Yoshi had noticed how very much Anjo had changed since the assassination attempt: now he was far more irascible, stubborn, his resolve weakened though his influence over the other Elders had not. "I don't agree but if you think we have insufficient forces let us order a general mobilization and let us finish the outside lords and any who join them!"
Toyama said, "War is the only way, Anjo-sama, forget shishi, forget gai-jin for the moment. The Gates--first we must repossess our hereditary rights."
Anjo had said, "We will, at the right time.
Next: the Shogun's visit will go forth as planned."
Over his further protests Anjo had again carried the vote, three to two, and in private had added malevolently, "I told you, Yoshi-dono, they will always vote with me, shishi will never succeed against me, nor will you, nor will anyone."
"Even Shogun Nobusada?"' "He... he is not an enemy and he takes my advice."
"And the Princess Yazu?"' "She will obey... she will obey her husband."
"She will obey her brother, the Emperor, until she dies."
To his shock Anjo had said with a twisted smile, "You propose an accident? Eh?"' "I propose nothing of the sort."
Yoshi felt chilled, afraid the man was becoming too dangerous to leave alive, already too powerful to neutralize, too farsighted, supported by a swarm of cohorts ready and able to swallow him up...
A silhouette was approaching the door, almost noiselessly. Without thinking his right hand went to his long sword that lay beside him even though he was sure he recognized her. The figure knelt.
Delicate knock.
"Yes?"
She slid the door back smiling, bowed and waited.
"Please come in, Koiko," he said, delighted with this unexpected visit, all his demons vanishing.
She obeyed, closed the door and ran over to him, her long, multipatterned kimono sibilant, knelt again and pressed her cheek to his hand, at once noticing the picture poem. "Good evening, Sire."
He laughed, and gave her a tender hug.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I missed you," she said simply. "May I see your poem?"
"Of course."
As she studied his work, he studied her, a constant pleasure for him in the thirty-four days she had been here within the castle walls.
Extraordinary clothes. Pure eggshell skin, shining raven hair that, when loosed, would reach to her waist, delicate nose, her teeth left white as were his and not blackened in Court fashion.
"Stupid!" his father had said to him as soon as he could understand. "Why should we blacken our teeth just because it's a Court custom started by an Emperor centuries ago whose teeth were old and rotting, who therefore decreed that dyed teeth were superior to having teeth like animals! And why use paints for our lips and cheeks as some still do because another wanted to be a woman and not a man, pretended to be one, and courtiers imitated him-her to curry favor."
Koiko was twenty-two years old, Tayu, the highest possible grade of geisha in the Willow World.
Hearing whispers about her and curious, some months ago he had sent for her, enjoyed her company and then, two months ago, had ordered her mama-san to submit a proposal for her services. Correctly the proposal had gone to his wife to deal with. His wife had written from Dragon's Tooth, their castle home: Beloved Husband, I have today concluded satisfactory arrangements with the mama-san for the Tayu Koiko of the House of Wisteria.
Sire, we considered it is better to have her exclusivity, than a first option on her services, and also safer as you are surrounded by enemies. At your whim the contract is renewable monthly, payment monthly in arrears to ensure that her services are maintained to the very high standard you should expect.
Your Consort and I are pleased that you have decided to have a toy, we were and are continually most concerned for your health and safety. May I compliment you on your choice, it is rumored that Koiko is rare indeed.
Your sons are well and happy, and your daughter and myself. We send our everlasting loyalty and long for your presence. Please keep me closely advised as I must direct our Paymaster to set aside funds ...
Correctly his wife had not mentioned the amount, nor would it concern him for that was a prime wifely function: to manage and guard the family wealth and pay all bills.
Koiko looked up. "Your poem is flawless, Yoshi-chan," she said and clapped her hands, the "chan" an intimate diminutive.
"You're flawless," he said hiding his pleasure at her judgment. Apart from her unique physical attributes, she was renown in Yedo for the quality of her calligraphy, the beauty of her poems, and shrewdness in art and politics.
"I adore the way you write, and the poem, it is superb. I adore the complexity of your mind, particularly why you chose "when" and not perhaps "now," and "twists" when a lesser man could use "moves" or the more blatant "stirs" which would give it sexual overtones. But the placement of your final word, the final "uneasily"--ah Yoshi-chan, how clever to use that word last, an underneath word, perfect.
Your creation is superb and can be read a dozen ways."
"And what do you think I'm saying?"
Her eyes lit. "First tell me if you intend to keep it--to keep it openly, secretly or to destroy it."
"What is my intention?" he asked, enjoying her.
"If you keep it openly, or pretend to hide it, or pretend it's secret, you plan it to be read by others who, one way or another, will inform your enemies, as you want."
"And what will they think?"
"All but the cleverest will presume that your resolve is weakening, your fears are beginning to overrun you."
"And the others?"
Koiko's eyes lost none of their amusement but he saw them pick up an added glint. "Of your chief adversaries," she said delicately, "Shogun Nobusada would interpret it that in your inner mind you agree with him that you are not strong enough to be a real threat, and he'll happily postulate it will become easier and easier to eliminate you the longer he waits. Anjo would be consumed with envy at your prowess as a poet and calligrapher and would sneer at the "uneasily," believing it to be unworthy and ill chosen, but the poem would obsess him, worrying him, particularly if it was reported as a secret document, until he would have eighty-eight inner meanings all of which would increase his implacable opposition to you."
Her openness dazzled him. "And if I kept it, secretly?"
She laughed. "If you wanted to keep it secret, then you would have burnt it at once and never shown it to me. Sad to destroy such beauty, so sad, Yoshi-chan, but necessary to a man in your position."
"Why? It's just a poem."
"I believe this one is special. It is too good. Such art comes from deep wells within. It reveals. Revelation is the purpose of poetry."
"Go on."
Her eyes seemed to change color as she wondered how far she dared go, always testing intellectual limits--to entertain and excite her patron, if that was his interest. He noticed the change but did not discern the reason.
"For example," she said easily, "to the wrong eyes it could be construed that your innermost thought was really saying: "The power of my ancestor namesake, Shogun Toranaga Yoshi, is within my grasp, begs to be used."
He watched her and she could not read his eyes.
Eeee, he was thinking, all his senses shrieking danger. Am I so apparent? Perhaps this lady is too perceptive to keep alive. "And the Princess Yazu? What would she think?"
"She's the cleverest of all, Yoshi-chan. But then you know that. She would realize the meaning instantly--if you have a special meaning." Again her eyes could not be read.
"And if as a present to you?"
"Then this unworthy person would be filled with joy to be given such a treasure--but in a quandary, Yoshi-chan."
"Quandary?"
"It is too special, to give or to receive."