Shōgun (The Asian Saga Book 1)

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 FatherVisitor’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 said coldly.  ‘If the Dutch and English start spreading their filth in Asia we’re in for trouble.  All of us.’

‘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 vice-regal 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 with the silk trade, that everything touches the safety of the Church.  And while I live, by my hope of salvation, no one will jeopardize the future of the Mother Church here!’

‘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.’

‘That was to curb the Taikō, to bring him an economic crisis in the midst of his stupid war on Korea and China, because of the Nagasaki martyrdoms he had ordered, because of his insane attack on the Church and the Expulsion Edicts he had just published expelling us all from Japan.  If you cooperate with us, follow our advice, all Japan would be Christian in a single generation!  What is more important—trade or the salvation of souls?’

‘My answer is souls.  But since you’ve enlightened me on Jappo affairs let me put Jappo affairs in their correct perspective.  Jappo silver alone unlocks Chinese silks and Chinese gold.  The immense profits we make and export to Malacca and Goa and thence to Lisbon support our whole Asian Empire, all forts, all missions, all expeditions, all missionaries, all discoveries, and pays for most, if not all of our European commitments, prevents the heretics from overrunning us and keeps them out of Asia, which would provide them with all the wealth they need to destroy us and the Faith at home.  What’s more important, Father—Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian Christendom, or Jappo Christendom?’

Dell’Aqua glared down at the soldier.  ‘Once and for all, you-will-not-involve-yourself-with-the-internal-politics-here!’

A coal fell from the fire and spluttered on the rug.  Ferriera, the nearest, kicked it to safety.  ‘And if I’m to be—to be curbed, what do you propose to do about the heretic?  Or Toranaga?’

Dell’Aqua sat down, believing that he had won.  ‘I don’t know, at the moment.  But even to think of removing Toranaga is ludicrous.  He’s very sympathetic to us, and very sympathetic to increasing trade’—his voice became more withering—’and therefore to increasing your profits.’

‘And your profits,’ Ferriera said, taking the bit again.

‘Our profits are committed to the work of Our Lord.  As you well know.’  Dell’Aqua tiredly poured some wine, offered it, placating him.  ‘Come now, Ferriera, let’s not quarrel in this fashion.  This business of the heretic—terrible, yes.  But quarreling avails nothing.  We need your counsel and your brains and your strength.  You can believe me, Toranaga is vital to us.  Without him to restrain the other Regents, this whole country will go back to anarchy again.’

‘Yes, it’s true, Captain-General,’ Alvito said.  ‘But I don’t understand why he’s still in the castle and has agreed to a delay in the meeting.  It’s incredible that he seems to have been outmaneuvered.  He must surely know that Osaka’s locked tighter than a jealous crusader’s chastity belt.  He should have left days ago.’

Ferriera said, ‘If he’s vital, why support Onoshi and Kiyama?  Haven’t those two sided with Ishido against him?  Why don’t you advise them against it?  It was discussed only two days ago.’

‘They told us of their decision, Captain.  We did not discuss it.’

‘Then perhaps you should have, Eminence.  If it’s so important, why not order them against it?  With a threat of excommunication.’

Dell’Aqua sighed.  ‘I wish it were so simple.  You don’t do things like that in Japan.  They abhor outside interference in their internal affairs.  Even a suggestion on our part has to be offered with extreme delicacy.’

 Ferriera drained his silver goblet and poured some more wine and calmed himself, knowing that he needed the Jesuits on his side, that without them as interpreters he was helpless.  You’ve got to make this voyage successful, he told himself.  You’ve soldiered and sweated eleven years in the service of the King to earn, rightfully—twenty times over—the richest prize in his power to give, the Captain-Generalship of the annual Black Ship for one year and the tenth part that goes with the honor, a tenth of all silk, of all gold, of all silver, and of all profit from each transaction.  You’re rich for life now, for thirty lifetimes if you had them, all from this one single voyage.  If you accomplish it.

Ferriera’s hand went to the haft of his rapier, to the silver cross that formed part of the silver filigree.  ‘By the Blood of Christ, my Black Ship will sail on time from Macao to Nagasaki and then, the richest treasure ship in history, she’ll head south with the monsoon in November for Goa and thence home!  As Christ is my judge, that’s what’s going to happen.’  And he added silently, if I have to burn all Japan and all Macao and all China to do it, by the Madonna!’

