The British
Consulate had definitely seen better days.
The solid
timber wall surrounding the embassy compound was soot-blackened in numerous
places, some of the damage obviously new. The acrid tang of fire and charred
wood still lingered in the air. There were spots on the ground where long wet
smears looked as if heavy things had been dragged through the dirt. Things like
bodies.
It was all
distressingly familiar to Lawrence Rutherford.
As their
carriages rattled through wrought-iron gates of the compound, past the rough
barricade erected behind it and the heavy complement of armed guards, Lawrence
was uncomfortably reminded of Shanghai during the worst of the anti-foreigner
strikes.
He sighed. And it’s only the first day.
As he stepped
out of the carriage, Lawrence swept a look around the compound. The wide open
courtyard was littered with burnt-out torches and broken pieces of debris, but
the main building itself looked untouched, thankfully. The two side wings that
extended to the back of the compound also looked fine. It would seem that
whatever it was that had happened did not get past the gates. He turned to meet
a guard who was hurrying towards their little group.
“What
happened here?”
The young man
had dark streaks across his face and his uniform was rumpled. Bags under his
eyes attested to a long night without sleep.
“A riot, sir.
Hooligans burning everything and beating up people, damn them...sorry, sir,” he
apologized lamely.
“That’s
alright. Your name is...?”
The guard saluted
a bit awkwardly, “First Lieutenant Brighton. We’ve been expecting you, sir, Sir
Hawthorne is in his office inside. They are about to leave to meet our Japanese
liaison, someone called Matsudaira. I suppose he is going to complain, ‘though
I’m not sure how much that will help.” The guard shook his head morosely. “It’s
been getting worse lately. Major Jamieson is taking some men on a round to
secure the perimeter, he should be back soon.”
“Lieutenant
Brighton, how often does this sort of thing happen?”
Brighton gave
a bitter bark of laughter, “Very often, sir. We’re not allowed outside the
embassy ground since there’ve been so many assaults on our men. Though to be
fair, it’s not just us, it’s all foreigners. The Japanese said they don’t want
another ‘Richardson’ affair, though I don’t see walling us up inside as a very
good solution.”
At that
moment, there was another commotion near the gate. A group of British soldiers
were coming in, riding on horses. A tall black-haired man in the lead swung
down from his horse and strode towards them, his long legs quickly covering
ground. He had tanned skin with sharply defined cheekbones, his classically
handsome face drawn in a troubled frown.
Brighton
turned around swiftly and saluted. “Major Jamieson, the embassy staff has just
arrived.”
The newcomer
nodded. “At ease, Lieutenant. I’ll take them to see Sir Hawthorne.” He turned
towards Lawrence with a small smile that was mirrored in his deep green eyes.
“Sir Rutherford, it is a pleasure to meet you again. Although I wish the
circumstances could’ve been more pleasant.”
Lawrence’s
smile for the younger man was genuine. “It’s alright, Arthur. It’s good to see
you, too. I see congratulations are in order, eh? They’ve finally gotten their
act together and promoted you to Major.”
Jamieson’s
smile widened slightly. “I honestly don’t think that I have the years for the
rank, sir. But Major Nash was transferred to Kagoshima three months ago. I
suppose they just had to promote someone to take over things.”
“Nonsense,”
Lawrence laughed, “years do count, but skills and results count for more.
Sergeant at twenty-five and now Major at thirty-one. And accomplished all by
yourself.” Lawrence smiled fondly at him. “I was right all those years ago.”
Jamieson
lowered his head. “I know you told me not to say it anymore, but still...thank
you for sponsoring me. The military wouldn’t have accepted me otherwise.”
Lawrence
waved a dismissive hand, “And it would’ve been their loss. But we’ll have a lot
of time later to reminisce. Tell me, what’s going on here?”
The Major’s
face turned serious, his eyes darkening. “There was a riot on the street last
night. At first it looked as if it was just going to be another one of those
rowdy disturbances, quite common these days. But we had some warnings that they
might try to attack the embassy, so we prepared ourselves. This was not the
first time we’ve been attacked.”
He shook his
head. “Around midnight, about thirty to forty men gathered here and started
throwing things and burning torches. Three of my men were hurt when they
charged the gate and we were forced to shoot some of them. But after that they
gave up and went away, although they torched some of the surrounding
buildings.”
Lawrence
sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t think the situation in Kyoto was this bad.”
“I’m very
sorry, I know that the last dispatch to London said that it was alright here,
but if I may,” Jamieson continued in a lower voice, “that’s understating it,
sir. True, no one has been killed since Mister Richardson, two years ago, but
the whole city is reeking of contained violence, and it has been getting worse
over the last two months.”
