So far it had paid off, but it was a dangerous game. A balancing act which placed Ieyasu on a tightrope over a pool of hungry sharks. For not only had he approved the use of devices filled with the Dark Light, he had even sent some of his most trusted men to help perfect the language skills of Karlstrom’s agents!
His opposite number, the head of AMEXICO – who also spoke fluent japanese – had never sought to press for an advantage. The emphasis had always been on mutual cooperation but Ieyasu knew that if one of the two copies of the secret protocol with his name and seal attached ever reached the Shogun, his hold on the reins of power would be abruptly severed. And so would his head. His own death in the proper course of events did not concern him, but his precipitate departure from office followed by the elimination of his closest aides would leave a dangerous vacuum in the highest councils of the land. A vacuum that a host of undesirables would rush to fill.
In the few years left to him, Ieyasu had to make the best possible use of this unique contact with a potential enemy state without compromising the long-term interests of Ne-Issan or betraying its most cherished beliefs. A lesser wrong for a greater good.
As a pragmatist, Ieyasu had no problem with that. Like all aristocratic Iron Masters, conspiracy was in his blood. The history of Ne-Issan was a catalogue of internecine feuds and labyrinthine treachery. Even so, there were times when he found it difficult to reconcile his dual roles as master spy and Court Chamberlain of the Toh-Yota shogunate with his blood-ties to the entire japanese ruling class. This was a primal allegiance that went beyond pure reason and, as such, could not be ignored. Up until now he had been able to override this inner conflict, but in the spring of 2991, he learned of an event which placed him in a considerable dilemma.
In the autumn of the previous year, mexicans disguised as slave workers had – with his tacit approval – sabotaged an attempt to build flying horses; a project masterminded by the Yama-Shita and Min-Orota families who were also laying plans to overthrow the Toh-Yota Shogunate. The sabotage operation had been a remarkably bloody affair – and so had its aftermath. Hundreds had perished, foot-soldiers, cavalry, samurai, nobles from both families and Domain-Lord Hirohito Yama-Shita who, by all accounts, had died in a particularly gruesome manner.
Ieyasu’s agents had been instrumental in helping the five saboteurs to leave the country but their departure had not been the end of the story. Judged guilty of seeking to resurrect the Dark Light, several leading members of the Yama-Shita family were given the chance to take their own lives; others, of lower rank, were executed, fines were levied and economic sanctions applied.
Armed resistance against the government was out of the question. The judgment against the family had been rendered by its peers; a committee of powerful domain-lords including several of its closest allies – whose neutrality had been purchased by giving them valuable pieces of the Yama-Shita trading empire.
All this had been done yet it had not brought the Yama-Shita to heel. They wanted revenge. Not against the Toh-Yota. Without its two main allies, the Ko-Nikka and the Se-Iko – the beneficaries of the Shogun’s largesse – the shogunate and the traditionalists now held the balance of power. It would take years to win back its former supporters and longer still before they were ready to even the score. No … the family’s thirst for revenge was directed against the five assassins – the outlanders who had killed their domain-lord and brought the house of Yama-Shita to its knees. They could not have done their bloody work without highly-placed friends inside Ne-Issan. If this murderous gang could be captured alive, they would soon reveal the identity of their masters …
Ieyasu did not need the bug planted inside the council chamber of the Yama-Shita’s palace at Sara-kusa to tell him how they had reasoned. He merely had to put himself in their place. The last-minute decision by the Shogun not to attend the flying display at the Heron Pool pointed to his complicity in the murderous onslaught unleased by the assassins. An onslaught which – in the minds of the Yama-Shita family – had been stage-managed by Ieyasu.
Not exactly true, but close enough. Ieyasu had not known in detail what the saboteurs intended to do; he had merely allowed the operation to go ahead. Had he known more, he might have acted otherwise. Using communication devices and ‘hired’ agents was one thing; allowing those same agents and Mute witches to murder highborn japanese citizens with impunity was something else entirely.
