Shogun (135 page)

“Just that it’s curious the Anjin-san’s so different from the others.”

“What’re they like? Have you seen them? The others?”

“No, Lady. I wouldn’t go there. What should I have to do with them? Or with
eta?
I must think of my clients and my Kiku-san. And my son.”

“Ah yes, your son.”

Gyoko’s face saddened under her parasol but her eyes remained flinty brown like her kimono. “Please excuse me, but I suppose you’ve no idea why we should be out of favor with Lord Toranaga?”

“No. I’m sure you’re mistaken. The contract was settled,
neh?
According to the agreement?”

“Oh yes, thank you. I’ve a letter of credit on the Mishima rice merchants, payable on demand. Less the amount we agreed. But money was furthest from my mind. What’s money when you’ve lost the favor of your patron—whoever he or she is.
Neh?”

“I’m sure you retain his favor.”

“Ah, favors! I was worried about your favor, too, Lady Toda.”

“You always have my goodwill. And friendship, Gyoko-san. Perhaps we could talk another time, I really must go now, so sorry….”

“Ah yes, how kind you are. I’d enjoy that.” Gyoko added in her most honeyed voice as Mariko began to turn away, “But will you have time? You go tomorrow,
neh?
To Osaka?”

Mariko felt a sudden ice barb in her chest as the trap closed.

“Is there anything wrong, Lady?”

“No … no, Gyoko-san. Will … during the Hour of the Dog tonight … would that be convenient?”

“You’re too kind, Lady. Oh, yes, as you’re going to see our Master now, before me, would you intercede for us? We need such a little favor.
Neh?”

“I would be glad to.” Mariko thought a moment. “Some favors can be asked but, even so, are not granted.”

Gyoko stiffened slightly. “Ah! You’ve already asked him the … asked him to favor us?”

“Of course—why shouldn’t I?” Mariko said carefully. “Isn’t Kiku-san a favorite? And aren’t you a devoted vassal? Haven’t you been granted favors in the past?”

“My requests are always so little. Everything I said before still applies, Lady. Perhaps more so.”

“About empty-bellied dogs?”

“About long ears and safe tongues.”

“Ah yes. And secrets.”

“It would be so easy to satisfy me. My Lord’s favor—and my Lady’s—is not much to ask,
neh?”

“No. If an opportunity occurs…. I can promise nothing.”

“Until this evening, Lady.”

They bowed to each other and no samurai was any the wiser. Mariko got into the palanquin to more bows, hiding the trembles that beset her, and the cortege left. Gyoko stared after her.

“You, woman,” a young samurai said roughly as he passed. “What’re you waiting for? Go about your business.”

“Ha!” Gyoko said disdainfully to the amusement of others. “Woman, is it, puppy? If I went about your business I might have a very hard time finding it, hey, even though you’re not yet man enough to have thatch!”

The others laughed. With a toss of her head she walked on fearlessly.

“Hello,” Blackthorne said.

“Good afternoon, Anjin-san. You look happy!”

“Thank you. It’s the sight of such a lovely lady,
neh?”

“Ah, thank you,” Mariko replied. “How is your ship?”

“First class. Would you like to come aboard? I’d like to show you around.”

“Is that permitted? I was ordered here to meet Lord Toranaga.”

“Yes. We’re all waiting for him now.” Blackthorne turned and spoke to the senior samurai on the wharf. “Captain, I take Lady Toda there. Show ship. When Lord Toranaga arrive—you call,
neh?”

“As you wish, Anjin-san.”

Blackthorne led the way off the jetty. Samurai were manning the barriers and security was tighter than ever, ashore and on deck. First he went to the quarterdeck. “This is mine, all mine,” he said with pride.

“Are any of your crew here?”

“No—none. Not today, Mariko-san.” He pointed out everything as quickly as he could, then guided her below. “This is the main
cabin.” The aft bay windows overlooked the foreshore. He closed the door. Now they were totally alone.

“This is your cabin?” she asked.

He shook his head, watching her. She went into his arms. He held her tight. “Oh, how I have missed thee.”

“And I have missed thee….”

“There’s so much to tell thee. And to ask thee,” he said.

“I’ve nothing to tell thee. Except that I love thee with all my heart.” She shivered in his arms, trying to throw off her terror that Gyoko or someone would denounce them. “I’m so afraid for thee.”

“Don’t be afraid, Mariko my darling. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“That’s what I tell myself. But today it’s impossible to accept
karma
and the will of God.”

“You were so distant the last time.”