‘Our prayers are with you, of course they are,’ dell’Aqua replied, meaning it.  ‘We know the importance of your voyage.’

‘Then what do you suggest?  Without port clearances and safe conducts to trade, I’m hamstrung.  Can’t we avoid the Regents?  Perhaps there’s another way?’

Dell’Aqua shook his head.  ‘Martin?  You’re our trade expert.’

‘I’m sorry, but it’s not possible,’ Alvito said.  He had listened to the heated exchange with simmering indignation.  Foul-mannered, arrogant, motherless cretin, he had thought, then immediately, oh, God, give me patience, for without this man and others like him, the Church dies here.  ‘I’m sure within a day or two, Captain-General, everything will be sealed.  A week at the most.  Toranaga has very special problems at the moment.  It will be all right, I’m sure.’

‘I’ll wait a week.  No more.’  The undercurrent of menace in Ferriera’s tone was frightening.  ‘I’d like to get my hands on that heretic.  I’d rack the truth out of him.  Did Toranaga say anything about the supposed fleet?  An enemy fleet?’

‘No.’

‘I’d like to know that truth, because inbound, my ship will be wallowing like a fat pig, her holds bulging with more silks than have ever been sent at one time.  We’re one of the biggest ships in the world but I’ve no escort, so if a single enemy frigate were to catch us at sea—that Dutch whore, the Erasmus—we’d be at her mercy.  She’d make me haul down the Imperial flag of Portugal with no trouble at all.  The Ingeles had better not get his ship to sea, with gunners and cannon and shot aboard.’

‘E vero, e solamente vero,‘ dell’Aqua muttered.

Ferriera finished his wine.  ‘When’s Blackthorne being sent to Izu?’

‘Toranaga didn’t say,’ Alvito replied.  ‘I got the impression it would be soon.’

‘Today?’

‘I don’t know.  Now the Regents meet in four days.  I would imagine it would be after that.’

Dell’Aqua said heavily, ‘Blackthorne must not be interfered with.  Neither he nor Toranaga.’

Ferriera stood up.  ‘I’ll be getting back to my ship.  You’ll dine with us?  Both of you?  At dusk?  There’s a fine capon, a joint of beef and Madeira wine, even some new bread.’

‘Thank you, you’re very kind.’ Dell’Aqua brightened slightly.  ‘Yes, some good food again would be wonderful.  You’re very kind.’

‘You’ll be informed the instant I have word from Toranaga, Captain-General,’ Alvito said.

‘Thank you.’

When Ferriera had gone and the Visitor was sure that he and Alvito could not be overheard, he said anxiously, ‘Martin, what else did Toranaga say?’

‘He wants an explanation, in writing, of the gun-running incident, and the request for conquistadores.’

‘Mamma mia . . . ‘

‘Toranaga was friendly, even gentle, but—well, I’ve never seen him like this before.’

‘What exactly did he say?’

”I understand, Tsukku-san, that the previous head of your order of Christians, Father da Cunha, wrote to the governors of Macao, Goa, and the Spanish Viceroy in Manila, Don Sisco y Vivera, in July of 1588 of your counting, asking for an invasion of hundreds of Spanish soldiers with guns to support some Christian daimyos in a rebellion which the chief Christian priest was trying to incite against their lawful liege lord, my late master, the Taikō.  What were the names of these daimyos?  Is it true that no soldiers were sent but vast numbers of guns were smuggled into Nagasaki under your Christian seal from Macao?  Is it true that the Father-Giant secretly seized these guns when he returned to Japan for the second time, as Ambassador from Goa, in March or April 1590, by your counting, and secretly smuggled them out of Nagasaki on the Portuguese ship, the Santa Cruz, back to Macao?”  Alvito wiped the sweat off his hands.

‘Did he say anything more?’

‘Not of importance, Eminence.  I had no chance to explain—he dismissed me at once.  The dismissal was polite but it was still a dismissal.’

‘Where is that cursed Englishman getting his information from?’

‘I wish I knew.’

‘Those dates and names.  You’re not mistaken?  He said them exactly like that?’

‘No, Eminence.  The names were written on a piece of paper.  He showed it to me.’

‘Blackthorne’s writing?’

