side he could see pinholes of sunlight through some of them—some, but not all. Shichio did not think that detail was important until he saw a shifting shadow blot out one of the pinholes.
“Not enough swords,” he mused. “Shall I take that as a threat? Yes, perhaps I will. How many soldiers have you hidden in that grotesque tower of yours, lurking behind those cannoniers? Tell me, is there an arquebus trained on me as we speak? Do you think your good karma will outweigh the bad if you wait until my thirsty men have drunk of your water before you gun them down?”
Again he studied the little daimyo’s reaction. If House Inoue still counted the Bear Cub among its allies, now might be the moment he ordered his arquebusiers to fire. If Lord Inoue was smart enough not to bring the wrath of Toyotomi Hideyoshi on his house, he might still be in league with the Bear Cub, in which case his face might betray some sign of his repressed desire to kill Shichio and his men. At a minimum, he should exhibit some small degree of shame in threatening his guests.
But Inoue was inscrutable. “My lord, you misunderstand me. Why should I threaten you?”
“Because the Bear Cub is your son-in-law.”
“Was. Now he is a vagabond. But that is why I caution you. The boy has nothing to lose. He slew fifty at the Green Cliff, my lord. Your twenty swords are not enough.”
“Fifty!” Shichio clucked his tongue as if chiding a schoolboy who did not know his sums. “I have heard that rumor. And others. His sword fells three men in a single blow. He drinks poison as other men drink sake. He commandeered a frigate single-handed, and now he rides the waves as a pirate king. Shall I tell you stories of dragons and tengu next?”
“My lord, do you mean to tell me the fifty are a myth?”
Shichio gave him a tiny smile. Inoue was the very picture of befuddlement. He had more spies than any man in Izu. Not much of an accomplishment, but still, the Green Cliff was only a few dozen ri from where he sat. Surely his spies could not have bollixed the tale completely. And he was well aware that Shichio should have known every detail. After all, it was his fifty that fell.
“Not a myth,” Shichio said, “but not the whole truth. Fifty men, the whole garrison, all slaughtered in the night. That much is true. But do you honestly believe the whelp acted alone? No. He hired shinobi from the Kansai. Hordes of them. Even assassins of the Wind. And his retainer was with him, a shabby ronin but a fell hand with a blade.”
Inoue nodded. “Katsushima Goemon. I know the man. Shabby, as you say, but quick as a snake. My eyes and ears tell me the two still travel together. All the more reason for you to travel in force, my lord. It would not do for a man of your station to be cut down on the road.”
Shichio sipped from his teacup to conceal his dismay. I have no station, he thought, and you know that damn well. All of my wedding guests know it.
Everything had been arranged: Shichio would marry the Bear Cub’s mother, Lady Okuma Yumiko. That would give him control of House Okuma’s troops, who knew the Izu Peninsula better than any of Shichio’s men. They would hunt down the Bear Cub. In the meantime, Shichio—now become Lord Okuma Izu-no-kami Shichio—would lay claim to name, rank, title, and station. He would leave his peasant blood behind him for good and all.
He had no love for the samurai. In truth, the prospect of becoming one of them chafed a little. As far as Shichio was concerned, the samurai were the source of every trouble in these islands, but as Hashiba’s chief quartermaster he had no choice but to serve with them. He had no patience for their disrespect, and becoming samurai himself would bring an end to that.
Instead, what followed was the most embarrassing incident of Shichio’s life. He’d known in advance that Lady Okuma was quite mad. As it happened, that suited his plans perfectly. He wanted to be a lord, not a husband, and he certainly had no intention of staying in Izu. His home was in Kyoto, at Hashiba’s side. But little did he imagine how deep the woman’s lunacy ran. She rebuffed him to marry an infant—an infant!—and Shichio was left