Shōgun by James Clavell
“Yes, understand.”
“You need me, Anjin-san. Without me, no barbarian wako. You can’t get them alone. Not from Nagasaki. Never. I can get them—help you get them. Now we fight same side. Toranaga’s side. Same side. Without me, no wako, understand?”
Blackthorne watched the galley ahead for a moment and checked the deck and his seamen. Then he looked down on Yabu. “Yes. Understand.”
“You understand ‘hate’—the word ‘hate’?”
“Yes.”
“Hate comes from fear. I do not fear you. You need not fear me. Never again. I want what you want: your new ships here, you here, captain of new ships. I can help you very much. First the Black Ship … ah yes, Anjin-san,” he said, seeing the joy flood across Blackthorne’s face, “I will persuade Lord Toranaga. You know I’m a fighter, neh? I’ll lead the charge. I’ll take the Black Ship for you on land. Together you and I are stronger than one. Neh?”
“Yes. Possible get more men? More than two hundred my?”
“If you need two thousand men … five thousand! Don’t worry, you lead ship—I’ll lead the fight. Agree?”
“Yes. Fair trade. Thank you. I agree.”
“Good, very good, Anjin-san,” Yabu said contentedly. He knew this mutual partnership would benefit them both however much the barbarian hated him. Again Yuriko’s logic had been flawless.
Earlier that evening he had seen Toranaga and asked permission to go at once to Osaka to prepare the way for him. “Please excuse me but I thought the matter urgent enough. After all, Sire,” Yabu had said deferentially as he and his wife had planned, “you should have someone of rank there to make sure that all your arrangements are perfect. Ishido’s a peasant and doesn’t understand ceremony, neh? The arrangement must be perfect or you should not go, neh? It could take weeks, neh?”
He had been delighted with the ease with which Toranaga had been persuaded. “Then there’s also the barbarian ship, Sire. Better to put it at Yokohama at once in case of tai-fun. I’ll supervise that myself, with your permission, before I go. The Musket Regiment can be its guards, give them something to do. Then I’ll go on directly to Osaka with the galley. By sea’d be better and quicker, neh?”
“Very well, yes, if you think that wise, Yabu-san, do it. But take Naga-san with you. Leave him in charge at Yokohama.”
“Yes, Sire.” Then Yabu had told Toranaga about Tsukku-san’s anger; how, if Lord Toranaga wanted the Anjin-san to live long enough to obtain men at Nagasaki in case Toranaga wanted the ship to put to sea, then perhaps this should be done at once without hesitation. “The priest was very angry—I think angry enough to set his converts against the Anjin-san!”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh yes, Sire. Perhaps I should put the Anjin-san under my protection for the moment.” Then, as though it were a sudden thought, Yabu added, “The simplest thing would be to take the Anjin-san with me. I can start arrangements at Osaka—continue to Nagasaki, get the new barbarians, then complete the arrangements on my return.”
“Do whatever you think fit,” Toranaga had said. “I’ll leave it to you to decide, my friend. What does it matter, neh? What does anything matter?”
Yabu was happy that, at long last, he could act. Only Naga’s presence had not been planned, but that did not matter, and truly, it would be wise to have him at Yokohama.
Yabu was watching the Anjin-san—the tall, arrogant stance, feet slightly apart, swaying so easily with the pitch and toss of the waves, seemingly part of the ship, so huge and strong and different. So different from when ashore. Consciously Yabu began to take up a similar stance, aping him carefully.
‘I want more than the Kwanto, Yuriko-san,’ he had whispered to his wife just before he had left their house. ‘Just one more thing. I want command of the sea. I want to be Lord High Admiral. We’ll put the whole revenue of the Kwanto behind Omi’s plan to escort the barbarian to his home, to buy more ships and bring them back again. Omi will go with him, neh?’
‘Yes,’ she had said, as happily. ‘We can trust him.’