“This is
already the third attack in almost as many months. The last time, they burned our
warehouses near the river, we lost a fair number of our goods.” Jamieson’s
mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “The merchants screamed long and hard about
that. Sir Hawthorne had to work hard to pacify them.”
“Jamie!”
Jamieson
blinked and turned towards the carriages, where the call had come from. The
women had all gotten out of the last carriage and Isabelle was walking towards
them with a bright smile on her face.
Lawrence hid
a knowing smile for the upcoming scene.
Isabelle
stopped in front of the Major, face tilted up to look at the tall man. She
regarded him with a smile that was slowly turning mischievous. Jamieson blinked
down at the young girl in some confusion.
“Miss...?”
Then with no
warning at all, Isabelle threw her hands around Jamieson’s chest in a big and
decidedly improper hug.
“Jamie, you
big lout! You’ve forgotten all about me, haven’t you?”
Jamieson’s
expression was priceless as he stared down at the girl that was hugging him,
speechless.
“You...?
Wait, what did you call me...?”
Isabelle
leaned back without releasing her hug, blue eyes dancing with mischief. “How
many people call you Jamie, anyway? And who’s the first to ever call you by
that nick-name, you heartless man?”
The young
major’s expression was undergoing some decidedly interesting contortions,
Lawrence observed with amusement, although it was laced with some worry. He had
no objections whatsoever on Isabelle renewing her acquaintance with Jamieson,
but if it went further than that...
Jamieson’s
eyes had widened, making him look younger than his thirty-one years. He was
catching on. “You mean... ‘belle? You’re little Isabelle??”
Isabelle
snapped a finger in front of his eyes, giggling slightly. “Surprise!”
“Dear heavens...”
Jamieson looked the young girl up and down, a wide smile making its own way to
his usually stern face. “You’re this big already? I can’t believe it... You
were barely up to my chest last time I saw you.”
“Which was
*six years* ago,” Isabelle threw him a mock glare. “And that reminds me, who
was it that promised to keep in touch
with me, all those years ago, hmm?”
Jamieson’s
smile turned just slightly forced, although the apology in his voice was
genuine. “I’m so sorry. I should have written a letter to you, but I’ve been
moving around.” He gave Lawrence a discreet look, which didn’t escaped the
ambassador’s eyes, then gently disengaged himself from Isabelle’s hug.
“I promise I
will talk with you again after this, I’m sure there are a lot of things to
catch up on. But for now, I have to bring your father to meet Sir Hawthorne.
Brighton here will help you and the rest settle in, then after I’ve finished
working, I’ll find you. Alright?”
Isabelle
looked slightly disappointed, but she let Jamieson go without a fuss. Lawrence
found himself reflecting on how easy it was to read her face, all her emotions
out in the open for anyone to see. So
like her mother.
“Alright,”
Isabelle was saying, stepping away from Jamieson. “But if you break this promise,
I’m coming after you, hear? And you’ve got nowhere to run.” She gave him one
last brilliant smile then left with Lieutenant Brighton.
Jamieson
turned towards Lawrence, his face back to its usual grave expression. “Well,”
he said briskly, “if you’ll follow me? Sir Hawthorne has requested a personal
meeting with you first.”
Lawrence
followed him into the main entrance. The receiving hall was a big open space
with tatami-covered floors, a narrow corridor leading towards the inner
sections. Western chairs and tables furnished the place, with a few watercolor
paintings gracing the walls. The decidedly Japanese structures of the
mansion-like building clashed rather oddly with the western furnishings and
ornaments.
He wondered
how much trouble it had been to obtain these furnishings, or if Hawthorne had
simply ordered them from a merchant. It must had cost the treasury a fortune.
Jamieson
stopped before a room at the end of the corridor. Unlike the others, wooden
planks separated it from the corridor in a very Western style, and a real
solid-wood door graced it, the first Lawrence had seen in the building.
Knocking and
opening the door, Jamieson ushered Lawrence into a spacious, carpeted room.
High glass windows graced one side of the wall, the afternoon sun falling down
on the rich oak wood of the wide table before it. An old gentleman was leaning
back on the high-backed leather chair behind it, shadows half-obscuring his
face.
“Sir
Hawthorne, Mister Adrian, the embassy staff had just arrived. This is Sir...”
“Sir Lawrence
Rutherford, yes, I know, Major,” the old gentleman stood up, smiling at
Lawrence. “Welcome to Kyoto embassy, Lawrence. It has been a long time, hasn’t
it?”
Lawrence’s
feet sank into the thick carpeting as he walked up to shake Hawthorne’s hand.
