第13节

had been intended? Was the delivery of the craft with its

intriguing engine and its obliging rider an attempt to solicit further

interest as to what other items might be on offer? After years of

trading with the Mutes, Yama-Shita was clearly a person one could do

business with. And his wheelboats offered a secure delivery system for

goods and people. Was it possible that the Federation was seeking to

make contact with him via Mr Snow?

To respond to such a move would be high treason. It was also high

treason to flout the sacred edict concerning the Dark Light. But

Yama-Shita did not see himself as a traitor. He wished to preserve

Ne-Issan - but not necessarily in its present form. Peace and

prosperity were not enough. Yama-Shita wanted progress. To achieve

it, he would have to become Shogun. That meant displacing the

Toh-Yota. If the knowledge that lay behind the Federation's war

machines could help him do that, then, under the right conditions, he

might come to an arrangement. And when he had achieved absolute power,

he would use that same knowledge to defeat the long-dogs, destroy their

underground kingdom and remove all trace of their presence from the

face of the earth.

Yama-Shita knew that any kind of deal with the Federation was fraught

with danger, but he was already running an immense risk in

contemplating the capture of the Dark Light. He was not even sure if

he had the courage to translate such thoughts into action. Were he to

do so, he would be forced to obtain the devices used by the spinners

and weavers. These forbidden objects, and the materials from which

they were made, could only be brought into Ne-Issan when his position

was unassailable.

In the meantime, there was no harm in keeping his options open. He

would keep his word and deliver the promised shipment of rifles to the

M'Calls. He would not seek to punish Mr Snow or his clan for

attempting to deceive him; he would not seek to reproach him or even

ask for an explanation. He would simply bring the old fox and the

female long-dog face to face and watch what happened when he saw the

change in her dress and appearance and heard, from her own lips, that

she and the cloud warrior were being well treated and that neither yet

wished to return to the Plainfolk.

From the moment he set eyes on her, Mr Snow would bereft in no doubt

that he, Yama-Shita, the most powerful domain-lord in Ne-Issan, knew

everything. But the wordsmith would be able to read nothing from his

face, for that would be hidden behind a black and gold mask.

He would address his visitor with the same elaborate degree of courtesy

he would offer to a fellow-samurai; his voice and demeanour conveying

no hint of approval, or disapproval. It would be up to Mr Snow and his

unknown associates to interpret his silence on the subject, and make

their next move accordingly.

Nakane Toh-Shiba, the Consul-General, had been under strict

instructions to say nothing to the long-dog apart from disclosing that

she was to be transported to another location, but it was all to no

avail. Plunged into despair at the thought of their coming separation,

he had been hopelessly indiscreet. Knowing that the man's tongue was

as restless as his dong, Lord Min-Orota had taken care not to tell him

the whole story, but the moment Clearwater knew she was to meet

YamaoShita at Kari-faran, she had guessed that the domain-lord must be

taking her to see Mr Snow. April was the month when the Plainfolk

began to prepare for the 'walk on the water' - the name they gave to

the brief period of peace when the rival clans gathered at the trading

post at the edge of the Great River.

Since Cadillac was, apparently, quite content to remain at the Heron

Pool, Clearwater knew she would have to return to Ne-Issan. In fact,

she had no choice in the matter. When she had turned on the tears at

the news of their forthcoming separation, the Consul-General had been

quick to console her. He had, he assured her, extracted solemn

guarantees from YamaShita that she would be provided with every comfort

and returned to him unharmed.

Clearwater knew there was no time to lose. She begged to be allowed to

take a small token of his affections with her. Something she could

caress in the hours, the days, the weeks they would be apart. A small