“This is Yedo, my love. And beyond First Bridge.”

“It
was
because of Buntaro-san. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “That and Toranaga’s decision to surrender. It’s such a dishonorable uselessness…. I never thought I’d ever say that out loud but I have to say it. So sorry.” She nestled closer into the protection of his shoulder.

“When he goes to Osaka, you’re finished, too?”

“Yes. The Toda clan are too powerful and important. In any event I would not be left alive.”

“Then you must come with me. We’ll escape. We’ll—”

“So sorry, but there’s no escape.”

“Unless Toranaga allows it,
neh?”

“Why should he allow it?”

Quickly Blackthorne told her what he had said to Toranaga, but not that he had also asked for her. “I know I can force the priests to bring Kiyama or Onoshi to his side, if he’ll allow me to take
this
Black Ship,” he finished excitedly, “and I know I can do that!”

“Yes,” she said, glad for the sake of the Church that he was hobbled by Toranaga’s decision. Again she examined the logic of his plan and found it flawless. “It should work. Anjin-san. Now that Harima’s hostile, there would be no reason why Toranaga-sama shouldn’t order an attack if he were going to war, and not surrendering.”

“If Lord Kiyama or Lord Onoshi, or both of them, joined him, would that tip the scale toward him?”

“Yes,” she said. “With Zataki and time.” She had already explained
the strategic importance of Zataki’s control of the northern route. “But Zataki’s opposed to Toranaga-sama.”

“Listen, I can strangle the priests. So sorry, but they
are
my enemy though they are your priests. I can dominate them on his behalf—on mine too. Will you help me to help him?”

She stared up at him. “How?”

“Help me to persuade him to give me the chance, and persuade him to delay going to Osaka.”

There was the sound of horses and voices raised on the jetty. Distracted, they went to the windows. Samurai were pulling aside one of the barriers. Father Alvito spurred forward into the clearing.

“What does he want?” Blackthorne muttered sourly.

They watched the priest as he dismounted and pulled out a scroll from his sleeve and gave it to the senior samurai. The man read it. Alvito looked up at the ship.

“Whatever it is, is official,” she said in a small voice.

“Listen, Mariko-san, I’m not against the Church. The Church isn’t evil, it’s the priests. And they’re not all bad. Alvito isn’t, though he’s fanatic. I swear to God I believe the Jesuits will bow to Lord Toranaga if I get their Black Ship and threaten next year’s, because they’ve got to have money—Portugal and Spain have got to have money. Toranaga’s more important. Will you help me?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll help you, Anjin-san. But, please excuse me, I cannot betray the Church.”

“All I ask is that you talk to Toranaga, or help me to talk to him if you think that’s better.”

A distant bugle sounded. They looked out of the windows again. Everyone was staring west. The head of a procession of samurai around a curtained litter approached from the direction of the castle.

The cabin door opened. “Anjin-san, you will come now, please,” the samurai said.

Blackthorne led the way on deck and down to the jetty. His nod to Alvito was coldly polite. The priest was equally glacial.

To Mariko, Alvito was kind. “Hello, Mariko-san. How nice to see you.”

“Thank you, Father,” she said, bowing low.

“May the blessings of God be upon you.” He made the sign of the cross over her. “
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Alvito glanced at Blackthorne. “So, Pilot? How is your ship?”

“I’m sure you already know.”

“Yes, I know.” Alvito looked
Erasmus
over, his face taut. “May God curse her and all who sail in her if she’s used against Faith and Portugal.”

“Is that why you came here? To spread more venom?”

“No, Pilot,” Alvito said. “I was asked here to meet Lord Toranaga. I find your presence as distasteful as you find mine.”

“Your presence isn’t distasteful, Father. It’s just the evil you represent.”

Alvito flushed and Mariko said quickly, “Please. It is bad to quarrel this way in public. I beg you both to be more circumspect.”

“Yes, please excuse me. I apologize, Mariko-san.” Father Alvito turned away and looked at the curtained litter coming through the barrier, Toranaga’s pennant fluttering, and uniformed samurai before and after, hemming in a straggling, motley group of samurai.

The palanquin stopped. The curtains parted. Yabu stepped out. Everyone was startled. Nonetheless they bowed. Yabu returned the salutation arrogantly.

“Ah, Anjin-san,” Yabu said. “How are you?”

“Good, thank you, Sire. And you?”

“Good, thank you. Lord Toranaga’s sick. He asked me to come in his place. You understand?”

“Yes. Understand,” Blackthorne replied, trying to cover his disappointment at Toranaga’s nonarrival. “So sorry Lord Toranaga sick.”

