Shogun (The Asian Saga Chronology) (143 page)

"Proof, Mariko-san?  Where's the proof?"

"So sorry, I have none.  But Lord Harima's party to the knowledge."

"How do you know this?  How does Harima know?  You say he's part of the plot?"

"No, Father.  Just party to the secret."

"Impossible!  Onoshi's too close-mouthed and much too clever.  If he'd planned that, no one would ever know.  You must be mistaken.  Who gave you this information?"

"I cannot tell you, so sorry, please excuse me.  But I believe it to be true."

Alvito let his mind rush over the possibilities.  And then:  "Uraga!  Uraga was Onoshi's confessor!  Oh, Mother of God, Uraga broke the sanctity of the confessional and told his liege lord. . . ."

"Perhaps this secret's not true, Father.  But I believe it to be true.  Only God knows the real truth,
neh?
"

Mariko had not put her veils aside and Alvito could see nothing of her face.  Above, dawn was spreading over the sky.  He looked seaward.  Now he could see the two ships on the horizon heading southwest, the galley's oars dipping in unison, the wind fair and the sea calm.  His chest hurt and his head echoed with the enormity of what he had been told.  He prayed for help and tried to sort fact from fancy.  In his heart he knew the secrets were true and her reasoning flawless.

"You're saying that Lord Toranaga will outmaneuver Ishido—that he'll win?"

"No, Father.  No one will win, but without your help Lord Toranaga will lose.  Lord Zataki's not to be trusted.  Zataki must always be a major threat to my Lord.  Zataki will know this and that all Toranaga's promises are empty because Toranaga must try to eliminate him eventually.  If I were Zataki I'd destroy Sudara and the Lady Genjiko and all their children the moment they gave themselves into my hands, and at once I'd move against Toranaga's northern defenses.  I'd hurl my legions against the north, which would pull Ishido, Ikawa Jikkyu, and all the others out of their stupid lethargy.  Toranaga can be eaten up too easily, Father."

Alvito waited a moment, then he said, "Lift your veils, Maria."

He saw that her face was stark.  "Why have you told me all this?"

"To save the Anjin-san's life."

"You commit treason for him, Maria?  You, Toda Mariko-noh-Buntaro, daughter of the General Lord Akechi Jinsai, you commit treason because of a foreigner?  You ask me to believe that?"

"No, so sorry, also—also to protect the Church.  First to protect the Church, Father. . . . I don't know what to do.  I thought you might. . . . Lord Toranaga is the Church's only hope.  Perhaps you can somehow help him . . . to protect the Church.  Lord Toranaga must have help now, he's a good and wise man and the Church will prosper with him.  I
know
Ishido's the real enemy."

"Most Christian
daimyos
believe Toranaga will obliterate the Church and the Heir if ever he conquers Ishido and gets power."

"He may, but I doubt it.  He will treat the Church fairly.  He always has.  Ishido is violently anti-Christian.  So is the Lady Ochiba."

"All the great Christians are against Toranaga."

"Ishido's a peasant.  Toranaga-sama is fair and wise and wants trade."

"There has to be trade, whoever rules."

"Lord Toranaga has always been your friend, and if you're honest with him, he always will be with you."  She pointed to the foundations.  "Isn't this a measure of his fairness?  He gave this land freely—even when you failed him and he'd lost everything—even your friendship."

"Perhaps."

"Last, Father, only Toranaga-sama can prevent perpetual war, you must know that.  As a woman I ask that there be no everlasting war."

"Yes, Maria.  He's the only one who could do that, perhaps."

His eyes drifted away from her.  Brother Michael was kneeling, lost in prayer, the two servants nearer the shore, waiting patiently.  The Jesuit felt overwhelmed yet uplifted, exhausted yet filled with strength.  "I'm glad that you have come here and told me this.  I thank thee.  For the Church and for me, a servant of the Church.  I will do everything that I have agreed."

She bowed her head and said nothing.

"Will you carry a dispatch, Mariko-san?  To the Father-Visitor."

"Yes.  If he is at Osaka."

"A private dispatch?"

"Yes."

"The dispatch is verbal.  You will tell him everything you said to me and what I said to you.  Everything."

"Very well."

"I have your promise?  Before God?"

"You have no need to say that to me, Father.  I have agreed."

He looked into her eyes, firm and strong and committed.  "Please excuse me, Maria.  Now let me hear thy confession."

She dropped her veils again.  "Please excuse me, Father, I'm not worthy even to confess."

