The four samurai stopped under a maple, looking at the city arrayed in the afternoon light below. Bright-colored leaves shook in the slight breeze. Now and then a leaf spiraled gently to the ground in a dance of death and renewal.
Yabu scratched his chin and ran a finger down the scar on his cheek, turning his head to glance at the other men.
"Jiro-san, Junzo-san, Saburo-san; have you ever been to Kyoto before?"
Junzo nodded in the negative. Simple awe filled his eyes as he took in the massive sight.
"I have not, Yabu-san," answered Saburo while admiring the view, "but I am well pleased to have made the journey now."
"Neither have I Yabu-san." Jiro shooked his head slowly, wincing slighty at the action. "I... uh... I have never left Ariki before this." He looked at the expanse of Kyoto below him, "I feel uncomfortable going into such a large city unarmed... I feel almost defenseless without my naginata."
Yabu nodded. "I am not fully comfortable without my yari, also. But there are several thousand Hochiwara in Kyoto, serving the Shogun, and they would look ill upon us if we carried more than our swords in Kyoto."
Saburo grinned at Yabu. "Very true. Myself, I do not challenge the authority of any city that has more than, say, a thousand Hochiwara. But I am comfortable enough with my swords."
Yabu grinned back. "Ah, I see you have experience with the Hochiwara, to be so cautious."
"The first hundred or so are easy," explained Saburo, "after that there is little room to swing the longer weapons anyways."
A smile crossed Junzo's face at the light banter.
The four samurai started down the road, and Yabu spoke again for the benefit of his less well-travelled companions.
"Kyoto is unlike any other city in Japan. In my travels I have been here before, but I would not say I know it well. Here is the court of the Emperor, and often that of the Shogun as well, and the bakufu government. There are a thousand temples, and a myriad priests, clerks, bureacrats, and samurai hoping for preferment. It is a city of temples, a city of politics, where an unguarded word can be more dangerous than a sword or poisoned knife. "
"True words," said Saburo, speaking more to himself than the others, "and the unguarded word wounds not just the speaker, but all associated with him. I will be watching my tongue for sure."
Yabu nodded. "Getting access to the favored consort of the Emperor will be very difficult. We must follow the plan we came up with on the road -- Saburo will attempt to follow the path of philosophy, I that of poetry, and Junzo will seek out courtesans attempting to find contacts that might lead behind the Emperor's wall."
"Yes, I am hoping to gain the company of a priest that may pass through the walls of the court." Saburo then turned to face Junzo with a straight face, "My task is not as difficult as Junzo's, but I'm sure he knows best when to plow the fields, though I had not thought fall to be a good time to plant seeds."
Junzo cast a stern look at Saburo as the group walked down the road. "What I do, I do because it has to be done. Think on _that_, Saburo-san," said Junzo.
Saburo bowed to Junzo and replied formally, "I find your dedication to duty most admirable."
"Jiro," Yabu said, "I respectfully submit that you would do best to rest and recover for a week or so. Your wound is not dreadful, but if it should turn bad you might become a liability. I mean no offense to your honour."
"No, there is no offense to my honor," Jiro bowed his head, "for your words are sensible. I plan to rest for a time before trying to accompany any of you on this mission."
Jiro found that the next week passed slowly. He spent most of the time in the inn's garden, recovering from the wounds he received fighting the horrific faceless ghost and his minions. Jiro played his flute and rested. He also found that soaking for long periods in the bath helped a great deal.
Within a week or two Jiro felt nearly fully recovered, with the only reminder of the grim battle several thin scars from the ninja's shuriken.
Saburo attempted the path of philosophy. Over the next few weeks he spent a great deal of time in discussions which seemed to have the aim of trying to kill one's opponents by boredom, which in the evenings tended to turn into drinking bouts (drinking is a well-known protection from death by boredom).
He quickly discovered that the general feeling among well-known philosophers was that the court was considered light and hedonistic. The court didn't support the temples as it used to, and the only priests who ever got inside were those rare ones with a reputation for extrordinary wisdom or for having magical powers.
Sodan, the old priest whose ghost the samurai had met, was one of the latter. Although Saburo met some priests who knew his name, they didn't know much more about him. He had come into town at least several times over the last decade, and was openly invited to court at least twice by minor officials since he had a reputation as a prophet and interpreter of dreams. Further, he may have made some secret visits for the purposes of fortune telling for higher-ups. He didn't have much to do with the urbane priests of the capital (who considered him a smelly backwoods rustic and probably a charlatan as well).
