Shogun (177 page)

“No. Was anyone hurt?”

“No. But that was only through the Grace of God. Next time … It seems one of them has made a still. Terrible what drink does to a man.”

“Yes. Pity about their house. They’ll build another.”

Alvito nodded and looked back at the spines washed by the waves. “I wanted to tell you before I go, I know what the loss of Mariko-san means to you. I was greatly saddened by your story about Osaka, but in a way uplifted. I understand what her sacrifice means … Did she tell you about her father, all that other tragedy?”

“Yes. Some of it.”

“Ah. Then you understand also. I knew Ju-san Kubo quite well.”

“What? You mean Akechi Jinsai?”

“Oh, sorry, yes. That’s the name he’s known by now. Didn’t Mariko-sama tell you?”

“No.”

“The Taikō sneeringly dubbed him that:
Ju-san Kubo, Shōgun of the Thirteen Days
. His rebellion—from mustering his men to the great seppuku—lasted only thirteen days. He was a fine man but he hated us, not because we were Christians but because we were foreigners. I often wondered if Mariko became Christian just to learn our ways, to destroy us. He often said I poisoned Goroda against him.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“What was he like?”

“A short, bald man, very proud, a fine general and a poet of great note. So sad to end that way, all the Akechis. And now the last of them. Poor Mariko … but what she did saved Toranaga, if God wills it.” Alvito’s fingers touched his rosary. After a moment he said, “Also, Pilot, also before I go I want to apologize for … well, I’m glad the Father-Visitor was there to save you.”

“You apologize for my ship too?”

“Not for the
Erasmus
, though I had nothing to do with that. I apologize only for those men, Pesaro and the Captain-General. I’m glad your ship’s gone.”

“
Shigata ga nai
, Father. Soon I’ll have another.”

“What kind of craft will you try to build?”

“One big enough and strong enough.”

“To attack the Black Ship?”

“To sail home to England—and defend myself against anyone.”

“It will be a waste, all that labor.”

“There’ll be another ‘Act of God’?”

“Yes. Or sabotage.”

“If there is and my new ship fails, I’m going to build another, and if that fails, another. I’m going to build a ship or get a berth and when I get back to England I’m going to beg or borrow or buy or steal a privateer and then I’m coming back.”

“Yes. I know. That’s why you will never leave. You know too much, Anjin-san. I told you that before and I say it again, but with no malice. Truly. You’re a brave man, a fine adversary, one to respect, and I do, and there should be peace between us. We’re going to see a lot of each other over the years—if any of us survive the war.”

“Are we?”

“Yes. You’re too good at Japanese. Soon you’ll be Toranaga’s personal interpreter. We shouldn’t quarrel, you and I. I’m afraid our destinies are interlocked. Did Mariko-san tell you that, too? She told me.”

“No. She never said that. What else did she tell you?”

“She begged me to be your friend, to protect you if I could. Anjin-san, I didn’t come here to goad you, or to quarrel, but to ask a peace before I go.”

“Where are you going?”

“First to Nagasaki, by ship from Mishima. There are trade negotiations to conclude. Then to wherever Toranaga is, wherever the battle will be.”

“They’ll let you travel freely, in spite of the war?”

“Oh, yes. They need us—whoever wins. Surely we can be reasonable men, and make peace—you and I. I ask it because of Mariko-sama.”

Blackthorne said nothing for a moment. “Once we had a truce, because she wanted it. I’ll offer you that. A truce, not a peace—providing you agree not to come within fifty miles of where my shipyard is.”

“I agree, Pilot, of course I agree—but you’ve nothing to fear from me. A truce, then, in her memory.” Alvito put out his hand. “Thank you.”

Blackthorne shook the hand firmly. Then Alvito said, “Soon her funeral will take place at Nagasaki. It’s to be in the cathedral. The Father-Visitor will say the service himself, Anjin-san. Part of her ashes are to be entombed there.”

“That would please her.” Blackthorne watched the wreck for a moment, then looked back at Alvito. “One thing I … I didn’t mention to Toranaga: Just before she died I gave her a Benediction as a priest would, and the last rites as best I could. There was no one
else and she was Catholic. I don’t think she heard me, I don’t know if she was conscious. And I did it again at her cremation. Would that—would that be the same? Would that be acceptable? I tried to do it before God, not mine or yours, but God.”

