Shogun

“I am what I am, Pilot, but I will try.”

So they began to exchange knowledge cautiously. For Blackthorne it seemed an unfair trade. Alvito’s erudition was enormous, he was a masterly teacher, whereas Blackthorne thought he related only things that any pilot would know. “But that’s not true,” Alvito had said. “You’re a unique pilot, you’ve done incredible things. One of half a dozen on earth, neh?”

Gradually a truce did happen between them and this pleased Mariko.

“This is friendship, Anjin-san, or the beginning of it,” Mariko said.

“No. Not friendship. I distrust him as much as ever, as he does me. We’re perpetual enemies. I’ve forgotten nothing, nor has he. This is a respite, temporary, probably for a special purpose he’d never tell if I were to ask. I understand him and there’s no harm, so long as I don’t drop my guard.”

While he spent time with Alvito, she would ride lazily with Kiku and Gyoko and talk about pillowing and about ways to please men and about the Willow World. In return she told them about her world, sharing what she had witnessed or been part of or learned, about the Dictator Goroda, the Taiko, and even Lord Toranaga, judicious stories about the majestic ones that no commoner would ever know.

A few leagues south of Mishima the river curled away to the west, to fall placidly to the coast and the large port of Numazu, and they left the ravinelike country and pushed across the flat rice paddy plains along the wide busy road that headed northward. There were many streams and tributaries to ford. Some were shallow. Some were deep and very wide and they had to be poled across in flat barges. Very few were spanned. Usually they were all carried across on the shoulders of porters from the plenty that were always stationed nearby for this special purpose, chattering and bidding for that privilege.

This was the seventh day from Yokose. The road forked and here Father Alvito said he had to leave them. He would take the west path, to return to his ship for a day or so, but he would catch them up and join them again on the road from Mishima to Yedo, if that was permitted. “Of course, you’re both welcome to come with me if you wish.”

“Thank you but, so sorry, there are things I must do in Mishima,” Mariko said.

“Anjin-san? If Lady Mariko’s going to be busy, you’d be welcome by yourself. Our cook’s very good, the wine’s fair. As God is my judge, you’d be safe, and free to come and go as you wish. Rodrigues is aboard.”

Mariko saw that Blackthorne wanted to leave her. How can he? she asked herself with a great sadness. How can he want to leave me when time is so short? “Please go, Anjin-san,” she said. “It would be nice for you—and good to see the Rodrigues, neh?”

But Blackthorne did not go, much as he wanted to. He didn’t trust the priest. Not even for Rodrigues would he put his head in that trap. He thanked Alvito and they watched him ride away.

“Let’s stop now, Anjin-san,” Mariko said, even though it was barely noon. “There’s no hurry, neh?”

“Excellent. Yes, I’d like that.”

“The Father’s a good man but I’m glad he’s gone.”

“So am I. But he’s not a good man. He’s a priest.”

She was taken aback by his vehemence. “Oh, so sorry, Anjin-san, please excuse me for say—”

“It’s not important, Mariko-chan. I told you—nothing’s forgotten. He’ll always be after my hide.” Blackthorne went to find Captain Yoshinaka.

Troubled, she looked down the western fork.

The horses of Father Alvito’s party moved through the other travelers unhurriedly. Some passersby bowed to the small cortege, some knelt in humility, many were curious, many hard-faced. But all moved politely out of the way. Except even the lowest samurai. When Father Alvito met a samurai he moved to the left or to the right and his acolytes followed him.

He was glad to be leaving Mariko and Blackthorne, glad of the break. He had urgent dispatches to send to the Father-Visitor that he had been unable to send because his carrier pigeons had been destroyed in Yokose. There were so many problems to solve: Toranaga, Uo the fisherman, Mariko, and the pirate. And Joseph, who continued to dog his footsteps.

“What’s he doing there, Captain Yoshinaka?” he had blurted out the first day, when he noticed Joseph among the guards, wearing a military kimono and, awkwardly, swords.

