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Authors: James Clavell

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“It will create trouble between the Shōgunate and gai-jin,” Katsumata said. He was a thin, steel-hard man, a master swordsman and the most famous of all
Sensei—
teachers—of martial arts in Satsuma province. “The more those dogs are in conflict the sooner they will clash, the sooner the clash the better, for that will help bring down the Toranagas and their puppets at last, and let you install a new Shōgunate, a new Shōgun, new officials, with
Satsuma preeminent and yourself one of a new
roju.” Roju
was another name for the Council of Five Elders that ruled in the name of the Shōgun.

One of the
roju?
Why only one? Sanjiro thought secretly. Why not Chief Minister? Why not Shogun—I have all the necessary lineage. Two and a half centuries of Toranaga Shōguns is more than enough. Nobusada, the fourteenth, should be the last—by my father’s head,
will be the last!

This Shōgunate had been established by the warlord Toranaga in 1603 after winning the battle of Sekigahara, where his legions took forty thousand enemy heads. With Sekigahara he eliminated all practical opposition and, for the first time in history, had subdued Nippon, the Land of the Gods, as Japanese called their country, and brought it under one rule.

At once this brilliant general and administrator, now holding absolute temporal power, gratefully accepted the title Shōgun, the highest rank a mortal could have, from a powerless Emperor—which confirmed him, legally, as Dictator. Quickly he made his Shōgunate hereditary, at once decreeing that, in future,
all
temporal matters were the sole province of the Shōgun, all spiritual matters the Emperor’s.

For the last eight centuries the Emperor, the Son of Heaven, and his court had lived in seclusion in the walled Imperial Palace at Kyōto. Once a year, only, he came outside the walls to visit the sacred Ise shrine, but even then he was hidden from all eyes, his face never seen in public. Even inside the walls he was screened from all but his most immediate family by zealous, hereditary officials and ancient, mystic protocols.

Thus the warlord who had physical possession of the Palace Gates decided who went in and who came out, had de facto possession of the Emperor and his ear, and thus his influence and power. And though all Japanese absolutely believed him to be divine, and accepted him as the Son of Heaven, and descended from the Sun Goddess in an unbroken line since time began, by historic custom the Emperor and his court retained no armies, and had no revenue other than that granted by the warlord at his Gates—yearly at the man’s whim.

For decades Shōgun Toranaga, his son and grandson, ruled with wise though ruthless control. Following generations loosened their hold, lesser officials usurped more and more power, gradually making their own offices hereditary too. The Shōgun remained titular head but, over a century or more, had become a puppet—but always and only selected from the Toranaga line, as was the Council of Elders. The present Shōgun, Nobusada, was chosen four years ago when he was twelve.

And not long for this earth, Sanjiro promised himself, and came back to the present problem which disturbed him. “Katsumata, the killings, though merited, may provoke the gai-jin too much and that would be bad for Satsuma.”

“I do not see any bad, Sire. The Emperor wants the gai-jin expelled, as
you do, as do most daimyos. That the two samurai are Satsumas will also please the Emperor. Do not forget your mission to Yedo was accomplished perfectly.”

Three months ago Sanjiro had persuaded Emperor Komei, through intermediaries at the Imperial court in Kyōto, personally to sign several “wishes” Sanjiro had suggested, and to appoint him escort to an Imperial Messenger who would formally deliver the scroll in Yedo which would ensure its acceptance—a “wish” of the Emperor, if accepted, was difficult to refuse, sometimes. For the last two months he had led the negotiations and as much as the Elders and their Bakufu officials twisted and turned, he had dominated them and now had their written assent to certain reforms bound to weaken the whole Shōgunate. Importantly he now had their formal consent to cancel the hated Treaties, signed against the Emperor’s wishes, to expel the hated gai-jin and to close the land as it was before the unwelcome arrival and forced entry of Perry.

“Meanwhile, what about those two fools who broke ranks and killed without orders?” Sanjiro asked.

“Any act that embarrasses the Bakufu helps you.”

“I agree the gai-jin were provocative. Those vermin had no right to be anywhere near me. My banner and the Imperial banner were in the front rank forbidding it.”

