Shōgun (The Asian Saga Book 1)

Yoshi Naga, officer of the watch, was a mean-tempered, dangerous youth of seventeen.  ‘Good morning, Sire.  Welcome back.’

‘Thank you.  Lord Toranaga’s expecting me.’

‘Yes.’  Even if Hiro-matsu had not been expected, Naga would still have admitted him.  Toda Hiro-matsu was one of only three persons in the world who were to be allowed into Toranaga’s presence by day or by night, without appointment.

‘Search the barbarian,’ Naga said.  He was Toranaga’s fifth son by one of his consorts, and he worshiped his father.

Blackthorne submitted quietly, realizing what they were doing.  The two samurai were very expert.  Nothing would have escaped them.

Naga motioned to the rest of his men.  They moved aside.  He opened the thick door himself.

Hiro-matsu entered the immense audience room.  Just beyond the doorway he knelt, put his swords on the floor in front of him, placed his hands flat on the floor beside them and bowed his head low, waiting in that abject position.

Naga, ever watchful, indicated to Blackthorne to do the same.

Blackthorne walked in.  The room was forty paces square and ten high, the tatami mats the best quality, four fingers thick and impeccable.  There were two doors in the far wall.  Near the dais, in a niche, was a small earthenware vase with a single spray of cherry blossom and this filled the room with color and fragrance.

Both doors were guarded.  Ten paces from the dais, circling it, were twenty more samurai, seated cross-legged and facing outward.

Toranaga sat on a single cushion on the dais.  He was repairing a broken wing feather of a hooded falcon as delicately as any ivory carver.

Neither he nor anyone in the room had acknowledged Hiro-matsu or paid any attention to Blackthorne as he walked in and stopped beside the old man.  But unlike Hiro-matsu, Blackthorne bowed as Rodrigues had shown him, then, taking a deep breath, he sat crosslegged and stared at Toranaga.

All eyes flashed to Blackthorne.

In the doorway Naga’s hand was on his sword.  Hiro-matsu had already grasped his, though his head was still bent.

Blackthorne felt naked but he had committed himself and now he could only wait.  Rodrigues had said, ‘With Japmen you’ve got to act like a king,’ and though this wasn’t acting like a king, it was more than enough.

Toranaga looked up slowly.

A bead of sweat started at Blackthorne’s temple as everything Rodrigues had told him about samurai seemed to crystalize in this one man.  He felt the sweat trickle down his cheek to his chin.  He willed his blue eyes firm and unblinking, his face calm.

Toranaga’s gaze was equally steady.

Blackthorne felt the almost overwhelming power of the man reach out to him.  He forced himself to count slowly to six, and then he inclined his head and bowed slightly again and formed a small, calm smile.

Toranaga watched him briefly, his face impassive, then looked down and concentrated on his work again.  Tension subsided in the room.

The falcon was a peregrine and she was in her prime.  The handler, a gnarled old samurai, knelt in front of Toranaga and held her as though she were spun glass.  Toranaga cut the broken quill, dipped the tiny bamboo imping needle into the glue and inserted it into the haft of the feather, then delicately slipped the new cut feather over the other end.  He adjusted the angle until it was perfect and bound it with a silken thread.  The tiny bells on her feet jingled, and he gentled the fear out of her.

Yoshi Toranaga, Lord of the Kwanto—the Eight Provinces—head of the clan Yoshi, Chief General of the Armies of the East, President of the Council of Regents, was a short man with a big belly and large nose.  His eyebrows were thick and dark and his mustache and beard gray-flecked and sparse.  Eyes dominated his face.  He was fifty-eight and strong for his age.  His kimono was simple, an ordinary Brown uniform, his sash belt cotton.  But his swords were the best in the world.

‘There, my beauty,’ he said with a lover’s tenderness.  ‘Now you are whole again.’  He caressed the bird with a feather as she sat hooded on the handler’s gauntleted fist.  She shivered and preened herself contentedly.  ‘We’ll fly her within the week.’

The handler bowed and left.

Toranaga turned his eyes on the two men at the door.  ‘Welcome, Iron Fist, I’m pleased to see you,’ he said.  ‘So this is your famous barbarian?’