"Everyone is worthy in the sight of God."

"Except me.  I'm not worthy, Father."

 "You must confess, Maria.  I cannot go on with your Mass—you must come before Him cleansed."

She knelt.  "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned but I can only confess that I am not worthy to confess," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Compassionately Father Alvito put his hand lightly on her head.  "Daughter of God, let me beg God's forgiveness for thy sins.  Let me in His name absolve thee and make thee whole in His sight."  He blessed her, and then he continued her Mass in this imaginary cathedral, under the breaking sky . . . the service more real and more beautiful than it had ever been, for him and for her.

Erasmus
was anchored in the best storm harbor Blackthorne had ever seen, far enough from shore to give her plenty of sea room, yet close enough for safety.  Six fathoms of clear water over a strong seabed were below, and except for the narrow neck of the entrance, high land all around that would keep any fleet snug from the ocean's wrath.

The day's journey from Yedo had been uneventful though tiring.  Half a
ri
northward the galley was moored to a pier near Yokohama fishing village, and now they were alone aboard, Blackthorne and all his men, both Dutch and Japanese.  Yabu and Naga were ashore inspecting the Musket Regiment and he had been told to join them shortly.  Westward the sun was low on the horizon and the red sky promised another fine day tomorrow.

"Why now, Uraga-san?"  Blackthorne was asking from the quarterdeck, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep.  He had just ordered the crew and everyone to stand down, and Uraga had asked him to delay for a moment to find out if there were any Christians among the vassals.  "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No, Sire, so sorry." Uraga was looking up at him in front of the assembled samurai vassals, the Dutch crew gathering into a nervous knot near the quarterdeck railing.  "Please excuse me, but it is most important you find out at once.  You are their most enemy.  Therefore you must know, for your protection.  I only wish to protect you.  Not take long,
neh?
"

"Are they all on deck?"

"Yes, Sire."

Blackthorne went closer to the railing and called out in Japanese, "Is anyone Christian?"  There was no answer.  "I order any Christian come forward."  No one moved.  So he turned back to Uraga.  "Set ten deck guards, then dismiss them."

"With your permission, Anjin-san."  From under his kimono Uraga brought out a small painted icon that he had brought from Yedo and threw it face upward on the deck.  Then, deliberately, he stamped on it.  Blackthorne and the crew were greatly disquieted by the desecration.  Except Jan Roper.  "Please.  Make every vassal do same," Uraga said.

"Why?"

"I know Christians."  Uraga's eyes were half hidden by the brim of his hat.  "Please, Sire.  Important every man do same.  Now, tonight."

"All right," Blackthorne agreed reluctantly.

Uraga turned to the assembled vassals.  "At my suggestion our Master requires each of us to do this."

The samurai were grumbling among themselves and one interrupted, "We've already said that we're not Christians,
neh?
  What does stamping on a barbarian god picture prove?  Nothing!"

"Christians are our Master's enemy.  Christians are treacherous—but Christians are Christian.  Please excuse me, I know Christians—to my shame I forsook our real gods.  So sorry, but I believe this is necessary for our Master's safety."

At once a samurai in front declared, "In that case, there's nothing more to be said."  He came forward and stamped on the picture.  "I worship no barbarian religion!  Come on, the rest of you, do what's asked!"

They came forward one by one.  Blackthorne watched, despising the ceremony.

Van Nekk said worriedly, "Doesn't seem right."

Vinck looked up at the quarterdeck.  "Sodding bastards.  They'll all cut our throats with never a thought.  You sure you can trust 'em, Pilot?"

"Yes."

Ginsel said, "No Catholic'd ever do that, eh, Johann?  That Uraga-sama's clever."

"What's it matter if those buggers're Papist or not, they're all shit-filled samurai."

"Yes," Croocq said.

"Even so, it's not right to do that," van Nekk repeated.

The samurai continued to stamp the icon into the deck one by one, and moved into loose groups.  It was a tedious affair and Blackthorne was sorry he had agreed to it, for there were more important things to do before dusk.  His eyes went to the village and the headlands.  Hundreds of the thatch lean-tos of the Musket Regiment camp spotted the foothills.  So much to do, he thought, anxious to go ashore, wanting to see the land, glorying in the fief Toranaga had given him which contained Yokohama.  Lord God on high, he told himself, I'm lord of one of the greatest harbors in the world.

