Fujiko had been injured. Nigatsu, her maid, was dead. The first shock had collapsed the central pillars of the house, scattering the coals of the kitchen fire. Fujiko and Nigatsu had been trapped by one of the fallen beams and the flames had turned Nigatsu into a torch. Fujiko had been pulled free. One of the cook’s children had also been killed, but the rest of his servants had suffered only bruises and some twisted limbs. They all were overjoyed to find that Blackthorne was alive and unhurt.
Fujiko was lying on a salvaged futon near the undamaged garden fence, half conscious. When she saw also that Blackthorne was unscathed she almost wept. ‘I thank Buddha you’re not hurt, Anjin-san,’ she said weakly.
Still partially in shock, she tried to get up but he bade her not to move. Her legs and lower back were badly burned. A doctor was already tending her, wrapping bandages soaked in cha and other herbs around her limbs to soothe them. Blackthorne hid his concern and waited until the doctor had finished, then said privately, ‘Fujiko-san, yoi ka?‘ Lady Fujiko will be all right?
The doctor shrugged. ‘Hai.‘ His lips came back from his protruding teeth again. ‘Karma, neh?‘
‘Hai.‘ Blackthorne had seen enough burned seamen die to know that any bad burn was dangerous, the open wound almost always rotting within a few days and nothing to stop the infection spreading. ‘I don’t want her to die.’
‘Dozo?‘
He said it in Japanese and the doctor shook his head and told him that the Lady would surely be all right. She was young and strong.
‘Shigata ga nai,‘ the doctor said and ordered maids to keep her bandages moist, gave Blackthorne herbs for his own abrasions, told him he would return soon, then scuttled up the hill toward Omi’s wrecked house above.
Blackthorne stood at his main gate, which was unharmed. Buntaro’s arrows were still embedded in the left post. Absently he touched one. Karma that she was burned, he thought sadly.
He went back to Fujiko and ordered a maid to bring cha. He helped her to drink and held her hand until she slept, or appeared to sleep. His servants were salvaging whatever they could, working quickly, helped by a few villagers. They knew the rains would be coming soon. Four men were trying to erect a temporary shelter.
‘Dozo, Anjin-san.’ The cook was offering him fresh tea, trying to keep the misery off his face. The little girl had been his favorite daughter.
‘Domo,‘ Blackthorne replied. ‘Sumimasen.‘ I’m sorry.
‘Arigato, Anjin-san. Karma, neh?‘
Blackthorne nodded, accepted the tea, and pretended not to notice the cook’s grief, lest he shame him. Later a samurai came up the hill bringing word from Toranaga that Blackthorne and Fujiko were to sleep in the fortress until the house was rebuilt. Two palanquins arrived. Blackthorne lifted her gently into one of them and sent her with maids. He dismissed his own palanquin, telling her he’d follow soon.
The rain began but he paid it no heed. He sat on a stone in the garden that had given him so much pleasure. Now it was a shambles. The little bridge was broken, the pond shattered, and the streamlet had vanished.
‘Never mind,’ he said to no one. ‘The rocks aren’t dead.’
Ueki-ya had told him that a garden must be settled around its rocks, that without them a garden is empty, merely a place of growing.
One of the rocks was jagged and ordinary but Ueki-ya had planted it so that if you looked at it long and hard near sunset, the reddish glow glinting off the veins and crystal buried within, you could see a whole range of mountains with lingering valleys and deep lakes and, far off, a greening horizon, night gathering there.
Blackthorne touched the rock. ‘I name you Ueki-ya-sama,’ he said. This pleased him and he knew that if Ueki-ya were alive, the old man would have been very pleased also. Even though he’s dead, perhaps he’ll know, Blackthorne told himself, perhaps his kami is here now. Shintoists believed that when they died they became a kami. . . .
‘What is a kami, Mariko-san?’
‘Kami is inexplicable, Anjin-san. It is like a spirit but not, like a soul but not. Perhaps it is the insubstantial essence of a thing or person . . . you should know a human becomes a kami after death but a tree or rock or plant or painting is equally a kami. Kami are venerated, never worshiped. They exist between heaven and earth and visit this Land of the Gods or leave it, all at the same time.’
‘And Shinto? What’s Shinto?’
‘Ah, that is inexplicable too, so sorry. It’s like a religion, but isn’t. At first it even had no name—we only called it Shinto, the Way of the Kami, a thousand years ago, to distinguish it from Butsudo, the Way of Buddha. But though it’s indefinable Shinto is the essence of Japan and the Japanese, and though it possesses neither theology nor godhead nor faith nor system of ethics, it is our justification for existence. Shinto is a nature cult of myths and legends in which no one believes wholeheartedly, yet everyone venerates totally. A person is Shinto in the same way he is born Japanese.’
‘Are you Shinto too—as well as Christian?’
‘Oh yes, oh very yes, of course. . . .’
Blackthorne touched the stone again. ‘Please, kami of Ueki-ya, please stay in my garden.’
Then, careless of the rain, he let his eyes take him into the rock, past the lush valleys and serene lake and to the greening horizon, darkness gathering there.
His ears told him to come back. He looked up. Omi was watching him, squatting patiently on his haunches. It was still raining and Omi wore a newly pressed kimono under his rice-straw raincoat, and a wide, conical bamboo hat. His hair was freshly shampooed.
‘Karma, Anjin-san,’ he said, motioning at the smoldering ruins.
‘Hai. Ikaga desu ka?‘ Blackthorne wiped the rain off his face.
‘Yoi.‘ Omi pointed up at his house. ‘Watakushi no yuya wa hakaisarete imasen ostukai ni narimasen ka?‘ My bath wasn’t damaged. Would you care to use it?
‘Ah so desu! Domo, Omi-san, hai, domo.‘ Gratefully Blackthorne followed Omi up the winding path, into his courtyard. Servants and village artisans under Mura’s supervision were already hammering and sawing and repairing. The central posts were already back in place and the roof almost resettled.
