Shogun

Laughter erupted over the ship.

Toranaga was pounding the gunwale with his fist in glee, Yabu and the samurai were roaring. Even Mariko was laughing.

“One man got away, but what about all the dead?” Blackthorne cried out enraged. “Look ashore—there must be three, four hundred bodies there. Look at them, for Christ’s sake!”

But his shout did not come through the laughter.

Then a cry of alarm from the bow lookout. And the laughter died.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Toranaga said calmly, “Can we break through them, Captain?” He was watching the grouped fishing boats five hundred yards ahead, and the tempting passage they had left between them.

“No, Sire.”

“We’ve no alternative,” Yabu said. “There’s nothing else we can do.” He glared aft at the massed Grays who waited on the shore and the jetty, their faint, jeering insults riding on the wind.

Toranaga and Yabu were on the forepoop now. The drum had been silenced and the galley wallowed in a light sea. All aboard waited to see what would be decided. They knew that they were bottled tight. Ashore disaster, ahead disaster, to wait disaster. The net would come closer and closer and then they would be captured. If need be, Ishido could wait days.

Yabu was seething. If we’d rushed for the harbor mouth directly we’d boarded instead of wasting useless time over Buntaro, we’d be safely out to sea by now, he told himself. Toranaga’s losing his wits. Ishido will believe I betrayed him. There’s nothing I can do—unless we can fight our way out, and even then I’m committed to fight for Toranaga against Ishido. Nothing I can do. Except give Ishido Toranaga’s head. Neh? That would make you a Regent and bring you the Kwanto, neh? And then with six months of time and the musket samurai, why not even President of the Council of Regents? Or why not the big prize! Eliminate Ishido and become Chief General of the Heir, Lord Protector and Governor of Osaka Castle, the controlling general of all the legendary wealth in the donjon, with power over the Empire during Yaemon’s minority, and afterwards power second only to Yaemon. Why not?

Or even the biggest prize of all. Shogun. Eliminate Yaemon, then you’ll be Shogun.

All for a single head and some benevolent gods!

Yabu’s knees felt weak as his longing soared. So easy to do, he thought, but no way to take the head and escape—yet.

“Order attack stations!” Toranaga commanded at last.

As Yabu gave the orders and samurai began to prepare, Toranaga turned his attention to the barbarian, who was still near the forepoop, where he had stopped when the alarm was given, leaning against the short mainmast.

I wish I could understand him, Toranaga thought. One moment so brave, the next so weak. One moment so valuable, the next so useless. One moment killer, the next coward. One moment docile, the next dangerous. He’s man and woman, Yang and Yin. He’s nothing but opposites, and unpredictable. Toranaga had studied him carefully during the escape from the castle, during the ambush and after it. He had heard from Mariko and the captain and others what had happened during the fight aboard. He had witnessed the astonishing anger a few moments ago and then, when Buntaro had been sent off, he had heard the shout and had seen through veiled eyes the stretched ugliness on the man’s face, and then, when there should have been laughter, only anger.

Why not laughter when an enemy’s outsmarted? Why not laughter to empty the tragedy from you when karma interrupts the beautiful death of a true samurai, when karma causes the useless death of a pretty girl? Isn’t it only through laughter that we become one with the gods and thus can endure life and can overcome all the horror and waste and suffering here on earth? Like tonight, watching all those brave men meet their fate here, on this shore, on this gentle night, through a karma ordained a thousand lifetimes ago, or perhaps even one.

Isn’t it only through laughter we can stay human?

Why doesn’t the pilot realize he’s governed by karma too, as I am, as we all are, as even this Jesus the Christ was, for, if the truth were known, it was only his karma that made him die dishonored like a common criminal with other common criminals, on the hill the barbarian priests tell about.

All karma.

How barbaric to nail a man to a piece of wood and wait for him to die. They’re worse than the Chinese, who are pleasured by torture.

“Ask him, Yabu-san!” Toranaga said.

“Sire?”

“Ask him what to do. The pilot. Isn’t this a sea battle? Haven’t you told me the pilot’s a genius at sea? Good, let’s see if you’re right. Let him prove it.”

Yabu’s mouth was a tight cruel line and Toranaga could feel the man’s fear and it delighted him.

“Mariko-san,” Yabu barked. “Ask the pilot how to get out—how to break through those ships.”

Obediently Mariko moved away from the gunwale, the girl still supporting her. “No, I’m all right now, Fujiko- san,” she said. “Thank you.” Fujiko let her go and watched Blackthorne distastefully.

Blackthorne’s answer was short.

“He says ‘with cannon,’ Yabu-san,” Mariko said.

“Tell him he’ll have to do better than that if he wants to retain his head!”

“We must be patient with him, Yabu-san,” Toranaga interrupted. “Mariko-san, tell him politely, ‘Regrettably we have no cannon. Isn’t there another way to break out? It’s impossible by land.’ Translate exactly what he replies. Exactly.”

Mariko did so. “I’m sorry, Lord, but he says, no. Just like that. ‘No.’ Not politely.”

Toranaga moved his sash and scratched an itch under his armor. “Well then,” he said genially, “the Anjin-san says cannon and he’s the expert, so cannon it is. Captain, go there!” His blunt, calloused finger pointed viciously at the Portuguese frigate. “Get the men ready, Yabu-san. If the Southern Barbarians won’t lend me their cannon, then you will have to take them. Won’t you?”

“With very great pleasure,” Yabu said softly.

“You were right, he is a genius.”

“But you found the solution, Toranaga-san.”

“It’s easy to find solutions given the answer, neh? What’s the solution to Osaka Castle, Ally?”

“There isn’t one. In that the Taiko was perfect.”

“Yes. What’s the solution to treachery?”

“Of course, ignominious death. But I don’t understand why you should ask me that.”

“A passing thought—Ally.” Toranaga glanced at Blackthorne. “Yes, he’s a clever man. I have great need of clever men. Mariko-san, will the barbarians give me their cannon?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t they?” It had never occurred to her that they would not. She was still filled with anxiety over Buntaro. It would have been so much better to allow him to die back there. Why risk his honor? She wondered why Toranaga had ordered Buntaro away by land at the very last moment. Toranaga could just as easily have ordered him to swim to the boat. It would have been much safer and there was plenty of time. He could even have ordered it when Buntaro had first reached the end of the jetty. Why wait? Her most secret self answered that their lord must have had a very good reason to have waited and to have so ordered.

“And if they don’t? Are you prepared to kill Christians, Mariko-san?” Toranaga asked. “Isn’t that their most impossible law? Thou shalt not kill?”

“Yes, it is. But for you, Lord, we will go gladly into hell, my husband and my son and I.”

“Yes. You’re true samurai and I won’t forget that you took up a sword to defend me.”