He noticed a man standing unobtrusively near the door. If it was not for
Jamieson’s greeting, he would not have known there was another man in the room.
“Yes, Sir
Hawthorne. Five years, I believe. How have you been?”
Hawthorne’s grip
was strong and sure, belying his apparent frailness. “Alistair, please. I’m
fine, as you can see. Please have a seat.” The older man nodded towards
Jamieson and the Major left the room quietly, closing the door with a soft
click. The young man Lawrence noticed earlier moved to a liquor cabinet and
quietly poured some brandy from a crystal decanter.
“How was the
journey from Osaka? It was a long one, wasn’t it? I’m afraid there are nothing
as advanced as trains in this backward country.”
Lawrence took
his place in the opposite chair, the plush leather comfortably soft. “No, it’s
quite alright. The long ride gave us some time to rest. Ah, thank you.” The
young man had handed a cut-crystal glass filled with brandy to Lawrence and
another to Hawthorne.
Hawthorne
waved a hand towards the young man. “This is my personal assistant, Adrian
Devonshire. He’s been in Japan for four years, and when I was transferred from
Yokohama to Kyoto, he came with me.”
“How do you
do, Sir Rutherford.” Adrian Devonshire’ voice, like the rest of him, was quiet
and unobtrusive. He was one of those very pale people; unremarkable green eyes
on a thin face, his slightly wavy hair a blonde so light as to be almost white.
“So,”
Hawthorne settled himself more comfortably on his chair, “how’s everything back
in London?”
"I was only there for half a year, after I
returned from Shanghai. But from what I saw, everything is just fine."
"That's good. We'll have to have a long talk
about London later. An old man gets home-sick after so long away from
home." Hawthorne's amiable expressions turned more serious. "But for
now, let us talk about why you've come here. Am I right to assume that you are
here with Her Majesty's order for our foreign policy?"
“Yes,”
Lawrence reached into the inner pocket of his vest and retrieved a crisp white
envelope. The flap was sealed with red wax, stamped into a shape of intertwined
unicorn and lion. He passed it over to Hawthorne, who took a long look at the
flowing cursive letterings on the front, then broke the seal with a flick of
his finger. For a while, the room was silent as the Lawrence watched the older
man read the letter folded inside.
Hawthorne
finally looked up at Lawrence. His expression did not change as he spoke, “So,
this is official then? Our alliance with Satsuma domain instead of Bakufu...”
From the
corner of one eye, Lawrence noticed Hawthorne’s assistant stiffening slightly,
but his attention was fully concentrated on the Embassy Head. The man’s
reaction was crucial to the success of his task.
“Yes, it is.
Needless to say, all the negotiations would be kept as quiet as possible. It
would not be possible to keep it completely secret from the government, but the
less the Shogunate knows about this the better. We can still keep them guessing,
and hopefully by the time they dare to take action against us, it will all be
over.”
“As you know,
our merchants have been selling small weapons to them for years, but they’ve
been restricted by our implicit policy. We will relax them now and encourage
them to increase the sales of arms, starting immediately. To keep it discreet,
we may need to utilize the Shanghai black market, but it should be easy to
arrange.”
“And what do
we receive in return?”
"Satsuma and Choshu will be opening more of their
ports to us. When they succeed in over-throwing the government, all of our
trading will be given preferential treatment. We are still negotiating over how
open Japan will be to us and other exact details. But we will definitely insist
on their guarantee of non-hostility against our people."
Hawthorne
tapped one finger thoughtfully on the table, “I have to say that I’ve been
expecting something along this line. But may I ask what prompted the decision?
Why now?”
“Yes.”
Lawrence leaned forward, “Are you aware that Satsuma is in the process of
striking an alliance with Choshu against the Shogunate?”
Hawthorne’s
eyes widened, “It’s true then? I only heard rumors...”
Lawrence
nodded, “It’s true. You know quite a few of our companies had trading relationships
with Satsuma merchants, in Kagoshima and Nagasaki. A few months ago, one of our
company Thomas Glover’s branches in Nagasaki was approached by the head
of a local shipping organization called ‘Kaientai’. A man called
Sakamoto Ryoma.”
Hawthorne
frowned at Lawrence, “Sakamoto Ryoma? I’ve never heard of him.”
Hawthorne’s
secretary leaned closer and murmured, “That company had done quite a few
transactions with our trading companies, mostly buying weapons. All legitimate
business. But the man Sakamoto Ryoma has been suspected of being a strong
supporter of Ishin Shishi.”