With signs and simple words and much patience, Omi explained that his servants had managed to douse the fires in time. Within a day or two, he told Blackthorne, the house would be up again, as good as it was, so not to worry. Yours will take longer, a week, Anjin-san. Don’t worry, Fujiko-san is a fine manager. She’ll have all costs arranged with Mura in no time and your house’ll be better than ever. I hear she was burned? Well, this happens sometimes, but not to worry, our doctors are very expert with burns—they have to be, neh? Yes, Anjin-san, it was a bad quake, but not that bad. The rice fields were hardly touched and the so essential irrigation system was undamaged. And the boats weren’t damaged and that’s very important too. Only a hundred and fifty-four samurai were killed in the avalanche, that’s not many, neh? As to the village, a week and you’ll hardly know there was a quake. Five peasants were killed and a few children—nothing! Anjiro was very lucky, neh? I hear you pulled Toranaga-sama out of a death trap. We’re all grateful to you, Anjin-san. Very. If we’d lost him . . . Lord Toranaga said he accepted your sword—you’re lucky, that’s a great honor. Yes. Your karma‘s strong, very good, very rich. Yes, we thank you very much. Listen, we’ll talk more after you’ve bathed. I’m glad to have you as a friend.’
Omi called out for the bath attendants. ‘Isogi!‘ Hurry up!
The servants escorted Blackthorne to the bath house, which was set within a tiny maple grove and joined to the main house by a neat winding walk, usually roofed. The bath was much more luxurious than his own. One wall was cracked badly but villagers were already replastering it. The roof was sound although a few tiles were missing and rain leaked in here and there, but that did not matter.
Blackthorne stripped and sat on the tiny seat. The servants lathered him and shampooed him in the rain. When he was cleansed he went inside and immersed himself in the steaming bath. All his troubles melted away.
Fujiko’s going to be all right. I’m a lucky man—lucky I was there to pull Toranaga out, lucky to save Mariko, and lucky he was there to pull us out.
Suwo’s magic renewed him as usual. Later he let Suwo dress his bruises and cuts and put on the clean loincloth and kimono and tabi that had been left for him, and went out. The rain had stopped.
A temporary lean-to had been erected in one corner of the garden. It had a neat raised floor and was furnished with clean futons and a little vase with a flower arrangement. Omi was waiting for him and in attendance was a toothless, hard-faced old woman.
‘Please sit down, Anjin-san,’ Omi said.
‘Thank you, and thanks for the clothes,’ he replied in halting Japanese.
‘Please don’t mention it. Would you like cha or saké?’
‘Cha,’ Blackthorne decided, thinking that he had better keep his head clear for his interview with Toranaga. ‘Thank you.’
‘This is my mother,’ Omi said formally, clearly idolizing her.
Blackthorne bowed. The old woman simpered and sucked in her breath.
‘It’s my honor, Anjin-san,’ she said.
‘Thank you, but I’m honored.’ Blackthorne repeated automatically the succession of formal politenesses that Mariko had taught him.
‘Anjin-san, we were so sorry to see your house in flames.’
‘What could one do? That’s karma, neh?‘
‘Yes, karma.‘ The old woman looked away and scowled. ‘Hurry up! The Anjin-san wants his cha warm!’
The girl standing beside the maid who carried the tray took Blackthorne’s breath away. Then he remembered her. Wasn’t this the girl he’d seen with Omi, the first time, when he was passing through the village square on his way to the galley?
‘This is my wife,’ Omi said tersely.
‘I’m honored,’ Blackthorne said as she took her place, knelt, and bowed.
‘You must forgive her slowness,’ Omi’s mother said. ‘Is the cha warm enough for you?’
‘Thank you, it’s very good.’ Blackthorne had noted that the old woman had not used the wife’s name as she should have. But then, he was not surprised because Mariko had told him already about the dominating position of a girl’s mother-in-law in Japanese society.
‘Thank God it’s not the same in Europe,’ he had told her.
‘A wife’s mother-in-law can do no wrong—after all, Anjin-san, the parents choose the wife in the first place and what father would choose without first consulting his own wife? Of course, the daughter-in-law has to obey, and the son always does what his mother and father want.’
‘Always?’
‘Always.’
‘What if the son refuses?’
‘That’s not possible. Everyone has to obey the head of the house. A son’s first duty is to his parents. Of course. Sons are given everything by their mothers—life, food, tenderness, protection. She succors them all their lives. So of course it’s right that a son should heed his mother’s wishes. The daughter-in-law-she has to obey. That’s her duty.’
‘It’s not the same with us.’
‘It’s hard to be a good daughter-in-law, very hard. You just have to hope that you live long enough to have sons to become one yourself.’
‘And your mother-in-law?’
‘Ah, she’s dead, Anjin-san. She died many years ago. I never knew her. Lord Hiro-matsu, in his wisdom, never took another wife.’
‘Buntaro-san’s his only son?’
‘Yes. My husband has five living sisters, but no brothers.’ She had joked, ‘In a way we’re related now, Anjin-san. Fujiko’s my husband’s niece. What’s the matter?’
‘I’m surprised you never told me, that’s all.’
‘Well, it’s complicated, Anjin-san.’ Then Mariko had explained that Fujiko was actually an adopted daughter of Numata Akinori, who had married Buntaro’s youngest sister, and that Fujiko’s real father was a grandson of the Dictator Goroda by his eighth consort, that Fujiko had been adopted by Numata when an infant at the Taikō’s orders because the Taikō wanted closer ties between the descendants of Hiro-matsu and Goroda. . . .
‘What?’
Mariko had laughed, telling him that, yes, Japanese family relationships were very complicated because adoption was normal, that families exchanged sons and daughters often, and divorced and remarried and intermarried all the time. With so many legal consorts and the ease of divorce—particularly if at the order of a liege lord—all families soon become incredibly tangled.
‘To unravel Lord Toranaga’s family links accurately would take days, Anjin-san. Just think of the complications: Presently he has seven official consorts living, who have given him five sons and three daughters. Some of the consorts were widows or previously married with other sons and daughters—some of these Toranaga adopted, some he did not. In Japan you don’t ask if a person is adopted or natural. Truly, what does it matter? Inheritance is always at the whim of the head of the house, so adopted or not it is the same, neh? Even Toranaga’s mother was divorced. Later she remarried and had three more sons and two daughters by her second husband, all of whom are also now married! Her eldest son from her second marriage is Zataki, Lord of Shinano.’
