Shogun (168 page)

“He doesn’t know, Sire.”

“A year? Ten years? I’ve barely got ten days.”

“So sorry, I wish I knew. Perhaps you should ask him, Sire.”

Toranaga looked directly at Blackthorne for the first time. The tall man was standing alone, the light gone from his face. “Anjin-san!”

“Yes, Sire?”

“Bad,
neh?
Very bad.” Toranaga pointed at the wreck below. “
Neh?”

“Yes, very bad, Sire.”

“How soon other ships come?”

“My ships, Sire?”

“Yes.”

“When—when Buddha says.”

“Tonight we talk. Go now. Thank you for Osaka. Yes. Go to galley—or village. Talk tonight. Understand?”

“Yes. Talk tonight, yes, understand, Sire. Thank you. When tonight, please?”

“I’ll send a messenger. Thank you for Osaka.”

“My duty,
neh?
But I do little. Toda Mariko-sama give everything. Everything for Toranaga-sama.”

“Yes.” Gravely Toranaga returned the bow. The Anjin-san began to leave, but stopped. Toranaga glanced at the far end of the plateau. Tsukku-san and his acolytes had just ridden in and were dismounting there. He had not granted the priest an interview at Mishima—though he had sent word to him at once about the ship’s destruction—and had deliberately kept him waiting, pending the outcome of Osaka and the safe arrival of the galley at Anjiro. Only then had he decided to bring the priest here with him to allow the confrontation to happen, at the right time.

Blackthorne began to head for the priest.

“No, Anjin-san. Later, not now. Now go village!” he ordered.

“But, Sire! That man kill my ship! He’s the enemy!”

“You will go there!” Toranaga pointed to the village below. “You will wait there please. Tonight we will talk.”

“Sire, please, that man—”

“No. You will go to the galley,” Toranaga said. “You will go now. Please.” This is better than breaking any falcon to the fist, he thought excitedly, momentarily distracted, putting his will to bear on Blackthorne. It’s better because the Anjin-san’s just as wild and dangerous and unpredictable, always an unknown quantity, unique, unlike any man I’ve ever known.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed Buntaro had moved into the Anjin-san’s path, ready and anxious to force obedience. How foolish, Toranaga thought in passing, and so unnecessary. He kept his eyes on Blackthorne. And dominated him.

“Yes. Go now, Lord Toranaga. So sorry. Go now,” Blackthorne said. He wiped the sweat off his face and started to go.

“Thank you, Anjin-san,” Toranaga said. He did not allow his triumph to show. He watched Blackthorne obediently walk away—violent, strong, murderous, but controlled now by the will of Toranaga.

Then he changed his mind. “Anjin-san!” he called out, deciding it was time to release the jesses and let the killer fly free. The final test. “Listen, go there if you wish. I think it better not to kill the Tsukku-san. But if you want to kill him—kill. Better not to kill.” He said it slowly and carefully, and repeated it. “
Wakarimasu ka?”

“Hai.”

Toranaga looked into the incredibly blue eyes that were filled with an unthinking animosity and he wondered if this wild bird, cast at its prey, would kill or not kill at his whim alone and return to the fist without eating. “
Wakarimasu ka?”

“Hai.”

Toranaga waved his hand in dismissal. Blackthorne turned and stalked off northward. Toward the Tsukku-san. Buntaro moved out of his way. Blackthorne did not seem to notice anyone except the priest. The day seemed to become more sultry.

“So, Yabu-san. What’s be going to do?” Toranaga asked.

“Kill. Of course he’ll kill if he can catch him. The priest deserves to die,
neh?
All Christian priests deserve to die,
neh?
All Christians. I’m sure they were behind the sabotage—the priests and Kiyama, though I can’t prove it.”

“You’ll gamble your life he’ll kill Tsukku-san?”

“No, Sire,” Yabu said hastily. “No. I wouldn’t. So sorry. He’s barbarian—they’re both barbarian.”

“Naga-san?”

“If it were me, I’d kill the priest and all of them, now that I had your permission. I’ve never known anyone openly to hate so much. The last two days the Anjin-san’s been like an insane man, walking up and down, muttering, staring at the wreck, sleeping there curled up on the sand, hardly eating….” Naga looked after Blackthorne again. “I agree it wasn’t just nature that destroyed the ship. I know the priests, somehow they were behind it—I can’t prove it either, but somehow … I don’t believe it happened because of the storm.”

“Choose!”