“No, Anjin-san. We are taught that it would not. But two days before she died she asked for and received absolution from the Father-Visitor and she was sanctified.”

“Then … then she knew all along she had to die … whatever happened, she was a sacrifice.”

“Yes, God bless her and cherish her!”

“Thank you for telling me,” Blackthorne said. “I’ve … I was always worried my intercession would never work, though I…. Thank you for telling me.”

“
Sayonara
, Anjin-san,” Alvito said, offering his hand again.

“
Sayonara
, Tsukku-san. Please, light a candle for her … from me.”

“I will.”

Blackthorne shook the hand and watched the priest walk away, tall and strong, a worthy adversary. We’ll always be enemies, he thought. We both know it, truce or no truce. What would you say if you knew Toranaga’s plan and my plan? Nothing more than you’ve already threatened,
neh?
Good. We understand each other. A truce will do no harm. But we won’t be seeing much of each other, Tsukku-san. While my ship’s abuilding I’ll take your place as interpreter with Toranaga and the Regents and soon you’ll be out of trade negotiations, even while Portuguese ships carry the silk. And all that’ll change too. My fleet will only be the beginning. In ten years the Lion of England will rule these seas. But first
The Lady
, then all the rest….

Contentedly Blackthorne walked back to Naga and settled plans for tomorrow, then climbed the slope to his temporary house, near Toranaga. There he ate rice and slivered raw fish that one of his cooks had prepared for him and found them delicious. He took a second helping and began to laugh.

“Sire?”

“Nothing.” But in his head he was seeing Mariko and hearing her say, ‘Oh, Anjin-san, one day perhaps we’ll even get you to like raw fish and then you’ll be on the road to nirvana—the Place of Perfect Peace.’

Ah, Mariko, he thought, I’m so glad about the real absolution. And I thank thee.

For what, Anjin-san? he could hear her say.

For life, Mariko my darling. Thou….

Many times during the days and the nights he would talk to her in his head, reliving parts of their life together and telling her about today, feeling her presence very close, always so close that once or twice he had looked over his shoulder expecting to see her standing there.

I did that this morning, Mariko, but instead of you it was Buntaro, Tsukku-san beside him, both glaring at me. I had my sword but he had his great bow in his hands. Eeeee, my love, it took all my courage to walk over and greet them formally. Were you watching? You would have been proud of me, so calm and samurai and petrified. He said so stiffly, talking through Tsukku-san, “Lady Kiritsubo and the Lady Sazuko have informed me how you protected my wife’s honor and theirs. How you saved her from shame. And them. I thank you, Anjin-san. Please excuse my vile temper of before. I apologize and thank you.” Then he bowed to me and went away and I wanted you so much to be there—to know that everything’s protected and no one will ever know.

Many times Blackthorne had looked over his shoulder expecting her there, but she was never there and never would be and this did not disturb him. She was with him forever, and he knew he would love her in the good times and in the tragic times, even in the winter of his life. She was always on the edge of his dreams. And now those dreams were good, very good, and intermixed with her were drawings and plans and the carving of the figurehead and sails and how to set the keel and how to build the ship and then, such joy, the final shape of
The Lady
under full sail, bellied by a sharp sou’wester, racing up the Channel, the bit between her teeth, halyards shrieking, spars stretched on a larboard tack and then, ‘All sails ho! Topsails, mainsails, royals, and top topgallants!’ easing out the ropes, giving her every inch, the cannonade of the sails reaching on the other tack and ‘Steady as she goes!’ every particle of canvas answering his cry, and then at long last, full-bodied, a lady of inestimable beauty turning hard aport near Beachy Head for London …

Toranaga came up the rise near the camp, his party grouped around him. Kogo was on his gauntlet and he had hunted the coast and now he was going into the hills above the village. There were still two hours of sun left and he did not want to waste the sun, not knowing when he would ever have the time to hunt again.

Today was for me, he thought. Tomorrow I go to war but today was to put my house in order, pretending that the Kwanto was safe and Izu safe, and my succession—that I will live to see another winter and, in the spring, hunt at leisure. Ah, today has been very good.