Blackthorne had mulled that. Then he had said, ‘Divorce isn’t possible for us. Not possible.’
‘So the Holy Fathers tell us. So sorry, but that’s not very sensible, Anjin-san. Mistakes happen, people change, that’s karma, neh? Why should a man have to bear a foul wife, or a wife a foul man? Foolish to be stuck forever, man or woman, neh?‘
‘Yes.’
‘In this we are very wise and the Holy Fathers unwise. This was one of the two great reasons the Taikō would not embrace Christianity, this foolishness about divorce—and the sixth Commandment, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ The Father-Visitor sent all the way to Rome begging dispensation for Japanese about divorce. But His Holiness the Pope, in his wisdom, said no. If His Holiness had said yes, I believe the Taikō would have converted, the daimyos would be following the True Faith now, and the land would be Christian. The matter of ‘killing’ would have been unimportant because no one pays any attention to that really, Christians least of all. Such a little concession, for so much, neh?‘
‘Yes,’ Blackthorne had said. How sensible divorce seemed here. Why was it a mortal sin at home, opposed by every priest in Christendom, Catholic or Protestant, in the name of God?
‘What’s Toranaga’s wife like?’ he had asked, wanting to keep her talking. Most of the time she avoided the subject of Toranaga and his family history and it was important for Blackthorne to know everything.
A shadow had crossed Mariko’s face. ‘She’s dead. She was his second wife and she died ten or eleven years ago. She was the Taikō’s stepsister. Lord Toranaga was never successful with his wives, Anjin-san.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, the second was old and tired and grasping, worshiping gold, though pretending not to, like her brother, the Taikō himself. Barren and bad-tempered. It was a political marriage, of course. I had to be one of her ladies-in-waiting for a time. Nothing would please her and none of the youths or men could unwind the knot in her Golden Pavilion.’
‘What?’
‘Her Jade Gate, Anjin-san. With their Turtle Heads—their Steaming Shafts. Don’t you understand? Her . . . thing.’
‘Oh! I understand. Yes.’
‘No one could unwind her knot . . . could satisfy her.’
‘Not even Toranaga?’
‘He never pillowed her, Anjin-san,’ she had said, quite shocked. ‘Of course, after the marriage he had nothing to do with her, other than give her a castle and retainers and the keys to his treasure house—why should he? She was quite old, she’d been married twice before, but her brother, the Taikō, had dissolved the marriages. A most unpleasant woman—everyone was most relieved when she went into the Great Void, even the Taikō, and all her stepdaughters-in-law and all of Toranaga’s consorts secretly burnt incense with great joy.’
‘And Toranaga’s first wife?’
‘Ah, the Lady Tachibana. That was another political marriage. Lord Toranaga was eighteen, she fifteen. She grew up to be a terrible woman. Twenty years ago Toranaga had her put to death because he discovered she was secretly plotting to assassinate their liege lord, the Dictator Goroda, whom she hated. My father often told me he thought they were all lucky to retain their heads—he, Toranaga, Nakamura, and all the generals—because Goroda was merciless, relentless, and particularly suspicious of those closest to him. That woman could have ruined them all, however innocent they were. Because of her plot against Lord Goroda, her only son, Nobunaga, was also put to death, Anjin-san. She killed her own son. Think of that, so sad, so terrible. Poor Nobunaga—he was Toranaga’s favorite son and his official heir—brave, a general in his own right, and totally loyal. He was innocent but she still embroiled him in her plot. He was only nineteen when Toranaga ordered him to commit seppuku.’
‘Toranaga killed his own son? And his wife?’
‘Yes, he ordered them onward, but he had no choice, Anjin-san. If he hadn’t, Lord Goroda would correctly have presumed Toranaga to be part of the plot himself and would have ordered him instantly to slit his belly. Oh yes, Toranaga was lucky to escape Goroda’s wrath and wise to send her onward quickly. When she was dead her daughter-in-law and all Toranaga’s consorts were very much ecstatic. Her son had had to send his first wife home in disgrace on her orders for some imagined slight—after bearing him two children. The girl committed seppuku—did I tell you ladies commit seppuku by slitting their throats, Anjin-san, and not their stomachs like men?—but she went to death gratefully, glad to be freed from a life of tears, as the next wife prayed for death, her life made equally miserable by her mother-in-law. . . .’
Now, looking at Midori’s mother-in-law, the tea dribbling down her chin, Blackthorne knew that this old hag had power of life or death, divorce or degradation over Midori, provided her husband, the head of their house, agreed. And, whatever they decided, Omi would obey. How terrible, he told himself.
Midori was as graceful and youthful as the old woman was not, her face oval, her hair rich. She was more beautiful than Mariko, but without her fire and strength, pliant as a fern and fragile as gossamer.
‘Where are the small foods? Of course the Anjin-san must be hungry, neh?‘ the old woman said.
‘Oh, so sorry,’ Midori replied at once. ‘Fetch some instantly,’ she said to the maid. ‘Hurry! So sorry, Anjin-san!’
‘So sorry, Anjin-san,’ the old woman said.
‘Please don’t apologize,’ Blackthorne said to Midori, and instantly knew that it was a mistake. Good manners decreed that he should acknowledge only the mother-in-law, particularly if she had an evil reputation. ‘So sorry,’ he said. ‘I not hungry. Tonight I eat must with Lord Toranaga.’
‘Ah so desu! We heard you saved his life. You should know how grateful we are—all his vassals!’ the old woman said.
‘It was duty. I did nothing.’
‘You did everything, Anjin-san. Omi-san and Lord Yabu appreciate your action as much as all of us.’
Blackthorne saw the old woman looking at her son. I wish I could fathom you, you old bitch, he thought. Are you as evil as that other one, Tachibana?
Omi said, ‘Mother, I’m fortunate to have the Anjin-san as a friend.’
‘We’re all fortunate,’ she said.
