The Amtrack Wars - Earth Thunder Part 34

For Mishiko, accompanied by two maid-servants, it was love at first sight. A white knight on a black charger.

She had never seen someone so handsome, so ...

beautiful. As her path through the wood ran parallel with the road, she watched him spellbound, caught her foot under an exposed root and fell, twisting her ankle painfully.

Toshiro, hearing her cry, had dismounted and run to her aid. By the time he reached her side, her maidservants had restored her to an upright position. Toshiro was the very model of solicitude- and even better-looking close-up than he was from afar. A greater contrast to her bloated toad of a husband would have been hard to imagine.

There was the usual exchange of courtesies, and it was that which sealed their fate. Once Mishiko discovered that the young man who had rushed to her aid had an impeccable social pedigree, her ankle took a sudden turn for the worse. Toshiro - as she hoped - would brook no argument. He insisted on carrying her to his horse and placed her sideways on the saddle. Mishiko, on being lifted up in his strong arms, had almost fainted with pleasure, and from that moment on, she could think of nothing else but the moment when those same strong arms, stripped of their armour, would enfold her naked body.

The grey forms emerging from the swirling smoke coalesced into lifelike shapes and were suffused with natural colour. And there he was, magically and gloriously restored as in that first unforgettable moment, seated on his horse, with the sun raying through the forest behind him, flaring brightly off the polished bra.s.s helmet crest that marked him out as a trusted servant of her brother, the Shogun.

His face was shadowed against the autumn sun, but her heart leapt as he dismounted, reached her in one stride and gathered her into his arms.

She embraced him eagerly,-moulding her body against his, and as she did so, his armour seemed to melt away, becoming a soft silken kimono through which she could feel the muscled hardness of his stomach and thighs. She clasped his face in her hands and covered it with kisses.

It was only then, as he drew away, that she saw - and was shocked by his haggard expression, the deathly greyness around the staring, red-rimmed eyes.

Her beloved Herald had not been brought back to life.

She could feel his presence, hear his voice, but the physical contact was a bitter-sweet illusion wrought by the power of witches' magic.

Toshiro was, and would remain, a spirit ent.i.ty, but there was more.

Despite the love which still bound them together, this was a soul in torment - a torment which only she had the power to ease.

Using the images stored in Mishiko's brain, Roz produced a series of vignettes featuring Ieyasu, the secretary Shikobu and the Shogun - her brother Yoritomo.

The vignettes were moving, three-dimensional recreations of the recent past that Mishiko was able to walk into and observe at close quarters without being seen by the characters within.

Roz was working to a script mapped out by Cadillac.

It was his voice Mishiko heard throughout. He could not use his powers of mimicry because he had never heard Ieyasu, the Shogun or Shikobu speak, but in this instance it did not matter. All Roz's powers were concentrated on a single mind and this enabled her to convince Mishiko that when she saw her brother speak, it was his voice she was hearing.

The sunlit woods dissolved into a shifting abstract pattern of rainbow colours then became a room that Mishiko recognised as being part of Ieyasu's quarters in the Winter Palace. The Herald took her hand and led her into it.

Ieyasu sat crosslegged on the floor with a strange black box in front of him. Shikobu, one of his senior secretaries, was seated at a low writing table, with paper, brushes and ink blocks ready to hand.

Mishiko circled slowly round the much-feared figure of the Chamberlain and was relieved to discover he was totally oblivious to her presence.

Both she and the Herald were invisible.

Ieyasu reached out a thin bony hand and twiddled various k.n.o.bs and small levers. Little red and green studs s.p.a.ced along the top of the box gleamed like jewels. Moving closer, she caught sight of several small white calligraphic symbols; the j.a.panese characters for 'send', 'receive', 'volume', 'frequency' and 'record'. But this box had not been fashioned by Iron Masters; this was the work of outlanders, those skilled in the High Craft.

Mishiko jumped back in alarm and sought rea.s.surance from the Herald as the sound of a human voice burst from the box. Shikobu listened closely as Ieyasu touched two or three of the k.n.o.bs. The disembodied voice became softer and clearer. Mastering her amazement at the fact that a box could be made to speak, Mishiko tried to grasp what it was saying.

