“And cost in lives,” muttered Yashimoto. His face was flushed, and he seemed unsteady as he lolled on the couch, constantly fingering the hilt of his sword.
Mashashige this time acknowledged the comment of his second-in-command. “Yes, it has been costly in lives. There are only a dozen men of birth and honor here in my palace. And we have lost four no, five, in the last months during jumps. Drowned, shot, stabbed, burned Deathlands is truly a dreadful place to be inhabited.”
Ryan looked around him. Though there were no windows opening from the large room onto the outside of the building, he had the feeling that the day was wearing on and that evening wasn’t that far away.
Mashashige caught the restless movement. “You would like to go to your rooms and share a bath and rest?”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” Ryan stood and turned toward Yashimoto. “I’m sorry about your brother getting chilled,” he said. “But it was him or me. You were there. You know how it all went down.”
But the samurai ignored him, studiously concentrating his attention on the pretty little girl who was serving him yet more sake.
Everyone other than the second-in-command now stood.
“I believe that you and the red-haired woman are partners together, Ryan Cawdor. Likewise, you, Mr. Dix, with the black woman who was once a doctor. Will two double rooms and one room with two single tatamisleeping matsbe sufficient for you?”
“Sure. Can they be side by side?”
“Yes.” He bowed to them.
“I will arrange for servants to show them to the visitors’ chambers, Lord,” Hideyoshi said.
“Anything that you require can be arranged. If the snow-haired, red-eyed youth or the old grandfather want company, I will send a pair of geisha each.”
Jak was puzzled, but Doc replied for them both. “We prefer to arrange our own female company when we want it, but our thanks anyway.”
The audience with the shogun was over.
Chapter Ten
The bath was like a traditional American hot tub, circular, above the ground, made from seasoned redwood and about twelve feet in diameter, with a bench seat running around the inside. There were three tubs, one for each of the double chambers and one for the room that had the single woven mats laid on the polished floor.
Ryan couldn’t believe the speed and efficiency of the servants. It seemed that only a couple of minutes had passed since they left the presence of Lord Mashashige, yet the three tubs were already three-quarters filled with steaming water, carrying the delicate scent of balsam. And a pile of fluffy towels waited on a low bench seat.
Several women remained behind in each room. They weren’t the pretty, painted girls in kimonos. These were of sturdier, peasant stock, wearing a looser cotton kimono of crimson and white.
Ryan and Krysty stood together and waited for the three women in their room to leave.
But nobody moved.
“What are they waiting for?” Ryan asked.
“A tip?”
“Guess not.”
“Mebbe they want to take out dirty clothes and launder them for us, lover.”
“Mebbe they want to scrub my back.”
Krysty smiled, then shook her head. “Gaia! I think you’ve stepped in it, Ryan.”
“What?”
“That’s what they’re waiting for. They’re here to wash us, if we want it.”
“We don’t.”
Krysty clapped her hands and made shooing gestures at the women, who stood their ground, blank faced. “Shove off. Go away. Vamoose. Vanish. Leave us alone.”
Ryan laughed. “Like a farmer’s wife trying to get some stubborn turkeys out of the corn.”
“You do any better?”
“Sure.” He walked to the nearest of the servants, who was also the oldest, her face wrinkled like a wintered apple. Ryan towered over her, and he could see something close to fear in her narrow, hooded eyes.
“Time you go, mama-san,” he said, taking her gently by the arm and steering her toward the door of their room.
“Mama-san?” Krysty repeated. “Where in the big fire did you dig that one up?”
“Trader had some old war vids, and every now and again we’d find a machine that worked and we’d watch them. One was about the war in the Cific. Against the Japanese, as it happened.” He reached the sliding panel and pulled it open with his left hand. “Out you go, mama-san,” he said, pushing her gently outside into the passage.
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