“So let the gai-jin bear the consequences of their act: they forced their way onto our shores against our wishes and have the Yokohama foothold. With the men we have now, and a surprise attack by night, we could obliterate the Settlement and burn the surrounding villages easily. We could do it tonight and solve the problem permanently.”

“Yokohama, yes, with a sudden attack. But we cannot get at their fleets, we cannot squash them and their cannon.”

“Yes, Sire. And the gai-jin would retaliate at once. Their fleet would bombard Yedo and destroy it.”

“I agree, and the sooner the better. But that would not destroy the Shōgunate and after Yedo they would go against me, they would attack my capital, Kagoshima. I cannot risk that.”

“I believe Yedo would satisfy them, Sire. If their base is burnt they would have to go back aboard their ships and sail away, back to Hong Kong. Sometime in the future they may come back, but then they must land in strength to erect a new base. Worse for them, they must use land forces to maintain it.”

“They humbled China. Their war machine is invincible.”

“This isn’t China and we are not mealymouthed, cowardly Chinese to be bled to death or frightened to death by these carrion. They say they just want to trade. Good, you want to trade too, for guns, cannon and ships.” Katsumata smiled and added delicately, “I suggest if we burn and destroy
Yokohama—of course, we pretend the attack is at the Bakufu’s request, the Shōgun’s request—when the gai-jin return,
whoever controls the Shōgunate then
would reluctantly agree to pay a modest indemnity and, in return, the gai-jin will happily agree to tear up their shameful Treaties and trade on any terms we decide to impose.”

“They would attack us at Kagoshima,” Sanjiro said. “We could not repel them.”

“Our bay is hazardous for shipping, not open like Yedo; we have secret shore batteries, secret Dutch cannon; we grow stronger every month. Such an act of war by gai-jin would unite all daimyo, all samurai, and the whole land into an irresistible force under your banner. Gai-jin armies cannot win on land. This is the Land of the Gods, the gods will come to our aid too,” Katsumata said fervently, not believing it at all, manipulating Sanjiro as he had done for years. “A divine wind, a kamikaze wind, destroyed the armadas of the Mongol Kublai Khan six hundred years ago, why not again?”

“True,” Sanjiro said. “The gods saved us then. But gai-jin are gai-jin and vile and who knows what mischief they can invent? Foolish to invite a sea attack until we’ve warships—though, yes, the gods are on our side and will protect us.”

Katsumata laughed to himself. There are no gods, any gods, or heaven, or life after death. Stupid to believe otherwise, stupid gai-jin and their stupid dogma. I believe what the great Dictator General Nakamura said in his death poem,
From nothing into nothing, Osaka Castle and all that I have ever done is but a dream within a dream
. “The gai-jin Settlement is within your grasp like never before. Those two youths awaiting judgment pointed a way. I beg you take it.” He hesitated and dropped his voice even more. “Rumor has it, Sire, secretly they are
shishi.”

Sanjiro’s eyes narrowed even more.

Shishi—men of spirit, so called because of their bravery and deeds—were young revolutionaries who were spearheading an unheard-of revolt against the Shōgunate. They were a recent phenomenon, thought to number only about a hundred and fifty throughout the land.

To the Shōgunate and most daimyos they were terrorists and madmen to be stamped out.

To most samurai, particularly rank-and-file warriors, they were loyalists waging an all-consuming battle for good, wanting to force the Toranagas to relinquish the Shōgunate and restore all power to the Emperor, from whom, they fervently believed, it had been usurped by the warlord Toranaga, two and a half centuries ago.

To many commoners and peasants and merchants, and particularly to the Floating World of geishas and Pleasure Houses, shishi were the stuff of legends, sung about, wept over, and adored.

All were samurai, young idealists, the majority coming from the fiefs
of Satsuma, Choshu and Tosa, a few were fanatic xenophobes, most were ronin—wave men, because they were as free as the waves—masterless samurai, or samurai who had been outcast by their lord for disobedience, or a crime, and had fled their province to escape punishment, or those who had fled by choice, believing in a new, outrageous heresy: that there could be a higher duty than that due their lord, or their family,
a duty to the ruling Emperor alone
.