‘Yes, Lord.’  Hiro-matsu came closer, leaving his swords at the doorway as was custom, but Toranaga insisted he bring them with him.

‘I would feel uncomfortable if you didn’t have them in your hands,’ he said.

Hiro-matsu thanked him.  Even so, he sat five paces away.  By custom, no one armed could safely come closer to Toranaga.  In the front rank of the guards was Usagi, Hiro-matsu’s favorite grand-son-in-law, and he nodded to him briefly.  The youth bowed deeply, honored and pleased to be noticed.  Perhaps I should adopt him formally, Hiro-matsu told himself happily, warmed by the thought of his favorite granddaughter and his first great-grandson that they had presented him with last year.

‘How is your back?’ Toranaga asked solicitously.

‘All right, thank you, Lord.  But I must tell you I’m glad to be off that ship and on land again.’

‘I hear you’ve a new toy here to idle away the hours with, neh?‘

The old man guffawed.  ‘I can only tell you, Lord, the hours weren’t idle.  I haven’t been so hard in years.’

Toranaga laughed with him.  ‘Then we should reward her.  Your health is important to me.  May I send her a token of my thanks?’

‘Ah, Toranaga-sama, you’re so kind.’  Hiro-matsu became serious.  ‘You could reward all of us, Sire, by leaving this hornet’s nest at once, and going back to your castle at Yedo where your vassals can protect you.  Here we’re naked.  Any moment Ishido could—’

‘I will.  As soon as the Council of Regents meeting is concluded.’  Toranaga turned and beckoned the lean-faced Portuguese who was sitting patiently in his shadow.  ‘Will you interpret for me now, my friend?’

‘Certainly, Sire.’  The tonsured priest came forward, with practiced grace kneeled in Japanese style close to the dais, his body as spare as his face, his eyes dark and liquid, an air of serene concentration about him.  He wore tabi socks and a flowing kimono that seemed, on him, to belong.  A rosary and a carved golden cross hung at his belt.  He greeted Hiro-matsu as an equal, then glanced pleasantly at Blackthorne.

‘My name is Martin Alvito of the Society of Jesus, Captain-Pilot.  Lord Toranaga has asked me to interpret for him.’

‘First tell him that we’re enemies and that—’

‘All in good time,’ Father Alvito interrupted smoothly.  Then he added, ‘We can speak Portuguese, Spanish, or, of course, Latin—whichever you prefer.’

Blackthorne had not seen the priest until the man came forward.  The dais had hidden him, and the other samurai.  But he had been expecting him, forewarned by Rodrigues, and loathed what he saw: the easy elegance, the aura of strength and natural power of the Jesuits.  He had assumed the priest would be much older, considering his influential position and the way Rodrigues had talked about him.  But they were practically of an age, he and the Jesuit.  Perhaps the priest was a few years older.

‘Portuguese,’ he said, grimly hoping that this might give him a slight advantage.  ‘You’re Portuguese?’

‘I have that privilege.’

‘You’re younger than I expected.’

‘Senhor Rodrigues is very kind.  He gives me more credit than I deserve.  He described you perfectly.  Also your bravery.’

Blackthorne saw him turn and talk fluently and affably to Toranaga for a while, and this further perturbed him.  Hiro-Matsu alone, of all the men in the room, listened and watched attentively.  The rest stared stonily into space.

‘Now, Captain-Pilot, we will begin.  You will please listen to everything that Lord Toranaga says, without interruption,’ Father Alvito began.  ‘Then you will answer.  From now on I will be translating what you say almost simultaneously, so please answer with great care.’

‘What’s the point?  I don’t trust you!’

Immediately Father Alvito was translating what he had said to Toranaga, who darkened perceptibly.

Be careful, thought Blackthorne, he’s playing you like a fish!  Three golden guineas to a chewed farthing he can land you whenever he wants.  Whether or not he translates accurately, you’ve got to create the correct impression on Toranaga.  This may be the only chance you’ll ever have.

