“Not that I can tell, my lord.”
“Call Fujimaro.”
I clapped my hands, and the chamberlain appeared at the side of the room.
Yoritomo pointed to the kneeling girl. “Let denial be made that the geisha who entered Owari Yashiki was Kohana San. To-night return the girl to Shinagawa in a norimon, with escort, incognito, but passing out the main gate.”
“My lord! a geisha in a norimon, and carried through the state gate of Owari Yashiki!” murmured the outraged chamberlain, masking his amazement behind his suave smile, yet unable to repress the note of horror that underlaid his mildly worded protest.
“Will Keiki then believe the spies that report the coming of Kohana San to Owari? They will say she is still here, yet she will be in Shinagawa.”
“My lord! the life of a dancer against the dignity of Owari—”
“The dignity of Owari against the defeat of those who would ruin Owari and Nippon. The geisha is now worth a thousand men to Owari. Seal your lips and the lips of all others. She will leave the norimon in some dark by-way. You will loiter through Shinagawa, and return with one of the guard inside. Go now and request leave of my august father for us to appear before him.”
Fujimaro hastened out, and we turned to question Kohana San. Before she could tell how the message had reached her, the chamberlain reappeared, and announced that one of the Prince’s personal attendants had come to inform us our presence was desired in the audience hall.
“Mito strikes. It is for us to parry and counter,” said Yoritomo. We slipped our swords into our girdles, and rose. At the threshold he turned to Kohana San. “Pray to the war god and to your kitten.”