“Wisdom and Luck are no good without the means to put a plan into effect, Sire. You alone can do that—you’re the leader, the fighter, the battle-general that Toranaga must have. You must see him tonight.”

“I can’t go to Toranaga and tell him I’ve seen through his ruse, neh?”

“No, but you’ll beg him to allow you to go with the Anjin-san, that you must leave at once. We can think of a plausible reason.”

“But if the Anjin-san attacks Nagasaki and the Black Ship, won’t they stop trading and sail away?”

“Yes. Possibly. But that’s next year. By next year Toranaga will be a Regent, President of the Regents. And you his commander-in-chief.”

Yabu came down from the clouds. “No,” he said firmly. “Once he has power he’ll order me to commit seppuku.”

“Long before that you will have the Kwanto.”

His eyes blinked. “How?”

“Toranaga will never actually give his half brother the Kwanto. Zataki’s a perpetual threat. Zataki’s a wild man, pride-filled, neh? It will be so easy for Toranaga to maneuver Zataki into begging for the foremost place in the battle. If Zataki doesn’t get killed . . . perhaps a stray bullet or arrow? Probably a bullet. You must lead the Musket Regiment in the battle, Sire.”

“Why shouldn’t I receive a stray bullet equally?”

“You may, Sire. But you’re not Toranaga’s kinsman and therefore no threat to his power. You will become his most devoted vassal. He needs fighting generals. You’ll earn the Kwanto, and that should be your only goal. He’ll give it to you when Ishido’s betrayed because he’ll take Osaka for himself.”

“Vassal? But you said to wait and soon I’d nev—”

“Now I counsel you to support him with all your strength. Not to follow his orders blindly like old Iron Fist, but cleverly. Don’t forget, Yabu-chan, during battle, as in any battle, soldiers make mistakes, stray bullets do happen. So long as you lead the Regiment, you can choose, too—any time, neh?”

“Yes,” he said, awed by her.

“Remember, Toranaga’s worth following. He’s Minowara, Ishido’s a peasant. Ishido’s the fool. I can see that now. Ishido should be hammering at the gates of Odawara right now, rain or no rains. Didn’t Omi-san say that months ago too? Isn’t Odawara undermanned? Isn’t Toranaga isolated?”

Yabu pounded his fist on the floor with delight. “Then it’s war after all! How clever you are to have seen through him! Ah, so he’s been playing the fox all the time, neh?”

“Yes,” she said, greatly satisfied.

Mariko had come to the same astonishing conclusion, though not from all the same facts. Toranaga must be pretending, playing a secret game, she reasoned. That’s the only possible explanation for his incredible conduct—giving the Anjin-san the ship, the money, all the cannon, and freedom in front of Tsukku-san. Now the Anjin-san will absolutely go against the Black Ship. He will take it, and threaten the one next year, and therefore he’ll maul the Holy Church terribly and force the Holy Fathers to compel Kiyama and Onoshi to betray Ishido. . . .

But why? If that’s true, she thought, perplexed, and Toranaga’s considering such a long-range plan, then of course he can’t go to Osaka and bow before Ishido, neh? He must . . . Ah! What about today’s delay that Hiro-matsu persuaded Toranaga to make? Oh, Madonna on high, Toranaga never intended to surrender! It’s all a trick.

Why? To gain time.

To accomplish what? To wait and weave a thousand more tricks, and it doesn’t matter what, only that Toranaga’s once more what he always was, the almighty puppeteer.

How long before Ishido’s impatience shatters and he raises the battle standard and moves against us? One month—at the most two. No more. So by the ninth month of this Fifth Year of Keichō, the battle for the Kwanto begins!

But what’s Toranaga gained in two months? I don’t know—I only know that now my son has a chance to inherit his ten thousand koku, and to live and breed, and that now perhaps my father’s line will not perish from the earth.

She relished her newfound knowledge, toying with it, examining it, finding her logic flawless. But what to do between now and then? she asked herself. Nothing more than you’ve already done—and decided to do. Neh?

“Mistress?”

“Yes, Chimmoko?”

“Gyoko-san is here. She has an appointment, she says.”

“Ah yes. I forget to tell you. First heat saké, then bring it, and her, here.”

Mariko reflected on the afternoon. She remembered his arms around her, so safe and warm and strong. ‘Can I see you tonight?’ he had asked very cautiously, after Yabu and Tsukku-san had left.