‘No.  The names were written phonetically in Japanese, in hiragana.‘

‘We’ve got to find out who’s interpreting for Toranaga.  He must be astonishingly good.  Surely not one of ours?  It can’t be Brother Manuel, can it?’ he asked bitterly, using Masamanu Jiro’s baptismal name.  Jiro was the son of a Christian samurai who had been educated by the Jesuits since childhood and, being intelligent and devout, had been selected to enter the seminary to be trained to be a full priest of the four vows, of which there were none from the Japanese yet.  Jiro had been with the Society for twenty years, then, incredibly, he left before being ordained and he was now a violent antagonist of the Church.

‘No.  Manuel’s still in Kyushu, may he burn in hell forever.  He’s still a violent enemy of Toranaga’s, he’d never help him.  Fortunately, he was never party to any political secrets.  The interpreter was the Lady Maria,’ Alvito said, using Toda Mariko’s baptismal name.

‘Toranaga told you that?’

‘No, your Eminence.  But I happen to know that she’s been visiting the castle, and she was seen with the Ingeles.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Our information is completely accurate.’

‘Good,’ dell’Aqua said.  ‘Perhaps God is helping us in His inscrutable fashion.  Send for her at once.’

‘I’ve already seen her.  I made it my business to meet her by chance.  She was delightful as always, deferential, pious as always, but she said pointedly before I had an opportunity to question her, ‘Of course, the Empire is a very private land, Father, and some things, by custom, have to stay very private.  Is it the same in Portugal, and within the Society of Jesus?”

‘You’re her confessor.’

‘Yes.  But she won’t say anything.’

‘Why?’

‘Clearly she’s been forewarned and forbidden to discuss what happened and what was said.  I know them too well.  In this, Toranaga’s influence would be greater than ours.’

‘Is her faith so small?  Has our training of her been so inept?  Surely not.  She’s as devout and as good a Christian as any woman I’ve ever met.  One day she’ll become a nun—perhaps even the first Japanese abbess.’

‘Yes.  But she will say nothing now.’

‘The Church is in jeopardy.  This is important, perhaps too important,’ dell’Aqua said.  ‘She would understand that.  She’s far too intelligent not to realize it.’

‘I beg you, do not put her faith to the test in this.  We must lose.  She warned me.  That’s what she was saying as clearly as if it were written down.’

‘Perhaps it would be good to put her to the test.  For her own salvation.’

‘That’s up to you to order or not to order.  But I’m afraid that she must obey Toranaga, Eminence, and not us.’

‘I will think about Maria.  Yes,’ dell’Aqua said.  He let his eyes drift to the fire, the weight of his office crushing him.  Poor Maria.  That cursed heretic!  How do we avoid the trap?  How do we conceal the truth about the guns?  How could a Father Superior and Vice-Provincial like da Cunha, who was so well trained, so experienced, with seven years’ practical knowledge in Macao and Japan—how could he make such a hideous mistake?

‘How?’ he asked the flames.

I can answer, he told himself. It’s too easy.  You panic or you forget the glory of God or become pride-filled or arrogant or petrified.  Who wouldn’t have, perhaps, under the same circumstances?  To be received by the Taikō at sunset with favor, a triumphal meeting with pomp and ceremony—almost like an act of contrition by the Taikō, who was seemingly on the point of converting.  And then to be awakened in the middle of the same night with the Taikō’s Expulsion Edicts decreeing that all religious orders were to be out of Japan within twenty days on pain of death, never to return, and worse, that all Japanese converts throughout the land were ordered to recant at once or they would immediately be exiled or put to death.

Driven to despair, the Superior had wildly advised the Kyushu Christian daimyos—Onoshi, Misaki, Kiyama and Harima of Nagasaki among them—to rebel to save the Church and had written frantically for conquistadores to stiffen the revolt.

The fire spluttered and danced in the iron grate.  Yes, all true, dell’Aqua thought.  If only I’d known, if only da Cunha had consulted me first.  But how could he?  It takes six months to send a letter to Goa and perhaps another six months for one to return and da Cunha did write immediately but he was the Superior and on his own and had to cope at once with the disaster.

Though dell’Aqua had sailed immediately on receiving the letter, with hastily arranged credentials as Ambassador from the Viceroy of Goa, it had taken months to arrive at Macao, only to learn that da Cunha was dead, and that he and all Fathers were forbidden to enter Japan on pain of death.