Lawrence
folded his hands on his laps, “Yes, Thomas Glover had long informed us
that they suspected that particular company of being a front for Satsuma
operations. Seeing as to who the person who accompanied him was, I suppose we
have the answer to that particular suspicion.” Lawrence smiled, “You’ve heard
of Saigo Takamori, I suppose?”
“Saigo
Takamori of Satsuma?” Hawthorne asked sharply.
“The very
one. One of the foremost effective leaders of Satsuma province. And what was
even more surprising was the other person accompanying him. A Choshu
representative called Ito Hirobumi - one rumored to be a close friend to both
Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku from Choshu. And they’re dealing
together.”
As the older
diplomat visibly struggled to absorb the implications involved in the news,
Lawrence continued, “They asked for a clandestine meeting with an agent of our
foreign office in Kagoshima, they knew Thomas Glover was a source of
information for our office.”
“What did
they want?”
“They want to
buy more advanced weaponry… and” Lawrence paused meaningfully, “battle ships.”
Hawthorne
sucked in a breath, “Battle-ships… they’re serious this time.”
“We thought so
too. They’re keeping it quiet, all dealings will be handled by Thomas Glover
and Kaientai as legitimate business, but there’s no question as to where
the weapons will end up, and what they will be used for.”
“How strong
is this supposed alliance?”
“A bit tense.
Our agent said Sakamoto Ryoma did most of the talking. The impression he got
was that Saigo Takamori and Ito Hirobumi were not completely at ease with each
other. But they were also definitely working together and committed to their
course. Or at least until they manage to overthrow the government.”
Hawthorne
shook his head in some bemusement, “I never would have believed it...I thought
the bad blood between those two could never be bridged. Satsuma did lead the
government’s punishment attack on Choshu last year.”
Lawrence
smiled thinly, “Well, I suppose an immediate common enemy takes precedence over
old grudges. Or else this Sakamoto Ryoma is a very persuasive person. From what
I gathered, he had quite a hand in persuading Satsuma and Choshu to sit at the
same table without going for each other’s throats.”
Turning
serious, he continued, “But you can see why we decided to support them now?
Those two are the richest and most powerful factions opposing the government.
Allied together...the consensus reached in London was that this alliance of
theirs would prove pivotal to the direction this country will take. And we’re
running out of confidence in the government’s ability to stabilize the country.
Satsuma and Choshu seem to have more vitality than the old Shogunate.”
“Let’s just
say that once the pieces settle down, we would prefer to be on the winning
side.”
“I see.”
Hawthorne took another look at the paper in his hand, “So, we are going to
start increasing sales of weapons to them. Better quality rifles and… ground
cannons.” Hawthorne looked up, “What about battle-ships?”
“That will
have to wait for a while. We will need to finalize a few things before we
commit ourselves that far. But the guns and sample cannons had already been
shipped in a few months ago to here. For this first shipment, it will not be
moved through Nagasaki. I need to handle it personally.”
Hawthorne
grimaced, “You must mean that July shipment?” He shot a look at Adrian, “I
don’t know if you’ve already heard of it... but we had rioters who burned and
destroyed our warehouse a month ago. I’m afraid the goods from that shipment
were among them.”
Lawrence
blinked in surprise, “That, that is truly... unfortunate.” Unfortunate was not
the word he was going to say, but he swallowed the inelegant curse before it
could escape his mouth. “That’s going to create some difficulties, I’m afraid.
Part of the reason I’m here is to meet with some of the leaders based in Kyoto
to finalize the agreement. But they have been promised that shipment as proof
of our sincerity.”
“I’m sorry
about that.” Hawthorne looked sympathetic. “When is the next one going to
arrive?”
Lawrence
thought fast. “Another one month, if I remember correctly.”
“Can’t you
delay the meeting?”
Lawrence grimaced,
“I suppose that’s the only thing I can do. I hope they won’t think we’re trying
to renege, I don’t think they’re a very trusting type.”
“Lawrence,”
Hawthorne stood up from his chair and walked towards the large window. “Are you
sure this is the right thing to do? Supporting the rebels... it seems to be a
very dangerous gamble that we’re taking. You’re worried that they’ll think we
are reneging, but aren’t you worried that they
will be the ones who turn on us? We have lost men to them even when they say
they are not our enemy. How do you know that they are going to honor this
agreement?”
“I have been
assured that we have a good understanding with the two domains’ highest
authorities. Which, by the way, are not just the Daimyos.” Lawrence paused, “I
know what you are referring to, but that unfortunate incident with Mister
Richardson was done by a Satsuma extremist faction, quite independently of the
leaders’ wishes.”
Again,
Lawrence noticed Devonshire tensing at that. He wondered what was bothering the
secretary so much.