The events which had led to this indiscriminate killing were, arguably, an example of a delicate political problem that could not have been solved in any other way, and with such brutal swiftness. But there were limits beyond which Ieyasu was reluctant to go in his desire to preserve the shogunate. The Heron Pool incident marked the top of a slippery slope he had no wish to descend. And now, in the spring of 2991, the long-dogs had attacked again. Only this time, they had struck first and told him afterwards. A wheel-boat of the Yama-Shita family, carrying a large number of samurai and foot-soldiers towards the western shore of Lake Mi-shiga had been sunk with the loss of all hands.
Karlstrom, in sending his apologies, had explained that there had been no time to seek his approval. At the very last minute, AMEXICO had received news that the Yama-Shita intended to launch a military operation against a clan of Mutes that was sheltering the agents who had sabotaged the Heron Pool. No one could condemn the Yama-Shita family’s desire for revenge, said Karlstrom, but it was, under the laws of Ne-Issan, an illegal act of war.
True. But even so, regardless of the circumstances, the loss of 250 samurai, 300 red-stripes and 150 officers and crew was an act of violence that was difficult to condone: an affront to the pride of the entire nations. Had the attack gone ahead, it would have been a criminal act for which the Yama-Shita would have been duly punished. But it was equally reprehensible for the long-dogs to take the law into their own hands. To engineer the death of over seven hundred soldiers of Ne-Issan in order to save five of their agents and a clan of grass-monkeys was a totally disproportionate response. Secret agents were treasured assets but their duties also included a readiness to die. AMEXICO’s action against the wheel-boat had seriously damaged the existing relationship to the point where Ieyasu was beset with grave doubts about its future.
There was also another problem. Should he tell the Shogun about the illegal expedition mounted by the Yama-Shita? Or should he remain silent about the whole affair and accept the announcement from the palace at Sara-kusa that a wheel-boat supplying the new out-stations on Lake Mi-shiga had been lost with all hands during a violent storm? To reveal the truth – or part of it – would place Yoritomo under an obligation to impose further sanctions.
Ieyasu was reluctant to increase the pressure on the family. The death of Domain-Lord Yama-Shita and the exposure of the plot to resurrect the Dark Light had strengthened the position of the Toh-Yota. Its most powerful rival had been humbled, but they still commanded a great deal of covert support. Applying more sanctions would be seen as an attempt to completely destroy the family – a move that would arouse suspicion and resentment among the other domain-lords.
In their eyes, the deaths of the named conspirators and their closest relatives and the harsh fines had expunged the family’s guilt. Any further attempt to crush the Yama-Shita would be seen as a threat to all those who supported its progressive ideals. No one wanted to create conditions that could lead to another civil war. As the first among equals, the Toh-Yota had to be strong but not too strong. And since it could not singlehandedly sweep all opposition aside, it had to maintain the balance of power by a mixture of skilful government and skulduggery – two areas in which Ieyasu was the acknowledged master.
After lengthy reflection, Ieyasu decided to say and do nothing. He would, for the moment at least, leave the dilemma posed by his relationship with Karlstrom unresolved. He had not lost all sense of honour. It was simply that his self-esteem was of minor importance compared with the maintenance of the Toh-Yota shogunate. As long as he, Ieyasu, was alive, Yoritomo could be
left in charge of the moral high ground. His task was to underpin the succession by ensuring that the opposition remained fragmented. His legacy would be to imbue Yoritomo with the determination to gradually reduce the Yama-Shita to penury, redistribute their lands and drive them into political obscurity like the once-great Da-Tsuni.
To aid Yoritomo in this task, Ieyasu’s successor needed to retain access to the same alien devices that had enabled the present spy network to function so efficiently. The links with AMEXICO would not be severed but, equally, they would not be extended and the existing arrangements would have to be more tightly controlled. Karlstrom would have to understand that the indiscriminate killing of high-ranking Iron Masters by outlanders – no matter what the circumstances – could no longer be countenanced.