“Lord Toranaga ordered me to take him to Mishima, Tsukku-san. There I’m to turn him over to Lord Hiro- matsu. Oh, so sorry, does the sight of him offend you?”

“No—no,” he had said unconvincingly.

“Ah, you’re looking at his swords? There’s no need to worry. They’re only hilts, they’ve no blades. It’s Lord Toranaga’s orders. Seems as the man was ordered into your Order so young it’s not clear if he should have real swords or not, much as he’s entitled to wear them, much as he wants them. Seems he joined your Order as a child, Tsukku-san. Even so, of course we can’t have a samurai without swords, neh? Uraga- noh-Tadamasa’s certainly samurai though he’s been a barbarian priest for twenty years. Our Master’s wisely made this compromise.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“I’m to hand him over to Lord Hiro-matsu. Maybe he’ll be sent back to his uncle for judgment, maybe he’ll stay with us. I only obey orders, Tsukku-san.”

Father Alvito went to speak with Joseph but Yoshinaka had stopped him politely. “So sorry, but my Master also ordered him kept to himself. Away from everyone. Particularly Christians. Until Lord Harima gives a judgment, my Master said. Uraga-san’s Lord Harima’s vassal, neh? Lord Harima’s Christian too. Neh? Lord Toranaga says a Christian daimyo should deal with the Christian renegade. After all, Lord Harima’s his uncle and leader of the house and it was he who ordered him into your keeping in the first place.”

Though it was forbidden, Alvito had tried again that night to talk to Joseph privately, to beg him to withdraw his sacrilege and kneel in penance to the Father-Visitor, but the youth had coldly walked away, without listening, and after that, Joseph was always sent far ahead.

Somehow, Holy Madonna, we’ve got to bring him back to the mercy of God, Alvito thought in anguish. What can I do? Perhaps the Father-Visitor will know how to handle Joseph. Yes, and he’ll know what to do about Toranaga’s incredible decision to submit, which in their secret conferences they had discarded as an impossibility. “No—that’s totally against Toranaga’s character,” dell’Aqua had said. “He’ll go to war. When the rains cease, perhaps before, if he can get Zataki to recant and betray Ishido. My forecast is he’ll wait as long as he can and try to force Ishido to make the first move—his usual waiting game. Whatever happens, so long as Kiyama and Onoshi support Ishido and Osaka, the Kwanto will be overrun and Toranaga destroyed.”

“And Kiyama and Onoshi? They’ll keep their enmity buried, for the common good?”

“Yes. They’re totally convinced a Toranaga victory would be the Holy Church’s death knell. Now that Harima will side with Ishido, I’m afraid Toranaga’s a broken dream.”

Civil war again, Alvito thought. Brother against brother, father against son, village against village. Anjiro ready to revolt, armed with stolen muskets, so Uo the fisherman had whispered. And the other frightening news: a secret Musket Regiment almost ready! A modern, European-style cavalry unit of more than two thousand muskets, adapted to Japanese warfare. Oh, Madonna, protect the faithful and curse that heretic.?.?.?.

Such a pity Blackthorne is twisted and mind-deformed. He could be such a valuable ally. I never would have thought that but it’s true. He’s incredibly wise in the ways of the sea and the world. Brave and cunning, honest within his heresy, straight and guileless. Never needs to be told something twice, his memory astonishing. He’s taught me so much about the world. And about himself. Is that wrong? Alvito wondered sadly as he turned to wave at Mariko a last time. Is it wrong to learn about your enemy, and in return, to teach? No. Is it wrong to turn a blind eye to mortal sin?

Three days out from Yokose, Brother Michael’s observation had shattered him.

“You believe they’re lovers?”

“What is God but love? Isn’t that the Lord Jesus’ word?” Michael had replied. “I only mentioned I saw their eyes touching each other and that it was so beautiful to see. About their bodies I don’t know, Father, and in truth I don’t care. Their souls touch and I seem to be more aware of God because of it.”

“You must be mistaken about them. She’d never do that! It’s against her whole heritage, against her law and the law of God. She’s a devout Christian. She knows adultery’s a hideous sin.”