Similar approaches in the avenues of doctors and entertainers were also failures. The court had its own doctors and entertainers. People greatly skilled in some admired art were sometimes invited to entertain at court, but that was rare.
Yabu's experience with the poetic circles in Kyoto was nearly the same as Saburo's. Although poetry readings and poetry writing parties were common enough, it was rare for the poets inside court to venture outside, and hard to make a reputation enough to be invited inside court.
Worse still, poetry writing parties were as tied to drinking as the philosopher's debates Saburo frequented. Between Saburo's hangovers after late nights of philosophy, Yabu's hangovers after late nights of poetry, and Junzo's hangovers after late nights of debauchery, the inn was a grim place in the morning. On one particular morning Jiro started playing the flute a little earlier than was wise, and his life might have been over if his three companions had been capable of chasing him at more than a stagger.
After a week or so Yabu heard of a party where a minor functionary from the court named Choichi, well known for his poetry, was expected to be present. Some of Yabu's poems were moderately well known, and his name was enough to gain him an invitation. The party itself wasn't a tremendous success. Yabu attempted to gain the attention of Choichi by inserting subtle referents to the other's poetry in his own verse, but his attempt was too subtle, and not very successful. Still, he managed to speak a little with the courtier, and arrange for another meeting later.
The next day Yabu and Choichi hit it off, and for the first time the samurai felt that they had found a chink in the walls of the Emperor's court. But it was a very small chink, and the task of reaching the Emperor's favorite Consort seemed nearly impossible.
It took Junzo little time to find the `floating world'. Locals were used to directing travellers to it, and in Kyoto it largely consisted of inns and tea rooms along the main highway leading to the Coast and Osaka - along with salve sellers for footsore travellers, bathhouses and the booths of masseurs.
After finding the courtesan's world so easily, Junzo's initial questions in that arena were largely fruitless and frustrating. The courtesans of the floating world had no contact with court. The courtesans of court were a very different breed, highly born women of great beauty, prized for their refinement. They had seemed to have no interaction with the floating world at all, and Junzo's queries were greeted with laughter.
After several weeks of searching, Junzo was getting worn out. One more "teahouse" was as useless as the rest, with the girls giggling at the idea that they or any other courtesan from the floating world might ever see the inside of court.
A young boy followed him out of the teahouse. The boy had been trimming lamps in the inn, and overheard his question. He gave his name as Shikei, and claimed to be able to get Junzo access to court for a koku. When Junzo agreed, the boy's eyes got _very_ round and he willingly agreed to meet Junzo the next evening.
The next evening the boy's eyes grew huge when Junzo put a gold koku in his hand. He looked at it for a long moment. And then he was off like a flash, running down the street.
Junzo cursed and set out after him, weaving through the evening traffic. The little boy was fleet of foot and agile, but Junzo seemed to be keeping up with him when the boy ran half-way across a small bridge, looked down, then jumped over the edge.
Junzo ran up to the bridge and looked down. Below him was a small canal boat passing under the bridge, and the boy was running to the other end. Grabbing his swords in his hand, Junzo leaped after him.
The boat had rocked with the small boy landed on it; the oarsman shouted something when he saw Junzo leap, but it was too late. The weight of an adult warrior landing on the thin boat tipped it over, dumping everyone into the canal.
The canal was smelly, but shallow -- Junzo regained his feet on the mucky bottom and stood only waist deep in the oily water. Cursing more, he saw the bare feet of the boy disappear up the side of the canal wall and clambered after in pursuit.
Junzo managed to keep sight of the boy down the street, and the next, when in the deepening gloom the boy ran through the gate of a garden.
Junzo ran around the corner to bump into a warrior with daisho. The warrior barred his way with a staff, asking what the hurry was. The boy had disappeared, and the warrior (who was a woman) claimed not to have seen him. Fuming, Junzo controlled his temper and avoided rudeness that might have provoked a duel.
The warrior was slightly below average height and of fairly lean build, although her forearms are well muscled and her hands calloused. She was wearing a large straw hat, and slightly shabby clothes with no mon. In the conversation that insued it became clear that she was experienced in the ways of Kyoto, and Junzo finally decided to ask her if she would come by in the morning to discuss an offer of employment. Events had proven that a native or experienced guide would be invaluable.
