Part 59 (2/2)

Despite her husband's outrageous and insulting behaviour, she had never once uttered a word of complaint to her all-powerful brother, and maintained the same discreet, dignified silence amid those who were closest to her, concealing her distress behind a calm, serene manner.

Many took this as a studied indifference to her fate, but over the years Tos.h.i.+ro had discovered this was not so. The Lady Mis.h.i.+ko was desperately unhappy, and the Herald could not understand how anyone even an insensitive oaf like the Consul-General - could neglect and abuse a woman who, besides being extremely intelligent, artistic and of the highest rank, was also tender-hearted, sweet-natured and beautiful.

It was a pity, reflected Tos.h.i.+ro, that the Consul-General would die without realising how blind he had been. It would have added a bittersweet edge to his fall.

No matter. As the saying went: 'One man's loss...”

From one of his informants, Tos.h.i.+ro learned of the Consul-General's curious behaviour while inspecting the main post-house. The Herald could not fathom why the odious buffoon should suddenly have taken it into his head to move the 'mexican', but he was relieved the matter had been taken out of his hands. Tos.h.i.+ro was tied into an efficient network of informers but he did not, as he had boasted to Steve, have eyes and ears everywhere, and he was not able to move people around like p.a.w.ns on a chessboard. He had been able to get Steve re, gistered as a roadrunner because he appeared to all and sundry to be a Mute, and because the registration had taken place in the domain of the Mitsu-Bis.h.i.+, firm allies of the Shogun.

Things were different here. Masa-chusa and Rodiren were, in a sense, hostile territory, where the Herald was publicly received with the appropriate pomp and ceremony and privately viewed as a spy-master and agent provocateur. This was why he had to exercise extreme caution to avoid compromising himself and, by extension, the Shogun. Switching ident.i.ties from gra.s.s-monkey to long-dog was not quite as simple as Brickman seemed to think. Only one person could have provided forged papers - Ieyasu, the Court Chamberlain: the one person Tos.h.i.+ro dared not turn to. Life was already difficult enough without becoming enmeshed in that spider's web.

Without realising it, Nakane Toh-s.h.i.+ba had saved him a great deal of time and trouble and, unwittingly, had signed and sealed his own death warrant. If rocket power proved to be the answer, then the Consul-General would be among the first Iron Masters to take to the air. The letter ordering him to do so had already been written and was in Tos.h.i.+ro's possession - and he was burning with impatience to hand it over.

Two days later, Samurai-Major Ryos.h.i.+ - one of the top military men in Min-Orota's household - called at the residence to escort Tos.h.i.+ro to the Heron Pool. The Herald had no qualms about visiting the site in his official capacity. Unless he chose to make contact, there was no way Brickman could recognise him. Even if their paths crossed they were unlikely to come face to face; the raexican would have his nose in the dirt like all the other Mute slaves who worked there. And since Brickman did not speak a word of j.a.panese, he could not learn of his ident.i.ty through any conversation he might happen to overhear.

s.h.i.+gamitsu, the samurai-captain in charge of the Heron Pool, greeted the two men deferentially and, after a brief ceremony of welcome, led them past the workshops to where the first of three weighted launching trolleys stood at the edge of the flying-field.

A fifteen-foot section of wing and a beam carrying a crude tail a.s.sembly had been mounted on timber struts to simulate the aircraft the trolley would later hold. The front axle had been widened to give greater stability.

The vehicle was driven by four rockets encased in reusable tubes made of rolled bra.s.s with soldered and riveted joints. The tubes - about two feet long and three inches in diameter - were arranged in pairs, one above the other, and linked together by a short length of safety-fuse.

Tos.h.i.+ro, Ryos.h.i.+ and the other j.a.ps from Ba-satana inspected the vehicle closely. Its creator, a dark-haired long-dog who knelt submissively near by, did not rate a second glance. When s.h.i.+gamitsu had dealt with their questions, the long-dog sought his permission to proceed with the tests. s.h.i.+gamitsu referred the question to the Herald and Ryos.h.i.+ with the usual elaborate courtesy, then, upon receiving their a.s.sent, invited them to watch the proceedings from a safe distance.

The dark-haired long-dog applied a burning taper to the fuse. Two more slaves seized the sides of the trolley and ran it forward. The first pair of rockets flared into life. Shwaahh.pa-POWW.t Long searing tongues of flame erupted from the necked ends of the tubes. The stub-winged trolley went racing across the field, leaving two thin plumes of smoke in its wake.

Ppa-ppPOWW! The second pair of rockets ignited.

The speed of the trolley increased. A cry went up from the long-dogs gathered at the doors of the workshops as it hit a b.u.mp and became momentarily airborne, quickly followed by a groan as it dropped at an awkward angle, tore off the left front wheel, then cartwheeled several times before finally collapsing in a mangled heap.

Tos.h.i.+ro and Ryos.h.i.+ brushed aside the Heron Pool commander's abject apologies. The demonstration had shown that the propulsion system worked. A second trolley, rigged with the same rudimentary wing and tail, was wheeled out. Several more dressed stones were added to increase the weight, and the test was repeated.

This time, the trolley veered wildly from side to side but stayed in contact with the ground. When the rockets burned out, the trolley thundered on across the gra.s.s and - to the great delight of the watching Iron Masters exploded into matchwood as it hit the low stone wall at the far side of the field.

'Was that all?” enquired the Herald.

No. 'Brickman' still had a card to play. A third trolley was produced from the workshops, but this one was manned. In addition to the stub-wing and the tail perched on two struts at the rear, there were more struts at the front; a triangular cage in which a Mute slave was seated on a basket-weave chair. On closer inspection, Tos.h.i.+ro saw it was his co-conspirator - the disguised 'mexican'.

Hhhae to an untimely end demonstrating something that had already been shown to work. He had much more important things to do such as disposing of the Consul-General. His j.a.panese colleagues, unaware of his private concerns, watched avidly. All Iron Masters were fascinated with the aesthetics of savagery. In peacetime this was expressed through their pursuit of bloodsports - from c.o.c.kfighting to hunting with spear and bow. For them, the climactic kill was an essential part of life, and they now waited with gleeful antic.i.p.ation for the trolley and its rider to self-destruct against the stone wall.

Ppa-ppoing up at a high rate of knots. Time for the party trick. It hadn't been his idea, but he'd been obliged to go along with it in order to worm his way deeper into Cadillac's confidence. And it had better G.o.ddam work, he told himself. Otherwise they'd be s.h.i.+pping him out feet first.

The visiting Iron Masters and the motley crowd of unofficial spectators were unaware that, with s.h.i.+gamitsu's agreement, a low, gra.s.s-covered ramp had been secretly constructed on the far side of the field.

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