Yabu shrugged, acknowledged Mariko deferentially, pretended not to notice Alvito, and studied the ship for a moment. His smile was twisted as he turned back to Blackthorne. “
So desu
, Anjin-san. Your ship’s different from the last time I saw it,
neh?
Yes, the ship’s different, you’re different, everything’s different—even our world’s different!
Neh?”

“So sorry, I don’t understand, Sire. Please excuse me but your words very fast. As my—” Blackthorne began the stock phrase but Yabu interrupted gutturally, “Mariko-san, please translate for me.”

She did so.

Blackthorne nodded and said slowly, “Yes. Different, Yabu-sama.”

“Yes, very different—you’re no longer barbarian but samurai, and so is your ship,
neh?”

Blackthorne saw the smile on the thick lips, the pugnacious stance, and suddenly he was back at Anjiro, back on the beach on his knees, Croocq in the cauldron, Pieterzoon’s screams ringing in his ears, the stench of the pit in his nostrils, and his mind was shouting, ‘So
unnecessary all that—all the suffering and terror and Pieterzoon and Spillbergen and Maetsukker and the jail and
eta
and trapped and all your fault!’

“Are you all right, Anjin-san?” Mariko asked, apprehensive at the look in his eyes.

“What? Oh—oh, yes. Yes, I’m all right.”

“What’s the matter with him?” Yabu said.

Blackthorne shook his head, trying to clear it and wash the hatred off his face. “So sorry. Please excuse me. I’m—I—it’s nothing. Head bad—no sleep. So sorry.” He stared back into Yabu’s eyes, hoping he had covered his dangerous lapse. “Sorry Toranaga-sama sick—hope no trouble Yabu-sama.”

“No, no trouble.” Yabu was thinking, yes trouble, you’re nothing but trouble and I’ve had nothing but trouble ever since you and your filthy ship arrived on my shores. Izu gone, my guns gone, all honor gone, and now my head forfeit because of a coward. “No trouble, Anjin-san,” he said so nicely. “Toranaga-sama asked me to hand over your vassals to you as he promised.” His eyes fell on Alvito. “So, Tsukku-san! Why are you enemy to Toranaga-sama?”

“I’m not, Kasigi Yabu-sama.”

“Your Christian
daimyos
are,
neh?”

“Please excuse me, Sire, but we are priests only, we’re not responsible for the political views of those who worship the True Faith, nor do we exercise control over those
daintyos
who—”

“The
True Faith
of this Land of the Gods is Shinto, together with the Tao; the Way of Buddha!”

Alvito did not answer. Yabu turned contemptuously away and snapped an order. The ragged group of samurai began to line up in front of the ship. Not one was armed. Some had their hands bound.

Alvito stepped forward and bowed. “Perhaps you will excuse me, Sire. I was to see Lord Toranaga. As he isn’t coming—”

“Lord Toranaga wanted you here to interpret for him with the Anjin-san,” Yabu interrupted with deliberate bad manners, as Toranaga had told him to do. “Yes, to interpret as you alone can do so cleverly, speaking directly and at once,
neh?
Of course you have no objection to doing for me what Lord Toranaga required, before you go?”

“No, of course not, Sire.”

“Good. Mariko-san! Lord Toranaga asks that you see the Anjin-san’s
responses are equally correctly translated.” Alvito reddened but held onto his temper.

“Yes, Sire,” Mariko said, hating Yabu.

Yabu snapped another order. Two samurai went to the litter and returned with the ship’s strongbox, heavy between them. “Tsukku-san, now you will begin: Listen, Anjin-san, firstly, Lord Toranaga’s asked me to return this. It’s your property,
neh?
Open it,” he ordered the samurai. The box was brimful with silver coins. “This is as it was taken off the ship.”

“Thank you.” Blackthorne was hardly able to believe his eyes, for this gave him power to buy the very best crew, without promises.

“It is to be put in the ship’s strong room.”

“Yes, of course.”

Yabu waved those samurai aboard. Then, to Alvito’s growing fury as he continued with the almost simultaneous translating, Yabu said, “Next: Lord Toranaga says you are free to go, or to stay. When you are in our land you are samurai, hatamoto, and governed by samurai law. At sea, beyond our shores, you are as you were before you came here and governed by barbarian laws. You are granted the right for your lifetime to dock at any port in Lord Toranaga’s control without search by port authorities. Last, these two hundred men are your vassals. He asked me to formally hand them over, with arms, as he promised.”