The buke, Ozato Kitsune, came to the inn the next morning. She had very fine shoulder length hair which she wore loose, large mobile eyes, and a cheery disposition.
Kitsune laughed easily and a lot and seemed more at ease with common folk (on the street, in the inn) than is proper for a samurai - but maybe that was because she was a woman or a sophisticated city-dweller. When Jiro went out gambling with her a couple of nights he found that she liked to gamble (although was no real winner at it) and liked to drink - though not so much as to get incapable - and when she got drunk was prone to get a bit melancholy. He also noticed that she didn't seem to have a lot of time for self-important samurai (Jiro caught her making faces at one behind his back).
Over the next few days they got to test her mettle at duelling as well, and were very impressed. In combat, she was not as strong as the male samurai, but was very fast. Out of combat she always moved with a fair degree of grace. Yabu and Junzo had the experience to recognize her style as that of someone trained in Nitto Ryu (two sword fighting) and they could tell she had a very strong style, although she tended to fight defensively.
Nitto Ryu was a fairly difficult style. It was clear to Yabu and Junzo that she had been fighting for some time in the art, and had kept her skills honed; also, somewhere along the the line she either had a wealthy patron or family. Training at a school like Nitto Ryu is not offered to low rank buke or ronin, even if they could somehow afford it. It was very unusual for a female buke to train at a bujutsu school.
When Kitsune heard what the four samurai were attempting she was obviously surprised, but swiftly concealed it, and even seemed to enjoy the idea. After some thought she got the innkeeper to send some sort of a message, and a young girl appeared, took a note from Kitsune, and returned in about an hour with an address.
The address, Kitsune explained, is that of the lady Akiko, who ran a sort of court charm/training school for the daughters of samurai families. Lady Akiko had a large house near the Temple of the Reclining Buddha. Apparently the lady Akiko spent some years at the court as a lady in waiting and was afterwards unable or unwilling to go back to her clan.
When the samurai visited the house, the young man at the gate told them that lady Akiko was busy this evening. On Kitsune's advice they gave him a small bribe, and Kitsune arranged for the samurai to visit lady Akiko on a later evening. Over the next two days Kitsune advised them on the purchase of a suitable present of jewelery and a carved alabaster figure, and what to expect from the evening at lady Akiko's.
The evening at lady Akiko's was very pleasant (although expensive in bribes and gifts). The samurai discussed their plan with lady Akiko and were entertained by her proteges. Lady Akiko was initially dismissive of the idea, and the difficulty of getting near the Consort of the Emperor, but the combination of the samurai's fervor and the gift of the alabaster figure gradually won her over. The name of the priest Sodan seemed to help also -- she commented that she knew him, or knew of him. After some thought she agreed to pass on a message through a friend in the court.
Four days later the young man from lady Akiko's gate came to visit the samurai with a simple message -- "attend the Kyogen play in three days; sit in the balcony nearest the right-hand end of the stage."
Yabu had only been to a few Kyogen plays before; the other samurai had never been to one. Jiro, in particular, was as wide-eyed as a hick from the country at the fine clothing and graceful movements of the spectators, not to mention the complex and beautiful hairstyles of the ladies, veiled with gossamer silk. The mon of a dozen noble families were evident with a casual glance. The booth beside them had been empty since they arrived, and the play was to start soon.
Then the curtain twitched. Two impassive samurai moved from behind the curtain in the adjacent booth. Their eyes swept the booth, flicked over Yabu and his friends, and moved on. After them came a lady, swathed in the veils and encumbering hair of the court, and behind her two more samurai, clothed as the first pair.
The drama continued before them, and Yabu tried to hold his impatience in check until the moment was right. The lady sat on his left, only a pace or two away. Her four samurai guards were like statues.
After a while Yabu spoke to her, beginning with inconsequentials about the weather. He wracked his brain for a way to begin the conversation he wanted without offending; for determining who she was without driving her off. Finally a character part in the play, a priest, gave him an idea.
"Kyoto is very beautiful in the fall. I had heard it described so, but had not given the priest's word full credence. Now I know he spoke true, as indeed he also spoke of the beauty of the ladies who grace the Imperial Court."
The veiled lady smiled slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment, partly hidden behind her fan and obscured by her veil.
"Of the flowers in the garden of the Emperor, this priest spoke especially of the grace of Lady Namiko, the Consort of the Emperor"
The veiled lady turned slightly towards him, flashing him the same hint of a smile. "Ah, I will be sure to bring this compliment to my mistress, for I am a handmaiden of the same Lady Namiko."