‘You can trust me to translate exactly what you say as best I can.’  The priest’s voice was gentle, in complete command.  ‘This is the court of Lord Toranaga.  I am the official interpreter to the Council of Regents, to General Lord Toranaga and to General Lord Ishido.  Lord Toranaga has favored me with his confidence for many years.  I suggest you answer truthfully because I can assure you he is a most discerning man.  Also I should point out that I am not Father Sebastio, who is, perhaps, overzealous and does not, unfortunately, speak Japanese very well, or, unfortunately, have much experience in Japan.  Your sudden presence took away God’s grace from him and, regrettably, he allowed his personal past to overwhelm him—his parents and brothers and sisters were massacred in the most horrible way in the Netherlands by your—by forces of the Prince of Orange.  I ask your indulgence for him and your compassion.’  He smiled benignly.  ‘The Japanese word for ‘enemy’ is ‘teki.’  You may use it if you wish.  If you point at me and use the word, Lord Toranaga will understand clearly what you mean.  Yes, I am your enemy, Captain-Pilot John Blackthorne.  Completely.  But not your assassin.  That you will do yourself.’

Blackthorne saw him explain to Toranaga what he had said and heard the word ‘teki‘ used several times and he wondered if it truly meant ‘enemy.’  Of course it does, he told himself.  This man’s not like the other one.

‘Please, for a moment, forget that I exist,’ Father Alvito said.  ‘I’m merely an instrument for making your answers known to Lord Toranaga, exactly as I will put his questions to you.’  Father Alvito settled himself, turned to Toranaga, bowed politely.

Toranaga spoke curtly.  The priest began translating simultaneously, a few words or so later, his voice an uncanny mirror of inflection and inner meaning.

‘Why are you an enemy of Tsukku-san, my friend and interpreter, who’s an enemy of no one?’  Father Alvito added by way of explanation, ‘Tsukku-san’s my nickname as Japanese cannot pronounce my name either.  They have no ‘l’ or ‘th’ sounds in their language.  Tsukku’s a pun on the Japanese word ‘tsuyaku‘—to interpret.  Please answer the question.’

‘We’re enemies because our countries are at war.’

‘Oh?  What is your country?’

‘England.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘It’s an island kingdom, a thousand miles north of Portugal.  Portugal’s part of a peninsula in Europe.’

‘How long have you been at war with Portugal?’

‘Ever since Portugal became a vassal state of Spain.  That was in 1580, twenty years ago.  Spain conquered Portugal.  We’re really at war with Spain.  We’ve been at war with Spain for almost thirty years.’

Blackthorne noticed Toranaga’s surprise and his searching glance at Father Alvito, who stared serenely into the distance.

‘You say Portugal’s part of Spain?’

‘Yes, Lord Toranaga.  A vassal state.  Spain conquered Portugal and now they’re in effect the same country with the same king.  But the Portuguese are subservient to Spain in most parts of the world and their leaders treated as unimportant in the Spanish Empire.’

There was a long silence.  Then Toranaga spoke directly to the Jesuit, who smiled and answered at length.

‘What did he say?’ Blackthorne asked sharply.

Father Alvito did not answer but translated as before, almost simultaneously, aping his inflection, continuing a virtuoso performance of interpreting.

Toranaga answered Blackthorne directly, his voice flinty and cruel.  ‘What I said is no concern of yours.  When I wish you to know something I will tell you.’

‘I’m sorry, Lord Toranaga, I did not mean to be rude.  May I tell you that we come in peace—’

‘You may not tell me anything at the moment.  You will hold your tongue until I require an answer.  Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

Mistake number one.  Watch yourself.  You can’t make mistakes, he told himself.

‘Why are you at war with Spain?  And Portugal?’

‘Partially because Spain is bent on conquering the world and we English, and our allies the Netherlands, refuse to be conquered.  And partially because of our religions.’

‘Ah!  A religious war?  What is your religion?’

‘I’m a Christian.  Our Church—’

‘The Portuguese and Spanish are Christians!  You said your religion was different.  What is your religion?’

