'Forty different varieties； I think； Aunt。 Yes； I know of it but I am told that only the priests of the shrine may look upon it。'
'Perhaps it is not so difficult as that； Nicholas。 I cannot imagine you wanting to bee a priest。 It does not suit you。' She rose； said unexpectedly； 'How would you like to take me there？ To the shrine and to the park？'
'When？ Now？'
'Certainly。'
'But I thought…'
'All things may be possible； one way or another； Nicholas。' She smiled and called： 'Cheong； Nicholas and I are going for a walk。 We won't be long。' She turned back to him and reached out her hand。 'e；' she said gently。
They walked silently until they came to the verge of the forest。 There they turned right along the grass for perhaps two hundred metres； when she abruptly guided him inward。 He found that they were on a narrow but well…worn track through the trees and underbrush。
'Well； Nicholas； you must tell me how you like your training at the dojo；' Itami said。 She walked carefully in her wooden geta； using the point of her lacquered paper parasol as a walking stick to help balance her on the uneven ground。
'It is very hard work； Aunt。'
'Yes。' She waved a hand as if dismissing this statement。 'But this is not something that you had not anticipated。'
'No。'
'Do you enjoy all the hard work？'
He glanced up at her； wondering what she was getting at。 He had absolutely no intention of telling her of the growing animosity between himself and Saigo。 That would not do at all。 He had not even told his parents。 'At times；' he said。 'I would wish to move on。' He shrugged。 'I am impatient； I suppose。'
'There are times when only the impatient are rewarded； Nicholas；' she said； stepping over a tangled root。 'Here； help me the last few feet； won't you？' She gave him her arm。 'Ah； there we are。
They were in a clearing； and as they moved out from the shade of the pines； Itami lifted her parasol over her head and opened it。 Her skin was as white as snow； her lips deep red； her eyes as dark as nuggets of coal。
The deep lacquered wall of the temple was awash in shimmering sunlight so that he was obliged to squint until his eyes accustomed themselves to the brightness。 It was as if he were gazing at a sea of gold。
They began to walk along the crushed limestone gravel； a blue…white stippled path that pletely encircled the temple； one could tread it forever； never getting closer to or farther away from one's goal。
'But you have survived；' she said softly。 'That is gratifying。' They had reached the verge of the steep wooden steps up to the bronze and lacquered…wood doors which stood open； shadowed； silent； hunkered down fortably as if waiting for something or someone to arrive。 They paused there。 She put a hand on his shoulder； so lightly that if he had not seen it； he might not even have felt its weight there。 'I had grave doubts when your father came to me； requesting that I help gain entrance for you in a suitable ryu。' She shook her head。 'I had no choice but to acquiesce and honour dictated that I made no ment of my own； but I was concerned。〃 She sighed。 'In a way I pity you。 How strange your life will be。 Westerners will never fully accept you because of your oriental blood and the Japanese will despise you because of your occidental features。' Her hand lifted into the air like a butterfly and her forefinger gave him a fragile and fleeting touch on the point of one cheek。 She stared at him。 'Even your eyes are your father's。 Her hand dropped to her side； it was as if she had never made the gesture。 'But I am not so easily fooled。' She turned her implacable gaze away from him and said； 'Let us go inside and pray。'
'Beautiful； isn't it？' Itami said。
And he had to agree。 They stood beside a slow meandering brook which tumbled down across moss…covered rocks from a height of perhaps two metres； certainly not more。 Everywhere was green； even the water； even the pebbles。 To Nicholas it looked as though there were four thousand species of moss here instead of the forty。
'And peaceful；' she continued。 'It's so peaceful here。 The outside world does not exist。 Gone。' She folded her parasol in the shade of the overhanging cryptomeria。 She inhaled deeply； her small head thrown back。 'It is as if time itself had dissolved； Nicholas。 As if there had been no twentieth century； no expansion； no imperialism … no war。' She closed her eyes。 'No war。' He watched her closely until her eyes flew open； staring。 'But there was a war。' She turned。 'Shall we sit on this stone bench？ Good。 Perhaps the shogun … one of the Tokuga…was； even … sat just here where we are。 There。 It gives one a sense of history； does it not？ A continuity？ A feeling of belonging？' She turned to him。 'But not you； I suspect。 Not yet； anyway。 We are alike in that respect。 Oh； yes we are。' She laughed。 'I see by your expression that you are surprised。 You shouldn't be。 We are both outsiders； you see； forever cut
off from that which we desire the most。'
'But how can that be？' Nicholas protested。 'You are a Nobunaga； a member of one of Japan's oldest and most noble houses。'
Itami smiled at him just the way a predator might and he saw her white even teeth； glistening with saliva。 'Oh yes；' she breathed； 'a Nobunaga； indeed。 But that； like a great deal else in Japan； is merely the exterior： the gorgeous lacquered coat which hides the rotting hulk underneath。' Her face was no longer beautiful； squeezed as it was by the anguish she felt。 'Listen well to me； Nicholas。 Honour has fled us here； we have allowed ourselves to be corrupted by the Western barbarians。 We are a despicable race now； we have done such hideous deeds。 How our ancestors must shudder in their graves； how their kami must yearn for the final resting rather than the return to this … modern society。'
Her voice had risen somewhat and now Nicholas sat quite still beside her； allowing the air to cool。 But she would not or perhaps could not rest now。 It had been difficult； he suspected； for her to begin this。 But； once she had overe the initial inertia； nothing could stop her。
'Do you know what the zaibatsu are； Nicholas？'
'By name only；' he said； once more uncertain of the ground she had put them on。
'Ask your father to explain the zaibatsu to you one day； will you？ The Colonel knows a great deal about them and you should know； too。' Then； as if it explained it all； she said； 'Satsugai works for one of the zaibatsu。'
'Which one？'
'I hate my husband； Nicholas。 And； do you know' … she laughed shortly … 'only your father knows why。 It is so ironic。 But life is ironic。 It's a devil withholding from you what you desire the most。' Her tiny hands were clenched like baby fists in her lap。 'What good being a noble Nobunaga when I must forever carry with me the shame of my great…grandfather？ My shame is as inescapable to me as your mixed blood is to you。
'My great…grandfather left the service of the shogun when he was twenty…eight to bee a ronin … do you know what that is？'
'A masterless samurai。'
'A warrior without honour； yes。 A brigand； a thief。 He turned mercenary； selling his strong capable arm to the highest bidder。 Enraged by this unseemly and dishonorable behaviour； the shogun sent men out into the countryside to track him down； and when they finally did； they adhered to the order given by the shogun。 No seppuku for my great…grandfather； the shogun would not grant him an honorable way to die。 He was carrion now； no longer a bushi。 They crucified him as they did the scum of the land。
'In most of those cases； the offender's entire family is destroyed … the women and all the children so that his family line； his most prized possession； would be stripped from him。 Not this time； however。'
'Why？' Nicholas asked。 'What happened？'
Itami shrugged and smiled wanly。 'Karma。 My karma which forms the backbone of my life。 I rebel against it； it makes me ache； and at night I cry。 I am ashamed to say that。 I am a bushi； a samurai woman； even in this day and age。 Some things time cannot alter。 My blood seethes with ten thousand battles； my soul resonates to the sweep of the katana； its blade； its fearful shades of steel。'
She stood up； the parasol blossomed like an enormous fl