“He’ll explode. Look at his walk…. I think he’ll kill—I hope he’ll kill.”

“Buntaro-san?”

Buntaro turned back, his heavy jowls unshaven, his brawny legs planted, his fingers on his bow. “You advised him not to kill the Tsukku-san so you do not want the priest dead. If the Anjin-san kills or doesn’t kill matters nothing to me, Sire. I care only what matters to you. May I stop him if he begins to disobey you? I can do it easily from this range.”

“Could you guarantee to wound him only?”

“No, Sire.”

Toranaga laughed softly and broke the spell. “The Anjin-san won’t kill him. He’ll shout and rave or hiss like a snake and rattle his sword and the Tsukku-san will be swollen up with ‘holy’ zeal, completely unafraid, and he’ll hiss back saying, ‘It was an Act of God. I never touched your ship!’ Then the Anjin-san will call him a liar and the Tsukku-san will be filled with more zeal and repeat the claim and swear to the truth in his God’s name and he’ll probably curse him back and they’ll hate each other for twenty lifetimes. No one will die. At least, not now.”

“How do you know all that, Father?” Naga exclaimed.

“I don’t know it for certain, my son. But that’s what I think will happen. It’s always important to take time to study men—important men. Friends and enemies. To understand them. I’ve watched both of them. They’re both very important to me.
Neh
, Yabu-san?”

“Yes, Sire,” Yabu said, suddenly disquieted.

Naga shot a quick glance after Blackthorne. The Anjin-san was still walking with the same unhurried stride, now seventy paces away
from the Tsukku-san, who waited at the head of his acolytes, the breeze moving their orange robes.

“But, Father, neither is a coward,
neh?
Why doesn’t—how can they back away now with honor?”

“He won’t kill for three reasons. First, because the Tsukku-san’s unarmed and won’t fight back, even with his hands. It’s against their code to kill an unarmed man—that’s a dishonor, a sin against their Christian God. Second, because he’s Christian. Third, because I decided it was not the time.”

Buntaro said, “Please excuse me, but I can understand the third, even the first, but isn’t the real reason for their hate that both believe the other man’s not Christian but evil—a Satan worshiper? Isn’t that what they call it?”

“Yes, but this Jesus God of theirs taught or was supposed to have taught that you forgive your enemy. That’s being Christian.”

“That’s stupid,
neh?”
Naga said. “To forgive your enemy is stupid.”

“I agree.” Toranaga looked at Yabu. “It is foolish to forgive an enemy.
Neh
, Yabu-san?”

“Yes,” Yabu agreed.

Toranaga looked northward. The two figures were very close and now, privately, Toranaga was cursing his impetuousness. He still needed both men very much, and there had been no need to risk either of them. He had launched the Anjin-san for personal excitement, not to kill, and he regretted his stupidity. Now he waited, caught up as all of them. But it happened as he had forecast and the clash was short and sharp and spite-filled, even from this distance, and he fanned himself, greatly relieved. He would have dearly liked to have understood what had actually been said, to know if he had been correct. Soon they saw the Anjin-san stride away. Behind him, the Tsukku-san mopped his brow with a colored paper handkerchief.

“Eeeee!” Naga uttered in admiration. “How can we lose with you in command?”

“Too easily, my son, if that is my
karma
,” Then his mood changed. “Naga-san, order all samurai who came back with the galley from Osaka to my quarters.”

Naga hurried away.

“Yabu-san. I’m pleased to welcome you back safely. Dismiss the regiment—after the evening meal we’ll talk. May I send for you?”

“Of course. Thank you, Sire.” Yabu saluted and went off.

Now alone but for guards that he waved out of hearing, Toranaga studied Buntaro. Buntaro was unsettled, as a dog would be when stared at. When he could bear it no longer, he said, “Sire?”

“Once you asked for his head,
neh? Neh?”

“Yes—yes, Sire.”

“Well?”

“He—he insulted me at Anjiro. I’m—I’m still shamed.”

“I order that shame dismissed.”

“Then it’s dismissed, Sire. But she betrayed me with him and that cannot be dismissed, not while he’s alive. I’ve proof. I want him dead. Now. He … please, his ship’s gone, what use is he now to you, Sire? I ask it as a lifetime favor.”

“What proof?”

“Everyone knows. On the way from Yokosé. I talked to Yoshinaka. Everyone knows,” he added sullenly.

“Yoshinaka
saw
her and him together? He accused her?”