‘It’s Christian.  It’s difficult to explain simply and quickly, Lord Toranaga.  They’re both—’

‘There’s no need to be quick, Mr. Pilot, just accurate.  I have plenty of time.  I’m very patient.  You’re a cultured man—obviously no peasant—so you can be simple or complicated as you wish, just so long as you’re clear.  If you stray from the point I will bring you back.  You were saying?’

‘My religion is Christian.  There are two main Christian religions, Protestant and Catholic.  Most English are Protestant.’

‘You worship the same God, the Madonna and Child?’

‘No, Sire.  Not the way the Catholics do.’  What does he want to know? Blackthorne was asking himself.  Is he a Catholic?  Should you answer what you think he wants to know, or what you think is the truth?  Is he anti-Christian?  Didn’t he call the Jesuit ‘my friend’?  Is Toranaga a Catholic sympathizer, or is he going to become a Catholic?

‘Do you believe the Jesus is God?’

‘I believe in God,’ he said carefully.

‘Do not evade a direct question!  Do you believe the Jesus is God?  Yes or no?’

Blackthorne knew that in any Catholic court in the world he would have been damned long since for heresy.  And in most, if not all, Protestant courts.  Even to hesitate before answering such a question was an admission of doubt.  Doubt was heresy.  ‘You can’t answer questions about God with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no.’  There have to be shades of ‘yes’ or ‘no.’  You don’t know for certain about God until you’re dead.  Yes, I believe Jesus was God, but no, I don’t know for certain until I’m dead.’

‘Why did you smash the priest’s cross when you first arrived in Japan?’

Blackthorne had not been expecting this question.  Does Toranaga know everything that’s happened since I arrived?  ‘I—I wanted to show the daimyo Yabu that the Jesuit, Father Sebastio—the only interpreter there—that he was my enemy, that he wasn’t to be trusted, at least, in my opinion.  Because I was sure he wouldn’t necessarily translate accurately, not as Father Alvito is doing now.  He accused us of being pirates, for instance.  We’re not pirates, we come in peace.’

‘Ah yes! Pirates.  I’ll come back to piracy in a moment.  You say both your sects are Christian, both venerate Jesus the Christ?  Isn’t the essence of his teaching ‘to love one another’?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then how can you be enemies?’

‘Their faith—their version of Christianity is a false interpretation of the Scriptures.’

‘Ah!  At last we’re getting somewhere.  So you’re at war through a difference of opinion about what is God or not God?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s a very stupid reason to go to war.’

Blackthorne said, ‘I agree.’  He looked at the priest.  ‘I agree with all my heart.’

‘How many ships are in your fleet?’

‘Five.’

‘And you were the senior pilot?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Out to sea,’ Blackthorne said carefully, continuing his lie, presuming that Toranaga had been primed to ask certain questions by Alvito.  ‘We were split up in a storm and scattered.  Where exactly I don’t know, Sire.’

‘Your ships were English?’

‘No, Sire.  Dutch.  From Holland.’

‘Why is an Englishman in charge of Dutch ships?’

‘That’s not unusual, Sire.  We’re allies—Portuguese pilots sometimes lead Spanish ships and fleets.  I understand Portuguese pilots con some of your ocean-going ships by law.’

‘There are no Dutch pilots?’

‘Many, Sire.  But for such a long voyage English are more experienced.’

‘But why you?  Why did they want you to lead their ships?’

‘Probably because my mother was Dutch and I speak the language fluently and I’m experienced.  I was glad of the opportunity.’

‘Why?’

‘This was my first opportunity to sail into these waters.  No English ships were planning to come so far.  This was a chance to circumnavigate.’

‘You yourself, Pilot, you joined the fleet because of your religion and to war against your enemies Spain and Portugal?’

‘I’m a pilot, Sire, first and foremost.  No one English or Dutch has been in these seas before.  We’re primarily a trading fleet, though we’ve letters of marque to attack the enemy in the New World.  We came to Japan to trade.’

‘What are letters of marque?’

‘Legal licenses issued by the Crown—or government—giving authority to war on the enemy.’

‘Ah, and your enemies are here.  Do you plan to war on them here?’

