Shōgun by James Clavell
“Tired, Lord, very tired.” The old man went to the side and emptied himself thankfully over the battlements too, but he did not stand where Toranaga and Yabu had stood. He was very glad that he did not also have to seal the bargain with Yabu. That’s one bargain I will never honor. Never.
“Yabu-san. This must all be kept secret. I think you should leave within the next two or three days,” Toranaga said.
“Yes. With the guns and the barbarian, Toranaga-sama?”
“Yes. You will go by ship.” Toranaga looked at Hiro-matsu. “Prepare the galley.”
“The ship is ready. The guns and powder are still in the holds,” Hiro-matsu replied, his face mirroring his disapproval.
“Good.”
You’ve done it, Yabu wanted to shout. You’ve got the guns, the Anjin-san, everything. You’ve got your six months. Toranaga’ll never go to war quickly. Even if Ishido assassinates him in the next few days, you’ve still got everything. Oh, Buddha, protect Toranaga until I’m at sea! “Thank you,” he said, his sincerity openly vast. “You’ll never have a more faithful ally.”
When Yabu was gone, Hiro-matsu wheeled on Toranaga. “That was a bad thing to do. I’m ashamed of that bargain. I’m ashamed that my advice counts for so little. I’ve obviously outlived my usefulness to you and I’m very tired. That little snot-dung daimyo knows he’s manipulated you like a puppet. Why, he even had the effrontery to wear his Murasama sword in your presence.”
“I noticed,” Toranaga said.
“I think the gods have bewitched you, Lord. You openly dismiss such an insult and allow him to gloat in front of you. You openly allow Ishido to shame you in front of all of us. You prevent me and all of us from protecting you. You refuse my granddaughter, a samurai lady, the honor and peace of death. You’ve lost control of the Council, your enemy has outmaneuvered you, and now you piss on a solemn bargain that is as disgusting a plan as I’ve ever heard, and you do this with a man who deals in filth, poison, and treachery like his father before him.” He was shaking with rage. Toranaga did not answer, just stared calmly at him as though he had said nothing. “By all kami, living and dead, you are bewitched.” Hiro-matsu burst out, “I question you—and shout and insult you and you only stare at me! You’ve gone mad or I have. I ask permission to commit seppuku or if you won’t allow me that peace I’ll shave my head and become a monk—anything, anything, but let me be gone.”
“You will do neither. But you will send for the barbarian priest, Tsukku-san.”
And then Toranaga laughed.
CHAPTER 19
Father Alvito rode down the hill from the castle at the head of his usual company of Jesuit outriders. All were dressed as Buddhist priests except for the rosary and crucifix they wore at their waists. There were forty outriders, Japanese, all well-born sons of Christian samurai, students from the seminary at Nagasaki who had accompanied him to Osaka. All were well mounted and caparisoned and as disciplined as the entourage of any daimyo.
He hurried along in a brisk trot, oblivious of the warm sunshine, through the woods and the city streets toward the Jesuit Mission, a large stone European-style house that stood near the wharves and soared from its clustered outbuildings, treasure rooms, and warehouses, where all of Osaka’s silks were bartered and paid for.
The cortege clattered through the tall iron gates set in the high stone walls and into the paved central courtyard and stopped near the main door. Servants were already waiting to help Father Alvito dismount. He slid out of the saddle and threw them the reins. His spurs jingled on the stone as he strode up the cloistered walk of the main building, turned the corner, passed the small chapel, and went through some arches into the innermost courtyard, which contained a fountain and a peaceful garden. The antechamber door was open. He threw off his anxiety, composed himself, and walked in.
“Is he alone?” he asked.
“No, no, he isn’t, Martin,” Father Soldi said. He was a small, benign, pockmarked man from Naples who had been the Father-Visitor’s secretary for almost thirty years, twenty-five of them in Asia. “Captain-General Ferriera’s with his Eminence. Yes, the peacock’s with him. But his Eminence said you were to go in at once. What’s gone wrong, Martin?”
