Tea is cool lush green in a smooth pale bowl. Interpreters Kobayashi and Yonekizu, Acting-Chief Resident Jacob de Zoet's escorts to the Magistracy this morning, left him in the vestibule to be watched by a pair of officials. Not realising that the Dutchman can understand, the officials speculate that the foreigner's eyes are green because his pregnant mother ate too many vegetables. The dignified atmosphere Jacob remembers from last year's visit to the Magistracy with Vorstenbosch is overturned by the morning's events: soldiers shout from the barracks wing; blades are being sharpened on fly-wheels; and servants hurry by, whispering about what might happen. Interpreter Yonekizu appears. 'Magistrate is ready, Mr de Zoet.'

'As am I, Mr Yonekizu, but has any fresh news arrived?'

The interpreter shakes his head ambiguously, and leads de Zoet into the Hall of Sixty Mats. A council of around thirty advisers sits in a horseshoe shape, two or three rows deep, around Magistrate Shiroyama, who occupies a one-mat-high dais. Jacob is ushered into the centre. Chamberlain Koda, Inspector Suruga and Iwase Banri - the three sent to accompany van Cleef and Fischer to the Dutch ship - kneel in a row to one side. All three look pale and worried.

A sergeant-at-arms announces, 'Dejima no Dazuto- Dazuto-sama.' Jacob bows.

Shiroyama says, in Japanese, 'Thank you for attending us so quickly.'

Jacob meets the clear eyes of the grim man and bows once more.

'I am told,' says the Magistrate, 'that you now understand some Japanese.'

To acknowledge the remark would advertise his clandestine studies, and may forfeit a tactical advantage. But to pretend not to understand But to pretend not to understand, Jacob thinks, would be deceitful would be deceitful. 'Somehow I understand a little of the Magistrate's mother tongue, yes.'

The horseshoe of advisers murmurs in surprise at hearing a foreigner speak.

'Moreover,' the Magistrate continues, 'I am told you are an honest man.'

Jacob receives the compliment with a noncommittal bow.

'I enjoyed dealings,' says a voice that chills Jacob's neck, 'with the Acting-Chief Resident during last year's trading season . . .'

Jacob does not want to look at Enomoto, but his eyes are drawn.

'. . . and believe that no better leader could be found on Dejima.'

Gaoler, Jacob swallows as he bows, murderer, liar, madman . . . murderer, liar, madman . . .

Enomoto tilts his head in apparent amusement.

'The opinion of the Lord of Kyoga carries much weight,' says Magistrate Shiroyama. 'And we make a solemn oath to Acting-Chief de Zoet: your countrymen shall shall be saved from your enemies . . .' be saved from your enemies . . .'

This unconditional support surpasses Jacob's hopes. 'Thank you, Your--'

'. . . or the chamberlain, inspector and interpreter shall die in the attempt.' Shiroyama looks at the three disgraced men. 'Men of honour,' the Magistrate states, 'do not permit their charges to be stolen. To make amends, they shall be rowed to the intruders' ship. Iwase will win permission for the three men to board and pay a' - Shiroyama's next word must mean 'ransom' - 'to release the two . . .' the word must be 'hostages'. 'Once aboard, they will cut the English Captain down with concealed knives. This is not the Way of the Bushido, but these pirates deserve to die like dogs.'

'But Koda-sama, Suruga-sama and Iwase- and Iwase-sama shall be killed, and--' shall be killed, and--'

'Death shall cleanse them of -' The next word may be 'cowardice'.

How shall the de facto de facto suicides of these three men suicides of these three men, Jacob groans inwardly, resolve anything? resolve anything? He turns to Yonekizu and asks, 'Please tell His Honour that the English are a vicious race. Inform him that they would kill not only Your Honour's three servants, but also Chief van Cleef and Deputy Fischer.' He turns to Yonekizu and asks, 'Please tell His Honour that the English are a vicious race. Inform him that they would kill not only Your Honour's three servants, but also Chief van Cleef and Deputy Fischer.'