‘We did not know what to expect when we got here, Sire.  We came here only to trade.  Your country’s almost unknown—it’s legend.  The Portuguese and Spanish are very closemouthed about this area.’

‘Answer the question: Your enemies are here.  Do you plan to war on them here?’

‘If they war on me.  Yes.’

Toranaga shifted irritably.  ‘What you do at sea or in your own countries is your own affair.  But here there is one law for all and foreigners are in our land by permission only.  Any public mischief or quarrel is dealt with immediately by death.  Our laws are clear and will be obeyed.  Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Sire.  But we come in peace.  We came here to trade.  Could we discuss trade, Sire?  I need to careen my ship and make repairs—we can pay for everything.  Then there’s the ques—’

‘When I wish to discuss trade or anything else I will tell you.  Meanwhile please confine yourself to answering the questions.  So you joined the expedition to trade, for profit, not because of duty or loyalty?  For money?’

‘Yes. It’s our custom, Sire.  To be paid and to have a share of all plun—of all trade and all enemy goods captured.’

‘So you’re a mercenary?’

‘I was hired as senior pilot to lead the expedition.  Yes.’  Blackthorne could feel Toranaga’s hostility but he did not understand why.  What did I say that was wrong?  Didn’t the priest say I’d assassinate myself?

‘It’s a normal custom with us, Toranaga-sama,’ he said again.

Toranaga started conversing with Hiro-matsu and they exchanged views in obvious agreement.  Blackthorne thought he could see disgust in their faces.  Why?  Obviously it has something to do with ‘mercenary,’ he thought.  What’s wrong with that?  Isn’t everyone paid?  How else do you make enough money to live on?  Even if you’ve inherited land, you still—

‘You said earlier you came here to trade peacefully,’ Toranaga was saying.  ‘Why then do you carry so many guns and so much powder, muskets and shot?’

‘Our Spanish and Portuguese enemies are very powerful and strong, Lord Toranaga.  We have to protect ourselves and—’

‘You’re saying your arms are merely defensive?’

‘No.  We use them not only to protect ourselves but to attack our enemies.  And we produce them in abundance for trade, the best quality arms in the world.  Perhaps we could trade with you in these, or in the other goods we carried.’

‘What is a pirate?’

‘An outlaw.  A man who rapes, kills, or plunders for personal profit.’

‘Isn’t that the same as mercenary?  Isn’t that what you are?  A pirate and the leader of pirates?’

‘No.  The truth is my ships have letters of marque from the legal rulers of Holland authorizing us to carry the war into all seas and places dominated up to now by our enemies.  And to find markets for our goods.  To the Spanish—and most Portuguese—yes, we’re pirates, and religious heretics, but I repeat, the truth is we’re not.’

Father Alvito finished translating, then began to talk quietly but firmly, direct to Toranaga.

I wish to God I could talk as directly, Blackthorne thought, cursing.  Toranaga glanced at Hiro-matsu and the old man put some questions to the Jesuit, who answered lengthily.  Then Toranaga returned to Blackthorne and his voice became even more severe.

‘Tsukku-san says that these ‘Dutchlands’—the Netherlands—were vassals of the Spanish king up to a few years ago.  Is that true?’

‘Yes.’

‘Therefore the Netherlands—your allies—are in a state of rebellion against their lawful king?’

‘They’re fighting against the Spaniard, yes.  But—’

‘Isn’t that rebellion?  Yes or no?’

‘Yes.  But there are mitigating circumstances.  Serious miti—’

‘There are no ‘mitigating circumstances’ when it comes to rebellion against a sovereign lord.’

‘Unless you win.’

Toranaga looked intently at him.  Then laughed uproariously.  He said something to Hiro-matsu through his laughter and Hiro-matsu nodded.

‘Yes, Mister Foreigner with the impossible name, yes.  You named the one mitigating factor.’  Another chuckle, then the humor vanished as suddenly as it had begun.  ‘Will you win?’

‘Hai.‘

Toranaga spoke again but the priest didn’t translate at once.  He was smiling peculiarly, his eyes fixed on Blackthorne.  He sighed and said, ‘You’re very sure?’

‘Is that what he said or what you’re saying?’

