Not even Ogama to know all of it, only the part to enmesh the Princess and have her divorced by Imperial "request." Ogama would see to it that she stayed out of the way until she was safely and permanently neutralized, content to live forever within the palace quagmire of poetry competitions, mysticism, and other world ceremonials. And a new husband. Ogama.
No, not Ogama, he thought, cynically amused, though of course I will propose the union. No, someone else, someone she will be content with--the Prince to whom she was once promised, and still honors. Ogama will be a fine ally. In many ways. Until he goes onwards.
Meanwhile there is no need to share an immortal truth I have discovered about gai-jin--with Ogama, Anjo or anyone: Gai-jin do not understand time as we do, they do not consider or think about time as we do. They think time is finite. We do not. They worry about time, minutes, hours, days --months are important to them, exact appointments sacrosanct. Not to us. Their version of time controls them. So this is one cudgel we can always use to beat them with.
He smiled to himself, loving secrets, dreaming of a thousand ways to use gai-jin time against real time to dominate them, and through them the future. Patience patience patience.
Meanwhile I still have our Gates, though Ogama's men control my men who guard our Gates. That does not matter. Soon we will possess them entirely, and the Son of Heaven. Again. Will I live to see that? If I do, I do, if I do not, I do not. Karma.
Koiko's laugh sent a chill down his spine: Ah Tora-chan you and karma! Startled, and he looked around. It wasn't her. The laughter came from the corridor, mixed with voices.
"Sire?"
"Come in," he said, recognizing Abeh.
Abeh strode in, leaving his others outside.
The guards relaxed. With Abeh was one of the household maids, a cheerful, middle-aged woman, carrying a tray and fresh tea. Both knelt, bowed. "Put the tray on the table," he said. The maid obeyed, smiling. Abeh stayed kneeling near the door. These were new orders: no one was to come within two metres without permission.
"What were you laughing at?"
To his surprise she said merrily, "At the giant gai-jin, Sire, I saw him in the courtyard, I thought I was seeing a kami--two in fact, Sire, the other one with yellow hair and blue eyes of a Siamese cat. Eeee, Sire, I had to laugh. Imagine, blue eyes! The tea's this season's, as you ordered.
Would like something to eat, please?"
"Later," he said and dismissed her, feeling calmer, her warm nature infectious. "Abeh, they are in the courtyard? What is happening?"
"Please excuse me, Sire, I do not know," Abeh said, still furious that yesterday Anjo had ordered them all away. "The Captain of the tairo's bodyguard came a moment ago and ordered... ordered me to conduct them back to Kanagawa. What should I do, Sire? You will of course want to see them first."
"Where is Tairo Anjo now?"
"I only know that the two gai-jin are to be taken back to Kanagawa, Sire. I asked the Captain how the examination went and he said insolently, "What examination?"' and left."
"Bring the gai-jin here." Soon there were heavy, foreign footsteps. A knock. "The gai-jin, Sire." Abeh stood aside and motioned Babcott and Tyrer forward, knelt and bowed.
They bowed standing, both unshaven and clearly tired.
Immediately one of the door guards angrily shoved Tyrer to his knees, sending him sprawling. The other guard tried the same with Babcott but the Doctor twisted with uncanny speed for such a huge man, grabbed the man by his clothes near his throat, one-handed, lifting him off his feet, slamming him back against the stone wall.
For a second he held the unconscious man there, then gently let him crumple to the floor.
In the shocked silence, Babcott said carelessly, "Gomen nasai, Yoshi-sama, but these twits shouldn't pick on guests.
Phillip, please translate that, and say I haven't killed him though the ill-mannered sod will have a headache for a week."
The other samurai were coming out of their trance and going for their swords. "Stop!" Yoshi ordered, furious with the gai-jin and furious with the guards.
They froze.
Weakly, Phillip Tyrer had picked himself up, ignored the inert guard and said in his quaint, halting Japanese, "Please excuse, Yoshi-sama, but Doctor-sama and I, we bow as foreign custom. Polite, yes? No mean harm. Doctor-sama say, Please excuse, man no dead only..." He searched for the word, could not find it, so he pointed at his head, "Pain, one week, two."
Yoshi laughed. Tension left the room.
"Take him away. When he wakes bring him back." He waved the others to their places and motioned the Englishmen to sit opposite him. When they had settled themselves awkwardly, he said, "How is the tairo, how did the examination go?"
At once Babcott and Phillip replied with simple words and gestures that they had agreed in advance, explaining that the examination went well, that the tairo had a bad hernia--a rupture--that Babcott could help relieve the pain with a truss and medication which would have to be made and fetched from the Settlement, that the tairo had agreed he should return in a week to fit it and bring the results of tests. Meanwhile, he had given him medication that would take most of the pain away and help him sleep.
Yoshi frowned. "This "hern'ah," it is permanent?"
"Doctor-sama say that--"
"I know the Doctor is talking through you, Taira," Yoshi snapped, displeased with what he had heard, "just translate his words without ceremonial titles!"
"Yes, Sire. He says damage is per'man'nt," a new word for him. "Tairo Anjo need... need medicine always stop pain, all time, sorry, each day time, and also use each day time this "truss."" Tyrer used the English word and with his hands, explained the belt and pressure point. "Doctor think tairo'-sama good if has care. No can... can not fight use sword easy."
Yoshi scowled, the results not heartening.
"How long..." He stopped and waved his guards out. "Wait outside." Abeh stayed. "You too." Reluctantly his Captain closed the door. Yoshi said, "The truth: How long will he live?"
"That only God says."
"Huh, gods! How long Doctor thinks tairo will live?"
Babcott hesitated. He had expected the tairo to order him not to speak to Yoshi but once he had told him about the hernia and medicine, and had given him some of his laudanum tincture which had relieved the pain almost at once, the tairo had chuckled and encouraged him to relate "the good news." But the hernia was only part of the problem.
His fuller diagnosis, one that he had not told Anjo, or Phillip Tyrer, wanting to reserve judgment until he had made an analysis of urine and stool samples, had consulted with Sir William and made a second examination, was that he was afraid there could be a dangerous deterioration of the intestines from unknown causes.
The physical had only taken an hour or so, the verbal probing many hours. At forty-six, Anjo was in bad condition. Teeth rotten, surely septicemia from those sooner or later.
Bad reactions to delicate probing of stomach and organs, obvious constrictions inside, very enlarged prostate.
Most of his diagnostic problem was due to his and Phillip's lack of fluency, because the patient was impatient, did not trust him yet, and was not forthcoming with symptoms or clues. It had taken much diligent questioning for him to probably establish the man experienced difficulties with bowel movements, passing urine and an inability to hold erections--which seemed to concern him the most --though Anjo had shrugged and would admit none of the symptoms outright.
"Phillip, tell Lord Yoshi I think he will live about the average for a man in his condition of the same age."
Tyrer's headache had returned, aided by his desperation to do a good job. "He live about same as man of same age."
Yoshi thought about that, also understanding the difficulties of probing delicate matters in a foreign language with inadequate interpretation. Therefore he must keep the questions simple. "Ask: two years, three years, one year?" He watched Babcott closely, not Tyrer.