“The war was good. We could have won easily. And smashed through to China. And civilized both countries.” Buntaro flushed and his voice rasped. “But we didn’t. We failed and had to come back with our shame because we were betrayed. Betrayed by filthy traitors in high places.”
“Yes, that’s so sad, but you’re right. Very right, Buntaro-sama,” she said soothingly, telling the lie easily, knowing no nation on earth could conquer China, and no one could civilize China, which had been civilized since ancient times.
The vein on Buntaro’s forehead was throbbing and he was talking almost to himself. “They’ll pay. All of them. The traitors. It’s only a matter of waiting beside a river long enough for the bodies of your enemies to float by,
“Yes, I agree. You’re so right, Buntaro-sama,” she said, chilled, knowing there was no limit to his ferocity. When Buntaro was sixteen he had executed his own mother, one of Hiro-matsu’s lesser consorts, for her supposed infidelity while his father, Hiro-matsu, was at war fighting for the Dictator, Lord Goroda. Then, years later, he had killed his own eldest son by his first wife for supposed insults and sent her back to her family, where she died by her own hand, unable to bear the shame. He had done terrible things to his consorts and to Mariko. And he had quarreled violently with Fujiko’s father and had accused him of cowardice in Korea, discrediting him to the Taiko, who had at once ordered him to shave his head and become a monk, to die debauched, so soon, eaten up by his own shame.
It took all of Fujiko’s will to appear tranquil. “We were so proud to hear that you had escaped the enemy,” she said.
The sake arrived. Buntaro began to drink heavily.
When there had been the correct amount of waiting, Fujiko got up. “Please excuse me for a moment.” She went to the kitchen to warn Blackthorne, to ask his permission for Buntaro to be quartered in the house, and to tell him and the servants what had to be done.
“Why here?” Blackthorne asked irritably. “Why to stay here? Is necessary?”
Fujiko apologized and tried to explain that, of course, Buntaro could not be refused. Blackthorne returned moodily to his cooking and she came back to Buntaro, her chest aching.
“My Master says he’s honored to have you here. His house is your house.”
“What’s it like being consort to a barbarian?”
“I would imagine horrible. But to the Anjin-san, who is hatamoto and therefore samurai? I suppose like to other men. This is the first time I’ve been consort. I prefer to be a wife. The Anjin-san’s like other men, though yes, some of his ways are very strange.”
“Who’d have thought one of our house would be consort to a barbarian—even a hatamoto.”
“I had no choice. I merely obeyed Lord Toranaga, and grandfather, the leader of our clan. It’s a woman’s place to obey.”
“Yes.” Buntaro finished his cup of sake and she refilled it. “Obedience’s important for a woman. And Mariko- san’s obedient, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Lord.” She looked into his ugly, apelike face. “She’s brought you nothing but honor, Sire. Without the Lady, your wife, Lord Toranaga could never have got the Anjin-san’s knowledge.”
He smiled crookedly. “I hear you stuck pistols in Omi-san’s face.”
“I was only doing my duty, Sire.”
“Where did you learn to use guns?”
“I had never handled a gun until then. I didn’t know if the pistols were loaded. But I would have pulled the triggers.”
Buntaro laughed. “Omi-san thought that too.”
She refilled his cup. “I never understood why Omi-san didn’t try to take them away from me. His lord had ordered him to take them, but he didn’t.”
“I would have.”
“Yes, Uncle. I know. Please excuse me, I would still have pulled the triggers.”
“Yes. But you would have missed!”
“Yes, probably. Since then I’ve learned how to shoot.”
“He taught you?”
“No. One of Lord Naga’s officers.”
“Why?”
“My father would never allow his daughters to learn sword or spear. He thought, wisely I believe, we should devote our time to learning gentler things. But sometimes a woman needs to protect her master and his house. The pistol’s a good weapon for a woman, very good. It requires no strength and little practice. So now I can perhaps be a little more use to my Master, for I will surely blow any man’s head off to protect him, and for the honor of our house.”
Buntaro drained his cup. “I was proud when I heard you’d opposed Omi-san as you did. You were correct. Lord Hiro-matsu will be proud too.”
“Thank you, Uncle. But I was only doing an ordinary duty.” She bowed formally. “My Master asks if you would allow him the honor of talking with you now, if it pleases you.”
He continued the ritual. “Please thank him but first may I bathe? If it pleases him, I’ll see him when my
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Blackthorne waited in the garden. Now he wore the Brown uniform kimono that Toranaga had given him with swords in his sash and a loaded pistol hidden under the sash. From Fujiko’s hurried explanations and subsequently from the servants, he had gathered that he had to receive Buntaro formally, because the samurai was an important general and hatamoto, and was the first guest in the house. So he had bathed and changed quickly and had gone to the place that had been prepared.
He had seen Buntaro briefly yesterday, when he arrived. Buntaro had been busy with Toranaga and Yabu the rest of the day, together with Mariko, and Blackthorne had been left alone to organize the hurried attack demonstration with Omi and Naga. The attack was satisfactory.
Mariko had returned to the house very late. She had told him briefly about Buntaro’s escape, the days of being hunted by Ishido’s men, eluding them, and at last breaking through the hostile provinces to reach the Kwanto. “It was very difficult, but perhaps not too difficult, Anjin-san. My husband is very strong and very brave.”
“What’s going to happen now? Are you leaving?”
“Lord Toranaga orders that everything’s to remain as it was. Nothing’s to be changed.”
“You’re changed, Mariko. A spark’s gone out of you.”
“No. That’s your imagination, Anjin-san. It’s just my relief that he’s alive when I was certain he was dead.”
“Yes. But it’s made a difference, hasn’t it?”
“Of course. I thank God my Master wasn’t captured—that he lived to obey Lord Toranaga. Will you excuse me, Anjin-san. I’m tired now. I’m sorry, I’m very very tired.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“What should you do, Anjin-san? Except to be happy for me and for him. Nothing’s changed, really. Nothing is finished because nothing began. Everything’s as it was. My husband’s alive.”
Don’t you wish he were dead? Blackthorne asked himself in the garden. No.
Then why the hidden pistol? Are you filled with guilt?
No. Nothing began.
Didn’t it?
No.
You thought you were taking her. Isn’t that the same as taking her in fact?
He saw Mariko walk into the garden from the house. She looked like a porcelain miniature following half a