But the guns had already gone.

Then, after ten weeks, came the news that the Church was not obliterated in Japan, that the Taikō was not enforcing his new laws.  Only half a hundred churches had been burned.  Only Takayama had been smashed.  And word seeped back that though the Edicts would remain officially in force, the Taikō was now prepared to allow things to be as they were, provided that the Fathers were much more discreet in their conversions, their converts more discreet and well behaved, and that there were no more blatant public worship or demonstrations and no burning of Buddhist churches by zealots.

Then, when the ordeal seemed at an end, dell’Aqua had remembered that the guns had gone weeks before, under Father Superior da Cunha’s seal, that they still lay in the Jesuit Nagasaki warehouses.

More weeks of agony ensued until the guns were secretly smuggled back to Macao—yes, under my seal this time, dell’Aqua reminded himself, hopefully the secret buried forever.  But those secrets never leave you in peace, however much you wish or pray.

How much does the heretic know?

For more than an hour his Eminence sat motionless in his highbacked leather chair, staring sightlessly at the fire.  Alvito waited patiently near the bookcase, his hands in his lap.  Shafted sunlight danced off the silver crucifix on the wall behind the Father-Visitor.  On one side wall was a small oil by the Venetian painter Titian that dell’Aqua had bought in his youth in Padua, where he had been sent by his father to study law.  The other wall was lined with his Bibles and his books, in Latin, Portuguese, Italian, and Spanish.  And, from the Society’s own movable-type press at Nagasaki that he had ordered and brought at so much cost from Goa ten years ago, two shelves of Japanese books and pamphlets: devotional books and catechisms of all sorts, translated with painstaking labor into Japanese by Jesuits; works adapted from Japanese into Latin to try to help Japanese acolytes learn that language; and last, two small books that were beyond price, the first Portuguese-Japanese grammar, Father Sancho Alvarez’s life’s work, printed six years ago, and its companion, the incredible Portuguese-Latin-Japanese dictionary printed last year in Roman letters as well as hiragana script.  It had been begun at his order twenty years ago, the first dictionary of Japanese words ever compiled.

Father Alvito picked up the book and caressed it lovingly.  He knew that it was a unique work of art.  For eighteen years he himself had been compiling such a work and it was still nowhere near finished.  But his was to be a dictionary with explanatory supplements and far more detailed—almost an introduction to Japan and the Japanese, and he knew without vanity that if he managed to finish it, it would be a masterpiece compared to Father Alvarez’s work, that if his name was ever to be remembered, it would be because of his book and the Father-Visitor, who was the only father he had ever known.

‘You want to leave Portugal, my son, and join the service of God?’ the giant Jesuit had said the first day he had met him.

‘Oh, yes, please, Father,’ he had replied, craning up at him with desperate longing.

‘How old are you, my son?’

‘I don’t know, Father, perhaps ten, perhaps eleven, but I can read and write, the priest taught me, and I’m alone, I’ve no one of my own, I belong to no one. . . .’

Dell’Aqua had taken him to Goa and thence to Nagasaki, where he had joined the seminary of the Society of Jesus, the youngest European in Asia, at long last belonging.  Then came the miracle of the gift of tongues and the positions of trust as interpreter and trade adviser, first to Harima Tadao, daimyo of the fief of Hizen in Kyushu where Nagasaki lay, and then in time to the Taikō himself.  He was ordained, and later even attained the privilege of the fourth vow.  This was the special vow over and above the normal vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, given only to the elite of Jesuits, the vow of obedience to the Pope personally—to be his personal tool for the work of God, to go where the Pope personally ordered and do what he personally wanted; to become, as the founder of the Society, the Basque soldier Loyola, designed, one of the Regimini Militantis Ecclesiae, one of the professed, the special private soldiers of God for His elected general on earth, the Vicar of Christ.

I’ve been so very lucky, Alvito thought.  Oh, God, help me to help.

At last dell’Aqua got up and stretched and went to the window.  Sun sparkled off the gilded tiles of the soaring central castle donjon, the sheer elegance of the structure belying its massive strength.  Tower of evil, he thought.  How long will it stand there to remind each one of us?  Is it only fifteen—no, it was seventeen years ago that the Taikō put four hundred thousand men to building and excavating, and bled the country to pay for this, his monument, and then, in two short years, Osaka Castle was finished.  Incredible man!  Incredible people!  Yes.  And there it stands, indestructible.  Except to the Finger of God.  He can humble it in an instant, if He wishes.  Oh, God, help me to do Thy will.

