me to want payment in return? Or do you presume to tell me Shichio is a gift I should give you freely?”
“No, my lady. It’s just . . .” She could almost see him choosing his words, as if he had to paint each one in his mind before speaking it. “I had not thought of Shichio as a prize or a gift. He is vermin. The fly is not a gift for the whisk; the whisk is made to destroy the fly. So my question was not, why does my lady not offer me this gift, but rather, why does my lady tolerate the fly any longer than she must? I can be your whisk, Nene-dono. Please, do me the honor of using me to kill this pest.”
Much better, Nene thought. The poor boy had the wrong idea about his station, though. He was just another fly. Nene would trap them in the same jar. After that, it would be up to karma to decide which would die and which would escape the jar alive.
“I will do you that honor,” she said, “but I will not do it for nothing. I told you already: my husband is a consummate tactician. We can take his plaything away from him, but only by offering him something of greater value in exchange. Kill Shichio without his blessing and my husband’s wrath will be swift and terrible. Vermin he may be, but at the moment he is my husband’s favorite vermin.”
The Bear Cub did not like her answer, but he was wise enough to hold his tongue. “Find Streaming Dawn,” she said. “Give it to me and I will deliver Shichio to you.”
The boy nodded, deep in thought. At last he said, “May I ask one more question?”
He begins to learn his place, Nene thought. “You may.”
“Why me? My lady must have countless men at her disposal. Why not send one of them to find Streaming Dawn? For that matter, why not send them to kill Shichio?”
Her captain bristled, but Nene stayed him with a look. “You have met my husband,” she said. “He is fearsome when roused. Suffice it to say that there would be consequences if I were to deploy one of my own people against one of his. As for the blade, the simple truth is that you are expedient. My own agents have been unable to find this weapon; now I leave it to you to do better. But you must act quickly. Shichio is most vulnerable while he is here in the north. Once his plots and intrigues return him to my husband’s side, he will cling to him like a tick. I will not be able to pry him free a second time.”
Doubt played across the Bear Cub’s face like the clouds scudding over the moon. Nene wondered whether he meant to play her false, or whether his honor code denied him that possibility. Hideyoshi would assure her it was the latter; he had marveled aloud at this boy’s obsession with bushido. Nene didn’t know Daigoro well enough to make her own judgment, but she knew her husband was an exceptional judge of character. For now she would assume the boy would not double-cross her.
“I will find the blade if I can,” Daigoro said at last, “and I will give it to you if I can.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” said Nene, though she did not fail to note the conditions he’d placed on his promise. Now that she thought about it, the fact that he’d phrased it so carefully made it all the more likely that he was being honest. If he meant to lie, he could have promised her anything in the world.
“How shall I send word to you once I have it?”
“My husband rules everything from Echigo in the north to Satsuma in the south. You’re a clever young man. You will find someone who can get through to me.”
“With all due respect to your husband, my lady, not all of his daimyo are true. How am I to know that the person I reach out to will not immediately reach out to Shichio?”
Nene chided him with a look. “Believe me, Shichio is not well loved among the generals.”
“They need not love him; they need only know of him. Shichio has placed quite a price on my head. Can you say all of them are immune to greed? Are all of them so well-heeled that Shichio’s gold cannot tempt them?”