Shogun

He saw one of the children was trembling with terror and panic. “Jesus Christ in heaven, give me strength.?.?.?.” He held on to one of the posts to steady himself. “It’s not your fault,” he choked out, not realizing he wasn’t speaking Japanese. “It’s hers! It’s you! You murdering bitch!”

Fujiko looked up slowly. She saw the accusing finger and the hatred on his face. She whispered a command to her maid, Nigatsu.

Nigatsu shook her head and began to beg.

“Ima!”

The maid fled. She returned with the killing sword, tears streaming her face. Fujiko took the sword and offered it to Blackthorne with both hands. She spoke and though he did not know all the words he knew that she was saying, “I’m responsible, please take my life because I’ve displeasured you.”

“IYE!” He grabbed the sword and threw it away. “You think that’ll bring Ueki-ya back to life?”

Then, suddenly, he realized what he had done, and what he was doing now. “Oh, Jesus God?.?.?.”

He left them. In despair he went to the outcrop above the village near the shrine that was beside the ancient gnarled cypress tree and he wept.

He wept because a good man was dead unnecessarily and because he knew now that he had murdered him. “Lord God forgive me. I’m responsible—not Fujiko. I killed him. I ordered that no one was to touch the pheasant but me. I asked her if everyone understood and she said yes. I ordered it with mock gravity but that doesn’t matter now. I gave the orders, knowing their law and knowing their customs. The old man broke my stupid order so what else could Fujiko-san do? I’m to blame.”

In time the tears were spent. It was deep night now. He returned to his house.

Fujiko was waiting for him as always, but alone. The sword was across her lap. She offered it to him. “Dozo—dozo, Anjin-san.”

“Iye,” he said, taking the sword as a sword should be taken. “Iye, Fujiko-san. Shigata ga nai, neh? Karma, neh?” His hand touched her in apology. He knew that she had had to bear all the worst of his stupidity.

Her tears spilled. “Arigato, arigato go—gozaimashita, Anjin-san,” she said brokenly. “Gomen nasai?.?.?.”

His heart went out to her.

Yes, Blackthorne thought with great sadness, yes it did, but that doesn’t excuse you or take away her humiliation—or bring Ueki-ya back to life. You were to blame. You should have known better.?.?.?.

“Anjin-san!” Naga said.

“Yes? Yes, Naga-san?” He pulled himself out of his remorse and looked down at the youth who walked beside him. “Sorry, what you say?”

“I said I hoped to be your friend.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Yes, and perhaps you’d—” There was a jumble of words Blackthorne did not understand.

“Please?”

“Teach, neh? Understand ‘teach’? Teach about world?”

“Ah, yes, so sorry. Teach what, please?”

“About foreign lands—outside lands. The world, neh?”

“Ah, understand now. Yes, try.”

They were near the guards now. “Begin tomorrow, Anjin-san. Friends, neh?”

“Yes, Naga-san. Try.”

“Good.” Very satisfied, Naga nodded. When they came up to the samurai Naga ordered them out of the way, motioning Blackthorne to go on alone. He obeyed, feeling very alone in the circle of men.

“Ohayo, Toranaga-sama. Ohayo, Mariko-san,” he said, joining them.

“Ohayo, Anjin-san. Dozo suwaru.” Good day, Anjin-san, please sit down.

Mariko smiled at him. “Ohayo, Anjin-san. Ikaga desu ka? ”

“Yoi, domo.” Blackthorne looked back at her, so glad to see her. “Thy presence fills me with joy, great joy,” he said in Latin.

“And thine—it is so good to see thee. But there is a shadow on thee. Why?”

“Nan ja?” Toranaga asked.

She told him what had been said. Toranaga grunted, then spoke.

“My Master says you’re looking careworn, Anjin-san. I must agree too. He asks what’s troubling you.”

“It’s nothing. Domo, Toranaga-sama. Nani mo.” It’s nothing.

“Nan ja?” Toranaga asked directly. “Nan ja?”

Obediently Blackthorne replied at once. “Ueki-ya,” he said helplessly. “Hai, Ueki- ya.”

“Ah so desu!” Toranaga spoke at length to Mariko.

“My Master says there is no need to be sad about Old Gardener. He asks me to tell you that it was all officially dealt with. Old Gardener understood completely what he was doing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, it would be very difficult for you, but you see, Anjin-san, the pheasant was rotting in the sun. Flies were swarming terribly. Your health, your consort’s health, and that of your whole house was being threatened. Also, so sorry, there had been some very private, cautious complaints from Omi-san’s head servant—and others. One of our most important rules is that the individual may never disturb the wa, the harmony of the group, remember? So something had to be done. You see, decay, the stench of decay, is revolting to us. It’s the worst smell in the world to us, so sorry. I tried to tell you but—well, it’s one of the things that sends us all a little mad. Your head servant—”

“Why didn’t someone come to me at once? Why didn’t someone just tell me?” Blackthorne asked. “The pheasant was meaningless to me.”

“What was there to tell? You’d given orders. You are head of the house. They didn’t know your customs or what to do, other than to solve the dilemma according to our custom.” She spoke to Toranaga for a moment, explaining what Blackthorne had said, then turned back again. “Is this distressing you? Do you wish me to continue?”

“Yes, please, Mariko-san.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, your head servant, Small Tooth Cook, called a meeting of your servants, Anjin-san. Mura, the village headman, was asked to attend officially. It was decided that village eta could not be asked to take it away. This was only a house problem. One of the servants had to take it and bury it, even though you’d given absolute orders it was not to be moved. Obviously your consort was duty bound to see your orders were obeyed. Old Gardener asked to be allowed to carry it away. Lately he’d been living and sleeping in great pain from his abdomen and he found kneeling and weeding and planting very tiring, and could not do his work to his own satisfaction. Third Cook Assistant also offered, saying he was very young and stupid and he was sure his life counted for nothing against such a grave matter. At length Old Gardener was allowed the honor. Truly it was a great honor, Anjin-san. With great solemnity they all bowed to him and he to them and happily he took the thing away and buried it to the great relief of all.

“When he came back he went directly to Fujiko-san and told her what he’d done, that he’d disobeyed your law, neh? She thanked him for removing the hazard, then told him to wait. She came to me for advice and asked me what she should do. The matter had been done formally so it would have to be dealt with formally. I told her I didn’t know, Anjin-san. I asked Buntaro-san but he didn’t know either. It was complicated, because of you. So he asked Lord Toranaga. Lord Toranaga saw your consort himself.” Mariko turned back to Toranaga and told him where she had reached in the story, as he had requested.