‘Well, Martin, it seems we have work to do.’  Dell’Aqua began to walk up and down, his voice now as firm as his step.  ‘About the English pilot: If we don’t protect him he’ll be killed and we risk Toranaga’s disfavor.  If we manage to protect him he’ll soon hang himself.  But dare we wait?  His presence is a threat to us and there is no telling how much further damage he can do before that happy date.  Or we can help Toranaga to remove him.  Or, last, we can convert him.’

Alvito blinked.  ‘What?’

‘He’s intelligent, very knowledgeable about Catholicism.  Aren’t most Englishmen really Catholic at heart?  The answer is yes if their king or queen is Catholic, and no if he or she is Protestant.  The English are careless about religion.  They’re fanatic against us at the moment, but isn’t that because of the Armada?  Perhaps Blackthorne can be converted.  That would be the perfect solution—to the Glory of God, and save his heretic soul from a damnation he’s certainly going to.

‘Next, Toranaga: We’ll give him the maps he wants.  Explain about ‘spheres of influence.’  Isn’t that really what the lines of demarcation were for, to separate the influence of the Portuguese and our Spanish friends?  Si, e vero!  Tell him that on the other important matters I will personally be honored to prepare them for him and will give them to him as soon as possible.  Because I’ll have to check the facts in Macao, could he please grant a reasonable delay?  And in the same breath say that you are delighted to inform him that the Black Ship will sail three weeks early, with the biggest cargo of silks and gold ever, that all our assignments of goods and our portion of the cargo and . . .’ he thought a moment—and at least thirty percent of the whole cargo will be sold through Toranaga’s personally appointed broker.’

‘Eminence, the Captain-General won’t like sailing early and won’t like—’

‘It will be your responsibility to get Toranaga’s immediate sailing clearance for Ferriera.  Go and see him at once with my reply.  Let him be impressed with our efficiency, isn’t that one of the things he admires?  With immediate clearances, Ferriera will concede the minor point of arriving early in the season, and as to the broker, what’s the difference to the Captain-General between one native or another?  He will still get his percentage.’

‘But Lords Onoshi and Kiyama and Harima usually split the brokerage of the cargo between them.  I don’t know if they’d agree.’

‘Then solve the problem.  Toranaga will agree to the delay for a concession.  The only concessions he needs are power, influence, and money.  What can we give him?  We cannot deliver the Christian daimyos to him.  We—’

‘Yet,’ Alvito said.

‘Even if we could, I don’t know yet if we should or if we will.  Onoshi and Kiyama are bitter enemies, but they’ve joined against Toranaga because they’re sure he’d obliterate the Church—and them—if he ever got control of the Council.’

‘Toranaga will support the Church.  Ishido’s our real enemy.’

‘I don’t share your confidence, Martin.  We mustn’t forget that because Onoshi and Kiyama are Christians, all their followers are Christians in their tens of thousands.  We cannot offend them.  The only concession we can give to Toranaga is something to do with trade.  He’s fanatic about trade but has never managed to participate personally.  So the concession I suggest might tempt him to grant a delay which perhaps we can extend into a permanent one.  You know how the Japanese like this form of solution—the big stick poised, which both sides pretend does not exist, eh?’

‘In my opinion it’s politically unwise for Lord Onoshi and Lord Kiyama to turn against Toranaga at this time.  They should follow the old proverb about keeping a line of retreat open, no?  I could suggest to them that an offer to Toranaga of twenty-five percent—so each has an equal share, Onoshi, Kiyama, Harima, and Toranaga—would be a small consideration to soften the impact of their ‘temporary’ siding with Ishido against him.’

‘Then Ishido will distrust them and hate us even more when he finds out.’

‘Ishido hates us immeasurably now.  Ishido doesn’t trust them any more than they trust him and we don’t know yet why they’ve taken his side.  With Onoshi and Kiyama’s agreement, we would formally put the proposal as though it was merely our idea to maintain impartiality between Ishido and Toranaga.  Privately we can inform Toranaga of their generosity.’

