by Gai-Jin(Lit)
Gates. They were tough young men, dressed as he was without armor and identification, formerly goshi--the lowest rank of samurai--now ronin, all more or less the same age, nineteen to twenty-two.
Only Saigo, eighteen, and Tora, seventeen, his Satsuma second in command, were younger. Drafts through rents in the window shivered them
--that and their tension.
With signs he motioned them to check their swords, shuriken and other lethal weapons--no need for words during the whole operation. As much as could be planned had been decided over the days.
They all agreed it was to be conducted in silence.
A glance out of the window. The sun was touching the horizon, sky clear. It was time.
Solemnly he bowed to them and they bowed to him.
He turned his attention back to the peasants.
"Three men will be outside," he said harshly,
"One rustle out of any of you until I get back and they'll fire the farm."
Again the old man whimpered.
Saigo gestured to the others. They followed him. So did the outside guard and the one on the corner. No turning back now. Those who were Buddhist had said a final prayer before a shrine, those who were Shinto had lit a last stick of incense and so joined their spirit with the thread of smoke that represented the fragility of life. All had written their death poems and sewn them to the breast of their tunics. Proudly they had given their correct fiefs, only the names were false.
Once in the alley they split up into pairs, each taking an independent route. Soon they were in position, crouched down in the tall weeds and coarse vegetation beside the perimeter fence at the back of the Inn, within sight of each other, Saigo at the southeast corner. The fence was three metres high and strongly made of giant bamboo and spiked at the top. By now shadows were losing form in the fading light.
Waiting. Heartbeats heavy in their chests, palms sweaty, the slightest rustle an enemy patrol. Strange, strong taste in every mouth.
Stabbing pains in the loins. Somewhere nearby a cricket began its urgent mating call, reminding Saigo of his death poem:
A cricket with its joy filled song,
Dies quickly anyway.
Better to be joy filled than sad.
He felt his eyes mist as the sky was misting.
So beautiful to be so happy yet so sad.
From inside the fence they could hear voices of servants, maids, occasionally samurai, the clatter of metal dishes for the kitchen area was not far away. In the distance a samisen and the singer.
Waiting. Sweat fell down Saigo's face.
Then he heard the approaching, barely perceptible rustle of a kimono and a girl whisper, "Blue
Rainbow... Blue Rainbow." Then silence.
Again sounds of the Inn.
At once he motioned to Tora, beside him.
Silently this youth hurried to the other units and gave them the words and came back again. At
Saigo's signal each pair found the ladders they had made, camouflaged and hidden in the wild undergrowth so carefully, set them against the fence.
Again he watched the sky. As the last thread of sunlight went, another signal and they went up and over the fence as one man, jumping to the ground that was soft and tilled, crouching motionlessly in the meticulous shrubbery but ready for an instant frontal attack.
Miraculously, no alarm yet. They looked up, warily. Ahead, sixty metres away, was the Sh@ogun's section, the thatched roofs showing just above the tall, thick hedge of hemlock, the roofs of the central sleeping section and bathhouses a little higher. The main entrance was well away from them, its doors still open. Everything exactly as they expected. Except for the guards, many more than planned for. Bile jumped into their mouths.
To their right were the main kitchens with great steaming cauldrons and massed staff--more guards there.
Left and all around the compound were a scattering of guest cottages, in other gardens with streams and bridges, each with a well-tended entrance path curling through the shrubs. Silence there and no lights within, just one lantern at the front veranda. More anguish, they had expected them to be occupied and to serve as cover and a necessary diversion.
Karma, Saigo thought. Even so our positions are as we predicted, so are those of the enemy, the plan is good and we know the password. During the previous two weeks, disguised as an ordinary samurai traveller, he had found the correct courtesan and inveigled his way into her emotions so that soon he had been taken on a secret guided tour of the grounds--even to the places where the
Hallowed Travellers were to rest.
"Why not?"' he had whispered, "Who will know?
They're not due here for days--ah you are so beautiful. Let us join where a Sh@ogun and a sister of the Son of Heaven will join--that will be something to whisper to our grandchildren, eh? I think I shall never leave you..."
It had been equally easy to find a bathhouse maid who was secretly fanatic for shishi, and to persuade her there was no risk to listen and whisper a few words into the night.
He felt Tora touch his arm. Anxiously the youth pointed. A patrol had come through the far gates. It began to circle the grounds. Small pools of light were beneath the lanterns.
Inevitably the patrol would come this way and be very close. His signal, the call of a night bird, gave the order.
At once they sank deeper into the foliage and kept their heads lowered, hardly breathing. The patrol approached, and then passed without seeing them--just as Katsumata had forecast when he had suggested their attack plan: "Initially it will be easy to be missed in the dark. Never forget surprise is with you. Your infiltration will be totally unexpected. Who would dare to attack the
Sh@ogun when he is surrounded by so many men? At a way station? Impossible! Remember, with stealth, surprise and ferocious speed two or three of you will reach the kernel--and one is enough."
