Yes, reflected Yoritomo, these were troubled times.
Absolute power was a dangerously seductive brew that had to be handled
with caution - even more so when it was absolute in name only. There
were moments when the task of governing became a crushing burden. On
the nights when he lay awake, trying to decide on the correct course of
action, Yoritomo often found himself wishing he could exchange his life
for the quieter and more rewarding existence of a saddle-maker, an
armourer, or a swordsmith. Being Shogun was an awesome responsibility
- especially when you were only twenty-eight years old.
It was towards the Shogun's summer palace at Yedo that Toshiro
Hase-Gawa now journeyed aboard a ferryboat from Nyo-poro, a fishing
village on the coast of Rodiren.
The boat - a wide-hulled barge with steam-powered paddles - steered a
westerly course close to the shore, then headed out across the channel
following the line of islands that led to the north-eastern tip of
Arongiren.
Despite the fact that the ferry was flying his two personal banners
which identified him as a government official, they were intercepted
within sight of land by a watchboat, and boarded by a detachment of
sea-soldiers.
Once a gangway had been secured between the two vessels, the
watch-captain hurried aboard the ferry where, after a deferential
exchange of greetings, he courteously asked for further proof of
Toshiro's identity.
When Toshiro's papers bearing the Shogun's personal seals had been
reverentially examined, and the ferry thoroughly searched, the
watch-captain withdrew his men and offered his profuse apologies for
the inexcusable delay. Toshiro responded in similar vein.
Had the watch-captain been less zealous, and the search less thorough,
he would have had cause to be angry. The sea-soldiers were only
carrying out orders and their exemplary bearing brought honour to their
regiment and, above all, to their commander. Et cetera, et cetera.
An hour later, the flat, drawbridge bow of the ferry was lowered on to
the slipway at On-enita, whose only virtue lay in the fact that it was
situated at the point where the northern road met the sea. Alerted by
the banners carried above the ferry's small wheelhouse, the lowly
harbour officials and the few fisherfolk who happened to be ashore
gathered expectantly on either side of the road leading away from the
beach. The atmosphere of expectancy increased as two sailors carefully
removed the banners from the roof of the wheelhouse and took them
below. Shortly afterwards, the crew of the ferry assembled on the