The wharf at Yedo was deserted now. The last of the samurai guards were disappearing into the byways heading back toward the castle. Father Alvito came out of the shadows, Brother Michael beside him. Alvito looked seaward. “May God curse her and all who sail in her.”
“Except one, Father. One of our people sails with the ship. And Naga-san. Naga-san’s sworn to become Christian in the first month of next year.”
“If there ever is a next year for him,” Alvito said, filled with gloom. “I don’t know about Naga, perhaps he means it, perhaps not. That ship’s going to destroy us and there’s nothing we can do.”
“God will help us.”
“Yes, but meanwhile we’re Soldiers of God and we have to help Him. The Father-Visitor must be warned at once, and the Captain-General. Have you found a carrier pigeon for Osaka yet?”
“No, Father, not for any amount of money. Nor even one for Nagasaki. Months ago Toranaga-sama ordered them all into his keeping.”
Alvito’s gloom deepened. “There must be someone with one! Pay anything that’s necessary. The heretic will wound us terribly, Michael.”
“Perhaps not, Father.”
“Why are they moving the ship? Of course for safety, but more to put it out of our reach. Why has Toranaga given the heretic two hundred wako and his bullion back? Of course to use as a strike force, and the specie’s to buy more pirates—gunners and seamen. Why give Blackthorne freedom? To harry us through the Black Ship. God help us, Toranaga’s forsaken us too!”
“We’ve forsaken him, Father.”
“There’s nothing we can do to help him! We’ve tried everything with the daimyos. We’re helpless.”
“Perhaps if we prayed harder, perhaps God would show us a way.”
“I pray and pray, but … perhaps God has forsaken us, Michael, rightly. Perhaps we’re not worthy of His mercy. I know I’m not.”
“Perhaps the Anjin-san won’t find gunners or seamen. Perhaps he’ll never arrive at Nagasaki.”
“His silver will buy him all the men he needs. Even Catholics—even Portuguese. Men foolishly think more about this world than the next. They won’t open their eyes. They sell their souls all too easily. Yes. I pray Blackthorne never arrives there. Or his emissaries. Don’t forget, there’s no need at all for him to go there. The men could be bought and brought to him. Come along, let’s go home now.” Dispiritedly, Alvito led the way toward the Jesuit Mission which was a mile or so westward, near the docks, behind one of the large warehouses that normally housed the season’s silks and rice and formed part of the market complex the Jesuits governed on behalf of buyer and seller.
They walked a while along the shore, then Alvito stopped and looked seaward again. Dawn was breaking. He could see nothing of the ships. “What chance of our message being delivered?” Yesterday, Michael had discovered that one of Blackthorne’s new vassals was a Christian. When the news had flared through the underground network of Yedo last night that something was going to happen with the Anjin-san and his ship, Alvito had hastily scrawled a ciphered message for dell’Aqua, giving all the latest news, and had begged the man to deliver it secretly if ever he reached Osaka.
“The message will arrive.” Brother Michael added quietly, “Our man knows he sails with the enemy.”
“May God watch him and give him strength and curse Uraga.” Alvito looked across at the younger man. “Why? Why did he become apostate?”
“He told you, Father,” Brother Michael said. “He wanted to be a priest—ordained in our Society. That wasn’t much to ask, for a proud servant of God.”
“He was too proud, Brother. God in His wisdom tempted him and found him wanting.”
“Yes. I pray I am not found wanting when my turn comes.”
Alvito wandered past their Mission toward the large plot of land that had been set aside by Toranaga for the cathedral that should soon rise from the earth to the glory of God. The Jesuit could al
But war will destroy that dream, he told himself. War will come again to plague this land and it will be as it ever was.
“Father!” Brother Michael whispered, cautioning him.
