his bony arm. “Summon the girls and the sake,” he said, all friendliness and light now. “We’ll sit on the moon-viewing deck. Oh, and, Jun, see to it that these tatami are replaced. Your prisoner’s gone and trodden all over them with his dirty boots.”
Jun bowed, gave Shichio the tiniest of glances, and made himself scarce. General Mio gave a curt bow and headed toward the moon tower. Shichio stepped into the audience chamber and Hashiba followed, sliding the shoji shut behind him.
“Hashiba-dono,” Shichio said.
“Not here.”
“We’re alone.”
Hashiba looked at the prisoner, who stood proudly despite his bound arms and the dust of the road on his clothing.
“This man is no one,” said Shichio, hooking a finger under Hashiba’s chin to pull his gaze back to his own face. “But if you’re worried about him talking, we can arrange to have his tongue cut out, can’t we?”
Hashiba took half a step backward. Usually he liked these little hints at violence. They made him feel powerful. But not tonight. “Who is he, Shichio? You’re up to something.”
“He’s no one. I swear to you. But I think he has information about an abbey of the Ikko sect.”
“Nonsense. We doused that fire years ago.”
“Perhaps. But even a single ember can give birth to a forest fire, neh ?”
“Ask Mio. He was around before your time. He’ll tell you: we put them to the sword by the thousands. Believe me, the Ikko Ikki are no threat to anyone.”
Shichio made a pouting face. “Let me ask this one anyway.”
Hashiba smirked. “Why? You’ve got no taste for asking questions anyhow—at least not in the way that guarantees the right answers.”
Shichio suppressed a shudder. He’d seen the fruits of Hashiba’s favored method. He’d seen the horrors of the battlefield too. Hashiba’s technique was indescribably, nightmarishly worse.
And despite Shichio’s efforts to conceal his revulsion, Hashiba saw through his mask. “You see?” he said. “All I have to do is mention real questioning and your blood runs cold.”
Hashiba had him cornered. But if there was one thing Shichio was good at, it was turning a position of weakness into a position of strength. “If I do it your way, you’ll let me ask my questions?”
Hashiba sighed. “If this is Tokugawa’s man, it’ll be nothing but trouble for me.”
“Come, now. He’ll never miss one man, will he?”
“Lord Penny-Pincher? He’d notice if a horsefly went missing. And taking the north will be troublesome enough without goading its best strategist.”
“Please, Hashiba-dono, please. . . . ”
Another sigh. Hashiba looked at the prisoner for a moment, pensive, probably calculating benefits and risks. At last he said, “He cannot leave here alive.”
“Oh, thank you, Hashiba-dono.”
“You can thank me later. When you’re done with him, come on up to watch the moon with me.” He looked down at Shichio’s hand and the heavy, cloth-bound, platelike thing it was holding. “Bring that with you.”
“Count on it.”
Then Hashiba was gone and Shichio was alone with his prisoner. “I’m not going to tell you a damn thing,” the prisoner said.
“Oh, we already know that’s not true, don’t we? Yes, we do. It only takes a few drinks to get you talking. Well, I won’t be giving you much to drink, but you’ll find Lord Toyotomi’s other methods are equally tongue-loosening.Now, you’re not going to be so stupid as to run, are you?”
The man stuck out his chin and squared his shoulders.
“No? Good. Our destination isn’t far. I’d just as soon ask you my questions here—they’re going to replace the floors in this room anyway, aren’t they? You might as well do all your bleeding here. But you heard the regent.”
• • •
The prisoner followed obediently to the little outbuilding near the slaughterhouse—not that he had much choice, being prodded along by two of Shichio’s bodyguards. He blanched when he saw
Jun bowed, gave Shichio the tiniest of glances, and made himself scarce. General Mio gave a curt bow and headed toward the moon tower. Shichio stepped into the audience chamber and Hashiba followed, sliding the shoji shut behind him.
“Hashiba-dono,” Shichio said.
“Not here.”
“We’re alone.”
Hashiba looked at the prisoner, who stood proudly despite his bound arms and the dust of the road on his clothing.
“This man is no one,” said Shichio, hooking a finger under Hashiba’s chin to pull his gaze back to his own face. “But if you’re worried about him talking, we can arrange to have his tongue cut out, can’t we?”
Hashiba took half a step backward. Usually he liked these little hints at violence. They made him feel powerful. But not tonight. “Who is he, Shichio? You’re up to something.”
“He’s no one. I swear to you. But I think he has information about an abbey of the Ikko sect.”
“Nonsense. We doused that fire years ago.”
“Perhaps. But even a single ember can give birth to a forest fire, neh ?”
“Ask Mio. He was around before your time. He’ll tell you: we put them to the sword by the thousands. Believe me, the Ikko Ikki are no threat to anyone.”
Shichio made a pouting face. “Let me ask this one anyway.”
Hashiba smirked. “Why? You’ve got no taste for asking questions anyhow—at least not in the way that guarantees the right answers.”
Shichio suppressed a shudder. He’d seen the fruits of Hashiba’s favored method. He’d seen the horrors of the battlefield too. Hashiba’s technique was indescribably, nightmarishly worse.
And despite Shichio’s efforts to conceal his revulsion, Hashiba saw through his mask. “You see?” he said. “All I have to do is mention real questioning and your blood runs cold.”
Hashiba had him cornered. But if there was one thing Shichio was good at, it was turning a position of weakness into a position of strength. “If I do it your way, you’ll let me ask my questions?”
Hashiba sighed. “If this is Tokugawa’s man, it’ll be nothing but trouble for me.”
“Come, now. He’ll never miss one man, will he?”
“Lord Penny-Pincher? He’d notice if a horsefly went missing. And taking the north will be troublesome enough without goading its best strategist.”
“Please, Hashiba-dono, please. . . . ”
Another sigh. Hashiba looked at the prisoner for a moment, pensive, probably calculating benefits and risks. At last he said, “He cannot leave here alive.”
“Oh, thank you, Hashiba-dono.”
“You can thank me later. When you’re done with him, come on up to watch the moon with me.” He looked down at Shichio’s hand and the heavy, cloth-bound, platelike thing it was holding. “Bring that with you.”
“Count on it.”
Then Hashiba was gone and Shichio was alone with his prisoner. “I’m not going to tell you a damn thing,” the prisoner said.
“Oh, we already know that’s not true, don’t we? Yes, we do. It only takes a few drinks to get you talking. Well, I won’t be giving you much to drink, but you’ll find Lord Toyotomi’s other methods are equally tongue-loosening.Now, you’re not going to be so stupid as to run, are you?”
The man stuck out his chin and squared his shoulders.
“No? Good. Our destination isn’t far. I’d just as soon ask you my questions here—they’re going to replace the floors in this room anyway, aren’t they? You might as well do all your bleeding here. But you heard the regent.”
• • •
The prisoner followed obediently to the little outbuilding near the slaughterhouse—not that he had much choice, being prodded along by two of Shichio’s bodyguards. He blanched when he saw
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