第93节

cetera...

Toh-Shiba would never have expressed his feelings for her in such

extravagant terms, but, by and large, they were reciprocated especially

after she had shown her gratitude in ways that sent his mind reeling.

But now that he was back in his official residence, his promise to let

her attend the ceremony began to look increasingly rash.

Even though his wife, Mishiko, was indisposed and would not be

accompanying him, the long-dog's presence at or anywhere near the Heron

Pool could be potentially embarrassing. She had sworn to die rather

than reveal their liaison, but if by some mischance she was unmasked

and traced back through the hire of the vehicle to him No.

It was sheer folly.

The solution to his predicament was simple. All he had to do was - do

nothing. But try as he might, he could not bring himself to reverse

his decision. Some mental imperative drove him forward, and he heard

his own, disembodied voice ordering his private secretary to secure a

wheeled carriage-box and the necessary porters.

The secretary, with his usual discretion, asked for the basic details

and timing of the journey, but did not attempt to establish the

identity or gender of the passenger. The Consul-General informed him

that the party in question was to be collected from his private retreat

on Two Island Lake and conveyed to the pavilion situated immediately to

the east of the Heron Pool.

There would be no servants in attendance, and the porters were to

return with the carriage-box as soon as its passenger had alighted.

Toh-Shiba could not quite understand the logic of this arrangement, but

it seemed the most sensible thing to do. The grounds of the pavilion

which was occupied by her fellow long-dog - bordered the flying field

behind the Heron Pool. If she removed her mask and borrowed a spare

set of his clothes, she could watch the proceedings from there without

attracting attention.

His secretary bowed himself out of the room, leaving Toh-Shiba feeling

enormously relieved that the matter had been disposed of.

The private secretary was the Consul-General's man, but one of his

office staff was receiving an additional stipend from another

quarter.

The news that the Consul-General's concubine was on the move was

rapidly conveyed to the Herald. Toshiro could scarcely believe his

ears when he heard where she was to be taken. How, in heaven's name,

had Brickman managed it?

After discovering when this transfer was due to take place, Toshiro

hurriedly completed his own preparations, and rode out followed by four

mounted standard-bearers from the government garrison. As envoys of

the Shogun, Heralds were always escorted when attending ceremonial

occasions.

He caught up with the sealed carriage-box on the eastern outskirts of

the tiny village of Marabara.

Motioning his escort to halt, Toshiro went on alone. The sight of the

Herald, resplendent in his black and red armour, coming up astern

stopped the porters dead in their tracks. They trundled the

carriage-box on to the grass verge and knelt with bowed heads,

expecting the magnificent horseman to pass by. When he stopped in

front of them, they experienced the same sense of dread that had

gripped Steve.

Adopting his most arrogant manner, Toshiro dismounted and warned the

trembling porters to remain forever deaf, dumb and blind to what was

about to take place. After their spokesman had assured him that their

memories were already blank, he ordered them to move thirty paces down

the road.

As they scurried away, Toshiro hitched the horse to one of the

trucking-poles of the carriage-box, untied a bag attached to the pommel

of his saddle and rapped his a