Abruptly a man bypassed the icon, tore out his sword, and leaped at Blackthorne.  A dozen startled samurai jumped courageously in his way, screening the quarterdeck as Blackthorne spun around, a pistol cocked and aimed.  Others scattered, shoving, stumbling, milling in the uproar.  The samurai skidded to a halt, howling with rage, then changed direction and hacked at Uraga, who somehow managed to avoid the thrust.  The man whirled as other samurai lunged at him, fought them off ferociously for a moment, then rushed for the side and threw himself overboard.

Four who could swim dropped their killing swords, put their short stabbing knives in their mouths, and jumped after him, the rest and the Dutchmen crowding the side.

Blackthorne jumped for the gunwale.  He could see nothing below; then he caught sight of swirling shadows in the water.  A man came up for air and went down again.  Soon four heads surfaced.  Between them was the corpse, a knife in his throat.

"So sorry, Anjin-san, it was his own knife," one called up over the roars of the others.

"Uraga-san, tell them to search him, then leave him to the fish."

The search revealed nothing.  When all were back on deck, Blackthorne pointed at the icon with his cocked pistol.  "All samurai—once more!"  He was obeyed instantly and he made sure that every man passed the test.  Then, because of Uraga, and to praise him, he ordered his crew to do the same.  There was the beginning of a protest.

"Come on," Blackthorne snarled.  "Hurry up, or I'll put my foot on your backs!"

"No need to say that, Pilot," van Nekk said.  "We're not stinky pagan wogs!"

"They're not stinky pagan wogs!  They're samurai, by God!"

They stared up at him.  Anger, whipped by fear, rippled through them.  Van Nekk began to say something but Ginsel butted in.

"Samurai're heathen bastards and they—or men like 'em—murdered Pieterzoon, our Captain-General, and Maetsukker!"

"Yes, but without these samurai we'll never get home—understand?"

Now all the samurai were watching.  Ominously they moved nearer Blackthorne protectively.  Van Nekk said, "Let it rest, eh?  We're all a bit touchy and overtired.  It was a long night.  We're not our own masters here, none of us.  Nor's the Pilot.  The Pilot knows what he's doing—he's the leader, he's Captain-General now."

"Yes, he is.  But it's not right for him to take their side over us, and by the Lord God, he's not a king—we're equal to him," Jan Roper hissed.  "Just because he's armed like them and dressed like them and can talk to the sods doesn't make him king over us.  We've rights and that's our law and his law, by the Lord God, even though he's English.  He swore Holy Oaths to abide by the rules—didn't you, Pilot!"

"Yes," Blackthorne said.  "It's our law in our seas—where we're masters and in the majority.  Now we're not.  So do what I tell you to do and do it fast."

Muttering, they obeyed.

"Sonk!  Did you find any grog?"

"Nosirnotagodcurseddribble!"

"I'll get saké sent aboard."  Then, in Portuguese, Blackthorne added, "Uraga-san, you'll come ashore with me and bring someone to scull.  You four," he said in Japanese, pointing at the men who had dived over the side, "you four now captains.  Understand?  Take fifty men each."

"
Hai
, Anjin-san."

"What's your name?" he asked one of them, a tall, quiet man with a scarred cheek.

"Nawa Chisato, Lord."

"You're captain today.  All ship.  Until I return."

"Yes, Lord."

Blackthorne went to the gangway.  A skiff was tied below.

"Where're you going, Pilot?" van Nekk said anxiously.

"Ashore.  I'll be back later."

"Good, we'll all go!"

"By God I'll come with—"

"And me.  I'm go—"

"Christ Jesus, don't leave me be—"

"No!  I'm going alone!"

"But for God's sake what about us!" van Nekk cried out.  "What are we going to do?  Don't leave us, Pilot.  What are—"

"You just wait!" Blackthorne told them.  "I'll see food and drink's sent aboard."

Ginsel squared up to Blackthorne.  "I thought we were going back tonight.  Why aren't we going back tonight?"

"How long we going to stay here, Pilot, and how long—"

"Pilot, what about Yedo?" Ginsel asked louder.  "How long we going to stay here, with these God-cursed monkeys?"

"Yes, monkeys, by God," Sonk said happily.  "What about our gear and our own folk?"

"Yes, what about our eters, Pilot?  Our people and our doxies?"

"They'll be there tomorrow." Blackthorne pushed down his loathing.  "Be patient, I'll be back as soon as I can.  Baccus, you're in charge."  He turned to go.