‘No, I’m fortunate,’ Blackthorne replied. ‘I fortunate have friends as family of Kasigi Omi-san.’ We’re all lying, Blackthorne thought, but I don’t know why you are. I’m lying for self-protection and because it’s custom. But I’ve never forgotten. . . . Wait a moment. In all honesty, wasn’t that karma? Wouldn’t you have done what Omi did? That was long ago—in a previous life, neh? It’s meaningless now.
A group of horsemen clattered up the rise, Naga at their head. He dismounted and strode into the garden. All the villagers stopped working and went onto their knees. He motioned them to continue.
‘So sorry to disturb you, Omi-san, but Lord Toranaga sent me.’
‘Please, you’re not disturbing me. Please join us,’ Omi said. Midori at once gave up her cushion, bowing very low. ‘Would you like cha or saké, Naga-sama?’
Naga sat. ‘Neither, thank you. I’m not thirsty.’
Omi pressed him politely, going through the interminable necessary ritual, even though it was obvious that Naga was in a hurry. ‘How is the Lord Toranaga?’
‘Very good. Anjin-san, you did us a great service. Yes. I thank you personally.’
‘It was duty, Naga-san. But I did little. Lord Toranaga pulled me from—pulled me from earth also.’
‘Yes. But that was afterward. I thank you very much.’
‘Naga-san, is there something I can do for Lord Toranaga?’ Omi asked, etiquette finally allowing him to come to the point.
‘He would like to see you after the evening meal. There is to be a full conference of all officers.’
‘I would be honored.’
‘Anjin-san, you are to come with me now, if it pleases you.’
‘Of course. It is my honor.’
More bows and salutations and then Blackthorne was on a horse and they were cantering down the hill. When the phalanx of samurai came to the square, Naga reined in.
‘Anjin-san!’
‘Hai?‘
‘I thank you with all my heart for saving Lord Toranaga. Allow me to be your friend . . . ‘ and some words Blackthorne did not catch.
‘So sorry, I don’t understand. ‘Karite iru‘?‘
‘Ah, so sorry. ‘Karite iru‘—one man karite iru another man things—like ‘debt.’ You understand ‘debt’?’
‘Owe’ jumped into Blackthorne’s head. ‘Ah so desu! Wakarimasu.‘
‘Good. I only said that I owed you a debt.’
‘It was my duty, neh?‘
‘Yes. Even so, I owe you a life.’
‘Toranaga-sama says all cannon powder and shot were put back on your ship, Anjin-san, here at Anjiro before it left for Yedo. He asks you how long would it take you to get ready for sea?’
‘That depends on her state, if the men’ve careened her and cared for her, the mast replaced and so on. Does Lord Toranaga know how she is?’
‘The ship seems in order, he says, but he’s not a seaman so he couldn’t be sure. He has not been on it since it was first towed into Yedo harbor when he gave instructions for it to be cared for. Presuming the ship is seaworthy, neh, he asks how long would it take you to ready for war?’
Blackthorne’s heart missed a beat. ‘On whom do I war, Mariko-san?’
‘He asks, on whom would you wish to war?’
‘This year’s Black Ship,’ Blackthorne replied at once, making a sudden decision, desperately hoping that this was the correct moment to place before Toranaga the plan he’d secretly developed over the days. He was gambling that saving Toranaga’s life this morning gave him a special privilege that would help him over the rough spots.
Mariko was taken by surprise. ‘What?’
‘The Black Ship. Tell Lord Toranaga that all he has to do is give me his letters of marque. I’ll do the rest. With my ship and just a little help . . . we split the cargo, all silks and bullion.’
She laughed. Toranaga did not.
‘My—my Master says that would be an unforgivable act of war against a friendly nation. The Portuguese are essential to Japan.’
‘Yes, they are—at the moment. But I believe they’re his enemy as well as mine and whatever service they provide, we can do better. At less cost.’
‘He says, perhaps. But he does not believe China will trade with you. Neither the English nor the Netherlanders are in strength in Asia yet and we need the silks now and a continuing supply.’
‘He’s right, of course. But in a year or two that will change and he’ll have his proof then. So here’s another suggestion. I’m already at war with the Portuguese. Outside the three-mile limit are international waters. Legally, with my present letters of marque, I can take her as a prize and I can sail her to any port and sell her and her cargo. With my ship and a crew it’ll be easy. In a few weeks or months I could deliver the Black Ship and all she contains to Yedo. I could sell her in Yedo. Half the value’ll be his—a port tax.’
‘He says what happens at sea between you and your enemies is of little concern to him. The sea belongs to all. But this land is ours, and here our laws govern and our laws may not be broken.’
‘Yes.’ Blackthorne knew his course was dangerous, but his intuition told him the timing was perfect and that Toranaga would take the bait. And Mariko. ‘It was only a suggestion. He asked me on whom I’d like to war. Please excuse me but sometimes it’s good to plan against any eventuality. In this I believe Lord Toranaga’s interests are mine.’
Mariko translated this. Toranaga grunted and spoke shortly.
‘Lord Toranaga values sensible suggestions, Anjin-san, like your point about a navy, but this is ludicrous. Even if both your interests were the same, which they’re not, how could you and nine men attack such a huge vessel with nearly a thousand persons aboard?’
‘I wouldn’t. I have to get a new crew, Mariko-san. Eighty or ninety men, trained seamen and gunners. I’ll find them at Nagasaki on Portuguese ships.’ Blackthorne pretended not to notice her intake of breath or the way her fan stopped. ‘There’ve got to be a few Frenchies, an Englishman or two if I’m lucky, some Germans or Hollanders—they’ll be renegades mostly, or pressed aboard. I’d need a safe conduct to Nagasaki, some protection, and a little silver or gold. There are always seamen in enemy fleets who’ll sign on for ready cash and a share of prize money.’
‘My Master says anyone in command who’d trust such carrion in an attack would be mad.’
Blackthorne said, ‘I agree. But I have to have a crew to put to sea.’
‘He asks if it would be possible to train samurai and our seamen to be gunners and sailors?’
