James Clavell - Gai-Jin

"Yes." Sir William sighed and again made an effort--it was up to him to give the example and by God he was going to act like Her Britannic Majesty's Minister for Japan should act.

"Yes it is but look there, by God!" On the bluff the tented camp was undamaged. "All our soldiers are safe, cannon safe, artillery safe, all armaments and the munition depot as ever was. And look there!"

In the bay the fleet was unscathed, Union Jacks and ensigns flying proudly and with dawn passing into day, every available cutter plied back and forth bringing men ashore or taking them aboard for food, drink, and sleep. "All the rest is replaceable, by Harry, except people. Get some soldiers, start counting heads and mounts. I need to know who we've lost by the nine-thirty meeting.

Off you go!"

"Yes sir. Most of the stables were opened and the horses bolted for the racecourse or bluff. I saw Zergeyev's stallion there with a couple of grooms." Suddenly Pallidar beamed, no longer as shattered. "You're right, Sir William, my God how right. So long as the Army and Navy are safe, we're all all right, everything's all right. Thanks."

He galloped off.

Sir William turned his attention inland.

What to do, what to do? His pony jingled her bridles nervously and pawed the ground, sensing his disquiet.

"Morning, Sir William." Grey with fatigue, Jamie McFay was approaching from behind the remains of a building that now was a heap of twisted metal frames, the remains of bedsteads, furniture and charred wood. His clothes were tattered, burnt in places, hair matted.

"How many lost? What's the latest?"

"Nothing for certain yet. Good God, is that ... is that all that's left of the Guardian building and the presses?"

"'fraid so. But here." Jamie held the bridle and handed him a badly printed sheet with a smudged banner headline that screamed: YOKOHAMA TORCHED. ARSON SUSPECTED.

STRUAN'S AND BROCK'S UNTOUCHED, ARMY, NAVY AND ALL SHIPPING SAFE. FATALITIES EXPECTED TO BE HEAVY IN THE YOSHIWARA AND VILLAGE. Then a brief editorial, with a promise that an afternoon edition would be out and apologies for the bad printing.

"Nettlesmith's over there." Under a rough lean-to they could see Nettlesmith, unkempt and filthy, laboriously working the press by hand, his printer clerks sorting type into trays still salvaging what they could from the ashes.

"I heard you pulled a number of villagers out of a building, saved their lives, Jamie."

It was still hard for Jamie to think straight.

Vaguely he recalled never finding Nemi, or news of her, but not about the others. "I don't remember much about it, it was chaos everywhere--others were doing the same, or helping folk to the hospital..." His head was swimming with fatigue. "Last night I heard Phillip was lost. Is it true?"

"Don't know. Hope to God not, though I heard the rumor too." Sir William exhaled loudly. "I heard the same and there are lots of rumors but I've learned not to trust rumor. Zergeyev was reported dead in the Yoshiwara, so was Andr`e, but I saw him a short time ago, Zergeyev. So, as I said, best to wait." He indicated the tear sheet. "Can I keep this, Jamie? Thanks. I've convened a meeting at nine-thirty, to discuss what we should do, your opinion would be valuable."

"Not much to discuss, is there. I'm wiped out."

"There's lots to discuss, Jamie. We're really very lucky. The Army and Navy..."

Sir William glanced off, and raised his hat.

"'morning Miss Maureen." She was still in the same clothes but clean and fresh and wore a bonnie smile.

"'morning Sir William, glad to see you're safe and that the Legation's safe. 'morning, love." Her smile became even more special.

She put her arm through Jamie's, careful not to be forward and kiss him however much she wanted to--he looked so handsome in his charred clothes, his face unshaven and etched with worry, nothing that hot soup and hot whisky and a good sleep would not cure.

On the way here to find him, many had told her how brave he had been during the night. Most of her night had been spent calming Mrs.Lunkchurch and Mrs. Swann, their spouses and others at the Struan outpost, doling out the demon drink as her mother called all liquor--though not in her father's presence--attending to burns or taking them to Hoag or Babcott who had set up field hospitals as near to the worst areas as possible. "You look fine, Jamie, just tired out."

"No more than others."

Knowing he had been forgotten--and not a little envious--Sir William saluted with his quirt.

"See you later, Jamie. Miss Maureen."

They watched him canter away. Her arm and nearness felt good to Jamie. All at once his unhappiness and apprehension for the future surged and he turned and hugged her with the full measure of his misery. She melted against him, so happy, and waited, and gave him of her strength.

In time he felt his wits revive, his courage returning and his sense of belonging easing back. "Bless you, I can't believe it but you've made me come alive again, bless you." Then he remembered Tess and the five thousand Maureen had wheedled out of her, and Maureen saying, Tomorrow things will no' be so bad, and his joy exploded.

"By God, Sparkles," he said, hugging her again, "you're right. We're alive and lucky and everything's going to be fine and it's all due to you!"

"Now dinna exaggerate, laddie," she said with a little smile, head against his, not letting go of him yet. "Nothing to do with me." It's to do with God, she was thinking, that's His special gift to us women as His gift to men is to do the same for women at special times. "It's just life." She used "life" but she could have said, "love" but did not though totally sure that's what it truly was.

"I'm proud of you, lassie. You were grand last night."

"Och aye, but I did na do a thing at all.

Come along, it's time to nap."

"No time to nap, I've got to see the shoya."

"A nap before the meeting, I'll wake you with a cup of tea. You can use my bed, Albert says it's our room for as long as we want and I'll throw everyone else out."

Smiling through his exhaustion, he said, "What are you going to do?"

She hugged him. "I'll hold your hand and tell you a bedtime story. Come along."

Tyrer opened his eyes and found himself in hell, every bone aching, every breath abrading his chest, eyes burning and skin tormented. In the acrid, smoky black he could see disembodied Japanese faces peering at him, two of them, their mouths twisted with cruel smiles and any moment they would pull up their pitchforks and begin to torture him again. A face moved closer. He backed, and let out a cry of pain. Through the mist he heard Japanese and then in English, "Taira-sama, wake, you safe!"

The fog enveloping his mind dissipated.

"Nakama?"

"Yes. You safe."

Now he perceived the light was from an oil lamp, they seemed to be in a cave and Nakama was smiling at him. So was the other face. Saito!

Nakama's cousin, the one interested in ships...

No, this isn't Nakama, this is Hiraga the assassin!

He jerked up and fell back against the wall of the tunnel, his headache blinding him for a moment, and coughed and coughed, bile and a foul taste of smoke making him heave. When there was no more to come up and the spasm had passed, he felt a cup pressed to his lips. He drank the icy water eagerly, choking a little. "Sorry," he murmured. Again Hiraga wrapped the blanket around his half-burnt sleeping kimono. "Thanks."

In a minute he had caught his breath, mind slowly moving from blank to a kaleidoscope of images, coalescing into more pictures, blazing walls, Hiraga grabbing him out of a blaze and running, falling and being helped up, Teahouses collapsing around him, shrubs exploding in their faces, can't breathe, gagging, can't breathe, Hiraga shouting, "Quick, this way... no, this way, no back, this way..." something missing but picking himself up again, fleeing this way and that, guided through walls of fire in front and behind and to the side, women screaming, smoke, and then at the well head, the fire reaching for them, almost at them, "Down, down there, hurry," ducking into it, fire searing, a light below, an orb in the darkness, Saito's face, and then like a thunderbolt...