The samurai galloped off. Omi sent the others back to the village, then dismounted and stood beside Blackthorne. “Yes, Anjin-san,” he said, “that’s an excellent thought. A good idea.”
“Idea? What idea?” Blackthorne asked innocently. “Just show place—think you want know place, neh? So sorry—don’t understand.”
Omi said, “Toranaga-sama lost his swords here. Swords very valuable. He’ll be happy to get them back. Very happy, neh?”
“Ah so! No my idea, Omi-san,” Blackthorne said. “Omi-san idea.”
“Of course. Thank you, Anjin-san. You’re a good friend and your mind’s fast. I should have thought of that myself. Yes, you’re a good friend and we’ll all need friends for the next few months. War’s with us now whether we want it or not.”
“Please? So sorry. I don’t understand, speak too fast. Please excuse.”
“Glad we’re friends—you and me. Understand?”
“Hai. You say war? War now?”
“Soon. What can we do? Nothing. Don’t worry, Toranaga-sama will conquer Ishido and his traitors. That’s the truth, understand? No worry, neh?”
“Understand. I go now, my house. All right?”
“Yes. See you at dawn. Again thank you.”
Blackthorne nodded. But he did not leave. “She’s pretty, neh?”
“What?”
“Kiku-san.” Blackthorne’s legs were slightly apart and he was poised to jump back and pull out the pistol, and aim it and fire it. He remembered with total clarity the unbelievable, effortless speed that Omi had used to decapitate the first villager so long ago, and he was ready as best he could be. He reasoned his only safety was to precipitate the matter of Kiku. Omi would never do it. Omi would consider such bad manners unthinkable. And, filled with shame at his own weakness, Omi would lock his very un-Japanese jealousy away into a secret compartment. Because it was so alien and shame-filled, this jealousy would fester until, when it was least expected, Omi would explode blindly and ferociously.
“Kiku-san?” Omi said.
“Hai.” Blackthorne could see that Omi was rocked. Even so he was glad he had chosen the time and the place. “She’s pretty, neh?”
“Pretty?”
“Hai.”
The rain increased. The heavy drops spattered the mud. Their horses shivered uncomfortably. Both men were soaked but the rain was warm and it ran off them.
“Yes,” Omi said. “Kiku-san is very pretty,” and followed it with a torrent of words Blackthorne did not fathom.
“No words enough now, Omi-san—not enough to speak clear now,” Blackthorne said. “Later yes. Not now. Understand?”
Omi seemed not to hear. Then he said, “There’s plenty of time, Anjin-san, plenty of time to talk about her, and about you and me and karma. But I agree, now is not the time, neh?”
“Think understand. Yes. Yesterday not know Omi-san and Kiku-san good friends,” he said, pressing the attack.
“She’s not my property.”
“Now know you and her very friends. Now—”
“Now leave. This matter is closed. The woman is nothing. Nothing.”
Stubbornly Blackthorne stayed where he was. “Next time I—”
“This conversation is over! Didn’t you hear? Finished!”
“Iyé! Iyé, by God!”
Omi’s hand went for his sword. Blackthorne leaped back two paces without realizing it. But Omi did not draw his sword and Blackthorne did not pull out his pistol. Both men readied, though neither wanted to begin. “What do you want to say, Anjin-san?”
“Next time, first I ask—about Kiku-san. If Omi-san say yes—yes. If no—no! Understand? Friend to friend, neh?”
Omi relaxed his sword hand slightly. “I repeat—she’s not my property. Thank you for showing me this place, Anjin-san. Good-by.”
“Friend?”
“Of course.” Omi walked over to Blackthorne’s horse and held the bridle. Blackthorne swung into the saddle.
He looked down at Omi. If he could have got away with it he knew he would have blown the samurai’s head off right now. That would be his safest course. “Good-by, Omi-san, and thank you.”
“Good-by, Anjin-san.” Omi watched Blackthorne ride off and did not turn his back until he was over the rise. He marked the exact place in the crevasse with some stones and then, in turmoil, squatted on his haunches to wait, oblivious of the deluge.
Soon Mura and the peasants arrived, bespattered with mud.
“Toranaga-sama fell into the crevasse exactly at this point, Mura. His swords are buried here. Bring them to me before sunset.”
“Yes, Omi-sama.”
“If you’d had any brains, if you were interested in me, your liege Lord, you would have done it already.”
“Please excuse my stupidity.”
Omi rode off. They watched him briefly, then spread themselves out in a circle around the stones, and began to dig.
Mura dropped his voice. “Uo, you’ll go with the baggage train.”
“Yes, Mura-san. But how?”
“I’ll offer you to the Anjin-san. He won’t know any different.”
“But his consort, oh ko, she will,” Uo whispered back.
“She’s not going with him. I hear her burns are bad. She’s to go by ship to Yedo later. You know what to do?”
“Seek out the Holy Father privately, answer any questions.”
“Yes.” Mura relaxed and began to talk normally. “You can go with the Anjin-san, Uo, he’ll pay well. Make yourself useful, but not too useful or he’ll take you all the way to Yedo.”
Uo laughed. “Hey, I hear Yedo’s so rich everyone pisses into silver pots—even eta. And the women have skins like sea foam with no pubics at all.”
“Is that true, Mura-san?” another villager asked. “They’ve no short hair?”
“Yedo was just a stinking little fishing village, nothing as good as Anjiro, when I was there the first time,” Mura told them, without stopping digging. “That was with Toranaga-sama when we were all hunting down the Beppu. We took more than three thousand heads between us. As to pubics, all the girls I’ve known had them, except one from Korea, but she said she’d had them plucked, one by one.”
“What some women will do to attract us, heh?” someone said.
“Yes. But I’d like to see that,” Ninjin said toothlessly. “Yes, I’d like to see a Jade Gate without a bush.”
“I’d gamble a boatload of fish against a bucket of shit that it hurt to pull out those hairs.” Uo whistled.
“When I’m a kami I’m going to inhabit Kiku-san’s Heavenly Pavilion! They say she was born perfumed and hairless!”
Amid laughter, Uo asked, “Did it make any difference, Mura-san, to attack the Jade Gate without the bush?”
“It was the nearest I ever got. Eeeeh! I got closer and deeper than ever before and that’s important, neh? So I know it’s always better for the girl to take off the bush though some are superstitious about it and some complain of the itch. It’s still closer for you and so closer for her—and getting close makes all the difference, neh?” They laughed and put their backs into the digging. The pit grew under the rain.
“I’ll wager the Anjin-san got plenty close last night for her to stand at the gateway like that! Eeee, what wouldn’t I give to have been him.” Uo wiped the sweat off his brow. Like all of them he wore only a loincloth and a bamboo, conical hat, and was barefoot.