“Nothing.”
Soldi grunted and went back to sharpening his quill. “‘Nothing,’ the wise Father said. Well, I’ll know soon enough.”
“Yes,” Alvito said, liking the older man. He walked for the far door. A wood fire was burning in a grate, illuminating the fine heavy furniture, dark with age and rich with polish and care. A small Tintoretto of a Madonna and Child that the Father-Visitor had brought with him from Rome, which always pleased Alvito, hung over the fireplace.
“You saw the Ingeles again?” Father Soldi called after him.
Alvito did not answer. He knocked at the door.
“Come in.”
Carlo dell’Aqua, Father-Visitor of Asia, personal representative of the General of the Jesuits, the most senior Jesuit and thus the most powerful man in Asia, was also the tallest. He stood six feet three inches, with a physique to match. His robe was orange, his cross exquisite. He was tonsured, white-haired, sixty-one years old, and by birth a Neapolitan.
“Ah, Martin, come in, come in. Some wine?” he said, speaking Portuguese with a marvelous Italian liquidity. “You saw the Ingeles?”
“No, your Eminence. Just Toranaga.”
“Bad?”
“Yes.”
“Some wine?”
“Thank you.”
“How bad?” Ferriera asked. The soldier sat beside the fire in the high-backed leather chair as proudly as a falcon and as colorful—the fidaglio, the Captain-General of the Nao del Trato, this year’s Black Ship. He was in his middle thirties, lean, slight, and formidable.
“I think very bad, Captain-General. For instance, Toranaga said the matter of this year’s trade could wait.”
“Obviously trade can’t wait, nor can I,” Ferriera said. “I’m sailing on the tide.”
“You don’t have your port clearances. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”
“I thought everything was arranged months ago.” Again Ferriera cursed the Japanese regulations that required all shipping, even their own, to have incoming and outgoing licenses. “We shouldn’t be bound by stupid native regulations. You said this meeting was just a formality—to collect the documents.”
“It should have been, but I was wrong. Perhaps I’d better explain—”
“I must return to Macao immediately to prepare the Black Ship. We’ve already purchased a million ducats’ worth of the best silks at February’s Canton Fair and we’ll be carrying at least a hundred thousand ounces of Chinese gold. I thought I’d made it clear that every penny of cash in Macao, Malacca, and Goa, and every penny the Macao traders and city fathers can borrow is invested in this year’s venture. And every penny of yours.”
“We’re just as aware as you are of its importance,” dell’Aqua said pointedly.
“I’m sorry, Captain-General, but Toranaga’s President of the Regents and it’s the custom to go to him,” Alvito said. “He wouldn’t discuss this year’s trade or your clearances. He said, initially, he did not approve of assassination.”
“Who does, Father?” Ferriera said.
“What’s Toranaga talking about, Martin?” dell’Aqua asked. “Is this some sort of ruse? Assassination? What has that to do with us?”
“He said: ‘Why would you Christians want to assassinate my prisoner, the pilot?’”
“What?”
“Toranaga believes the attempt last night was on the Ingeles, not him. Also he says there was another attempt in prison.” Alvito kept his eyes fixed on the soldier.
“What do you accuse me of, Father?” Ferriera said. “An assassination attempt? Me? In Osaka Castle? This is the first time I’ve ever been in Japan!”
“You deny any knowledge of it?”
“I do not deny that the sooner the heretic’s dead the better,” Ferriera
“We’re already in trouble,” Alvito said. “Toranaga began by saying that he understands from the Ingeles that incredible profits are being made from the Portuguese monopoly of the China trade, that the Portuguese are extravagantly overpricing the silks that only the Portuguese can buy in China, paying for them with the sole commodity the Chinese will accept in exchange, Japanese silver—which again the Portuguese are equally ludicrously underpricing. Toranaga said: ‘Because hostility exists between China and Japan and all direct trade between us is forbidden and the Portuguese alone have their permission to carry the trade, the pilot’s charge of “usury” should be formally replied to—in writing—by the Portuguese.’ He ‘invites’ you, Eminence, to provide the Regents with a report on rates of exchange—silver to silk, silk to silver, gold to silver. He added that he does not, of course, object to our making a large profit, providing it comes from the Chinese.”