A woman was ahead of them, looking at the beginning foundations that already were marked out and partially dug. Beside her were two maids. Alvito waited motionlessly, peering in the half-light. The woman was veiled and richly dressed. Then Brother Michael moved slightly. His foot touched a stone and sent it clattering against an iron shovel, unseen in the gloaming. The woman turned, startled. Alvito recognized her.
“Mariko-san? It’s me—Father Alvito.”
“Father? Oh, I was—I was just coming to see you. I’m leaving shortly but I wanted to talk to you before I left.”
Alvito came up to her. “I’m so glad to see you, Mariko-san. Yes. I heard you were leaving. I tried to see you several times but, at the moment, I’m still forbidden the castle.” Wordlessly, Mariko looked back at the beginnings of the cathedral. Alvito glanced at Brother Michael, who was also bewildered that a lady of such importance would be so scantily attended, wandering here so early and unannounced.
“You’re here just to see me, Mariko-san?”
“Yes. And to see the ship leave.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I wish to be confessed.”
“Then let it be here,” he said. “Let yours be the first in this place though the ground is barely hallowed.”
“Please excuse me, but could you say Mass here, Father?”
“There’s no church or altar or vestments or the Eucharist. I could do that in our chapel if you’ll foll—”
“Could we drink cha from an empty cup, Father? Please,” she asked in a tiny voice. “So sorry to ask. There’s so little time.”
“Yes,” he agreed, at once understanding her.
So he walked to where the altar perhaps would be one day within the magnificent nave, under a vaulting roof. Today, the lightening sky was the roof, and birds and the sound of the surf the majestic choir. He began to chant the solemn beauty of the Mass and Brother Michael helped, and together they brought the Infinite to earth.
But before the giving of the make-believe Sacrament he stopped and said, “Now I must hear thy confession, Maria.” He motioned Brother Michael away and sat on a rock within an imaginary confessional and closed his eyes. She knelt. “Before God, do—”
“Before I begin, Father, I beg a favor.”
“From me or from God, Maria?”
“I beg a favor, before God.”
“What is thy favor?”
“The Anjin-san’s life in return for knowledge.”
“His life is not mine to give or to withhold.”
“Yes. So sorry, but an order could be spread among all Christians that his life is not to be taken as a sacrifice to God.”
“The Anjin-san is the enemy. A terrible enemy of our Faith.”
“Yes. Even so I beg for his life. In return—in return perhaps I can be of great help.”
“How?”
“Is my favor granted, Father? Before God?”
“I cannot grant such a favor. It’s not mine to give or to withhold. You cannot barter with God.”
Mariko hesitated, kneeling on the hard earth before him. Then she bowed and began to get up. “Very well. Then please excuse—”
Alvito said, “I will put the request before the Father-Visitor.”
“That’s not enough, Father, please excuse me.”
“I will put it before him and beg him in God’s name to consider your petition.”
“If what I tell you is very valuable, will you, before God, swear that you will do everything in your power, everything to succor him and guard him, providing it is not directly against the Church?”
“Yes. If it is not against the Church.”
“And, so sorry, you agree to put my request before the Father-Visitor?”
“Before God, yes.”
“Thank you, Father. Listen then….” She told him her reasoning about Toranaga and the hoax.
Suddenly everything was falling into place for Alvito. “You’re right, you must be right! God forgive me, how could I have been so stupid?”
“Please listen again, Father, here are more facts.” She whispered the secrets about Zataki and Onoshi.
“It’s not possible!”
“There’s also a rumor that Lord Onoshi plans to poison Lord Kiyama.”
“Impossible!”
“Please excuse me, very possible. They’re ancient enemies.”
“Who told you all this, Maria?”
“The rumor is that Onoshi will poison Lord Kiyama during the Feast of the Blessed Saint Bernard this year,” Mariko said tiredly, deliberately not answering the question. “Onoshi’s son will be the new lord of all Kiyama’s lands. General Ishido has agreed to this, providing my Master has already gone into the Great Void.”
“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 south-west, 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 c
“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.”