‘Lord Toranaga said that.  My—he said that.’

‘Yes.  Tell him yes, I’m very sure.  May I please explain why?’

Father Alvito talked to Toranaga, for much longer than it took to translate that simple question.  Are you as calm as you make out?  Blackthorne wanted to ask him.  What’s the key that’ll unlock you?  How do I destroy you?

Toranaga spoke and took a fan out of his sleeve.

Father Alvito began translating again with the same eerie unfriendliness, heavy with irony.  ‘Yes, Pilot, you may tell me why you think you will win this war.’

Blackthorne tried to remain confident, aware that the priest was dominating him.  ‘We presently rule the seas in Europe—most of the seas in Europe,’ he said, correcting himself.  Don’t get carried away.  Tell the truth.  Twist it a little, just as the Jesuit’s sure to be doing, but tell the truth.  ‘We English smashed two huge Spanish and Portuguese war armadas—invasions—and they’re unlikely to be able to mount any others.  Our small island’s a fortress and we’re safe now.  Our navy dominates the sea.  Our ships are faster, more modern, and better armed.  The Spanish haven’t beaten the Dutch after more than fifty years of terror, Inquisition, and bloodshed.  Our allies are safe and strong and something more—they’re bleeding the Spanish Empire to death.  We’ll win because we own the seas and because the Spanish king, in his vain arrogance, won’t let an alien people free.’

‘You own the seas?  Our seas too?  The ones around our coasts?’

‘No, of course not, Toranaga-sama.  I didn’t mean to sound arrogant.  I meant, of course, European seas, though—’

‘Good, I’m glad that’s clear.  You were saying?  Though . . . ?’

‘Though on all the high seas, we will soon be sweeping the enemy away,’ Blackthorne said clearly.

‘You said ‘the enemy.’  Perhaps we’re your enemies too?  What then?  Will you try to sink our ships and lay waste our shores?’

‘I cannot conceive of being enemy to you.’

‘I can, very easily.  What then?’

‘If you came against my land I would attack you and try to beat you,’ Blackthorne said.

‘And if your ruler orders you to attack us here?’

‘I would advise against it.  Strongly.  Our Queen would listen.  She’s—’

‘You’re ruled by a queen and not a king?’

‘Yes, Lord Toranaga.  Our Queen is wise.  She wouldn’t—couldn’t make such an unwise order.’

‘And if she did?  Or if your legal ruler did?’

‘Then I would commend my soul to God for I would surely die.  One way or another.’

‘Yes.  You would.  You and all your legions.’  Toranaga paused for a moment.  Then: ‘How long did it take you to come here?’

‘Almost two years.  Accurately one year, eleven months, and two days.  An approximate sea distance of four thousand leagues, each of three miles.’

Father Alvito translated, then added a brief elaboration.  Toranaga and Hiro-matsu questioned the priest, and he nodded and replied.  Toranaga used his fan thoughtfully.

‘I converted the time and distance, Captain-Pilot Blackthorne, into their measures,’ the priest said politely.

‘Thank you.’

Toranaga spoke directly again.  ‘How did you get here?  By what route?’

‘By the Pass of Magellan.  If I had my maps and rutters I could show you clearly, but they were stolen—they were removed from my ship with my letters of marque and all my papers.  If you—’

Blackthorne stopped as Toranaga spoke brusquely with Hiro-matsu, who was equally perturbed.

‘You claim all your papers were removed—stolen?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s terrible, if true.  We abhor theft in Nippon—Japan.  The punishment for theft is death.  The matter will be investigated instantly.  It seems incredible that any Japanese would do such a thing, though there are foul bandits and pirates, here and there.’

‘Perhaps they were misplaced,’ Blackthorne said.  ‘And put in safekeeping somewhere.  But they are valuable, Lord Toranaga.  Without my sea charts I would be like a blind man in a maze.  Would you like me to explain my route?’

‘Yes, but later.  First tell me why you came all that distance.’

‘We came to trade, peacefully,’ Blackthorne repeated, holding on to his impatience.  ‘To trade and go home again.  To make you richer and us richer.  And to try—’

‘You richer and us richer?  Which of those is most important?’