“You will, of course, refuse such an arrogant request,” Ferriera said.
“That is very difficult.”
“Then provide a false report.”
“That would endanger our whole position, which is based on trust,” dell’Aqua said.
“Can you trust a Jappo? Of course not. Our profits must remain secret. That God-cursed heretic!”
“I’m sorry to tell you Blackthorne seems to be particularly well informed.” Alvito looked involuntarily at dell’Aqua, his guard dropping momentarily.
The Father-Visitor said nothing.
“What else did the Jappo say?” Ferriera asked, pretending that he had not seen the look between them, wishing he knew the full extent of their knowledge.
“Toranaga asks me to provide him, by tomorrow noon, with a map of the world showing the lines of demarcation between Portugal and Spain, the names of the Popes who approved the treaties, and their dates. Within three days he ‘requests’ a written explanation of our ‘conquests’ in the New World, and ‘purely for my own interest’ were his exact words, the amount of gold and silver taken back—he actually used Blackthorne’s word ‘plundered’—taken back to Spain and Portugal from the New World. And he also requests another map showing the extent of the Empires of Spain and Portugal a hundred years ago, fifty years ago, and today, together with exact positions of our bases from Malacca to Goa—he named them all accurately by the way; they were written on a piece of paper—and also the numbers of Japanese mercenaries employed by us at each of our bases.”
Dell’Aqua and Ferriera were appalled. “This must absolutely be refused,” the soldier boomed.
“You can’t refuse Toranaga,” dell’Aqua said.
“I think, your Eminence, you put too much reliance on his importance,” Ferriera said. “It seems to me that this Toranaga’s just another despot king among many, just another murdering heathen, certainly not to be feared. Refuse him. Without our Black Ship their whole economy collapses. They’re begging for our Chinese silks. Without silks there’d be no kimonos. They must have our trade. I say the pox on Toranaga. We can trade with the Christian kings—what were their names? Onoshi and Kiyama—and the other Christian kings of Kyushu. After all, Nagasaki’s there, we’re there in strength, all trade’s done there.”
“We can’t, Captain,” dell’Aqua said. “This is your first visit to Japan so you’ve no idea of our problems here. Yes, they need us, but we need them more. Without Toranaga’s favor—and Ishido’s—we’ll lose influence over the Christian kings. We’ll lose Nagasaki and everything we’ve built over fifty years. Did you precipitate the attempt on this heretic pilot?”
“I said openly to Rodrigues, and to anyone else who would listen from the very first, that the Ingeles was a dangerous pirate who would infect anyone he came into contact with, and who therefore should be removed in any way possible. You said the same in different words, your Eminence. So did you, Father Alvito. Didn’t the matter come up at our conference with Onoshi and Kiyama two days ago? Didn’t you say this pirate was dangerous?”
“Yes. But—”
“Father, you will forgive me, but sometimes it is necessary for soldiers to do God’s work in the best way they can. I must tell you I was furious with Rodrigues for not creating an ‘accident’ during the storm. He, of all people, should have known better! By the Body of Christ, look what that devil Ingeles has already done to Rodrigues himself. The poor fool’s grateful to him for saving his life when it’s the most obvious trick in the world to gain his confidence. Wasn’t Rodrigues fooled into allowing the heretic pilot to usurp his own quarterdeck, certainly almost causing his death? As to the castle attempt, who knows what happened? That has to have been ordered by a native, that’s a Jappo trick. I’m not sad they tried, only disgusted that they failed. When I arrange for his removal, you may rest assured he will be removed.”
Alvito sipped his wine. “Toranaga said that he was sending Blackthorne to Izu.”
“The peninsula to the east?” Ferriera asked.
“Yes.”
“By land or by ship?”
“By ship.”