“Do you
believe that?”
Lawrence
looked back at Hawthorne. The older man’s eyes were intense although his tone
remained conversational.
Hawthorne
continued evenly, “They might say they had no hand in it, but Lord only knows
if they’re telling the truth. They are a tricky lot, these Japanese. And even
if they are speaking the truth, that does not solve the problem. Lawrence, I’ve
been living here for four years, and I will tell you – the natives hate us. If
any of us step outside our embassy without heavy guards, that crowd out there
would butcher us in a second.”
“I understand
that, Alistair. But it has been two years, a lot of things have changed in two
years time. The effective authority in the two provinces is no longer held by
the previous council, and not even exclusive to the ruling Houses. They are in
the hands of middle-rank samurai Shishis such as Saigo Takamori and Katsura
Kogoro. And ever since Kagoshima and Shimonoseki incidents two years ago, these
men had displayed a change in attitude towards us.”
Lawrence’s
crooked smile belied the gravity of their topic of conversation, “They’re no
longer so quick to try to kill us and kick us off their land. But most
importantly, they know that they need us. They have no hope of winning without
our help, specifically our arms and technology.”
"Besides, they're too far gone down the road
to ever return to the Shogun's grace. They have no other choice left but to
fight, and they can't afford to lose. It's a perfectly reasonable decision to
set aside old hatred for the advantages an alliance with England will bring.
Even if the foot soldiers can't understand it, the leaders do. And they are the
ones giving the orders."
“You’re that
confident that the orders would be followed?”
“We believe
so, yes. But that’s also part of my job here. The representatives I will be
meeting here will be some of the foremost leaders of the Ishin movement. They
will be the ones actually driving the revolution here, not those back at the
far-away provinces. Before I finalize any agreement with them, I will need to
see them face-to-face - to see if they have what it takes to win.”
“If not?”
“If not…at
best a delay. At worst, if the circumstances are completely different from what
we’ve been given to understand… then we’ll have no choice but to throw our
support behind the current government instead. We’ll have to wait for a better
option later.”
Hawthorne
nodded towards the window, where they could see the blackened gates. “Did you see
those on your way in? Four of our men are badly wounded and some of the
outlying buildings are burnt to the ground. They shouted for hours for our
deaths while they circled the embassy like vultures. Everybody knows Ishin
Shishi instigated this. Those are the ones whom we will be allied with,
Lawrence. Do you truly think this is wise?”
“I understand
your concerns, and it is very valid indeed. Can you tell me more about these
‘Ishin Shishi’?”
“Trouble,”
Hawthorne replied promptly. “Even though you won’t hear it from anyone, there’s
a war going on in Kyoto right now. It’s fought on the streets, and most of the
fault lies with these… ‘Ishin’ rebels. Assassinations, raids, riots, burnings
and lootings... It’s increasing in frequency, the whole city reeks of
gunpowder.”
“I can tell
you that you will find the most extreme gaijin-haters in them. And those ‘new
leaders’ that you talked about are the widely-acknowledged head of these Ishin
Shishi.”
Lawrence nodded thoughtfully, “I will
remember your advice when I meet them, Alistair.”
"Please do. For your own sake." Alistair
walked back towards Lawrence and offered his hand, signaling the end of the
meeting, "This is not England, and it is not Shanghai either. We do not
have as much presence or power here, and the natives are even more hostile
towards foreigners than the Chinese. Do remember that."
Lawrence
tried to shake off the ominous sense of warning those words gave him and took
Hawthorne’s hand, “Thank you.” Time enough to think more on this later.
As Adrian
softly closed the door behind Lawrence, Hawthorne stood up with his
half-finished brandy in his hand and stared outside the window. The soldiers
outside were just starting to clean up the debris littering the compound.
Adrian stood waiting patiently.
After a
while, Hawthorne brought the glass to his mouth and gulped down the brandy.
“Prepare the
carriage. We are going to Matsudaira’s place. There’s going to be a lot of
things to discuss.”
***
Saitou
Hajime, the infamous Captain of the Third Troop of Shinsengumi, was in a bad
mood. And as his subordinates and peers had long since learned, when
Saitou-gumichou was in a bad mood, one stayed out of his line of sight.
The common
citizens of Kyoto had not learned that yet. But the sight of the distinctive
blue-and-white haori, coupled with the murderous look on his face, were more
than enough to make them scramble out of his way.
The day had
not gone well. The night before had qualified as a disaster, but the day had
not been better off. Vice-captain Hijikata was less than pleased to learn of
the intruder, and of Okita’s aborted duel with the Ishin Shishi Battousai. The
vice-captain did not raise his voice, but his precisely worded reprimand had
sent a flush to Okita Souji’s pale face, and set Saitou’s blood to a seething
boil.
