The Sensei begging for mercy? All those years idolizing him, listening to him? We were dupes, he thought, disgusted. Never mind, that coward will be derided and spat on in news sheets, and soon bards and plays will orate the story how he betrayed Sumomo and Koiko and the mama-san's revenge--and death wish. Ah, what style she had!

Involuntarily he chuckled nervously and mimicked the high-pitched voice of an onnagata--a male actor who specialized in female roles, only men being allowed on the stage. ""A bath and clean clothes.

Please?"' Kabuki and puppet theatres will fill houses with that for generations!"

"Baka on the kabuki," Takeda said, fuming. "The Sensei will be revenged. Honor will be redeemed. Tonight we attack as planned, you take the ship, I take the church and the other church and kill every gai-jin I meet till I am dead. What do you say Akimoto?" He got up and peered out of the window. Night was not far.

Suddenly he noticed the wind rustling the shrubs.

"Look! It's a sign from the gods! The wind is picking up. It's from the south!"

Akimoto leapt beside him. "It's true, Hiraga!"

For a moment Hiraga was thrown off balance. Was it a sign? "No attack, not tonight. No attack!"

Takeda whirled. "I say attack." He glared at Akimoto. "You agree?

Sonno-joi!"

Akimoto was teetering. Both Takeda's rage and confidence were infectious. "Fire would cover our escape, Hiraga."

"A, a little one, perhaps," Hiraga said irritably, "not an attempt to burn all Yokohama." His brain was oscillating and he had no solution yet other than his final plan, and no way to effect that without Taira's help and purging Yoshi's grasp from around his neck. "Tomorrow or the next day, we cou--"

"Tonight," Takeda said insistently, his anger barely in check. "Tonight's a gift, the gods speak to us!"

"At this time of the year the wind will hold. We need more men to fire the Settlement. One of us should go to Yedo for them. Takeda, you could go."

"How? You said Enforcers are everywhere. How?"

"I don't know, Takeda." Shakily Hiraga got up. "Wait till I get back, then we can decide. I'll see Raiko, tell her we'll leave tomorrow--we won't but that's what I'll say."

"She's not to be trusted anymore."

"I keep telling you, she never was."

Hiraga went and found her.

"All right, Hiraga-sama, you may stay."

Raiko was over the panic, brandy in her stomach, dully allowing fate to be fate.

"Is Taira here tonight?"

"No, nor tomorrow. Furansu-san is. I know he is."

"Send for Taira. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes, and when he arrives what should I tell him?" she said listlessly, then jerked awake as Hiraga ground the words through his teeth. "You tell him, Raiko, that Fujiko has decided she no longer wishes to sign a contract, that another gai-jin has approached you with a better business arrangement."

"But her contract price is fantastical good, he is no fool, he'll compare prices and I'll lose him to another house, he's already visited some. I'll lose him."

"You will lose your head if the turmoil you're in isn't solved," he said sourly, "and the rest of your well-fed corpse will be feeding fishes."

"Solved?" She became all attention. "There is a chance, Hiraga-sama? I've a chance?

You know of a way?"

"Do as you're told and I may be able to save you. Send for Taira now." Coldly, Hiraga looked at her and went back to the other two. They were on the veranda watching the bushes bent by the wind.

"We're safe for a day or two."

Takeda said with a sneer, "Little does she know she's dead, and tonight Yokohama will be dead, cleaned of vermin."

"We will delay one day. Tomorrow night is best."

Takeda's anger began to return. "Why?"

"Do you want a chance of escape? To deal the death blow but live to enjoy it? All of us? I agree with you it is time. You are right, Takeda.

But tomorrow gives me time to plan."

After a moment, Takeda said, "Akimoto?"

"Let us agree to delay. To escape as well... Hiraga's wise, Takeda, neh?"

The silence grew immense. "Delay. One day. I agree." Takeda got up and left for his hideaway in the next Teahouse.

After a moment, Hiraga said, "Akimoto, in a little while, go and sit with him, reassure him."

"He's Satsuma, Cousin. Katsumata was Satsuma."

Hiraga glanced at the shrubs bent by the south wind. "Sit with him. Reassure him."

Tyrer was appalled. "No contract, Raiko-san?"

"No, so sorry, Fujiko has changed her mind and has a much better offer, so sorry but she's adamant."

"Please?" he asked, missing most of her Japanese.

She repeated it, adding, "That's why I asked to see you urgently. So sorry, she won't see you, tonight or ever."

All of Tyrer's being plunged into a pit.

He questioned her in his most polite and best Japanese but she shook her head. "So sorry," she said with finality, bowing a dismissal.

"Good night, Taira-sama."

As if a drunkard, Tyrer went out onto the veranda. The shoji slid shut. He stumbled onto the garden path, cursed as he realized he had forgotten his shoes. In a daze he sat on the veranda and slipped them on. "What the hell's happened?"

Three days ago, when he had returned with Babcott from Yedo, all had been perfect, the contract agreed but for one minor point, payment was to be made within the week. His previous bill had been settled to smiles and bows, with Fujiko that night more loving and sweeter than ever before. This evening, when Raiko had sent a servant to the house he shared with Babcott, asking him to see her urgently, he had presumed, amused, it was just to sign the paper. He had left a message earlier that probably he could not come tonight nor would he be available tomorrow--he was due to go to Kanagawa.

And now this. "I don't understand." Gusts swirling more leaves around his feet. Miserably, he pulled his coat closer around him. The night seemed blacker than before. With a great sigh he got up and plodded down the meandering path, stopped abruptly as a samurai almost bumped into him.

"Christ Almighty, Nakama!" he burst out.

Hiraga went for his sword and Tyrer thought he was a dead man. But the sword stayed half in the scabbard and he saw the eyes staring at him on a hair trigger... "Don't," Tyrer said, his voice choked at the sudden apparition, "I'm... I'm not armed." He raised his arms in surrender, froze, cursing himself for his stupidity, almost died again as Hiraga slammed the sword back into its scabbard.

"Taira-sama, I not hurt you, I thought you enemy. You are friend." Hiraga smiled and stuck out his hand.

Blankly Tyrer shook it then erupted, "What are you doing, we thought you'd fled to Yedo, what's this about being ronin? We have to turn you over to him, to Yoshi, you know Yoshi is after you, Lord Yoshi?"

"Not here!" Hiraga cautioned and took his arm and Tyrer felt the iron grip, "Come with me."

Motioning him to silence, he guided him down another path, into another in the maze of little pathways well screened from each other by hedges, until Tyrer had lost all sense of direction.

Then this path ended at a bungalow. Wind tugged at the thatch, whining in the rafters.

Hiraga motioned him onto the veranda, kicked off his own shoes and waited until Tyrer had done the same then pushed him forward. "Inside, p'rease."

Wet with fear and powerless, Tyrer obeyed. There was no chance to run. He saw Hiraga look carefully to see if they had been followed. The shoji slid to. A shaded candle dimly lit the interior of the usual one-room house, a tiny bathroom adjoining. The flame guttered and almost went out in the draft.

"Sit! P'rease. Now, say again but not fast, keep voice down." Ominously Hiraga took his short sword out of his belt and laid it on the tatami beside him. "So?"