Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [260]
“Ah yes,” he said in better humor, remembering that night. “The rock I found in Kyushu. You were going to rename it ‘The Waiting Barbarian,’ weren’t you?”
“Yes, Sire, if it still pleases you,” Omi said. “But would you honor me tomorrow by deciding where it should go in the garden? I don’t think there’s a place good enough.”
“Tomorrow I’ll decide. Yes.” Yabu let his mind rest on the rock, and on those far-off days with his revered master, the Taikō, and last on the Night of the Screams. Melancholy seeped into him. Life is so short and sad and cruel, he thought. He eyed Suzu. The maid smiled back hesitantly, oval-faced, slender, and very delicate like the other two. The three had been brought by palanquin from his household in Mishima. Tonight they were all barefoot, their kimonos the very best silk, their skins very white. Curious that boys can be so graceful, he pondered, in many ways more feminine, more sensuous than girls are. Then he noticed Zukimoto. “What’re you waiting for? Eh? Get out!”
“Yes, Sire. You asked me to remind you about taxes, Sire.” Zukimoto heaved up his sweating bulk and gratefully hurried away. “Omi-san, you will double all taxes at once,” Yabu said.
“Yes, Sire.”
“Filthy peasants! They don’t work hard enough. They’re lazy—all of them! I keep the roads safe from bandits, the seas safe, give them good government, and what do they do? They spend the days drinking cha and saké and eating rice. It’s time my peasants lived up to their responsibility!”
“Yes, Sire,” Omi said.
Next, Yabu turned to the subject that possessed his mind. “The Anjin-san astonished me tonight. But not you?”
“Oh yes he did, Sire. More than you. But you were wise to make him commit himself.”
“You say Igurashi was right?”
“I merely admired your wisdom, Sire. You would have had to say ‘no’ to him some time. I think you were very wise to say it now, tonight.”
“I thought he’d killed himself. Yes. I’m glad you were ready. I planned on you being ready. The Anjin-san’s an extraordinary man, for a barbarian, neh? A pity he’s barbarian and so naïve.”
“Yes.”
Yabu yawned. He accepted saké from Suzu. “Half a month, you say? Mariko-san should stay at least that, Omi-san. Then I’ll decide about her, and about him. He’ll need to be taught another lesson soon.” He laughed, showing his bad teeth. “If the Anjin-san teaches us, we should teach him, neh? He should be taught how to commit seppuku correctly. That’d be something to watch, neh? See to it! Yes, I agree the barbarian’s days are numbered.”
CHAPTER 32
Twelve days later, in the afternoon, the courier from Osaka arrived. An escort of ten samurai rode in with him. Their horses were lathered and near death. The flags at their spearheads carried the cipher of the all-powerful Council of Regents. It was hot, overcast, and humid.
The courier was a lean, hard samurai of senior rank, one of Ishido’s chief lieutenants. His name was Nebara Jozen and he was known for his ruthlessness. His Gray uniform kimono was tattered and mud-stained, his eyes red with fatigue. He refused food or drink and impolitely demanded an immediate audience with Yabu.
“Forgive my appearance, Yabu-san, but my business is urgent,” he said. “Yes, I ask your pardon. My Master says first, why do you train Toranaga’s soldiers along with your own and, second, why do they drill with so many guns?”
Yabu had flushed at the rudeness but he kept his temper, knowing that Jozen would have had specific instructions and that such lack of manners bespoke an untoward position of power. And too, he was greatly unsettled that there had been another leak in his security.
“You’re very welcome, Jozen-san. You may assure your master that I always have his interests at heart,” he said with a courteousness that fooled no one