‘Both partners must profit, of course, and trade must be fair.  We’re seeking long-term trade; we’ll offer better terms than you get from the Portuguese and Spanish and give better service. Our merchants–’  Blackthorne stopped at the sound of loud voices outside the room.  Hiro-matsu and half the guards were instantly at the doorway and the others moved into a tight knot screening the dais.  The samurai on the inner doors readied as well.

Toranaga had not moved.  He spoke to Father Alvito.

‘You are to come over here, Captain Blackthorne, away from the door,’ Father Alvito said with carefully contained urgency.  ‘If you value your life, don’t move suddenly or say anything.’  He moved slowly to the left inner door and sat down near it.

Blackthorne bowed uneasily to Toranaga, who ignored him, and walked toward the priest cautiously, deeply conscious that from his point of view the interview was a disaster.  ‘What’s going on?’ he whispered as he sat.

The nearby guards stiffened menacingly and the priest said some thing quickly to reassure them.  ‘You’ll be a dead man the next time you speak,’ he said to Blackthorne, and thought, the sooner the better.  With measured slowness, he took a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the sweat off his hands.  It had taken all his training and fortitude to remain calm and genial during the heretic’s interview, which had been worse than even he and the Father-Visitor had expected.

‘You’ll have to be present?’ the Father-Visitor had asked last night.

‘Toranaga has asked me specifically.’

‘I think it’s very dangerous for you and for all of us.  Perhaps you could plead sickness.  If you’re there you’ll have to translate what the pirate says—and from what Father Sebastio writes he’s a devil on earth, as cunning as a Jew.’

‘It’s much better I should be there, Eminence.  At least I’ll be able to intercept Blackthorne’s less obvious lies.’

‘Why has he come here?  Why now, when everything was becoming perfect again?  Do they really have other ships in the Pacific?  Is it possible they’ve sent a fleet against Spanish Manila?  Not that I care one whit for that pestilential city or any of the Spanish colonies in the Philippines, but an enemy fleet in the Pacific!  That would have terrible implications for us here in Asia.  And if he could get Toranaga’s ear, or Ishido’s, or any of the more powerful daimyos—well, it would be enormously difficult, to say the least.’

‘Blackthorne’s a fact.  Fortunately we’re in a position to deal with him.’

‘As God is my judge, if I didn’t know better I’d almost believe the Spaniards—or more probably their misguided lackeys, the Franciscans and Benedictines—deliberately guided him here just to plague us.’

‘Perhaps they did, Eminence.  There’s nothing the monks won’t do to destroy us.  But that’s only jealousy because we’re succeeding where they’re failing.  Surely God will show them the error of their ways!  Perhaps the Englishman will ‘remove’ himself before he does any harm.  His rutters prove him to be what he is.  A pirate and leader of pirates!’

‘Read them to Toranaga, Martin.  The parts where he describes the sacking of the defenseless settlements from Africa to Chile, and the lists of plunder and all the killings.’

‘Perhaps we should wait, Eminence.  We can always produce the rutters.  Let’s hope he’ll damn himself without them.’

Father Alvito wiped the palms of his hands again.  He could feel Blackthorne’s eyes on him.  God have mercy on you, he thought.  For what you’ve said today to Toranaga, your life’s not worth a counterfeit mite, and worse, your soul’s beyond redemption.  You’re crucified, even without the evidence in your rutters.  Should we send them back to Father Sebastio so he can return them to Mura?  What would Toranaga do if the papers were never discovered?  No, that’d be too dangerous for Mura.

The door at the far end shivered open.

‘Lord Ishido wishes to see you, Sire,’ Naga announced.  ‘He’s—he’s here in the corridor and he wishes to see you.  At once, he says.’

‘All of you, go back to your places,’ Toranaga said to his men.  He was instantly obeyed.  But all samurai sat facing the door, Hiro-Matsu at their head, swords eased in their scabbards.  ‘Naga-san, tell Lord Ishido he is always welcome.  Ask him to come in.’