Saigo watched the enemy marching away. A marvelous glow pervaded him and all his confidence returned. Another short wait until the enemy patrol had turned the corner, then he motioned for the attack teams to move into their predetermined positions. Protected from view by the shrubbery, four men slithered away to his right, two to his left. When all were in position, he took a deep breath to help slow his heartbeat. His signal, again the call of a night bird, gave the order to begin.
At once the pair on his far right eased out of the shrubs onto the path, adjusting the ties on their pantaloons, and began strolling away, their arms around each other as lovers will. Within moments they had been noticed by the guards at the nearest hedge.
"You two halt!"
The two youths obeyed and one called out,
"Blue Rainbow, Blue Rainbow, Lord
Sergeant" and both laughed, pretending to be shy at being seen, then continued to stroll away, hand in hand.
"Halt! Who are you?"
"Ah, so sorry, just friends on a nightly stroll," the youth said in his softest, most gentle voice, "Blue Rainbow, have you forgotten our password?"
One of the samurai laughed and said, "If the
Captain catches you "strolling" in the bushes around here you'll get more than a Blue Rainbow and both pairs of cheeks will know another type of beating!"
Again both youths pretended to laugh.
Unhurried, they walked away, ignoring more strident calls to stop. Finally the Sergeant shouted, "You two. Come here, at once!" They faced him a moment, calling out plaintively there was no harm in what they were doing. Saigo and the others, covered by the diversion had been crawling into final positions. Taut with excitement that they had not been noticed, they rested a second, knowing this diversion was almost over. The sound of the night bird Saigo made this time was loud enough to reach the two youths.
Without hesitation, they pretended to laugh and ran off gaily, hand in hand, directly away from the guards as though playing a game. Their path carelessly took them through a pool of light and allowed them to be seen clearly for the first time. With a shout of rage the Serg
eant and four men charged in pursuit. Sentries at the far main gate peered into the darkness to see what was happening, and those guards at the hedge who could see beckoned others nearby, all of them alert.
The two shishi were quickly surrounded. Back to back, swords ready, they stood silently at bay under a barrage of questions, nothing effeminate now in their stance or the way their lips were drawn back from the teeth.
Enraged, the Sergeant stepped forward a pace.
The youth opposing him readied. His right hand darted into his sleeve and came out with a shuriken and before the
Sergeant could duck or move aside the five-pointed circle of steel was embedded in his throat and he fell burbling, choking in his own blood. Both shishi leapt to the attack but neither could break out of the net and though they fought bravely, wounding three of the samurai, they were no match for the others who, though wanting to disarm them and capture them alive, could not do so.
One of the youths took a sword thrust through the lower part of his back and cried out, severely wounded but not enough to kill him immediately. The other whirled to his aid and in that instant was mortally wounded and crumpled, dying. "Sonno-joi," he gasped.
Aghast the other heard him, made one last impotent attempt to close with an attacker, then abruptly turned his sword on himself and fell on it.
"Find the Captain," a samurai panted, blood streaming from a sword slash in his arm. One of the others ran off as the rest collected around the bodies, the Sergeant still gurgling though dying fast. "Nothing we can do for him. Never seen a shuriken so fast." Someone turned the two dead men over. "Look, death poems! Shishi all right--eeee, both Satsumas! They must have gone mad."
"Sonno-joi!" another muttered, "that's not mad."
"It's mad to say that aloud," a hard-faced ashigaru warned him. "If an officer hears you..."
"Listen, these motherless dogs had the password, there's a traitor here!" More nervously they looked at each other.
Over on the right the kitchen staff were transfixed, not knowing what was going on. Many samurai had been drawn away from the hedge and stood gaping at the bodies, creating the opening
Katsumata and Saigo had planned.
Again Saigo signalled. His two strongest fighters broke out of the bushes on his extreme right and ran for the far southeast corner. Almost at once they were spotted. Cursing, the two nearest samurai rushed to intercept as others ran to their aid. Violent hand-to-hand combat began again, darkness helping the attackers immeasurably.
One defender screamed and went down clawing his half-severed arm. More samurai were drawn away from the hedge immediately in front of Saigo and just before the samurai overwhelmed the two fighters, in a coordinated maneuver the two shishi broke off the battle and pretended to flee pell-mell for the fence near the kitchens, well away from Saigo and the three final teams. As they fled they unwound ropes from their waists with small grapples on the end. Nearing the fence they threw them deftly, caught the top, and began to climb, their pursuers redoubling their efforts.
By now all attention was on these two. Guards near the entrance and the far side of the Sh@ogun's complex, still not knowing exactly what was happening other than that two ronin were loose in the compound and were now trying to escape over the fence, hurried to intercept them. Others ran out and down the perimeter fence to catch them on that side.