The fact that
the reprimand was no more than deserved only made him even more determined to
hunt the ones responsible and even the scores. He did not appreciate being made
into a fool, and the omnitsu of the other night had done just that.
And to add insult to injury, reports
were coming in of informers and undercover men who turned up dead before the
day was even halfway through. Some of those men had been under his supervision,
which was why he was dragging himself all over Kyoto without sleeping a wink
the night before. And all of this within less than a day after he returned to
Kyoto.
Oh yes,
Saitou Hajime had a lot of reasons to be in a foul mood.
He turned into an alley where rows of small wooden
houses stood on both sides of the narrow road. Sluggish waste canals ran along
both sides of the road, giving off faint noxious odor of decay that the
residents had long since grown accustomed to. Most of the residents here would
be lower working-class level, a few of them peering out at him with wary,
frightened eyes.
Saitou's lips curled up in a cynical smile. Even
though Shinsengumi was responsible for the safety of Kyoto, very few of its
citizens would be pleased to receive a visit from those they called the 'wolves
of Mibu' in hushed tones.
That was just fine with Saitou Hajime. He had no
use for something as whimsical and worthless as people's good opinion, and
could care less what others thought about him. He was about to enter one of the
houses when a man burst out of the door and stumbled past him.
Without
missing a beat, his right ankle shot out and neatly tripped him. As the other
person screamed, Saitou flung back his hand and grabbed a fistful of fabric.
Yanking him by the ruff of his neck, he dragged the man full circle and hurled
him right back through the door where he came from.
The two
Shinsengumi inside barely escaped being flattened by the human missile. Their
faces paled slightly on seeing Saitou and they quickly busied themselves with
holding the dazed man immobile, studiously avoiding their captain’s cold glare.
A woman and
two children huddled in a corner of the small living area. Saitou barely gave
them a glance. The man he had thrown inside was cowering in the center of the
room, blubbering incoherently. One of the Shinsengumi shook him roughly,
“Slower Fuji, you idiot. Talk slower.”
The man
called Fuji flinched, then continued his frantic babble, “H-hai, hai, I don’t
know anything, please I don’t know I’m not involved at all please don’t kill me
I have children to raise please don’t...”
Saitou walked
over and looked down at Fuji with narrowed eyes, and then he coolly slapped
him. Hard. The other man almost fell over with the blow, his family crying out
but silencing quickly when the other two Shinsengumi glared at them.
“Shut up.”
Fuji stared
up at Saitou from the floor with panic-stricken eyes, but he stopped talking.
“Now,” Saitou
said in a deceptively mild voice, “if you don’t start making sense, I’m going
to shut you up permanently.”
He squatted
down in front of the kneeling man, “I ask you one question, you answer my
question. Simple enough for you to understand?”
Fuji gulped
then nodded mutely, staring at Saitou like a rabbit caught by the eyes of a
predator.
“One
question,” Saitou held one finger up before him, “Who instigated the burning
last night?”
Fuji started
shaking his head frantically, but then Saitou inserted quietly, “If you say you
don’t know, you have no further use to us, Fuji.”
Fuji opened
and closed his mouth several times, before he finally stammered out, “I don’t
know who they...”
Saitou stood up abruptly and made for the door. A metallic
hiss sounded as the other troops started to pull out their katanas. Fuji
screamed at Saitou's back, "I swear, please...! I only know a few people
in them..." One of the Shinsengumi unsheathed his katana completely with a
clear ringing sound, "Taka... Taka would know," he cried out, tears
starting to flow down his cheeks, "Taka said he worked for this big-shot
Shishi called... Ieda... Ieda Yasuhiro. Taka
was there last night...go ask Taka, please, I don't
know..." his last words broke into uncontrollable sobs.
The
Shinsengumi slid their katanas back into the sheath. Saitou turned around to
look at the man who knelt crying on the floor. Two out of the three other
informants he had questioned had said the same thing. He would have to wait
until Yamazaki Susumu confirmed it with his sources, but his instinct told him
that this was the one.
Ieda Yasuhiro.
He had his
first target.
The second
target... He debated it with himself, and then knelt down again in front of
Fuji, “Have you heard anything from your friends about a new ninja in the
services of Ishin Shishi? An exceptionally good one?”
Fuji shook
his head hard, “N-no.. I don’t know anything like that... I just hear things...
please, let me go... I... w-we haven’t done anything... we’re just trying to
make a living...”