The presence of a Mute witch among the team of saboteurs at the Heron Pool and this latest action against the wheel-boat in defence of a clan of Mute fisherfolk were discordant notes in what until then had been a harmonious relationship. Similar, in many respects, to the trading contacts built up by Iron Master and Mute over several decades; contacts which had subsequently received the covert blessing of AMEXICO.
Having invested a great deal of time, money and effort, the Iron Masters regarded the Plainfolk Mutes as their own milch cow. These illiterate animals could never be allies but they had been accorded the status of auxiliaries. That was why they had been armed instead of being enslaved in the hope they could slow down the northwards advance of the Federation. But had the ground rules changed? Were these two disquieting incidents the product of another ‘understanding’? Another secret protocol signed by one or more of the competing Mute bloodlines and the smooth-tongued head of AMEXICO?
Only time would tell.
In the palace-fortress of Sara-kusa, built on the site of the pre-Holocaust city of Syracuse, N. Y, Aishi Sakimoto, acting Regent of the Yama-Shita family, had been asking himself more or less the same question and believed he now knew the answer.
In the normal course of events, the domain-lord’s eldest son would have assumed his father’s title, but on the orders of the Shogun, Hirohito’s children had all died by their own hand, or had been killed by their mother before turning the knife upon herself.
In some families, blood-feuds erupted when competing branches disputed the succession but Domain-Lord Hirohito Yama-Shita had ruthlessly eliminated all potential rivals. He had ruled with an iron hand but under his leadership the family, already rich, had prospered even more. Only now, with most of his immediate relatives dead, had come the sombre realization that his murderous reign had eliminated most of the candidates with the necessary strength, ability and drive to take his place.
The qualities of leadership now displayed by Aishi Sakimoto had not escaped the notice of his late nephew but he had survived, partly because he was Hirohito’s favourite uncle and a fairly ruthless character himself. But what had really saved him from assassination was the fact that he was old and without issue, and was therefore not regarded as a threat to the domain-lord’s own family.
It was also the reason why the shaken survivors had appointed him to head the council now running the family’s affairs until one of their number formally assumed the title. In the present climate, the chosen successor to Hirohito would not necessarily be the best man for the job. Ieyasu, the Lord Chamberlain had sent word that whoever was chosen could only become domain-lord with the approval of the Shogun. And everyone knew Yoritomo would not allow a strong candidate to take the helm.
It was a bitter pill. Never before had the family been forced to endure such interference with their affairs. The twin ancestors of the Yama-Shita, the Yama-Ha and the Matsu-Shita had helped the Toh-Yota defeat the Da-Tsuni. They had been allies. As part of the historic Seventh Wave, their blood had mingled on the shore of the Eastern Sea. But with the merger of the two families to form one of the biggest domains in Ne-Issan they had become rivals. And their differences had been aggravated by Hirohito’s espousal of progressive ideals.
The domain formed by the merger was not significantly larger than the territory held by the Toh-Yota. The source of their unease lay in its unique geographical position which gave it access to the the Great Lakes and the Eastern Sea, borders that could be easily defended and, above all, an enviable trading advantage. Even though the Toh-Yota had filled its own coffers by taxing the family’s revenues, the steadily increasing wealth and influence of the Yama-Shita had come to be viewed as a threat to the Shogunate.
Lord Hirohito’s overconfidence had led him to act prematurely. He had been right about Yoritomo. Left to his own devices, the young Shogun would not have been a problem. He was his own worst enemy. But Hirohito had seriously underestimated Ieyasu’s staying power. With Yoritomo’s accession and his attempted clean sweep, Ieyasu’s grip on the Inner Court had been seriously weakened. Many of his cronies had been ousted and his place-men in the bakufu had been demoted or pensioned off. Everyone had confidently expected Ieyasu to follow them out through the door to spend his last years pottering about the garden or the library of his large estate.