The tall man strode into the room.  Ten of his samurai—Grays—followed, but they remained at the doorway and, at his signal, sat cross-legged.

Toranaga bowed with precise formality and the bow was returned with equal exactitude.

Father Alvito blessed his luck that he was present.  The impending clash between the two rival leaders would completely affect the course of the Empire and the future of Mother Church in Japan, so any clue or direct information that might help the Jesuits to decide where to throw their influence would be of immeasurable importance.  Ishido was Zen Buddhist and fanatically anti-Christian, Toranaga was Zen Buddhist and openly sympathetic.  But most Christian daimyos supported Ishido, fearing—with justification, Father Alvito believed—the ascendence of Toranaga.  The Christian daimyos felt that if Toranaga eliminated Ishido’s influence from the Council of Regents, Toranaga would usurp all power for himself.  And once he had power, they believed he would implement the Taikō’s Expulsion Edicts and stamp out the True Faith.  If, however, Toranaga was eliminated, the succession, a weak succession, would be assured and the Mother Church would prosper.

As the allegiance of the Christian daimyos wavered, so it was with all the other daimyos in the land, and the balance of power between the two leaders fluctuated constantly, so no one knew for certain which side was, in reality, the most powerful.  Even he, Father Alvito, the most informed European in the Empire, could not say for certain which side even the Christian daimyos would actually support when the clash became open, or which faction would prevail.

He watched Toranaga walk off the dais, through the encircling safety of his men.

‘Welcome, Lord Ishido.  Please sit there.’  Toranaga gestured at the single cushion on the dais.  ‘I’d like you to be comfortable.’

‘Thank you, no, Lord Toranaga.’  Ishido Kazunari was lean and swarthy and very tough, a year younger than Toranaga.  They were ancient enemies.  Eighty thousand samurai in and around Osaka Castle did his bidding, for he was Commander of the garrison—and therefore Commander of the Heir’s Bodyguard—Chief General of the Armies of the West, Conqueror of Korea, member of the Council of Regents, and formally Inspector General of all the late Taikō’s armies, which were legally all the armies of all daimyos throughout the realm.

‘Thank you, no,’ he repeated.  ‘I’d be embarrassed to be comfortable while you were not, neh?  One day I will take your cushion, but not today.’

A current of anger went through the Browns at Ishido’s implied threat, but Toranaga replied amiably, ‘You came at a most opportune moment.  I was just finishing interviewing the new barbarian.  Tsukku-san, please tell him to stand up.’

The priest did as he was bidden.  He felt Ishido’s hostility from across the room.  Apart from being anti-Christian, Ishido had always been vigorous in his condemnation of all Europeans and wanted the Empire totally closed to them.

Ishido looked at Blackthorne with pronounced distaste.  ‘I heard he was ugly but I didn’t realize how ugly.  Rumor has it that he’s a pirate.  Is he?’

‘Can you doubt it?  And he’s also a liar.’

‘Then before you crucify him, please let me have him for half a day.  The Heir might be amused to see him with his head on first.’  Ishido laughed roughly.  ‘Or perhaps he should be taught to dance like a bear, then you could exhibit him throughout the Empire: ‘The Freak from the East.’ ‘

Though it was true that Blackthorne had, uniquely, come out of the eastern seas—unlike the Portuguese, who always came from the south and hence were called Southern Barbarians—Ishido was blatantly implying that Toranaga, who dominated the eastern provinces, was the true freak.

But Toranaga merely smiled as though he did not understand.  ‘You’re a man of vast humor, Lord Ishido,’ he said.  ‘But I agree the sooner the barbarian’s removed the better.  He’s long-winded, arrogant, loud-mouthed, an oddity, yes, but one of little value, and with no manners whatsoever.  Naga-san, send some men and put him with the common criminals.  Tsukku-san, tell him to follow them.’

‘Captain-Pilot, you are to follow those men.’

‘Where am I going?’

Father Alvito hesitated.  He was glad that he had won, but his opponent was brave and had an immortal soul which could yet be saved.  ‘You are to be detained,’ he said.

‘For how long?’

‘I don’t know, my son.  Until Lord Toranaga decides.’