Dell’Aqua considered the virtues and defects of the plan.  ‘Excellent,’ he said at length.  ‘Put it into effect.  Now, about the heretic.  Give his rutters to Toranaga today.  Go back to Toranaga at once.  Tell him that the rutters were sent to us secretly.’

‘How do I explain the delay in giving them to him?’

‘You don’t.  Just tell the truth: they were brought by Rodrigues but that neither of us realized the sealed package contained the missing rutters.  Indeed, we did not open them for two days.  They were in truth forgotten in the excitement about the heretic.  The rutters prove Blackthorne to be pirate, thief, and traitor.  His own words will dispose of him once and for all, which is surely divine justice.  Tell Toranaga the truth—that Mura gave them to Father Sebastio, as indeed happened, who sent them to us knowing we would know what to do with them.  That clears Mura, Father Sebastio, everyone.  We should tell Mura by carrier pigeon what has been done.  I’m sure Toranaga will realize that we have had his interests at heart over Yabu’s.  Does he know that Yabu’s made an arrangement with Ishido?’

‘I would say certainly, Eminence.  But rumor has it that Toranaga and Yabu are friends now.’

‘I wouldn’t trust that satan’s whelp.’

‘I’m sure Toranaga doesn’t.  Any more than Yabu has really made any commitment to him.’

Suddenly they were distracted by an altercation outside.  The door opened and a cowled monk came barefooted into the room, shaking off Father Soldi.  ‘The blessings of Jesus Christ upon you,’ he said, his voice rasping with hostility.  ‘May He forgive you your sins.’

‘Friar Perez—what are you doing here?’ dell’Aqua burst out.

‘I’ve come back to this cesspit of a land to proclaim the word of God to the heathen again.’

‘But you’re under Edict never to return on pain of immediate death for inciting to riot.  You escaped the Nagasaki martyrdom by a miracle and you were ordered—’

‘That was God’s will, and a filthy heathen Edict of a dead maniac has nothing to do with me,’ the monk said.  He was a short, lean Spaniard with a long unkempt beard.  ‘I’m here to continue God’s work.’  He glanced at Father Alvito.  ‘How’s trade, Father?’

‘Fortunately for Spain, very good,’ Alvito replied icily.

‘I don’t spend time in the counting house, Father.  I spend it with my flock.’

‘That’s commendable,’ dell’Aqua said sharply.  ‘But spend it where the Pope ordered—outside of Japan.  This is our exclusive province.  And it’s also Portuguese territory, not Spanish.  Do I have to remind you that three Popes have ordered all denominations out of Japan except us?  King Philip also ordered the same.’

‘Save your breath, Eminence.  The work of God surpasses earthly orders.  I’m back and I’ll throw open the doors of the churches and beseech the multitudes to rise up against the ungodly.’

‘How many times must you be warned?  You can’t treat Japan like an Inca protectorate peopled with jungle savages who have neither history nor culture.  I forbid you to preach and insist you obey Holy orders.’

‘We will convert the heathen.  Listen, Eminence, there’s another hundred of my brothers in Manila waiting for ships here, good Spaniards all, and lots of our glorious conquistadores to protect us if need be.  We’ll preach openly and we’ll wear our robes openly, not skulk about in idolatrous silken shirts like Jesuits!’

‘You must not agitate the authorities or you’ll reduce Mother Church to ashes!’

‘I tell you to your face we’re coming back to Japan and we’ll stay in Japan.  We’ll preach the Word in spite of you—in spite of any prelate, bishop, king, or even any pope, for the glory of God!’  The monk slammed the door behind him.

Flushed with rage, dell’Aqua poured a glass of Madeira.  A little of the wine slopped onto the polished surface of his desk.  ‘Those Spaniards will destroy us all.’  Dell’Aqua drank slowly, trying to calm himself.  At length he said, ‘Martin, send some of our people to watch him.  And you’d better warn Kiyama and Onoshi at once.  There’s no telling what’ll happen if that fool flaunts himself in public.’

‘Yes, Eminence.’  At the door Alvito hesitated.  ‘First Blackthorne and now Perez.  It’s almost too much of a coincidence.  Perhaps the Spaniards in Manila knew about Blackthorne and let him come here just to bedevil us.’

‘Perhaps, but probably not.’  Dell’Aqua finished his glass and set it down carefully.  ‘In any event, with the help of God and due diligence, neither of them will be permitted to harm the Holy Mother Church—whatever the cost.’