One of the shishi reached the top of the fence but before he could scramble over it a knife impaled him and he fell backwards into the shrubberies. The other man abandoned his rope, leapt beside his friend and just had time to see him bury his own knife in his throat to avoid capture before he went down under a flurry of blows. He twisted and turned and fought with great strength but was soon disarmed and pinioned to the earth by four samurai.
"Now, who are you?" a samurai asked, out of breath. "Who are you and what's your game?"
"Sonno-joi... obey your Emperor," the man panted and again tried to fight out of their grip but could not. Others were collecting around him and he was confident he had done his part in the attack and could continue his diversion for a little while longer, unafraid of capture because there was a poison vial in the neck of his kimono within reach of his teeth. "I am Hiroshi Ishii of
Tosa, and demand to see the Sh@ogun."
From where he was hidden Saigo and the five men with him could hear their compatriot but their attention was fixed on the hedge facing them and on the far entrance. The few remaining guards left it to gather around the doomed man and now, at last, the target was open. "Attack!"
The six men leapt to their feet and charged,
Saigo and Tora leading the wedge. They had covered perhaps half the distance before there was a warning shout and samurai surrounding the bodies of the first team began running back to head them off. At once Ishii redoubled his efforts to escape, shouting and raving to distract those holding him but a fist smashed him into unconsciousness.
"You two stay here," the samurai panted, sucking his bruised knuckles. "Don't kill the son of a dog, we'll need him alive." He got up painfully and limped off to join the others, a bad sword cut on his thigh.
Some of the defenders were gaining on the six shishi who still ran directly at the hedge that curled away in both directions. "Now!" Saigo ordered. Immediately the pair to his right turned back into defensive positions, shurikens in their hands. Warily the running samurai slowed, darted left and right, feinted, then attacked, the shurikens finding targets but not wounding badly enough and another hand-to-hand began, six samurai against the two of them.
Reinforcements were running from the main gate, others from the first diversion, all of them, defenders and attackers, converging on their lodestar--the gateway to the Sh@ogun's lair. When the men from the Inn's main gate saw to their horror that the hedges and entrance had been left completely unguarded--though the doors were closed--with Saigo and three others running fast and not far from the hedge, they swung away to position themselves between the shishi and the entrance, leaving others to attack them, and frantically raced to protect the gate. Behind
Saigo and Tora the two fighters were attacking, retreating, still covering their rear. Both men had sustained wounds but two samurai were on the ground writhing with pain. Four against two with others not far away.
"Now!" Saigo ordered and the pair on his left broke away and stabbed for the entrance. No doubt they would reach it before the defenders and this caused others heading for Saigo also to change direction and make for the entrance as well. At once Saigo and Tora whirled and joined the fight behind them. Their ferocious charge dispatched two of the remaining four samurai and helped eliminate the remaining enemy--only Saigo and
Tora, though breathing heavily, were untouched.
At once Saigo ordered, "Go!" the two men sang out, "sonno-joi" and, painfully, rushed to support the attack on the entrance, drawing off more samurai, leaving Saigo and
Tora to resume their headlong charge for the hedge.
The first pair of shishi attacking the gateway reached the narrow path and ran for the doors. One man began to push them open. At that moment an arrow thwacked viciously into the wood and then both men were hit and shortly riddled with more arrows from bowmen amongst the reinforcements. They cried out, impotently tried to continue, and died on their feet. The second team gained the pathway. One rushed at the oncoming samurai, the other went for the gates, stumbled over his dead comrades, and died, pierced with four arrows. His friend hit the samurai head-on, and was quickly killed. Only minutes had passed since the beginning.
Now the way was open to the pathway. In moments the fleetest of the defenders would reach the entrance and then there would be no way that Saigo and Tora, almost at the end of their run and due to turn for the gateway, could reach their goal. So the pace of the defenders slackened, the bowmen took aim leisurely, confident of victory. To their astonishment, instead of wheeling along the hedge,
Saigo and Tora kept the straight line of their rush and hurled themselves forward at t
he hedge, side by side.
Their momentum caused them to burst through it, that and the accuracy of their leap. Over preceding days,
Saigo found that though the branches were tightly interwoven, the trunks of the trees were about half a metre apart, and, he had surmised, if judged correctly, a rush would carry them through.
It did, successfully, though the branches lashed them bloodily around the face and arms. The two men picked themselves up exactly where Saigo had planned--on the meandering path beside the veranda that led to the bathhouse. For a moment no one was in sight, then several terrified maids and servants gaped at them from a doorway and vanished. Saigo led the soundless dash down the path and up the steps and around the veranda corner.
Two anxious officials came out of nowhere, unarmed and unprepared, one of them the Chamberlain.