“No. But what he said …” Buntaro looked up, in agony. “I know, that is enough. Please, I beg it as a lifetime favor. I’ve never asked anything of you,
neh?”

“I need him alive. But for him the
ninja
would have captured her, and shamed her, and therefore you.”

“A lifetime wish,” Buntaro said. “I ask it. His ship’s gone—he’s, he’s done what you wanted. Please.”

“I have proof he did not shame you with her.”

“So sorry, what proof?”

“Listen. This is for your ears alone—as I agreed with her. I ordered her to become his friend.” Toranaga bore down on him. “They were friends, yes. The Anjin-san worshiped her, but he never shamed you with her, or she with him. At Anjiro, just before the earthquake, when she first suggested going to Osaka to free all the hostages—by challenging Ishido publicly and then forcing a crisis by committing seppuku, whatever he tried to do—on that day I de—”

“That was planned then?”

“Of course. Will you never learn? On that day I ordered her divorced from you.”

“Sire?”

“Divorced. Isn’t the word clear?”

“Yes, but—”

“Divorced. She’d driven you insane for years, you’d treated her foully for years. What about your treatment of her foster mother and
ladies? Didn’t I tell you I needed her to interpret the Anjin-san, yet you lost your temper and beat her—the truth is you almost killed her that time,
neh? Neh?”

“Yes—please excuse me.”

“The time had come to finish that marriage. I ordered it finished. Then.”

“She asked for divorce?”

“No. I decided and I ordered it. But your wife begged me to revoke the order. I refused. Then your wife said she would commit seppuku at once without my permission before she would allow you to be shamed in that way. I ordered her to obey. She refused.” Toranaga continued angrily, “Your wife forced me, her
liege lord
, to withdraw my legal order and made me agree to make my order absolute only after Osaka—both of us knowing that Osaka for her meant death. Do you understand?”

“Yes—yes, I understand that.”

“At Osaka the Anjin-san saved her honor and the honor of my ladies and my youngest son. But for him, they and
all
the hostages at Osaka would still be in Osaka, I’d be dead or in Ikawa Jikkyu’s hands, probably in chains like a common felon!”

“Please excuse me … but why did she do that? She hated me—why should she delay divorce? Because of Saruji?”

“For your honor. She understood duty. Your wife was so concerned for your honor—even after her death—that part of my agreement was that this was to be a private affair between her and you and myself. No one else would ever know, not the Anjin-san, her son, anyone—not even her Christian priest confessor.”

“What?”

Toranaga explained it again. At length Buntaro understood clearly and Toranaga dismissed him and then, at long last alone for the moment, he got up and stretched, exhausted by all his labor since he had arrived. The sun was still high though it was afternoon now. His thirst was great. He accepted cold cha from his personal bodyguard, then walked down to the shore. He stripped off his sopping kimono and swam, the sea feeling glorious to him, refreshing him. He swam underwater but did not stay submerged too long, knowing that his guards would be anxious. He surfaced and floated on his back, looking up into the sky, gathering strength for the long night ahead.

Ah, Mariko, he thought, what a wondrous lady you are. Yes,
are
, because you will certainly live forever. Are you with your Christian
God in your Christian heaven? I hope not. That would be a terrible waste. I hope your spirit’s just awaiting Buddha’s forty days for rebirth somewhere here. I pray your spirit comes into my family. Please. But again as a lady—not as a man. We could not afford to have you as a man. You’re much too special to waste as a man.

He smiled. It had happened at Anjiro just as he had told Buntaro, though she had never forced him to rescind his order. “How could she force me to do anything I didn’t want?” he said to the sky. She had
asked
him dutifully, correctly, not to make the divorce public until after Osaka. But, he assured himself, she would certainly have committed seppuku if I’d refused her. She would have insisted,
neh?
Of course she would have insisted and that would have ruined everything. By agreeing in advance I merely saved her unnecessary shame and argument, and myself unnecessary trouble—and by keeping it private now, as I’m sure she would have wished it, everyone gains further. I’m glad I conceded, he thought benignly, then laughed aloud. A slight wave chopped over him and he took a mouthful of sea water and choked.

“Are you all right, Sire?” an anxious guard, swimming nearby, called out.

“Yes. Of course yes.” Toranaga retched again and spat out the phlegm, treading water, and thought, that will teach you to be smug. That’s your second mistake today. Then he saw the wreck. “Come on, I’ll race you!” he called out to his guard.