For her own part, Tam was finding this traditional "geisha party" extremely juvenile and silly. Was this what supposedly intelligent Japanese businessmen consider the height of refined amusement, all this fake flattery and cajoling, mixed with not a few ribald double entendres? How depressing.
After a few more songs and dances Koriko and her ensemble began preparing to depart, whereupon His Majesty presented her with a small gift, or perhaps an honorarium, wrapped in gold paper and tied with an elaborate purple bow. In keeping with etiquette she didn't open it, merely thanked him graciously and tucked it into her obi. She then caressed the ivory pegs of her shamisen with reverence, saying she would treasure it forever as the unworthy instrument that had solaced the ears of His Imperial Majesty.
With a final bow to Noda, never hinting she knew him, she backed out the door and was gone, followed by the others. His look of relief reminded Tam of a man who'd just walked away from a collapsing building.
Whatever may have been Tam's, or Matsuo Noda's, secret thoughts about Koriko, the Emperor clearly had had a rollicking time. Presumably he didn't have all that many occasions to flirt with geisha. Now slightly the worse for sake, he began to wax pensive, turning to his American guest and offering to provide an account of the battle of Dan-no-ura. It was a definite switch of mood, but Koriko's traditional songs seemed to have struck a nostalgic nerve. Or perhaps the sword had brought him a new enthusiasm for the past he wanted to share. As he started recounting the battle, Tam smiled to think it was like having the Queen herself brief you on that family squabble of yesteryear called the War of the Roses.
"That battle, Richardson-san, between the Heike and Genji clans, was a turning point in the long history of our country; it represented the rise to power of the warriors. The shogunate." He smiled politely. "I'm afraid the monarchy never quite recovered.
"In fact, today the crabs in the Inland Sea have a mark on the back of their shells that people say is like the insignia of the Heike, that they represent the fallen banners of the Heike nobles." He paused while a maid topped off his tiny cup with more hot sake. "I suppose you've seen them?"
"Hai, miraremashita." Of course, she nodded, stretching
out her vowels to maximum politeness. She wasn't sure she had actually, but this was no time to appear like a dumb gaijin.
"Well, after many years of fighting, the Heike nobles and the boy emperor they were defending fled to an island across the Inland Sea. But the Genji forces pursued them and eventually they were forced to take to their boats once more. Finally the battle was joined. Since the Heike were experienced sailors, they assumed they would prevail in a naval encounter, and thus their commander unwisely elected to make his stand in the straits, where the riptide was as quick and treacherous then as it is today. At first he had the tide in his favor and they held the enemy, but around noon the tide changed and was against them. Gradually the forces of the Genji surrounded the ship bearing the emperor and the court."
His voice faltered slightly, and she realized the story was still as fresh for him as if it had happened yesterday. Finally he continued.