‘Easily. In time. But that could take months. They’d certainly be ready by next year. There’d be no chance to go against this year’s Black Ship.’
‘Lord Toranaga says, ‘I don’t plan to attack the Black Ship of the Portuguese, this year or next. They’re not my enemies and I am not at war with them.”
‘I know. But I am at war with them. Please excuse me. Of course, this is only a discussion, but I’ll have to get some men to put to sea, to be of service to Lord Toranaga if he wishes.’
They were sitting in Toranaga’s private quarters that overlooked the garden. The fortress had hardly been touched by the quake. The night was humid and airless and the smoke from the coils of incense rose lazily to banish the mosquitoes.
‘My Master wants to know,’ Mariko was saying, ‘if you had your ship now, and the few crew members that arrived with you, would you sail it to Nagasaki to get these further men you require?’
‘No. That would be too dangerous. I’d be so hopelessly undermanned that the Portuguese would capture me. It would be much better to get the men first, bring them back to home waters, to Yedo, neh? Once I’m full-crewed and armed, the enemy’s got nothing in these seas to touch me.’
‘He does not think you and ninety men could take the Black Ship.’
‘I can outsail her and sink her with Erasmus. Of course, Mariko-san, I know this is all conjecture, but if I was permitted to attack my enemy, the moment I was crewed I’d sail on the tide for Nagasaki. If the Black Ship was already in port, I’d show my battle flags and stand out to sea to blockade her. I’d let her finish trading and then, when the wind was ripe for her homeward voyage, I’d pretend to need supplies and let her slip out of port. I’d catch her a few leagues out because we’ve the speed on her and my cannon would do the rest. Once she’s struck her colors I put a prize crew aboard and bring her back to Yedo. She’ll have upwards of three, almost four hundred tons of gold bullion aboard.’
‘But why won’t her captain scuttle his ship once you’ve beaten him, if you beat him, before you can go aboard?’
‘Usually . . .’ Blackthorne was going to say, ‘Usually the crew mutiny if the captain’s a fanatic, but I’ve never known one that mad. Most times you make a deal with the captain—spare their lives, give them a small share and safe berth to the nearest port. But this time I’ll have Rodrigues to deal with and I know him and know what he’ll do.’ But he thought better about that, or about revealing his whole plan. Best to leave barbarian ways to barbarians, he told himself. ‘Usually the defeated ship gives up, Mariko-san,’ he said instead. ‘It’s a custom—one of our customs of war at sea—saving unnecessary loss of life.’
‘Lord Toranaga says, so sorry Anjin-san, that’s a disgusting custom. If he had ships there would be no surrender.’ Mariko sipped some cha, then continued, ‘And if the ship is not yet in port?’
‘Then I sweep the sea lanes to catch her a few leagues out in international waters. She’ll be easier to take heavy laden and wallowing, but harder to bring into Yedo. When’s she expected to dock?’
‘My Lord does not know. Perhaps within thirty days, he says. The ship will be early this year.’
Blackthorne knew he was so near the prize, so very near. ‘Then it’s blockade her and take her at the end of the season.’ She translated and Blackthorne thought he saw disappointment momentarily cross Toranaga’s face. He paused, as though he were considering alternatives, then he said, ‘If this was Europe, there’d be another way. You could sail in by night and take her by force. A surprise attack.’
Toranaga’s grip tightened on his sword hilt.
‘He says you’d dare to war on our land against your enemies?’
Blackthorne’s lips were dry. ‘No. Of course this is still surmise, but if a state of war existed between him and the Portuguese, and Lord Toranaga wanted them hurt, this would be the way to do it. If I had two or three hundred well-disciplined fighters, a good crew, and Erasmus, it would be easy to go alongside the Black Ship and board her, drag her out to sea. He could choose the time of the surprise attack—if this was Europe.’
There was a long silence.
‘Lord Toranaga says, this is not Europe and no state of war exists or will ever exist between him and the Portuguese.’
‘Of course. One last point, Mariko-san: Nagasaki is not within Lord Toranaga’s control, is it?’
‘No, Anjin-san. Lord Harima owns the port and the hinterland.’
‘But don’t the Jesuits in practice control the port and all trade?’ Blackthorne marked her reluctance to translate but kept up the pressure. ‘Isn’t that the honto, Mariko-san? And isn’t Lord Harima Catholic? Isn’t most of Kyushu Catholic? And therefore don’t the Jesuits in some measure control the whole island?’
‘Christianity’s a religion. The daimyos control their own lands, Anjin-san,’ Mariko said for herself.
‘But I was told Nagasaki’s really Portuguese soil. I’m told they act as though it is. Didn’t Lord Harima’s father sell the land to the Jesuits?’
Mariko’s voice sharpened. ‘Yes. But the Taikō took the land back. No foreigner’s allowed to own land here now.’
‘But didn’t the Taikō allow his Edicts to lapse, so today nothing happens there without Jesuit approval? Don’t Jesuits control all shipping in Nagasaki and all trade? Don’t Jesuits negotiate all trade for you and act as intermediaries?’
‘You’re very well informed about Nagasaki, Anjin-san,’ she said pointedly.
‘Perhaps Lord Toranaga should take control of the port from the enemy. Perhaps—’
‘They’re your enemy, Anjin-san, not ours,’ she said, taking the bait at last. ‘The Jesuits are–’
‘Nan ja?‘
She turned apologetically to Toranaga and explained what had been said between them. When she had finished he spoke severely, a clear reprimand. ‘Hai,‘ she said several times and bowed, chastened.
Mariko said, ‘Lord Toranaga reminds me my opinions are valueless and that an interpreter should interpret only, neh? Please excuse me.’
Once Blackthorne would have apologized for trapping her. Now it did not occur to him. But since he had made his point, he laughed and said, ‘Hai, kawaii Tsukkuko-sama!‘ Yes, pretty Lady Interpreter!
Mariko smiled wryly, furious at herself for being trapped, her mind in conflict over her divided loyalties.
‘Yoi, Anjin-san,’ Toranaga said, once more genial.
