第7节

m that was as old as Time itself.

It was laudable of the young man to seek a return to the purer forms of

conduct as prescribed by bushido: it was right that he should place new

emphasis on its central tenet, girl - the sense of duty and

obligation.

Without it there would be anarchy! But the drive to impose a stricter

morality was counterproductive.

Human beings were flawed creatures that could never attain the

perfection of the higher kami. Their inherent venality always surfaced

sooner or later and, deplorable though it might be, it was through

their weaknesses that they could be more effectively controlled.

Sinners were easier to do business with. And also much better

company.

Despite his advanced years, Ieyasu had not forgotten how to enjoy

himself. And in his case, it was not only the spirit that was

willing.

The pebble garden was made up of a subtle arrangement of rocks set amid

an undulating sea of fine gravel which had been raked into a seamless

pattern of lines and whorls. Each morning at first light, and at

various times throughout the day, leaves, twigs and all other

extraneous matter were assiduously removed by a team of light-footed

gardeners who raked the gravel back into place as they made their

exit.

When the Shogun came, the garden was always magically restored to

pristine condition. It was a landscape frozen in time, an exquisitely

harmonious arrangement of line and tone, texture and mass which, like

all great masterworks, constantly revealed new depths to the eye of the

beholder. It induced serenity and invited profound contemplation,

rewarding and restoring those whose minds were able to achieve the

necessary degree of stillness.

Yoritomo was one of those who drew strength from the garden - a

treasured re-creation of a fragment of a past life in a place known to

the chroniclers as The World Before. Yoritomo had fallen under its

magic spell at the age of nine, and from then on had made daily visits

to the same spot on the top step of the veranda whenever his branch of

the family had been in residence at Yedo. His feelings toward it had

not changed- only now, no one else was allowed to sit in his chosen

place which, upon his accession, had assumed the status of a shrine.

Although austere by nature, Yoritomo was not, and had no wish to

become, an ascetic saint-like figure.

During his adolescence, his periods of contemplation had been

sandwiched in between the normal activities and youthful excesses one

would expect a young nobleman to indulge in. Sensual delights, while

not encouraged, were not forbidden and although young samurai were

taught that the companionship of other warriors was preferable to that

of women, they were not always able to resist the lure of a sentimental

- and sometimes illicit - relationship.

And neither could the new Shogun.

Toshiro, now clad in a broad-shouldered kimono of dark-toned brocaded

silk, approached the guard-captain whose men were posted round the

perimeter of the pebble garden. Both samurai wore white headbands

fastened at the nape of the neck over wigs made of Mute hair, swept

upwards to form the traditional top-knot. The guard-captain's headband

bore the usual blood-red disc flanked by two word-signs denoting his

rank and function.

On Toshiro's headband, the Shogun's bird emblem took the place of the

red disc. A long and short sword, housed in gently curving scabbards,

were thrust through the sash around his waist.

Had he been anyone else, he would have been obliged to remove them

but, as a Herald of the Inner Court, he had the right to bear arms in

the presence of the Shogun.

It was a sign of the extraordinary trust Yoritomo had in this band of

young men. It was not entirely by chance that Toshiro happened to be

the same age as the Shogun.

None of the new Heralds chosen by Yoritomo was over thirty; the

youngest was twenty-five.