“Good. Then I regret to tell you that all hands may be lost at sea in a regrettable storm.”
Alvito said coldly, “And I regret to tell you, Captain-General, that Toranaga said—I’ll give you his exact words: ‘I am putting a personal guard around the pilot, Tsukku-san, and if any accident befalls him it will be investigated to the limit of my power and the power of the Regents, and if, by chance, a Christian is responsible, or anyone remotely associated with Christians, it’s quite possible the Expulsion Edicts would be reexamined and very possible that all Christian churches, schools, places of rest, will be immediately closed.’”
Dell’Aqua said, “God forbid that should happen.”
“Bluff,” Ferriera sneered.
“No, you’re wrong, Captain-General. Toranaga’s as clever as a Machiavelli and as ruthless as Attila the Hun.” Alvito looked back at dell’Aqua. “It would be easy to blame us if anything happened to the Ingeles.”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you should go to the source of your problem,” Ferriera said bluntly. “Remove Toranaga.”
“This is no time for jokes,” the Father-Visitor said.
“What has worked brilliantly in India and Malaya, Brazil, Peru, Mexico, Africa, the Main and elsewhere will work here. I’ve done it myself in Malacca and Goa a dozen times with the help of Jappo mercenaries, and I’ve nowhere near your influence and knowledge. We use the Christian kings. We’ll help one of them to remove Toranaga if he’s the problem. A few hundred conquistadores would be enough. Divide and rule. I’ll approach Kiyama. Father Alvito, if you’ll interpret—”
“You cannot equate Japanese with Indians or with illiterate savages like the Incas. You cannot divide and rule here. Japan is not like any other nation. Not at all,” dell’Aqua said wearily. “I must ask you formally, Captain-General, not to interfere in the internal politics of this country.”
“I agree. Please forget what I said. It was indelicate and naive to be so open. Fortunately storms are normal at this time of the year.”
“If a storm occurs, that is in the Hand of God. But you will not attack the pilot.”
“Oh?”
“No. Nor will you order anyone to do it.”
“I am bound by my king to destroy the enemies of my king. The Ingeles is an enemy national. A parasite, a pirate, a heretic. If I choose to eliminate him, that is my affair. I am Captain-General of the Black Ship this year, therefore Governor of Macao this year, with viceregal powers over these waters this year, and if I want to eliminate him, or Toranaga or whomever, I will.”
“Then you do so over my direct orders to the contrary and thereby risk immediate excommunication.”
“This is beyond your jurisdiction. It is a temporal matter, not a spiritual one.”
“The position of the Church here is, regrettably, so intermixed with politics and wi
“Thank you for being so explicit, your Eminence. I will make it my business to become more knowledgeable about Jappo affairs.”
“I suggest you do, for all our sakes. Christianity is tolerated here only because all daimyos believe absolutely that if they expel us and stamp out the Faith, the Black Ships will never come back. We Jesuits are sought after and have some measure of influence only because we alone can speak Japanese and Portuguese and can interpret and intercede for them on matters of trade. Unfortunately for the Faith, what they believe is not true. I’m certain trade would continue, irrespective of our position and the position of the Church, because Portuguese traders are more concerned with their own selfish interests than with the service of our Lord.”
“Perhaps the selfish interests of the clerics who wish to force us—even to the extent of asking His Holiness for the legal powers—to force us to sail into whatever port they decide and trade with whatever daimyo they prefer, irrespective of the hazards, is equally evident!”
“You forget yourself, Captain-General!”
“I do not forget that the Black Ship of last year was lost between here and Malacca with all hands, with over two hundred tons of gold aboard and five hundred thousand crusados worth of silver bullion, after being delayed unnecessarily into the bad weather season because of your personal requests. Or that this catastrophe almost ruined everyone from here to Goa.”
“It was necessary because of the Taikō’s death and the internal politics of the succession.”
“I do not forget you asked the Viceroy of Goa to cancel the Black Ship three years ago, to send it only when you said, to which port you decided, or that he overruled this as an arrogant interference.”