question our General’s orders or the policy of the Church? You have jeopardized your immortal soul. You are a disgrace to your God, your Company, your Church, your family, and your friends. Your case is so serious it will have to be dealt with by the Visitor-General himself. Until that time you will not take communion, you will not be confessed or hear confession or any part in any service.?.?.?.” Joseph’s shoulders began shaking with the agony of remorse that possessed him. “As initial penance you are forbidden to talk, you will have only rice and water for thirty days, you will spend every night for the next thirty nights on your knees in prayer to the Blessed Madonna for forgiveness for your hideous sins, and further you will be scourged. Thirty lashes. Take off your cassock.”
The shoulders stopped trembling. Joseph looked up. “I accept everything you’ve ordered, Father,” he said, “and I apologize with all my heart, with all my soul. I beg your forgiveness as I will beg His forgiveness forever. But I will not be lashed like a common criminal.”
“You-will-be-scourged!”
“Please excuse me, Father,” Joseph said. “In the name of the Blessed Madonna, it’s not the pain. Pain is nothing to me, death is nothing to me. That I’m damned and will burn in hellfire for all eternity may be my
“Your pride sickens me. It’s not for the pain you’re to be punished, but to remove your disgusting pride. Common criminal? Where is your humility? Our Lord Jesus Christ endured mortification. And he died with common criminals.”
“Yes. That’s our major problem here, Father.”
“What?”
“Please excuse my bluntness, Father, but if the King of Kings had not died like a common criminal on the cross, samurai could accept—”
“Stop!”
“—Christianity more easily. The Society’s wise to avoid preaching Christ crucified like the other Orders —”
Like an avenging angel, Alvito held up his cross as a shield in front of him. “In the name of God, keep silent and obey or-you-are-excommunicated! Seize him and strip him!”
The others came to life and moved forward, but Joseph sprang to his feet. A knife appeared in his hand from under his robes. He put his back to the wall. Everyone stopped in his tracks. Except Brother Michael. Brother Michael came forward slowly and calmly, his hand outstretched. “Please give me the knife, Brother,” he said gently.
“No. Please excuse me.”
“Then pray for me, Brother, as I pray for you.” Michael quietly reached up for the weapon.
Joseph darted a few paces back, then readied for a death thrust. “Forgive me, Michael.”
Michael continued to approach.
“Michael, stop! Leave him alone,” Alvito commanded.
Michael obeyed, inches from the hovering blade.
Then Alvito said, ashen, “God have mercy on you, Joseph. You are excommunicated. Satan has possessed your soul on earth as he will possess it after death. Get thee gone!”
“I renounce the Christian God! I’m Japanese—I’m Shinto. My soul’s my own now. I’m not afraid,” Joseph shouted. “Yes, we’ve pride—unlike barbarians. We’re Japanese, we’re not barbarians. Even our peasants are not barbarians.”
Gravely Alvito made the sign of the cross as protection for all of them and fearlessly turned his back on the knife. “Let us pray together, Brothers. Satan is in our midst.”
The others also turned away, many sadly, some still in shock. Only Michael remained where he was, looking at Joseph. Joseph ripped off his rosary and cross. He was going to hurl it away but Michael held out his hand again. “Please, Brother, please give it to me—it is such a simple gift,” he said.
Joseph looked at him a long moment, then he gave it to him. “Please excuse me.”
“I will pray for you,” Michael said.
“Didn’t you hear? I’ve renounced God!”
“I will pray that God will not renounce you, Uraga-noh-Tadamasa-san.”
“Forgive me, Brother,” Joseph said. He stuck the knife in his sash, jerked the door open, and walked blindly along the corridor out onto the veranda. People watched him curiously, among them Uo the fisherman, who was waiting patiently in the shadows. Joseph crossed the courtyard and went toward the gate. A samurai stood in his way.
“Halt!”
Joseph stopped.
“Where are you going, please?”
“I’m sorry, please excuse me, I—I don’t know.”
“I serve Lord Toranaga. So sorry, I couldn’t help hearing what went on in there. The whole inn must have heard. Shocking bad manners .?.?. shocking for your leader to shout like that and disturb the peace. And you too. I’m on duty here. I think it’s best you see the officer of my watch.”
“I think—thank you, I’ll go the other way. Please excuse—”
“You’ll go nowhere, so sorry. Except to see my officer.”
“What? Oh—yes. Yes, I’m sorry, of course.” Joseph tried to make his brain work.
“Good. Thank you.” The samurai turned as another samurai approached from the bridge and saluted.
“I’m to fetch the Tsukku-san for Lord Toranaga.”
“Good. You’re expected.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Toranaga watched the tall priest approach across the clearing, the flickering light of the torches making the lean face starker than usual above the blackness of his beard. The priest’s orange Buddhist robe was elegant and a rosary and cross hung at his waist.
Ten paces away Father Alvito stopped, knelt, and bowed deferentially, beginning the customary formalities.
Toranaga was sitting alone on the dais, guards in a semicircle around him, well out of hearing. Only Blackthorne was nearby and he lolled against the platform as he had been ordered, his eyes boring into the priest. Alvito appeared not to notice him.
“It is good to see you, Sire,” Father Alvito said when it was polite to do so.
“And to see you, Tsukku-san.” Toranaga motioned the priest to make himself comfortable on the cushion that had been placed on a tatami on the ground in front of the platform. “It’s a long time since I saw you.”
“Yes, Sire, there’s much to tell.” Alvito was deeply conscious that the cushion was on the earth and not on the dais. Also, he was acutely aware of the samurai swords that Blackthorne now wore so near to Toranaga and the way he slouched with such indifference. “I bring a confidential message from my superior, the Father-Visitor, who greets you with deference.”
“Thank you. But first, tell me about you.”
“Ah, Sire,” Alvito said, knowing that Toranaga was far too discerning not to have noticed the remorse that beset him, much as he had tried to throw it off. “Tonight I’m too aware of my own failings. Tonight I’d like to be allowed to put off my earthly duties and go into a retreat to pray, to beg for God’s favor.” He was shamed by his own lack of humility. Although Joseph’s sin had been terrible, Alvito had acted with haste and anger and stupidity. It was his fault that a soul had been outcast, to be lost forever. “Our Lord once said, ‘Please, Father, let this cup pass from me.’ But even He had to retain the cup. We, in the world, we have to try to follow in His footsteps as best we can. Please excuse me for allowing my problem to show.”
“What was your ‘cup,’ old friend?”
Alvito told him. He knew there was no reason to hide the facts for, of course, Toranaga would hear them very soon if he did not already know them, and it was much better to hear the truth than a garbled version. “It’s so very sad to lose a Brother, terrible to make one an outcast, however terrible the crime. I should have been more