-The Herald squeezed her arm and whispered: 'The voice comes from afar.

It is carried on the air like a leaf in the wind, but it is propelled by the power of the Dark Light!" Mishiko took another step backwards.

She knew nothing whatever about this dread subject and didn't want to.

Even the mere mention of it was bad news. 'It cannot be!

Such things are forbidden!" 'To you and I, and the other loyal subjects of your 'brother, yes, they are! But Ieyasu has placed himself above the law! He uses this demonic power to betray us and gain more power for himself! Listen!" Mishiko turned her attention back to the voice coming from the box and caught her breath.

'... as you know, mi'lord, the Herald Hase-Gawa has long suspected that we have been armed with speaking and listening devices filled with the Dark Light to maintain control over the nation's affairs. At the moment, he has no tangible proof to offer the Shogun, but he is a dangerous adversary. He should be eliminated before he is in a position to harm our organisation."

Ieyasu responded with a thin smile. 'Do not worry, Tohijo. We have already laid plans to discredit him and destroy the Shogun's faith in the entire College of Heralds. Yoritomo will soon come back under our wing when he reads the letter Hase-Gawa will post- and which One of my agents will intercept."

'Which letter is this?" asked the far-away voice.

'The letter Shikobu is about to write! Besides having a gift for fairy tales, he is also an accomplished forger!" Ieyasu gave a gloating laugh and signalled his secretary to apply brush to paper.

Mishiko gasped in horror and once again turned to the Herald for support. 'Is this the letter which caused my brother to demand your life?!" 'Yes,' sighed Toshiro.

The room dissolved around them and became the room the Shogun used for confidential meetings at the Summer Palace. Yoritomo sat on the raised section of the floor with his personal bodyguard of five samurai ranged in a semi-circle behind him. The Herald left Mishiko's side and knelt down immediately below the dais. He put his nose to the spotless straw matting then sat back attentively and waited for the Shogun to speak, 'Have the' long-dogs agreed to help us destroy the Heron Pool?"

'Yes, my lord. The Federation has delivered the necessary devices and everything is in place. A ma.s.sive, blow will be struck against those who have conspired to bring down your n.o.ble house."

'And will this blow rid me of Lord Yama-s.h.i.ta and that swine Kiyo Min-Orota?"

'They cannot be targeted personally, sire, but the viewing stand in which they will be seated during the flying display will be destroyed."

'Good. I wish you to perform an additional task."

Toshiro bowed. 'I am yours to command, sire."

'The Consul-General Nakane Toh-Shiba. I can no longer tolerate his dissolute behaviour. He defiles my sister and dishonours my house. I cannot bear to think of her in his bed. The marriage must end."

'Yes, sire."

'For reasons which are obvious, I shall decline Min-Orota's invitation to attend the ceremony at the Heron Pool. The Consul-General will represent me, and as a gesture of my faith in this project, I will order him to take to the air in one of the flying-horses. You will deliver the letter personally."

'Yes, sire."

'I want him taken aloft. When the flying-horse has attained the greatest possible height, he is to fall from the sky. His body is to be split and broken like that of a stray mongrel crushed under the wheel of a pa.s.sing cart.

I leave it to you to make the necessary arrangements."

'It will be a pleasure, sire."

'And when it is done, you will escort Lady Mishiko and her children to Aron-Giren." Yoritomo waved his hand to signal the audience was at an end. The Herald took leave of the Shogun and rejoined Mishiko who once again had not been seen by the other partic.i.p.ants, even though she had been sitting on the edge of the dais just a few feet from her brother.

The outlines of the room broke up into shifting planes of colour. When they reformed, Mishiko found she was still in the Summer Palace but now she was with the Herald in the pebble garden - Yoritomo's favourite retreat.

Her brother sat on the raised wooden floor of the open-sided summer-house. The body-guards who shadowed him day and night were in their usual places behind him. Hearing footsteps, Mishiko looked to her right and saw Kamakura, an officer in the palace guard, lead her most trusted maid-servant towards the summerhouse.

She was carrying a letter- the letter Mishiko had written, asking Yoritomo's permission to marry the Herald.