Shogun - Clavell James (бесплатные полные книги .TXT) 📗

This isn't the work of a defeated man, Toranaga told himself as he sealed the scroll. Zataki will know that instantly. Yes, but now the trap's baited. Shinano's athwart my only road, and Zataki's the initial key to the Osaka plains.

Is it true that Zataki wants Ochiba? I risk so much over the supposed whispers of a straddled maid and grunting man. Could Gyoko be lying for her own advantage, that impertinent bloodsucker! Samurai? So that's the real key to unlock all her secrets.

She must have proof about Mariko and the Anjin-san. Why else would Mariko put such a request to me? Toda Mariko and the barbarian! The barbarian and Buntaro! Eeeee, life is strange.

Another twinge over his heart wracked him. After a moment he wrote the message for a carrier pigeon and plodded up the stairs to the loft above. Carefully he selected a Takato pigeon from one of the many panniers and slid the tiny cylinder home. Then he put the pigeon on the perch, in the open box that would allow her to fly off at first light.

The message asked his mother to request safe passage for Buntaro, who had an important dispatch for her and his brother. And he had signed it like the offer, Yoshi Toranaga-noh-Minowara, claiming that mantle for the first time in his life.

"Fly safe and true, little bird," he said, caressing her with a fallen feather. "You carry a heritage of ten thousand years."

Once more his eyes went to the city below. The smallest bar of light appeared on the west horizon. Down by the docks he could see the pinpricks of flares that surrounded the barbarian ship.

There's another key, he thought, and he began to rethink the three secrets. He knew he had missed something.

"I wish Kiri were here," he said to the night.

Mariko was kneeling in front of her polished metal mirror. She looked away from her face. In her hands was the dagger, catching the flickering oil light.

"I should use thee," she said, filled with grief. Her eyes sought the Madonna and Child in the niche beside the lovely spray of flowers, and filled with tears. "I know suicide's a mortal sin, but what can I do? How can I live with this shame? It's better for me to do it before I'm betrayed."

The room was quiet like the house. This was their family house, built within the innermost ring of defenses and the wide moat around the castle, where only the most favored and trusted hatamoto were allowed to live. Circling the house was a bamboo-walled garden and a tiny stream ran through it, tapped from the abundance of waters surrounding the castle.

She heard footsteps. The front gate creaked open and there was the sound of servants rushing to greet the master. Quickly she put the knife away in her obi and dried her tears. Soon there were footsteps and she opened her door, bowing politely.

In ill humor, Buntaro told her Toranaga had changed his mind again, that now he was ordered to Mishima temporarily. "I'll leave at dawn. I wanted to wish you a safe journey-" He stopped and peered at her. "Why are you crying?"

"Please excuse me, Sire. It's just because I'm a woman and life seems so difficult for me. And because of Toranaga-sama."

"He's a broken reed. I'm ashamed to say it. Terrible, but that's what he's become. We should go to war. Far better to go to war than to know the only future I've got is to see Ishido's filthy face laughing at my karma!"

"Yes, so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help. Would you like sake or cha?"

Buntaro turned and bellowed at a servant who was waiting in the passageway. "Get sake! Hurry up!"

Buntaro walked into her room. Mariko closed the door. Now he stood at the window looking up at the castle walls and the donjon beyond.

"Please don't worry, Sire," she said placatingly. "The bath's ready and I've sent for your favorite."

He kept his eyes on the donjon, seething. Then he said, "He should resign in Lord Sudara's favor if he's not got the stomach for leadership anymore. Lord Sudara's his son and legal heir, neh? Neh?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Yes. Or even better, he should do as Zataki suggested. Commit seppuku. Then we'd have Zataki and his armies fighting with us. With them and the muskets we could smash through to Kyoto, I know we could. Even if we failed, better that than give up like filthy, cowardly Garlic Eaters! Our Master's forfeited all rights. Neh? NEH?" He whirled on her.

"Please excuse me - it's not for me to say. He's our liege lord."

Buntaro turned back again, brooding, to stare at the donjon. Lights flickered on all levels. Particularly the sixth. "My advice to his Council is to invite him to depart, and if he won't - to help him. There's precedent enough! There are many who share my opinion, but not Lord Sudara, not yet. Maybe he does secretly, who knows about him, what he's really thinking? When you meet his wife, when you meet Lady Genjiko, talk to her, persuade her. Then she'll persuade himshe leads him by the nose, neh? You're friends, she'll listen to you. Persuade her."

"I think that would be very bad to do, Sire. That's treason."

"I order you to talk to her!"

"I will obey you."

"Yes, you'll obey an order, won't you?" he snarled. "Obey? Why are you always so cold and bitter? Eh?" He picked up her mirror and shoved it up to her face. "Look at yourself!"

"Please excuse me if I displease you, Sire." Her voice was level and she stared past the mirror to his face. "I don't wish to anger you."

He watched her for a moment then sullenly tossed the mirror back onto the lacquered table. "I didn't accuse you. If I thought that I'd . . . I wouldn't hesitate. " Mariko heard herself spit back, unforgivably, "Wouldn't hesitate to do what? Kill me, Sire? Or leave me alive to shame me more?"

"I didn't accuse you, only him!" Buntaro bellowed.

"But I accuse you!" she shrieked in return. "And you did accuse me!"

"Hold your tongue!"

"You shamed me in front of our lord! You accused me and you won't do your duty! You're afraid! You're a coward! A filthy, garlic-eating coward!"

His sword came out of its scabbard, and she gloried in the fact that at least she had dared to push him over the brink.

But the sword remained poised in the air. "I . . . I have your . . . I have your promise before your . . . your God, in Osaka. Before we . . . we go into death . . . I have your promise and I . . . I hold you to that!"

Her baiting laugh was shrill and vicious. "Oh yes, mighty Lord. I'll be your cushion just once more, but your welcome will be dry, bitter, and rancid!"

He hacked blindly with all his two-handed strength at a corner post and the blade sliced almost totally through the foot-thick seasoned beam. He tugged but the sword held fast. Almost berserk, he twisted it and fought it and then the blade snapped. With a final curse he hurled the broken haft through the flimsy wall and staggered drunkenly for the door. The quavering servant stood there with the tray and sake. Buntaro smashed it out of his hands. Instantly the servant knelt, put his head on the floor, and froze.

Buntaro leaned on the shattered door frame. "Wait . . . wait till Osaka. " He groped out of the house.

For a time, Mariko remained immobile, seemingly in a trance. Then the color began to return to her cheeks. Her eyes focused. Silently she returned to her mirror. She studied her reflection for a moment. Then, quite calmly, she finished applying her makeup.

Blackthorne ran up the stairs two at a time, his guard with him. They were on the main staircase within the donjon and he was glad to be unencumbered by his swords. He had formally surrendered them in the courtyard to the first guards, who had also searched him politely but thoroughly. Torches lit the staircase and the landings. On the fourth landing he stopped, almost bursting with pent-up excitement, and called back, "Mariko-san, are you all right?"