‘Mariko-san kawaii desu yori Tsukku-san anamsu ka nori masen, neh?‘ And Mariko’s much prettier than old Mr. Tsukku, isn’t she, and so much more fragrant?
Toranaga laughed. ‘Hai.‘
Mariko blushed and poured tea, a little mollified. Then Toranaga spoke. Seriously.
‘Our Master says, why were you asking so many questions—or making statements—about Lord Harima and Nagasaki?’
‘Only to show that the port of Nagasaki is in fact controlled by foreigners. By the Portuguese. And by my law, I have the legal right to attack the enemy anywhere.’
‘But this is not ‘anywhere,’ he says. This is the Land of the Gods and such an attack is unthinkable.’
‘I agree wholeheartedly. But if ever Lord Harima became hostile, or the Jesuits who lead the Portuguese become hostile, this is the way to hunt them.’
‘Lord Toranaga says neither he nor any daimyo would ever permit an attack by one foreign nation on another on Japanese soil, or the killing by them of any of our people. Against enemies of the Emperor, that is a different matter. As to getting fighters and crew, it would be easy for a man to get any number if he spoke Japanese. There are many wako in Kyushu.’
‘Wako, Mariko-san?’
‘Oh, so sorry. We call corsairs ‘wako,‘ Anjin-san. They used to have many lairs around Kyushu but they were mostly stamped out by the Taikō. Survivors can still be found, unfortunately. Wako terrorized the coasts of China for centuries. It was because of them that China closed her ports to us.’ She explained to Toranaga what had been said. He spoke again, more emphatically. ‘He says he will never allow or plan or permit you to make a land attack, though it would be correct for you to harry your Queen’s enemy on the high seas. He repeats, this is not anywhere. This is the Land of the Gods. You should be patient as he told you before.’
‘Yes. I intend to try to be patient in his fashion. I only want to hit the enemy because they are the enemy. I believe with all my heart they’re his enemy too.’
‘Lord Toranaga says the Portuguese tell him you are his enemy, and Tsukku-san and the Visitor-General are absolutely sure of it.’
‘If I were able to capture the Black Ship at sea and bring her as a legal prize into Yedo, under the flag of England, would I be permitted to sell her and all she contains in Yedo, according to our custom?’
‘Lord Toranaga says that depends.’
‘If war comes may I be allowed to attack the enemy, Lord Toranaga’s enemy, in the best way that I can?’
‘He says that is the duty of a hatamoto. A hatamoto is, of course, under his personal orders at all times. My Master wants me to make clear that things in Japan wall never be solved by any method other than by Japanese method.’
‘Yes. I understand completely. With due humility I’d like to point out the more I know about his problems, the more I might be able to help.’
‘He says a hatamoto’s duty is always to help his lord, Anjin-san. He says I am to answer any reasonable questions you have later.’
‘Thank you. May I ask him, would he like to have a navy of his own? As I suggested on the galley?’
‘He has already said he would like a navy, a modern navy, Anjin-san, manned by his own men. What daimyo wouldn’t?’
‘Then say this: If I were lucky enough to take the enemy ship, I’d bring her to Yedo to refit and count the prize. Then I’d transship my half of the bullion to Erasmus and sell the Black Ship back to the Portuguese, or offer her to Toranaga-sama as a gift, or burn her, whatever he wishes. Then I’d sail home. Within a year I’d turn around and bring back four warships, as a gift from the Queen of England to Lord Toranaga.’
‘He asks where would be your profit in this?’
‘The honto is, there would be plenty left over for me, Mariko-san, after the ships were paid for by Her Majesty. Further, I’d like to take one of his most trusted counselors with me as an Ambassador to my Queen. A treaty of friendship between our countries might be of interest to him.’
‘Lord Toranaga says that would be much too generous of your Queen. He adds, but if such a thing miraculously happened and you came back with the new ships, who would train his sailors and samurai and captains to man them?’
‘I will, initially, if that pleases him. I’d be honored, then others could follow.’
‘He says what is ‘initially’?’
‘Two years.’
Toranaga smiled fleetingly.
‘Our Master says two years would not be enough ‘initially.’ However, he adds, it’s all an illusion. He’s not at war with the Portuguese or Lord Harima of Nagasaki. He repeats, what you do outside Japanese waters in your own ship with your own crew is your own karma.‘ Mariko seemed disturbed. ‘Outside our waters you are foreigner, he says. But here you are samurai.’
‘Yes. I know the honor he has done to me. May I ask how a samurai borrows money, Mariko-san?’
‘From a moneylender, Anjin-san. Where else? From a filthy merchant moneylender.’ She translated for Toranaga. ‘Why should you need money?’
‘Are there moneylenders in Yedo?’
‘Oh yes. Moneylenders are everywhere, neh? Isn’t it the same in your country? Ask your consort, Anjin-san, perhaps she would be able to help you. That is part of her duty.’
‘You said we’re leaving for Yedo tomorrow?’
‘Yes, tomorrow.’
‘Unfortunately Fujiko-san won’t be able to travel then.’
Mariko talked with Toranaga.
‘Lord Toranaga says he will send her by galley, when it leaves. He says what do you need to borrow money for?’
‘I’ll have to get a new crew, Mariko-san—to sail anywhere, to serve Lord Toranaga, however he’d wish it. Is that permitted?’
‘A crew from Nagasaki?’
‘Yes.’
‘He will give you an answer when you reach Yedo.’
‘Domo, Toranaga-sama. Mariko-san, when I get to Yedo where do I go? Will there be someone to guide me?’
‘Oh, you must never worry about things like that, Anjin-san. You are one of Lord Toranaga’s hatamoto.’ There was a knock on the inner door.
‘Come in.’
Naga opened the shoji and bowed. ‘Excuse me, Father, but you wanted to be told when all your officers were present.’
‘Thank you, I’ll be there shortly.’ Toranaga thought a moment, then motioned to Blackthorne, his manner friendly. ‘Anjin-san, go with Naga-san. He will show you to your place. Thank you for your views.’
‘Yes, Sire. Thank you for listen. Thank you for your words. Yes. I try hard be patient and perfect.’
