“Less than ten!” repeated Keiki. “Give command, Your Highness! The clans of Mito and Hitotsubashi will unaided board the black ships and destroy the hairy barbarians with our swords!”
The vaunt was too absurd for me to contain my amusement. I chuckled openly.
“The tojin sama mocks,” protested the daimio beside me. “Has he not heard how the swordsmen of Nippon destroyed the vast fleet of Kublai Khan?”
“Abe Ise-no-kami speaks to the point,” commented Midzuano. “Can Woroto Sama refute him?”
“Without aspersing in the slightest degree the prowess of Nippon’s brave samurai,” I answered, “it is well to give the gods credit for their share in the destruction of the Mongol fleet. I have heard that the larger number of the war junks were wrecked or foundered in a great typhoon.”
“We will implore the gods to send another such typhoon,” retorted Keiki.
“The warships of my people are not clumsy junks,” I replied. “They drive into the teeth of the storm with no sails set upon their masts. I have myself twice outridden typhoons in the black ships.”
“Grant leave, Your Highness, for Mito to destroy the insolent barbarians!” cried Keiki.
“If my countrymen might know beforehand that the Mito clan were seeking battle on their own quarrel and not as representing Nippon, Your Highness could do no better than to let them attack,” I said. “The result would provide a valuable lesson for the other frogs in the well. My countrymen come in peace, desirous of honorable friendship with the people of Dai Nippon. But they are not swordless tradesmen.”
“Nor are the barbarians samurai bred,” retorted Keiki. “Only five years have passed since two American warships ventured to approach Yedo Bay. The report cannot be doubted that their great tojin lord was flung back into his boat by a common sailor of Nippon when he sought to come aboard the ship of the Japanese commander.”