Useless. He would
have to look for someone higher up the food chain. Saitou snorted to himself
and stood up, nodding to his men. He spoke to Fuji without looking at him, “Get
your things packed. My men will guard you and your family as far as the
outskirt or any of the boat-quays, your choice, then you’re on your own.”
The wife that
had been silent until now finally cried out, “Na-nani...? We’re leaving? Why?!”
Saitou looked
at her sideways, smirking slightly, “What...do you want to stay here? It’s not
like you’re going to be terribly welcomed around here anymore. Especially by
those ‘friends’ of your husband’s.”
“But...but
we’ve been living here all our lives, my grandparents have lived here all...”
Saitou cut
her off coolly, “If you want to stay, that’s just fine with me. I have better
things to do for my men than play bodyguards. But let it not be said that
Shinsengumi do not at least give you some chance of living.”
Before he
turned towards the broken door, Saitou calmly threw her one last sentence, “Oh,
and if I were you... I’d think twice about a husband who’s the first to run
when trouble comes knocking.”
As he walked
out of the soon-to-be vacated house, Saitou could hear the man’s pathetic pleas
and the wife’s broken whispers. “...we just want to live here...in Kyoto...in
our home...why...” The children were starting to cry.
Why? As he walked
away from the alley, Saitou answered the question silently. Because this is not a time that allows
people to straddle two boats at the same time. You are either on one side or
another. There is no neutral ground; there are no innocent by-standers.
And anyone who does not make their stand will have
no one to blame but themselves when they are swept away by the greatest forces
in motion in the last three hundred years.
He let the
last few moments disappear from his thoughts. There were more important things
to think about. Like how to get to Ieda Yasuhiro. The man was one of the
foremost leaders of Choshu Ishin Shishi and a well-known radical supporter of Sonno
Joi. Finding out where he was holed up in would be nice, but that was not
something that could be discovered overnight. Which simply gave him the task
that he would be devoting himself to over the next few weeks or months, however
long it took.
The other
thing would be tracing out this omnitsu. After a terse discussion this morning,
Hijikata-san had sent a letter to the newly established Oniwabanshu branch in
Kyoto. It would be sent to Edo for the sole hand of its Okashira - Makimachi
Hayato. He had some idea of what that would result in.
Saitou
scowled. Kyoto was going to get pretty crowded soon. He was starting to get
that uncomfortable itch in his mind. Nothing tangible, but he had long since
learned to trust his instincts. There was simply a feeling in the air of
something... something waiting to happen...
There was a
slight shifting of the crowd in front of him, a small murmuring that drew his
attention. A four-men palanquin was coming this way, a small procession
accompanied simply by a few soldiers and retainers. A modest-sized entourage,
befitting for a minor noble or a rich merchant. A common enough thing, not
worthy of more than a few casual glances.
But Saitou
Hajime stood there as if rooted to the spot.
There was a
small symbol at the front of the palanquin, a fist-sized house insignia carved
into the wood above the curtained entrance - a circle with five leaves
radiating out from the center.
A sakura made of leaves.
For the
briefest of moment, he had an almost uncontrollable urge to turn around and
walk the other direction. The next moment, he quashed the thought ruthlessly
out of his mind.
Ridiculous. Why should *I* walk away?
Disgust at himself,
and not a little anger, welled up inside of him. Outwardly, nothing changed.
Only the slightest tightening of his face and a colder than usual glint in his
eyes betraying anything less than usual. His feet resumed their interrupted
course, almost defiantly straight towards the palanquin.
As he walked
near the procession, his skin prickled with the awareness of being watched. He
forced himself to ignore it, walking at the same unhurried pace as before.
There was a
man walking beside the palanquin, a large straw-hat pulled low and covering
almost all of his face. His clothes were hidden under a rainproof straw mantle,
the incongruousness of such attire in a bright day like today drawing a few
looks from the crowd. As he walked, his movement stirred the mantle to reveal a
pair of daisho nestled beside his waist. It was the only thing hinting that he
might be something more than a simple retainer.
That, and the
almost intangible aura of blood around him.
Saitou walked
past him, so near their sleeves brushed against each other. In that instant two
pairs of eyes met in a flash faster than the blink of an eye. Dark amber
against shadowed green. A lop-sided smirk from under the shadow of the hat, and
the instance passed.
Saitou Hajime
of Shinsengumi walked on without a backward look.
The palanquin
continued silently for a short while, before a soft male voice from the inside
sounded.
“Does that
man amuse you so, Hyou?”
The man
outside tilted his head towards the voice, his lop-sided smirk turning into a
grin. “Nothing escapes you, ne? Matsudaira-san.”