He had killed twice with Tetsu-ko and she had flown like a dream, never so perfectly, not even when she’d made the kill with Naga near Anjiro—that beautiful, never-to-be-forgotten stoop to take that wily old cock pigeon. Today she had taken a crane several times her own size and come back to the lure perfectly. A pheasant had been pointed by the dogs and he had cast the falcon to her circling station aloft. Then the pheasant had been flushed and the soaring, climbing, falling had begun, to last forever, the kill beautiful. Again Tetsu-ko had come to the lure and fed from his fist proudly.

Now he was after hare. It had occurred to him that the Anjin-san would enjoy meat. So, instead of finishing for the day, satisfied, Toranaga had decided to go for game for the pot. He quickened his pace, not wanting to fail.

His outriders led the way past the camp and up the winding road to the crest above and he was greatly pleased with his day.

His critical gaze swept over the camp, seeking dangers, and found none. He could see men at weapon training—all regimental training and firing was forbidden while the Tsukku-san was nearby—and that pleased him. To one side, glinting in the sun, were the twenty cannon that had been salvaged with such care and he noticed that Blackthorne was squatting cross-legged on the ground nearby, concentrating over a low table, now like any normal person would sit. Below was the wreck and he noted that it had not yet moved, and he wondered how the Anjin-san would bring it ashore if it could not be pulled ashore.

Because, Anjin-san, you will bring it ashore, Toranaga told himself, quite certain.

Oh, yes. And you will build your ship and I’ll destroy her like I destroyed the other one, or give her away, another sop to the Christians who are more important to me than your ships, my friend, so sorry, and the other ships waiting in your home land. Your countrymen will bring those out to me, and the treaty with your Queen. Not you. I need you here.

When the time’s right, Anjin-san, I’ll tell you why I had to burn your ship, and by then you won’t mind because other things will be occupying you, and you’ll understand what I told you was still the truth: It was your ship or your life. I chose your life. That was correct,
neh?
Then we’ll laugh about the “Act of God,” you and I. Oh, it was easy to appoint a special watch of trusted men aboard with secret instructions to spread gunpowder loosely and liberally on the chosen night, having already told Naga—the moment Omi whispered about Yabu’s plot—to rearrange the roster so that the following shore and deck watch were only Izu men, particularly the fifty-three traitors. Then a single
ninja
with a flint out of the darkness and your ship was a torch. Of course neither Omi nor Naga was ever party to the sabotage.

So sorry, but so necessary, Anjin-san. I saved your life, which you wanted even above your ship. Fifty times or more I’ve had to consider giving your life away but so far I’ve always managed to avoid it. I hope to continue to do that. Why? This is a day for truth,
neh?
The answer is because you make me laugh and I need a friend. I daren’t make friends among my own people, or among the Portuguese. Yes, I will whisper it down a well at noon but only when I’m certain I’m alone, that I
need one friend
. And also your knowledge. Mariko-sama was right again. Before you go I want to know everything you know. I told you we both had plenty of time, you and I.

I want to know how to navigate a ship around the earth and understand how a small island nation can defeat a huge empire. Perhaps the answer could apply to us and China,
neh?
Oh yes, the Taikō was right in some things.

The first time I saw you, I said, “There’s no excuse for rebellion,” and you said, “There’s one—if you win!” Ah, Anjin-san, I bound you to me then. I agree. Everything’s right if you win.

Stupid to fail. Unforgivable.

You won’t fail, and you’ll be safe and happy in your large fief at Anjiro, where Mura the fisherman will guard you from Christians and continue to feed them misinformation as I direct. How naïve of Tsukku-san to believe one of my men, even Christian, would steal your rutters and give them secretly to the priests without my knowledge, or my direction. Ah, Mura, you’ve been faithful for thirty years or more, soon you’ll get your reward! What would the priests say if they knew your real name was Akira Tonomoto, samurai—spy at my direction, as well as fisherman, headman, and Christian? They’d fart dust,
neh?

So don’t worry, Anjin-san, I’m worrying about your future. You’re in good strong hands and, ah, what a future I’ve planned for you.

“I’m to be consort to the barbarian, oh oh oh?” Kiku had wailed aloud.

“Yes, within the month. Fujiko-san has formally agreed.” He had told Kiku and Gyoko the truth once more, patiently giving the distraught girl face. “And a thousand koku a year after the birth of the Anjin-san’s first son.”