‘Yes,’ she had said impulsively. ‘Yes, my darling. Oh, how happy I am for thee. Tell Fujiko-san . . . ask her to send for me after the Hour of the Boar.’

In the quiet of her house her throat tightened. So much foolishness and danger.

She checked her makeup and coiffure in her mirror and tried to compose herself. Footsteps approached. The shoji slid open. “Ah, Lady,” Gyoko said, bowing deeply. “How kind of you to see me.”

“You’re welcome, Gyoko-san.”

They drank saké, Chimmoko pouring for them.

“Such lovely pottery, Lady. So beautiful.”

They made polite conversation, then Chimmoko was sent away.

“So sorry, Gyoko-san, but our Master did not arrive this afternoon. I haven’t seen him, though I hope to before I leave.”

“Yes, I heard Yabu-san went to the jetty in his place.”

“When I see Toranaga-sama I will ask him once more. But I expect his answer will be the same.” Mariko poured saké for both of them.

“So sorry, he will not grant my request.”

“Yes, I believe you. Not unless there is great pressure.”

“There’s no pressure that I can use. So sorry.”

“So sorry too, Lady.”

Mariko put down her cup. “Then you’ve decided that some tongues are not safe.”

Gyoko said harshly, “If I were going to whisper secrets about you, would I tell you to your face? Do you think I’d be so naïve?”

“Perhaps you’d better go, so sorry, but I have so much to do.”

“Yes, Lady, and so have I!” Gyoko replied, her voice rough. “Lord Toranaga asked me, to my face, what I knew about you and the Anjin-san. This afternoon. I told him there was nothing between you. I said, ‘Oh yes, Sire, I’ve heard the foul rumors too, but there’s no truth in them. I swear it on the head of my son, Sire, and his sons. If anyone would know, surely it would be me. You may believe it’s all a malicious lie—gossip, jealous gossip, Sire. . . .’ Oh yes, Lady, you may believe I was suitably shocked, my acting perfect, and he was convinced.” Gyoko quaffed the saké, and added bitterly, “Now we are all ruined if he gets proof—which wouldn’t be difficult to get. Neh?”

“How?”

“Put the Anjin-san to the test—Chinese methods. Chimmoko—Chinese methods. Me—Kiku-san—Yoshinaka . . . so sorry, even you, Lady—Chinese methods.”

Mariko took a deep breath. “May—may I ask you—why you took such a risk?”

“Because in certain situations women must protect each other against men. Because I actually saw nothing. Because you’ve done me no harm. Because I like you and the Anjin-san and believe you both have your own karmas. And because I’d rather have you alive and a friend than dead, and it’s exciting to watch you three moths circling the flame of life.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Gyoko laughed softly. “Thank you, Lady.” Controlled now, she said with complete sincerity, “Very well, I’ll tell you the real reason. I need your help. Yes, Toranaga-sama won’t grant my request but perhaps you can think of a way. You’re the only chance I’ve ever had, that I’ll ever have in this lifetime, and I can’t release it lightly. There, now you know. Please, I humbly beg you to help me with my request.” She put both hands on the futons and bowed low. “Please excuse my impertinence, Lady Toda, but all that I have will be put at your side if you will help me.” Then she settled back on her heels, adjusted the folds of her kimono, and finished the saké.

Mariko tried to think straight. Her intuition told her to trust the woman but her mind was still partially befogged with her newfound insight into Toranaga and her relief that Gyoko had not denounced her as she had expected, so she decided to put that decision aside for later consideration. “Yes, I will try. You must give me time, please.”

“I can give you better than that. Here’s a fact: You know Amida Tong? The assassins?”

“What about them?”

“Remember the one in Osaka Castle, Lady? He went against the Anjin-san—not Toranaga-sama. Lord Kiyama’s chief steward gave two thousand koku for that attempt.”

“Kiyama? But why?”

“He’s Christian, neh? The Anjin-san was the enemy even then, neh? If then, what about now? Now that the Anjin-san’s samurai, and free, with his ship.”

“Another Amida? Here?”

Gyoko shrugged. “Who knows? But I wouldn’t give an eta’s loincloth for the Anjin-san’s life if he’s careless outside the castle.”

“Where is he now?”

“In his quarters, Lady. You’re going to visit him soon, neh? Perhaps it’d be as well to warn him.”

“You seem to know everything that’s going on, Gyoko-san!”

