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The heir to the magnificent English trading company, the Noble House…the direct descendant of the first Toranaga Shogun battling to usher his country into the modern age…a beautiful young French woman forever torn between ambition and desire…Their lives intertwine in an exotic land newly open to foreigners, gai-jin, torn apart by greed, idealism, and terrorism. Their passions mingle with monarchs and diplomats, assassins, courtesans and spies. Their fates collide in James Clavell’s latest masterpiece set in nineteenth-century Japan–an unforgettable epic seething with betrayal and secrets, brutality and heroism, love and forbidden passions.…
horizon. "Back there, quick, they need, need help!" Those nearby were appalled and noisily began relaying the half news to others and asking questions: Who? Who was attacked? Are they French or British? Attacked? Where? Two-sword bastards again! Where the hell did this happen... Questions overlaid other questions and gave her no time to answer, nor could she yet, coherently, her chest heaving, everyone pressing closer, crowding her. More and more men poured into the street putting on coats and
madam in Drunk Town as the low-class quarter was called. No children. Fifty to sixty Chinese servants. John Canterbury, a good-looking, craggy-faced British trader acted as their guide. The purpose of the excursion was to show Phillip Tyrer the way by land to Kanagawa where meetings with Japanese officials took place from time to time, and well within the agreed Settlement area. Tyrer, just twenty-one, had arrived yesterday from London via Peking and Shanghai, a newly appointed student
he checked the only door and saw that it was barred, that she was still asleep, unsheathed his short stabbing sword and darted for the bed. It was a four-poster, the first he had ever seen, everything about it strange, its height and heavy permanence, posts, curtains, bedclothes, and for a second he wondered what it would be like to sleep in one, so high off the ground, instead of the way Japanese slept, on futons-- light, square mattresses of straw--laid out at night and put away by day. His
secure and with his own guards. Beyond the outer moat was the first protective circle of daimyo palaces. These were vast, rich, sprawling residences, then circles of lesser ones, then even lesser ones, one such residence for each daimyo in the land. All had been sited by Sh@ogun Toranaga personally and ordered constructed to conform with his new law of sankin-kotai, alternative residence. "Sankin-kotai," he said, "requires all daimyos to build at once and maintain forever a "suitable residence"
starboard, smoke from cooking fires of the sprawling city shrouding it, the landscape and overlording castle. Astonishingly the bay was almost empty of the multitude of ferries and sampans and fishing boats that normally abounded, with the few there scurrying for shore. Tyrer was very uneasy. "Is it going to be war?" After a pause, Marlowe said, "They had their warning. Most of us think, no, not a full-scale war, not yet, not this time. There'll be incidents ..." Then, because he liked Tyrer and