Yabu bowed. "I but bring her the word of another; I have never been blessed to meet her."
"Who is this priest, who you speak of?"
"Sodan-sama; a very wise man."
"Ah yes! Sodan-sama has been to court; his wisdom is much respected there. Perhaps he can visit again?"
Yabu bowed regretfully. "Sodan-sama has returned to the wheel of rebirth. It is rare to meet one so wise; I feel myself blessed."
"Ah, so."
Yabu let the conversation lapse for some time before picking it up again.
"The coincidence of our meeting brings Sodan-sama to my mind again, noble lady. For the wise priest talked at some length of your Mistress, Lady Namiko."
The veiled lady half-turned towards him, the soul of politeness, eyebrows delicately raised in question. "Is that so?"
"I hope you will forgive me if I speak out of turn, but Sodan-sama was much impressed by your Mistress, and concerned for her."
Her eyebrows raised fractionally higher.
"It is the spirit of the wheel, that raises one up, then casts one down again, I suppose. One is reminded of the graceful Lady Nakoya, many years ago; favored Consort of the Emperor, but he passed on, and she was much reduced in influence and status."
"Luckily, our Emperor will live a long time yet before his next life calls him," the handmaiden said firmly. The four samurai surrounding her all nodded vigorously, although they kept their attention fixed on the play as if their lives depended on it.
"Yes, that is so," Yabu replied.
He waited some time before continuing. "And I am sure that the Emperor will soon bless her with a child, a son. For he has fathered sons before, even if not for a long time. The beauty of Lady Namiko is legendary, and certainly it will be soon that she gives the Emperor an heir."
"Certainly."
"After all, she has only been his consort for three years."
"Yes." The gentle voice still seemed untouched, just engaging in casual conversation.
Yabu waited a while longer, before beginning again.
"A recognized heir to the throne would place Lady Namiko in an unassailable position of influence, even though the Emperor will live a long time yet."
"Yes, that is so." Yabu thought he heard just a hint of curiosity in her tone now, although it might have been his imagination.
Yabu let the play continue for ten minutes longer before speaking again.
"Sodan-sama talked much of the wheel of fortune, in the last evening we had together. He spoke of another case, perhaps you might find it amusing?"
The veiled handmaiden turned ever-so-slightly towards Yabu, eyebrow slightly lifted again.
"There is a son of the Emperor living in Hikone, or near there. His name is Heihachiro. His mother was one of the Emperor's courtesans, but she lost favour many years ago, and died. He has no power, and no allies at court. The family of his mother are careful to provide him with the time and leisure to live a contemplative life, making sure that he is not disturbed by outside news, and protecting him from outside influence and turmoil.
"It is karma, I suppose," Yabu went on, "that this young lord and your mistress are two halves of the same problem. Your mistress is in a position of great power and influence. It is likely, should she have a son, that the Emperor's great love for her would lead him to make her son his heir. But she has no such son. On the other hand, the young lord is a son of the Emperor. If his mother still lived, and held the favour of the Emperor, he could easily become the heir. And if he were the heir, his mother would retain great power and influence even after the Emperor passes on, many years from now. But the young lord's mother is dead, and nobody has enough influence to have one of the Emperor's son's declared the heir. Nobody, of course, but your mistress."
The veiled lady looked full-on at Yabu for a long moment, eyes wide, before she recovered herself and looked back at the play. Her four samurai were rigidly focussed on the play.
"My lord, Arai Ogame, has a problem in some ways similar to this young lord's problem. His uncle, Togai, has usurped the lordship of his ancestral seat of Ariki by slaying his brother Tetsuo, the father of my lord. The loyal samurai of Arai have largely been slain."
The veiled handmaiden flipped her fan slightly, showing compassionate eyes. "It is a common enough story, in these troubled times. But I see the comparison -- without a patron at Court, it will be hard for your lord to raise troops or get permission to move them across the many holdings between here and Ariki province."
Yabu nodded. "Exactly."
They remained quiet until the play ended, and the audience hissed politely in approval.
As they rose, Yabu bowed deeply to the veiled lady, handmaiden to the Consort of the Emperor. "You have honored me with your conversation, Lady. I hope I will have the honor of meeting you again."
