The Lion, The Cross, and The Chrysanthemum
Strategy is the craft of the warrior. Commanders must enact the craft, and troopers should know this Way. There is no warrior in the world today who really understands the Way of strategy.... It is said the warrior's is the twofold Way of pen and sword, and he should have a taste for both Ways.
- Miyamoto Musashi (1584-1645), famous swordsman of the Early Azuchi period and author of the Book of Five Rings
Canton - February 14th, 1870
“Announcing his Excellency, General Ya-zu-kata Oyama, His Imperial Majesty’s Governor-General of Guangdong and Commandant of the Guangdong Constabulary!”
The General entered the hall smiling despite the slaughtering of his name by the servant… a Bavarian if one could guess by his accent and the usual Western habit to rearrange the order of Nipponese names. He had reason to smile of course, for he was at the pinnacle of his career thus far. His bravery in the late Manchu war, his brilliant planning and execution of the second invasion of Guangdong (in the wake of the destruction of the entire host of the Shimazu Corps no less), and naturally his friendships with both the Shogun and those of import in Kyoto had lead him here. Oyama had always been fascinated by the West, especially Burgundy and the Germanies, only intensified by his visit as part of the delegation to seal the Grand Alliance a decade ago. To the horror of his wife, he even had begun the construction of a new manor at their estate in Edo… a German, neo-Gothic oddity in the midst of the grandest city of the Orient. So it pleased him as ever to be in the company of the gaijin, men not only to be tolerated (as was the opinion of most of his countrymen) but instead to be welcomed as friends.
The entire room turned about to face him and applauded, with one man dressed simply in a black flock coat, shortcut hair, and small brass bi-focals perched on his nose stepping forward after that. “Mister Ambassador, I presume,” Oyama said hesitantly in his heavy, accented Burgundian, still smiling. “Indeed, your Excellency, I am Antonie de Nevers, Duke of the same and humble representative of His Majesty, Charles XII Augustus, unto both yourself and the Celestial Court at Nanjing. I only arrived day before yesterday, so please do pardon me if I cannot comment on official business.” Oyama nodded as he grabbed a glass and a shrimp from a passing platter, “No matter, for tonight is to be enjoy in full without worry for the matters of state. I am however hearted that a nobleman of your rank has been sent to represent his Majesty at last.” The thin, drab man shifted a little, then continued, “It was a matter of cabinet intrigue really, for the Calvinist party you see had to make certain sacrifices here to remain the ruling party… I was one of them. Not to demean my posting to this office, but I am, in a way, an exile.” The General chuckled, “Thank the kami that our government is not prey to such foolishness. Yet, we shall make the most of it, ja!?” The big General clasped the Ambassador by the arm, smiling again, wondering to himself when dinner might commence.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, not too distant, agents of Her Most Christian Majesty, Victoria I, Queen of France, England, and Ireland, Empress of the Congo, known only to their masters in Paris as the “Plumbers” were rummaging through the very offices of the Governor-General… their perfidious plots of espionage and diplomatic duplicity never abating.
The information obtained as a result of the Plumbers' clandestine raid was not so much valuable because it might have been secret (which most of it was not) but because of its detailed nature