A soft laugh,
“I just know you well.”
“You’re right
about that,” the other man gave an answering laugh, “I just did not expect to
see any wild animals in the city.”
“Oh? Wild
animals...”
Hyou threw a
look back where Saitou Hajime had disappeared. “Aa,” he agreed cheerfully, “Can
you sense it? A wolf just passed us by.”
***
About Notes -
I will put in the relevant information to the story in the story itself (or at least,
that’s what I’m aiming at ^^;;), so it’s not that necessary to read the Notes
in order to understand what’s going on ^_^. But sometimes the info will come
much later in the story, and those who’d like not to be in the dark in the
meantime will find the Notes helpful. But there are other explanations other
than the historical ones, so those will still be useful.
Notes
(especially long this time, hope I didn’t mangle Japan’s history too much
^_^;;) :
1.
Characters:
Sakamoto
Ryoma (1835-1867). Anybody doesn’t know who he is? ^_^ He’s very famous in
Japan, I gathered, though not so much outside of Japan. He acted as mediator in
the creation of the Sat-Cho alliance (Satsuma and Choshu), or to put it less
seriously, he managed to get the 2 representatives (Kido Takayoshi / Katsura
Kogoro from Choshu, Saigo Takamori from Satsuma) to sit together without
killing each other ^_~. He was from Tosa province, which later joined the
Sat-Cho alliance to wrestle Kyoto from Bakufu in the coup in 1868, forced Edo to
surrender and started Meiji. I believe he owned the Kaientai trading company,
but also ran it on behalf of Satsuma and helped Ishin Shishi get foreign
weapons. Watsuki-sensei mentioned his death during the Tsuioku-hen.
Ito Hirobumi
(1841-1909), Choshu loyalist, studied under the same Yoshida Shoin sensei as
Katsura Kogoro (Yoshida Shoin’s death was in RK OVA 1, and he was the source of
Katsura’s belief of ‘enduring madness to destroy an era’), went to study in
London in 1863-64, a “Western expert”. Colleague with both Katsura Kogoro and
Takasugi Shinsaku. Later he rose steadily in Meiji government and became Prime
Minister – bet you didn’t think he was that important, ne? ^_~
Saigo
Takamori, another extremely famous person, one of the 3 Ishin Shishi who were
later known as ‘Ishin Sanketsu’ (the other 2 are Katsura Kogoro and Okubo
Toshimitchi). Actually, he seemed to be the most famous out of the 3, and the
most popular. More on him later.
Katsura
Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku. Do I need to mention them here? ^_^; Both of them
appeared in Manga, mostly Tsuioku-hen, and the OVA. Both were foremost leaders
of Choshu Ishin Shishi, and Katsura was Kenshin’s immediate superior.
Yamazaki
Susumu – head of Shinsengumi’s information network and spies
2. Nagasaki
is a port in Kyushu island (the big island below Japan’s main continent), it
had a thriving international trade, it has been a foreign trade port since the
1600s. Most of the above talk about ‘Thomas Glover’ and ‘Kaientai’ is based on
truth, but I stretched some things and put a lot of fictional spin into it
^^;.
3. ‘Sonno
Joi’ = ‘revere the emperor, expel the barbarians’, the slogan of Ishin at the
time. Barbarians means the foreigners of course ^__^.
4. ‘the
razing of Choshu’ refers to Bakufu’s punishment attack on Choshu fief in August
1864, because of their persistent hostility towards foreigners and Bakufu. It’s
called ‘Dai Ichi Choshu Seibatsu’ (thanks Serizawa-san! ^_^). Satsuma soldiers
were a part of the attack force. This is the first punishment attack, there’s
another one later on in 1866.
5. The other
recent source of bad blood between Choshu and Satsuma was the ‘Kinmon no hen’,
July 1864, it was in the manga and the OVA, when Kyoto burned for 3 days. 3,000
Choshu soldiers attacked Kyoto for revenge against the slaughter in Ikedaya
Inn. Bakufu army, including Satsuma forces, numbered 80,000 – you can guess the
result ^^;;.
6. ‘Shimazu’
is the Daimyo family (Daimyo is the head ruler of the province/han) for Satsuma-han,
‘Matsudaira’ is the Daimyo family for Aizu-han, the fief where Saitou and
Megumi came from and lived their early lives. The daimyo was Matsudaira
Katamori, the Matsudaira in the fic was a relative. As to Saitou’s reaction to
the family emblem… well, they came from the same place, and I’m letting my
imagination run rampant here ^^;;. And no, the family emblem was fictional ^^;;
On to Chapter 6
: Storm Coming