She bowed in return. "If you are visitors in Kyoto, you should certainly visit the Golden Temple. It is very beautiful - perhaps in three or four days, when the maple leaves will be at their brightest." Then she was gone, her escort with her.
Saburo waited until the lady and her escort were out of range before he leaned over to Yabu. "I have heard of the Golden Temple's beauty and hoped to be able to see it while we were here. I think I will take the lady's advice and see it next week."
Jiro grinned, "Do so, Saburo-san. That was the first place Kitsune-san took me when she showed me the city."
Yabu nodded. His knees shook slightly, and he wiped his forehead. "I've fought few duels as dangerous as this conversation. I do not think myself well suited for intrigue! Do you think it went well?"
Saburo nodded to Yabu. "You caught her interest well enough. That she did not dismiss you out of hand was a good omen. A lady in her position must be careful, so I do not think it unreasonable that she let you play your hand first. And you played it well, Yabu-san."
Yabu bowed. "I hope so. It seemed like a duel on a cliff, where I only had one thrust to give, and if it failed to hit then Lord Ogame's cause was doomed."
"Shall we all hope," said Junzo, "that day never dawns."
Yabu nodded. He rubbed his shoulders, looking at the crowd gradually clearing out of the theater. "I would be greatly in your debt, fellow warriors, if you would come with me to an inn where we can drink ourselves blind."
Saburo face lit up with a grin. "Ah! Still the master player, I see. An excellent move, General Yabu. Come, let us see if these two samurai are too worn from their respective wounds to do battle with the bottle. Personally, I fear for Junzo more than Jiro."
"Eh?" Jiro looked over questioningly, "And why should you fear for me, Saburo-san?"
"Well, your recent wounds seemed severe, but you seem to be much better now and they were merely wounds from the blade," explained Saburo. "But Junzo's faithful service risks his very heart and soul should he come across a particularly fetching lady. Still, he seems to be of strong heart and mind. I've no doubt he'll come through his duels unscarred."
Kitsune confirmed that the meeting at the Kyogen play had seemed to go very well. If someone showed up at the Golden Temple, it would be a sign that the Consort had heard of their plan, and was receptive to it. That would be a good opportunity for them to try to make her a gift of some sort.
Kitsune went with Junzo and Saburo to the shop of a noted jade importer; the Consort apparently was very fond of jade. Yabu concentrated on writing a poem to present with the gift. Later that afternoon the shoppers came back. Junzo was a little grey-faced, as the purchase of a pare of rare milk jade earings had taken forty-five koku; nearly half their funds for the whole enterprise. Kitsune nearly glowed -- the jade merchant had been so pleased with the sale of the earings that he had presented her with some simpler green jade earings as a gift.
Later Yabu was sitting in the little garden at the inn composing poetry when Kitsune came out.
"What engrosses you so, Yabu-san?"
Yabu looked up. "I am attempting to write a poem to accompany the gift to the Consort," he said.
"Oh. That's nice," Kitsune said politely. "Have you seen Jiro? I would like to go out gambling and drinking tonight."
Yabu shook his head negatively, and Kitsune left to search the younger man out. Yabu got the impression that she had found the idea of his poetry distasteful somehow, or perhaps presumptious, but he wasn't entirely sure.
Two days later Saburo was enjoying the leaves and the weather at the Golden Temple when a samurai approached him. It was one of the four samurai who had escorted the lady to the Kyogen play, and he greeted Saburo politely. After a bit of conversation he mentioned that he was going back to the court, and he could carry a message to the lady if there was any that they cared to send. Saburo passed on the small mulberry-paper package containing the poem and the earings and thanked him for his courtesy.
A week later a messenger came from Lady Akiko, inviting the samurai to visit her the next day. The visit was quite cordial, and Lady Akiko received them as friends in her garden. She smiled with pleasure at the small carved alabaster statue they brought, then signalled one of her young women forward. The young lady presented her a loosely rolled piece of silk, two hand spans across.
"Ah, samurai, it pleases me to present you with this small cloth, and I think it will please you as well."
Junzo took the cloth. It was very fine silk. He unrolled it carefully, revealing the design printed on it. It was a rubbing taken from an official seal of the Emperor. Like all such seals, the characters ran in a spiral pattern out from the center.
The seal declared the Emperor's intent to legalize Lady Namiko's adopted son, Heihachiro, as his heir.
The five samurai left Kyoto, walking quickly up a road strewn with gold and scarlet leaves.