young, strong, her bloodline’s the best, part Fujimoto, part Minowara, the sun dances in her, and she has an immense joy of life. You’ve no official wife now—so why not? This would solve the problem of the succession and stop the realm from being torn apart. You would have other sons by her surely. Yaemon would succeed you, then his sons or her other sons. You could become Shōgun. You would have the power of the realm and the power of a father so you could train Yaemon to your way. You would adopt him formally and he would be as much your son as any you have. Why not marry Lady Ochiba?”
Because she’s a wildcat, a treacherous tigress with the face and body of a goddess, who thinks she’s an empress and acts like one, Toranaga told himself. You could never trust her in your bed. She’d be just as likely to thread a needle through your eyes when you’re asleep as she’d be to caress you. Oh no, not her! Even if I married her in name only—which she’d never agree to—oh no! It’s impossible! For all sorts of reasons, not the least of which is that she’s hated me and plotted my downfall, and that of my house, ever since she whelped for the first time, eleven years ago.
Even then, even at seventeen, she had committed herself to my destruction. Ah, so soft outwardly, like the first ripe peach of summer, and as fragrant. But inwardly sword steel with a mind to match, weaving her spells, soon making the Taikō mad over her to the exclusion of all others. Yes, she had the Taikō cowed since she was fifteen when he first took her formally. Yes, and don’t forget, truly, she pillowed him, even then, not he her, however much he believed it. Yes, even at fifteen, Ochiba knew what she sought and the way to obtain it. Then the miracle happening, giving the Taikō a son at long last, she alone of all the women he had in his life. How many pillow ladies? A hundred at least, him a stoat who sprayed more Joyful Juice into more Heavenly Chambers than ten ordinary men! Yes. And these women of all ages and all castes, casual or consort, from a Fujimoto princess to Fourth Class courtesans. But none ever even became pregnant, though later, many of those that the Taikō dismissed or divorced or married off had children by other men. None, except the Lady Ochiba.
But she gave him his first son at fifty-three, poor little thing, sickly and dying so soon, the Taikō rending his clothes, almost crazy with grief, blaming himself and not her. Then, four years later, miraculously she whelped again, miraculously another son, miraculously healthy this time, she twenty-one now. Ochiba the Peerless, the Taikō had called her.
Did the Taikō father Yaemon or not? Eeeee, I’d give a lot to know the truth. Will we ever know the truth? Probably not, but what would I not give for proof, one way or another.
Strange that the Taikō, so clever about everything else, was not clever about Ochiba, doting on her and Yaemon to insanity. Strange that of all the women she should have been the mother of his heir, she whose father and stepfather and mother were dead because of the Taikō.
Would she have the cleverness to pillow with another man, to take his seed, then obliterate this same man to safeguard herself? Not once but twice?
Could she be so treacherous? Oh, yes.
Marry Ochiba? Never.
“I’m honored that you would make such a suggestion,” Toranaga