The Hall of Sixty Mats hears this in gravid silence, suggesting that the Magistrate's advisers raised this objection, or else were too afraid to.

Shiroyama looks displeased. 'What action would the Acting-Chief propose?'

Jacob feels like a distrusted defendant. 'The best action, for now, is no no action.' action.'

There is some surprise; an adviser leans towards Shiroyama's ear . . .

Jacob needs Yonekizu again: 'Tell the Magistrate that the English Captain is testing us. He is waiting to see whether the Japanese or the Dutch respond, and whether we use force or diplomacy.' Yonekizu frowns at the last word. 'Words, parleying, negotiation. But by not acting, we will make the English impatient. Their impatience will cause them to reveal their intentions.'

The Magistrate listens, nods slowly, and orders Jacob: 'Guess their intentions.'

Jacob obeys his instinct to answer truthfully. 'First,' he begins in Japanese, 'they came to take the Batavia ship and its cargo of copper. Because they found no ship, they took hostages. They . . .' he hopes this makes sense '. . . they want to harvest knowledge.'

Shiroyama's fingers entwine. 'Knowledge about Dutch forces on Dejima?'

'No, Your Honour: knowledge about Japan and its empire.'

The ranks of advisers mutter. Enomoto stares. Jacob sees a skull wrapped in skin.

'All men of honour,' the Magistrate raises his fan, 'prefer death by torture over giving information to an enemy.' All present, Chamberlain Koda, Inspector Suruga and Interpreter Iwase excepted, nod with indignant agreement.

None of you, Jacob thinks, has been within fifteen decades of a real war has been within fifteen decades of a real war.

'But why,' Shiroyama asks, 'are the English hungry to learn about Japan?'

I am taking a thing apart, Jacob fears, which I cannot put back together which I cannot put back together.

'The English may wish to trade in Nagasaki again, Your Honour.'

My move is made, the Acting-Chief thinks, and I cannot take it back and I cannot take it back.

'Why you use the word,' asks the Magistrate, ' "again"?'

Lord Abbot Enomoto clears his throat. 'Acting-Chief de Zoet's statement is accurate, Your Honour. Englishmen traded in Nagasaki long ago, during the time of the First Shogun, when silver was exported. One doesn't doubt that the memory of those profits lingers in their land, to this day . . . though naturally, the Acting-Chief would know more about this than I do.'

Against his will, Jacob imagines Enomoto pinning Orito down.

Wilfully, Jacob imagines bludgeoning Enomoto to death.

'How does kidnapping our allies,' Shiroyama asks, 'win our trust?'

Jacob turns to Yonekizu. 'Tell His Honour the English don't want your trust. The English want fear and obedience. They build their empire by sailing into foreign harbours, firing cannons and buying local magistrates. They expect His Honour to behave like a corrupt Chinaman or a Negro king, happy to trade the well-being of your own people for an English-style house and a bagful of glass beads.'

As Yonekizu translates, the Hall of Sixty Mats crackles with anger.

Belatedly, Jacob notices a pair of scribes in the corner recording every word.

The Shogun himself, he thinks, will be poring over your words in ten days will be poring over your words in ten days.

A chamberlain approaches the Magistrate from one side with a message.

The announcement, in Japanese too formal for Jacob to understand, seems to heighten the tension. To save Shiroyama the trouble of dismissing him, Jacob turns again to Yonekizu: 'Give my government's thanks to the Magistrate for his support, and beg his permission for me to return to Dejima and oversee preparations.'

Yonekizu provides a suitably formal translation.

The Shogun's representative dismisses Jacob with a curt nod.

XXXIII.

The Hall of Sixty Mats at the Magistracy

After Acting-Chief de Zoet's departure on the Second Day of the Ninth Month 'The Dutchman may look like a goblin from a child's nightmare,' says Shiroyama, noticing his advisers' sycophantic sneers, 'but he is no fool.' The sneers quickly turn into wise nods of agreement.

'His manners are polished,' approves one city elder, 'and his reasoning clear.'

'His Japanese was odd,' says another, 'but I understood most of it.'

'One of my spies on Dejima,' says a third, 'says he studies incessantly.'