‘Thank you, Anjin-san.’ Toranaga watched him bow and go away. When they were alone, he turned to Mariko. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘Two things, Sire. First, his hatred of Jesuits is measureless, even surpassing his loathing of Portuguese, so he is a scourge for you to use against either or both, if you want a scourge. We know he is brave, so he would boldly press home any attack from the sea. Second, money is still his goal. In his defense, from what I’ve learned, money is the only real means the barbarians have to lasting power. They buy lands and position—even their Queen’s a merchant and ‘sells’ land to her lords, and buys ships and lands, probably. They’re not so different from us, Lord, except in that. And also in that they do not understand power, or that war is life and life is death.’
‘Are the Jesuits my enemy?’
‘I do not believe so.’
‘The Portuguese?’
‘I believe they’re concerned only with profits, land, and spreading the word of God.’
‘Are Christians my enemy?’
‘No, Sire. Though some of your enemies may be Christian—Catholic or Protestant.’
‘Ah, you think the Anjin-san’s my enemy?’
‘No, Sire. No, I believe he honors you and, in time, will become a real vassal.’
‘What about our Christians? Who are enemy?’
‘Lords Harima, Kiyama, Onoshi, and any other samurai who turns against you.’
Toranaga laughed. ‘Yes, but do the priests control them, as the Anjin-san implies?’
‘I do not think so.’
‘Will those three go against me?’
‘I don’t know, Sire. In the past, they’ve all been both hostile and friendly to you. But if they side with Ishido it would be very bad.’
‘I agree. Yes. You’re a valued counselor. It’s difficult for you being Catholic Christian, being friends with an enemy, listening to enemy ideas.’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘He trapped you, neh?‘
‘Yes. But in truth he had the right. I was not doing what you had ordered. I was putting myself between his pure thoughts and you. Please accept my apologies.’
‘It will continue to be difficult. Perhaps even more so.’
‘Yes, Sire. But it’s better to know both sides of the coin. Much of what he said has been found to be true—for instance, about the world being split by Spaniards and Portuguese, about the priests smuggling guns—however impossible it is to believe. You need never fear about my loyalty, Sire. However bad it becomes, I will always do my duty to you.’
‘Thank you. Well, it’s been very interesting, what the Anjin-san said, neh? Interesting but nonsense. Yes, thank you, Mariko-san, you’re a valued counselor. Shall I order you divorced from Buntaro?’
‘Sire?’
‘Well?’
Oh to be free, her spirit sang. Oh, Madonna, to be free!
Remember who you are, Mariko, remember what you are. And remember that ‘love’ is a barbarian word.
Toranaga was watching her in the great silence. Outside, mosquitoes strayed into the spirals of incense smoke to dart away to safety. Yes, he brooded, she’s a falcon. But what prey do I cast her against?
‘No, Sire,’ Mariko said at last. ‘Thank you, Sire, but no.’
‘The Anjin-san’s a strange man, neh? His head is filled with dreams. Ridiculous to consider attacking our friends the Portuguese, or their Black Ship. Nonsense to believe what he says about four ships or twenty.’
Mariko hesitated. ‘If he says a navy is possible, Sire, then I believe it’s possible.’
‘I don’t agree,’ Toranaga said emphatically. ‘But you’re right that he’s a balance against the others, him and his fighting ship. How curious—but how illuminating! It’s as Omi said: At the moment we need the barbarians, to learn from them. And there’s much yet to learn, particularly from him, neh?‘
‘Yes.’
‘It’s time to open up the Empire, Mariko-san. Ishido will close it as tight as an oyster. If I were President of the Regents again, I’d make treaties with any nation, so long as it’s friendly. I’d send men to learn from other nations, yes and I’d send ambassadors. This man’s queen would be a good beginning. For a queen perhaps I should send a woman ambassador, if she were clever enough.’
‘She would have to be very strong and very clever, Sire.’
‘Yes. It would be a dangerous journey.’
‘All journeys are dangerous, Sire,’ Mariko said.
‘Yes.’ Again Toranaga switched without warning. ‘If the Anjin-san sailed away with his ship weighed with gold, would he come back? He himself?’
After a long time she said, ‘I don’t know.’
Toranaga decided not to press her now. ‘Thank you, Mariko-san,’ he said in friendly dismissal. ‘I want you to be present at the meeting, to translate what I say for the Anjin-san.’
‘Everything, Sire?’
‘Yes. And tonight when you go to the Tea House to buy Kiku’s contract, take the Anjin-san with you. Tell his consort to make the arrangements. He needs rewarding, neh?‘
‘Hai.‘
When she was at the shoji Toranaga said, ‘Once the issue between Ishido and myself is settled, I will order you divorced.’
Her hand tightened on the screen. She nodded slightly in acknowledgment. But she did not look back. The door closed after her.
Toranaga watched the smoke for a moment, then got up and walked into the garden to the privy and squatted. When he had finished and had used the paper, he heard a servant slide the container away from beneath the hole to replace it with a clean one. The mosquitoes were droning and he slapped them absently. He was thinking of falcons and hawks, knowing that even the greatest falcons make mistakes, as Ishido had made a mistake, and Kiri, and Mariko, and Omi, and even the Anjin-san.
The hundred and fifty officers were aligned in neat rows, Yabu, Omi, and Buntaro in front. Mariko knelt near Blackthorne to the side. Toranaga marched in with his personal guards and sat on the lonely cushion, facing them. He acknowledged their bows, then informed them briefly of the essence of the dispatch and laid before them, for the first time publicly, his ultimate battle plan. Again he withheld the part that related to the secret and carefully planned insurrections, and also the fact that the attack would take the northern and not the southern coastal road. And, to general acclaim—for all his warriors were glad that at last there was an end to uncertainty—he told them that when the rains ceased he would issue the code words ‘Crimson Sky’ which would launch them on their attack. ‘Meanwhile I expect Ishido illegally to convene a new Council of Regents. I expect to be falsely impeached. I expect war to be declared on me, against the law.’ He leaned forward, his left fist characteristically bunched on his thigh, the other tight on his sword. ‘Listen. I uphold the Taikō’s testament and acknowledge my nephew Yaemon as Kwampaku and heir to the Taikō. I desire no other lands. I want no other honors. But if traitors attack me I must defend myself. If traitors dupe His Imperial Highness and attempt to assume power in the land, it is my duty to defend the Emperor and banish evil. Neh?‘
A roar of approval greeted this. Battle cries of ‘Kasigi’ and ‘Toranaga’ poured through the room to be echoed throughout the fortress.