“I keep my ears open, Lady, and my eyes.”

Mariko curbed her anxiety over Blackthorne. “Did you tell Toranaga-sama?”

“Oh yes, I told him that.” The corners of Gyoko’s eyes crinkled and she sipped her saké. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think he was surprised. That’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps you were mistaken.”

“Perhaps. In Mishima I heard a rumor that there was a poison plot against Lord Kiyama. Terrible, neh?”

“What plot?”

Gyoko told her the details.

“Impossible! One Christian daimyo would never do that to another!”

Mariko filled the cups.

“May I ask what else was said, by you and by him?”

“Part of it, Lady, was my plea to get back into his favor and out of that flea-sack inn, and to that he agreed. Now we’re to have proper quarters within the castle, near the Anjin-san, in one of the guest houses and I may come and go as I wish. He asked Kiku-san to entertain him tonight and that’s another improvement, though nothing will get him out of his melancholia. Neh?” Gyoko was watching Mariko speculatively. Mariko kept her face guileless, and merely nodded. The other woman sighed and continued, “Yes, he’s very sad. Pity. Part of the time was spent on the three secrets. He asked me to repeat what I knew, what I’d told you.”

Ah, Mariko thought, as another clue fell neatly into its slot. Ochiba? So that was Zataki’s bait. And Toranaga’s also got a cudgel over Omi’s head if needed, and a weapon to use against Onoshi with Harima, or even Kiyama.

“You smile, Lady?”

Oh yes, Mariko wanted to say, wanting to share her elation with Gyoko. How valuable your information must have been to our Master, she wanted to tell Gyoko. How he should reward you! You should be made a daimyo yourself! And how fantastic Toranaga-sama is to have listened, apparently so unconcernedly. How marvelous he is!

But Toda Mariko-noh-Buntaro only shook her head and said calmly, “I’m sorry your information didn’t cheer him up.”

“Nothing I said improved his humor, which was dull and defeated. Sad, neh?”

“Yes, so sorry.”

“Yes.” Gyoko sniffed. “Another piece of information before I go, to interest you, Lady, to cement our friendship. It’s very possible the Anjin-san is very fertile.”

“What?”

“Kiku-san’s with child.”

“The Anjin-san?”

“Yes. Or Lord Toranaga. Possibly Omi-san. All were within the correct time span. Of course she took precautions after Omi-san as usual, but as you know, no method is perfect, nothing is ever guaranteed, mistakes happen, neh? She believes she forgot after the Anjin-san but she’s not sure. That was the day the courier arrived at Anjiro, and in the excitement of leaving for Yokosé and of Lord Toranaga’s buying her contract—it’s understandable, neh?” Gyoko lifted her hands, greatly perturbed. “After Lord Toranaga, at my suggestion, she did the reverse. Also we both lit incense sticks and prayed for a boy.”

Mariko studied the pattern on her fan. “Who? Who do you think?”

“That’s the trouble, Lady. I don’t know. I’d be grateful for your advice.”

“This beginning must be stopped. Of course. There’s no risk to her.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, Kiku-san does not agree.”

“What? I’m astonished, Gyoko-san! Of course she must. Or Lord Toranaga must be told. After all, it happened before he—”

“Perhaps it happened before him, Lady.”

“Lord Toranaga will have to be told. Why is Kiku-san so disobedient and foolish?”

“Karma, Lady. She wants a child.”

“Whose child?”

“She won’t say. All she said was that any one of the three had advantages.”

“She’d be wise to let this one go and be sure next time.”

“I agree. I thought you should know in case . . . There are many, many days before anything shows or before a miscarriage would be a danger to her. Perhaps she will change her mind. In this I cannot force her. She’s no longer my property, though for the time being I’m trying to look after her. It would be splendid if the child was Lord Toranaga’s. But say it had blue eyes. . . . A last piece of advice, Lady: Tell the Anjin-san to trust this Uraga-noh-Tadamasa only so far, and never in Nagasaki. Never there. That man’s final allegiance will always be to his uncle, Lord Harima.”

“How do you find out these things, Gyoko-san?”

“Men need to whisper secrets, Lady. That’s what makes them different from us—they need to share secrets, but we women only reveal them to gain an advantage. With a little silver and a ready ear—and I have both—it’s all so easy. Yes. Men need to share secrets. That’s why we’re superior to them and they’ll always be in our power.”