Shogun

commanding the longboat. Her skin crawled and she almost heaved. She willed the spasm away, thankful that Toranaga had ordered them all off this malodorous vessel.

“A fair wind and safe voyage,” Ferriera called down to them. He waved once and the salutation was returned and then the longboat cast off.

“Stand down when the longboat’s back and that bitch galley’s out of sight,” he ordered the chief gunner.

On the quarterdeck he stopped in front of Rodrigues. He pointed at the galley. “You’ll live to regret keeping him alive.”

“That’s in the hands of God. The Ingeles is an ‘acceptable’ pilot, if you could pass over his religion, my Captain-General.”

“I’ve considered that.”

“And?”

“The sooner we’re in Macao the better. Make record time, Rodrigues.” Ferriera went below.

Rodrigues’ leg was throbbing badly. He took a swig from the grog sack. May Ferriera go to hell, he told himself. But, please God, not until we reach Lisbon.

The wind veered slightly and a cloud reached for the nimbus of the moon, rain not far off and dawn streaking the sky. He put his full attention on his ship and her sails and the lie of her. When he was completely satisfied, he watched the longboat. And finally the galley.

He sipped more rum, content that his plan had worked so neatly. Even the pistol shot that had closed the issue. And content with his decision.

It was mine to make and I made it.

“Even so, Ingeles,” he said with a great sadness, “the Captain-General’s right. With thee, heresy has come to Eden.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Anjin-san?”

“Hai?” Blackthorne swooped out of a deep sleep.

“Here’s some food. And cha.”

For a moment he could not remember who he was or where he was. Then he recognized his cabin aboard the galley. A shaft of sunlight was piercing the darkness. He felt greatly rested. There was no drumbeat now and even in his deepest sleep, his senses had told him that the anchor was being lowered and his ship was safe, near shore, the sea gentle.

He saw a maid carrying a tray, Mariko beside her—her arm no longer in a sling—and he was lying in the pilot’s bunk, the same that he had used during the Rodrigues voyage from Anjiro village to Osaka and that was now, in a way, almost as familiar as his own bunk and cabin aboard Erasmus. Erasmus! It’ll be grand to be back aboard and to see the lads again.

He stretched luxuriously, then took the cup of cha Mariko offered.

“Thank you. That’s delicious. How’s your arm?”

“Much better, thank you.” Mariko flexed it to show him. “It was just a flesh wound.”

“You’re looking better, Mariko-san.”

“Yes, I’m better now.”

When she had come back aboard at dawn with Toranaga she had been near fainting. “Better to stay aloft,” he had told her. “The sickness will leave you faster.”

“My Master asks—asks why the pistol shot?”

“It was just a game pilots play,” he had told her.

“My Master compliments you on your seamanship.”

“We were lucky. The moon helped. And the crew were marvelous. Mariko-san, would you ask the Captain- san if he knows these waters? Sorry, but tell Toranaga-sama I can’t keep awake much longer. Or can we hove to for an hour or so out to sea? I’ve got to sleep.”

He vaguely remembered her telling him that Toranaga said he could go below, that the Captain-san was quite capable as they would be staying in coastal waters and not going out to sea.

Blackthorne stretched again and opened a cabin porthole. A rocky shore was two hundred-odd yards away. “Where are we?”

“Off the coast of Totomi Province, Anjin-san. Lord Toranaga wanted to swim and to rest the oarsmen for a few hours. We’ll be at Anjiro tomorrow.”

“The fishing village? That’s impossible. It’s near noon and at dawn we were off Osaka. It’s impossible!”

“Ah, that was yesterday, Anjin-san. You’ve slept a day and a night and half another day,” she replied. “Lord Toranaga said to let you sleep. Now he thinks a swim would be good to wake you up. After food.”

Food was two bowls of rice and charcoal-roasted fish with the dark, saltbitter, vinegar-sweet sauce that she had told him was made from fermented beans.

“Thank you—yes, I’d like a swim. Almost thirty-six hours? No wonder I feel fine.” He took the tray from the maid, ravenous. But he did not eat at once. “Why is she afraid?” he asked.

“She’s not, Anjin-san. Just a little nervous. Please excuse her. She’s never seen a foreigner close to before.”

“Tell her when the moon’s full, barbarians sprout horns and fire comes out of our mouths like dragons.”

Mariko laughed. “I certainly will not.” She pointed to the sea table. “There is tooth powder and a brush and water and fresh towels.” Then said in Latin, “It pleasures me to see thou art well. It is as was related on the march, thou hast great bravery.”

Their eyes locked and then the moment was allowed to pass. She bowed politely. The maid bowed. The door closed behind them.

Don’t think about her, he ordered himself. Think about Toranaga or Anjiro. Why do we stop at Anjiro tomorrow? To off-load Yabu? Good riddance!

Omi will be at Anjiro. What about Omi?

Why not ask Toranaga for Omi’s head? He owes you a favor or two. Or why not ask to fight Omi-san. How? With pistols or with swords? You’d have no chance with a sword and it’d be murder if you had a gun. Better to do nothing and wait. You’ll have a chance soon and then you’ll be revenged on both of them. You bask in Toranaga’s favor now. Be patient. Ask yourself what you need from him. Soon we’ll be in Yedo, so you’ve not much time. What about Toranaga?

Blackthorne was using the chopsticks as he had seen the men in the prison use them, lifting the bowl of rice to his lips and pushing the tacky rice from the lip of the bowl into his mouth with the sticks. The pieces of fish were more difficult. He was still not deft enough, so he used his fingers, glad to eat alone, knowing that to eat with his fingers would be very impolite in front of Mariko or Toranaga or any Japanese.

When every morsel was gone he was still famished.

“Got to get more food,” he said aloud. “Jesus God in heaven, I’d like some fresh bread and fried eggs and butter and cheese.?.?.?.”

He came on deck. Almost everyone was naked. Some of the men were drying themselves, others sunbathing, and a few were leaping overboard. In the sea alongside the ship, samurai and seamen were swimming or splashing as children would.

“Konnichi wa, Anjin-san.”

“Konnichi wa, Toranaga-sama,” he said.

Toranaga, quite naked, was coming up the gangway that had been let down to the sea. “Sonata wa oyogitamo ka?” he said, motioning at the sea, slapping the water off his belly and his shoulders, warm under the bright sun.

“Hai, Toranaga-sama, domo,” Blackthorne said, presuming that he was being asked if he wanted to swim.

Again Toranaga pointed at the sea and spoke shortly, then called Mariko to interpret. Mariko walked down