‘The Attack Regiment will be prepared to embark on the galleys for Yedo, Toda Buntaro-san commanding, Kasigi Omi-san second-in-command, within five days. Lord Kasigi Yabu, you will please mobilize Izu and order six thousand men to the frontier passes in case the traitor Ikawa Jikkyu swoops south to cut our lines of communication. When the rains cease, Ishido will attack the Kwanto. . . .’
Omi, Yabu, and Buntaro all silently agreed with Toranaga’s wisdom of withholding information about this afternoon’s decision to launch the attack in the rainy season, at once.
That will create a sensation, Omi told himself, his bowels churning at the thought of warring in the rains through the mountains of Shinano.
‘Our guns will force a way through,’ Yabu had said so enthusiastically this afternoon.
‘Yes,’ Omi had agreed, having no confidence in the plan but no alternative to offer. It’s madness, he told himself, though he was delighted that he had been promoted to second-in-command. I don’t understand how Toranaga can conceive that there’s any chance of success in the northern route.
There isn’t any, he told himself again, and half closed his ears to Toranaga’s stirring exhortation in order to allow himself to concentrate once more on the problem of his revenge. Certainly the attack on Shinano will give you a dozen opportunities to manipulate Yabu into the front line at no risk to yourself. War, any war, will be to your advantage, provided the war’s not lost. . . .
Then he heard Toranaga say, ‘Today I was almost killed. Today the Anjin-san pulled me out of the earth. That’s the second time, perhaps even the third, that he’s saved my life. My life is nothing against the future of my clan, and who is to say whether I would have lived or died without his help? But though it is bushido that vassals should never expect a reward for any service, it is the duty of a liege lord to grant favors from time to time.’
Amid general acclaim, Toranaga said, ‘Anjin-san, sit here! Mariko-san, you as well.’
Jealously Omi watched the towering man rise and kneel at the spot to which Toranaga had motioned, beside him, and there was not a man in the room who did not wish that he himself had had the good fortune to have done what the barbarian had done.
‘The Anjin-san is given a fief near the fishing village of Yokohama to the south of Yedo worth two thousand koku yearly, the right to recruit two hundred samurai retainers, full rights as samurai and hatamoto to the house of Yoshi Toranaga-noh-Chikitada-Minowara. Further, he is to receive ten horses, twenty kimonos, together with full battle equipment for his vassals—the rank of Chief Admiral and Pilot of the Kwanto.’ Toranaga waited until Mariko had translated, then he called out, ‘Naga-san!’
Obediently Naga brought the silk-covered package to Toranaga. Toranaga threw off the cover. There were two matching swords, one short, the other a killing sword. ‘Noticing that the earth had swallowed my swords and that I was unarmed, the Anjin-san went down into the crevasse again to find his own to give to me. Anjin-san, I give these in return. They were made by the master craftsman, Yori-ya. Remember, the sword is the soul of the samurai. If he forgets it, or loses it, he will never be excused.‘
To even greater acclaim and private envy Blackthorne took the swords, bowed correctly, and put them in his sash, then bowed again.
‘Thank you, Toranaga-sama. You do me too much honor. Thank you.’
He began to move away but Toranaga bade him stay. ‘No, sit down here, beside me, Anjin-san.’ Toranaga looked back at the militant, fanatic faces of his officers.
‘Fools!’ he wanted to shout. ‘Don’t you understand that war, whether now or after the rains, would only be disastrous? Any war with Ishido-Ochiba-Yaemon and their present allies must end in slaughter of all my armies, all of you, and the obliteration of me and all my line? Don’t you understand I’ve no chance except to wait and hope that Ishido strangles himself?’
Instead he incited them even more, for it was essential to throw his enemy off balance.
‘Listen, samurai: Soon you’ll be able to prove your valor, man to man, as our forefathers proved theirs. I will destroy Ishido and all his traitors and first will be Ikawa Jikkyu. I hereby give all his lands, both provinces of Suruga and Totomi worth three hundred thousand koku, to my faithful vassal Lord Kasigi Yabu, and, with Izu, confirm him and his line as their overlords.’
A thunderous acclamation. Yabu was flushed with elation.
Omi was banging the floor, shouting just as ecstatically. Now his prize was limitless, for by custom, Yabu’s heir would inherit all his lands.
How to kill Yabu without waiting for war?
Then his eyes fixed on the Anjin-san, who was cheering lustily. Why not let the Anjin-san do it for you, he asked himself, and laughed aloud at the idiotic thought. Buntaro leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder, amiably misinterpreting the laughter as happiness for Yabu. ‘Soon you’ll get the fief you merit, neh?‘ Buntaro shouted over the tumult. ‘You deserve recognition too. Your ideas and counsel are valuable.’
‘Thank you, Buntaro-san.’
‘Don’t worry—We can get through any mountains.’
‘Yes.’ Buntaro was a ferocious battle general and Omi knew they were well matched: Omi the bold strategist, Buntaro the fearless attack leader.
If anyone can get us through the mountains, he can.
There was another burst of cheering as Toranaga ordered saké to be brought, ending the formal meeting.
Omi drank his saké and watched Blackthorne drain another cup, his kimono neat, swords correct, Mariko still talking. You’ve changed very much, Anjin-san, since that first day, he thought contentedly. Many of your alien ideas are still set firm, but you’re almost becoming civilized—
‘What’s the matter, Omi-san?’
‘Nothing—nothing, Buntaro-san . . .’
‘You looked as though an eta had shoved his buttocks in your face.’
‘Nothing like that—not at all! Eeeee, just the opposite. I had the beginnings of an idea. Drink up! Hey, Peach-Blossom, bring more saké, my Lord Buntaro’s cup is empty!’
