Nobility, reflected Kamakura, was not all it was trumped up to be. It
was the samurai ethic that was the bulwark against mental and physical
corruption, and he was thankful that the new Shogun was the embodiment
of all he held dear. Unfortunately, Yukio, his wife who, as a young
concubine, had pleasured the present Shogun's father did not share this
jaundiced view of the nobility even though her lord and master, in a
fit of generosity, had presented her to Kamakura in return for services
rendered. Yukio, then a slim girl with a flawless, resilient body, had
submitted dutifully as her status demanded but, like all women, she had
found ways to convey her resentment.
That was in the beginning. Their relationship had improved in the
intervening years for, with time, he had proved a reasonable catch,
especially when Yoritomo, on his accession to power, had promoted him
to the rank of guard-captain and, at the same time, had swept the
remaining sybarites out of his father's 'pleasure dome'.
But the gilded life of the Inner Court leaves an indelible mark.
Kamakura knew that, in her heart of hearts, Yukio wished she could have
married into the nobility which, for a daughter of a well-to-do
merchant family, had not been beyond the bounds of possibility. There
were times when even Kamakura wished he could have been born with a
silver cup to his lips. But he was old enough and wise enough to know
that the fledgling heirs to wealth, power and privilege often found
themselves holding a poisoned chalice.
Entering the palace, Toshiro presented himself to Ieyasu, the Court
Chamberlain, and learned that word of his arrival had already reached
the Shogun. The Herald was to join him in the pebble garden as soon as
he had cleansed his travel-stained body.
Ieyasu, a tall angular man with a lined, cadaverous face, prided
himself on his efficiency. How it was achieved was something of a
mystery to Toshiro. Ieyasu never seemed to do anything and on the rare
occasions.
Toshiro had seen him in motion, each gesture, like his speech, was
slow, deliberate and precise. He exuded a quality of stillness - and a
disquieting degree of menace like a female spider poised at the centre
of an invisible web of power.
Toshiro thanked the Chamberlain in the customary manner and exited
backwards from his presence.
Ieyasu made his way to the window and watched Toshiro swagger across
the small courtyard below followed by the two pages who carried his
travelling bags. Such energy! Such muscular dedication! Where would
it all end? Under the previous Shogun, Ieyasu had acted as a filter