'But his accent,' complains an inspector, Wada, 'was like a crow's!'

'And you, Wada, speak Dazuto's tongue,' asks Shiroyama, 'like a nightingale?'

Wada, who speaks no Dutch at all, is wise enough to say nothing.

'And the three of you you,' Shiroyama waves his fan at the men held responsible for the kidnap of the two Dutch hostages, 'you owe your lives to his clemency.'

The nervous men respond with humble bows.

'Interpreter Iwase, my report to Edo shall note that you, at least, tried to engage the abductors, however ineptly. You are needed at your Guild and may go.'

Iwase bows deeply and hurries from the Hall.

'You two,' Shiroyama stares at the hapless inspector and official, 'brought disrepute to your rank, and taught the Englishmen that Japan is populated by cowards.' Few of your peers Few of your peers, the Magistrate admits to himself, would have acquitted themselves any better would have acquitted themselves any better. 'Stay confined to your houses until further notice.'

The two disgraced men crawl backwards to the door.

Shiroyama finds Tomine. 'Summon the Captain of the Coastal Guards.'

The swarthy Captain is ushered on to the very mat vacated by de Zoet. He bows before the Magistrate. 'My name's Doi, Your Honour.'

'How soon, with what force, and how best may we retaliate?'

Instead of replying, the man stares at the floor in front of his knees.

Shiroyama looks at Chamberlain Tomine, who is as puzzled as his master.

A half-mute incompetent, Shiroyama wonders, promoted by a relative? promoted by a relative?

Wada clears his throat. 'The Hall is waiting for your answer, Captain Doi.'

'I inspected . . .' the soldier glances up like a rabbit in a snare '. . . the battle-readiness of both guard-posts, north and south of the bay, and consulted with the highest-ranking officers available.'

'I want strategies for counterattacks, Doi, not regurgitated orders!'

'It was . . . intimated to me, sir, that - that troop strength is currently . . .'

Shiroyama notices the better-informed courtiers fanning themselves anxiously.

'. . . a lower number than the thousand men stipulated by Edo, Your Honour.'

'Are you telling me that the garrisons of Nagasaki Bay are under-manned?'

Doi's cringing bow affirms that this is so. Advisers murmur in alarm.

A small shortage shan't damage me, thinks the Magistrate. 'By how many?'

'The exact number,' Captain Doi swallows, 'is sixty-seven, Your Honour.'

Shiroyama's guts untwist themselves: not even his most vitriolic rival Omatsu, with whom he shares the post of Magistrate, could portray a lack of sixty-seven men out of one thousand as Dereliction. It could be written off as sickness It could be written off as sickness. But a glance at the faces around the room tells the Magistrate he is missing something . . .

. . . until a fearful thought uproots all things.

'Not - surely not -' he masters his voice '- sixty-seven men in total total?'

The weatherbeaten Captain is too nervous to reply.

Chamberlain Tomine barks: 'The Magistrate asked you a question!'

'There--' Doi disintegrates and must begin again. 'There are thirty guards at the North Garrison, and thirty-seven at the South. That is the total, Your Honour.'

Now the advisers study Magistrate Shiroyama . . .

Sixty-seven soldiers, he holds the damning numbers, in lieu of one thousand in lieu of one thousand.

. . . the cynical, the ambitious, his appalled allies, Omatsu's place-men . . .

Some of you leeches knew this, Shiroyama thinks, and said nothing and said nothing.

Doi is still crouching like a prisoner waiting for the sword to fall.

Omatsu would would blame the messenger blame the messenger . . . and Shiroyama, too, is tempted to lash out. 'Wait outside, Captain. Thank you for despatching your duty with such speed and . . . accuracy.' . . . and Shiroyama, too, is tempted to lash out. 'Wait outside, Captain. Thank you for despatching your duty with such speed and . . . accuracy.'

Doi glances at Tomine to check he heard correctly, bows and leaves.

None of the advisers dares be first to violate the awed hush.

Blame the Lord of Hizen, Shiroyama thinks. He supplies the men He supplies the men.