But the old fox had hung on, and six years later, the foothold he had managed to preserve had become a veritable stranglehold. It had been reported that he not only had the Shogun’s ear, he had both ears pinned against the wall. The proof was there for all to see! Yoritomo’s fleet-footed manoeuvres in the wake of the Heron Pool massacre bore all the hall-marks of the great conspirator.
Yes. More positive action should have been taken at the beginning. An overt assassination attempt was out of the question but Ieyasu’s penchant for juveniles was no secret within court circles. Instead of gloating over the reports of his imminent removal from office on the grounds of galloping senility, Hirohito should have slipped a couple of well-schooled ‘spring blossoms’ into the old bugger’s bed with orders to stay on the job until they had fucked his brains out.
Well, it was too late now. Hirohito had paid dearly for his mistake and so had the family. The account would be settled – with interest. But it would be an uphill task. Ieyasu would not last for ever, but it was clear that the young Shogun could no longer be written off. He had learned a great deal. The Yama-Shita would rise again but it would be many years before they would be strong enough to dislodge the Toh-Yota. He, Aishi Sakimoto, would play his part, but the sweet moment of victory would not come in his lifetime. For the moment, they would have to content themselves with punishing the clan M’Call and the rest of the She-Kargo bloodline.
Thanks to a message sent from the wheel-boat soon after the unmasking of the two Kojak ‘guides’, Sakimoto now knew that one of them was the cloud-warrior that the M’Calls had sent to Ne-Issan escorted by a female Mute. It was not clear whether this female – who had last been seen in the hands of the Min-Orota – was the unmarked white witch who had murdered Lord Hirohito with her foul magic, but there was a possibility they were one and the same.
When unmasked on the wheel-boat, the cloud-warrior had been disguised as Mute. His companion, whose skin was similarly marked, had been identified as the grass-monkey who had become the cloud-warrior’s personal servant and had flown the first rocket-powered prototype. In view of the expert way he had handled the craft he was probably another skilfully-disguised long-dog. As for the white witch, her true identity remained problematical. Sakimoto knew of the rumours of Mute magic but he had discounted them as Lord Hirohito had. Now he was not so sure. If the witch was not a long-dog, then it meant that there were clear-skinned, smooth-boned Mutes who – on the outside at least – looked just like Trackers!
It was all very confusing.
There was, however, one aspect of this affair which was not bedevilled by doubt. A working connection between long-dog and grass-monkey had been clearly established. By piecing together the information gathered from the fisherfolk of Lake Mi-shiga by the agents now stationed on the eastern shore, Sakimoto knew the wheel-boat had been set afire and sunk by flying-horses which could only have come from the Fe
deration. And the first two assassins had arrived in Ne-Issan as emissaries of the Clan M’Call. Under a deal struck by Lord Hirohito and a wordsmith called Mr Snow, the clan had agreed to deliver a cloud-warrior and his flying-horse in exchange for a hundred rifles!
Who could have guessed that this dull-eyed, oafish scum was capable of such duplicity? Never mind. It would not go unavenged, and nor would the crimes of the clan Kojak who – after the sinking of the wheel-boat – had massacred all those who reached the shore. But the first move would be against the M’Calls – the link between the Plainfolk and the Federation. And this time, the operation had to be mounted without any possibility of failure.
The family could expect no assistance from its few remaining friends in an act of war that did not have government approval. And in the present climate, that was unlikely to be obtained without being forced to hand over a large piece of the pie. The only way round the problem was to mask the attack by using Mute clans from the D’Troit bloodline, the fiercest rivals of the She-Kargo.
Sakimoto was aware that slaughtering the She-Kargo trade delegations would net very few of the real offenders. The bulk of the clan M’Call was safely out of reach. But this attack was only the first step in a plan the family had been hatching for some considerable time. The harsh consequences of Lord Hirohito’s misadventure had weakened the family’s power-base and it could only be rebuilt by implementing the plan to expand its present boundaries.
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