A few years ago the growing shishi movement had formed themselves into small, secret cells, committing themselves to rediscover
bushido—
ancient samurai practices of self-discipline, duty, honor, death, swordsmanship and other warlike pursuits, arts long since lost—except for a few Sensei who had kept bushido alive. Lost because for the last two and a half centuries Japan had been at peace under rigid Toranaga rule that forbade warlike pursuits, where, for centuries before, there had been total civil war.

Cautiously the shishi began to meet and discuss and to plan. Swords manship schools became centers of discontent. Zealots and radicals appeared in their midst, some good, some bad. But one common thread joined them—all were fanatically anti-Shōgunate, and opposed to allowing Japanese ports to be opened to foreigners and foreign trade.

To this end, for the last four years, they had waged sporadic attacks on gai-jin, and begun to articulate an unprecedented, all-out revolt against the legal ruler, Shōgun Nobusada, the all-powerful Council of Elders and Bakufu that in theory did his bidding, regulating all aspects of life.

The shishi had conjured up an all-embracing slogan,
Sonno-joi:
Honor the Emperor and Expel the Barbarians, and had sworn, whatever the cost, to remove anyone in the way.

“Even if they are shishi,” Sanjiro said angrily, “I cannot allow such a public disobedience to go unpunished, however merited—I agree those gai-jin should have dismounted and knelt, as customary, and behaved like civilized persons; yes, it was they who provoked my men. But that does not excuse those two.”

“I agree, Sire.”

“Then give me your advice,” he said irritably. “If they’re shishi as you say and I crush them, or order them to commit seppuku, I will be assassinated before the month is out, however many my guards—don’t attempt to deny it, I
know
. Disgusting their power is so strong though most are common
goshi.”

“Perhaps that is their strength, Sire,” Katsumata had replied. Goshi were the lowest rank of samurai, their families mostly penniless country samurai, hardly more than the warrior peasants of olden times with almost no hope of getting an education, therefore no hope of advancement, no hope of getting their views acted upon, or even heard by officials of low rank, let alone daimyo. “They’ve nothing to lose but their lives.”

“If anyone has a grievance I listen, of course I listen. Special men get special education, some of them.”

“Why not allow them to lead the attack on the gai-jin?”

“And if there is no attack? I cannot hand them over to the Bakufu, unthinkable, or to the gai-jin!”

“Most shishi are just young idealists, without brains or purpose. A few are troublemakers and outlaws who are not needed on this earth. However, some could be valuable, if used correctly—a spy told me the oldest, Shorin, was part of the team that assassinated Chief Minister Ii.”

“So ka!”

This had occurred four years ago. Against all advice, Ii, who was responsible for maneuvering the boy Nobusada to be Shōgun, had also suggested a highly improper marriage between the boy and the Emperor’s twelve-year-old half sister, and, worst of all, had negotiated and signed the hated Treaties. His passing was not regretted, especially by Sanjiro.

“Send for them.”

Now in the audience room a maid was serving Sanjiro tea. Katsumata sat beside him. Around stood ten of his personal bodyguard. All were armed. The two youths kneeling below and in front of him were not, though their swords lay on the tatami within easy reach. Their nerves were stretched but they showed none of it. The maid bowed and left, hiding her fear.

Sanjiro did not notice her going. He lifted the exquisite little porcelain cup from the tray, sipped the tea. The tea’s taste was good to him and he was glad to be ruler and not ruled, pretending to study the cup, admiring it, his real attention on the youths. They waited impassively, knowing the time had come.

He knew nothing about them except what Katsumata had told him: that both were goshi, foot soldiers like their fathers before them. Each had a stipend of one
koku
yearly—a measure of dry rice, about five bushels, considered enough to feed one family for one year. Both came from villages near Kagoshima. One was nineteen, the other, who had been wounded and now had his arm bound, was seventeen. Both had been to the select samurai school at Kagoshima that gave extra training, including studies of carefully chosen Dutch manuals, which he had begun twenty years ago for those showing special aptitudes. Both had been good students, both were unmarried, both spent their spare time perfecting their swordsmanship and learning. Both were eligible for promotion sometime in the future. The older was called Shorin Anato, the younger Ori Ryoma.

The silence became heavier.

Abruptly he began talking to Katsumata as though the two youths did not exist: “If any of my men, however worthy, however much provoked,
whatever the reason, were to commit a violent act that I had not authorized and they remained within my reach, I would certainly have to deal with them severely.”

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