Shogun

“Yes, Anjin-san. Please excuse me.”

Blackthorne went to the side to watch the galley docking, just to the west of them. “Ginsel! Go ashore and watch ’em take our hawsers! See they’re secured properly. Look lively now!”

Then, his ship in control, Blackthorne scrutinized the twenty men. “Why are they all chosen from the bound group, Uraga-san?”

“They’re a clan, sen—Anjin-san. Like brothers, Sire. They beg for the honors of defending you.”

“Anatawa—anatawa—anatawa—” Blackthorne pointed out ten men at random and ordered them ashore, to be replaced from his other vassals, also to be selected by Uraga at random. And he told Uraga to make it clear all his vassals were to be like brothers or they could commit seppuku now.

“Wakarimasu?”

“Hai, Anjin-san. Gomen nasai.”

Soon the bow hawsers were secured aboard the other craft. Blackthorne inspected everything, checked the wind again using all his sea sense, knowing that even within the benign waters of the vast Yedo harbor, their journey could be dangerous if a sudden squall began.

“Cast off!” he shouted. “Ima, Captain-san!”

The other captain waved and let his galley ease away from the jetty. Naga was aboard the craft, which was packed with samurai and the rest of Blackthorne’s vassals. Yabu stood beside Blackthorne on the quarterdeck of Erasmus. She heeled slightly and a tremor went through her as she was taken by the weight of a current. Blackthorne and all the crew were filled with jubilation, their excitement at being once more at sea overriding their anxieties. Ginsel was leaning over the side of the tiny, roped starboard platform, swinging the lead, calling out the fathoms. The jetty began to fall away.

“Ahoy ahead, Yukkuri sei!” Slow down!

“Hai, Anjin-san,” came the answering shout. Together the two ships felt their way out into the harbor stream, riding lights at their mastheads.

“Good, Anjin-san,” Yabu said. “Very good!”

Yabu waited until they were well out to sea, then he took Blackthorne aside. “Anjin-san,” he said warily. “You saved my life yesterday. Understand? Calling off those ronin. Remember?”

“Yes. Only my duty.”

“No, not duty. At Anjiro, you remember that other man, the seaman .?.?. remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Shigata ga nai, neh? Karma, neh? That was before samurai or hatamoto.?.?.?.” Yabu’s eyes were glittering in the light of the sea lantern and he touched Blackthorne’s sword and spoke softly and clearly. “.?.?.?Before Oil Seller, neh? As samurai to samurai ask forget all before. Start new. Tonight. Please? Understand?”

“Yes, understand.”

“You need me, Anjin-san. Without me, no barbarian wako. You can’t get them alone. Not from Nagasaki. Never. I can get them—help you get them. Now we fight same side. Toranaga’s side. Same side. Without me, no wako, understand?”

Blackthorne watched the galley ahead for a moment and checked the deck and his seamen. Then he looked down on Yabu. “Yes. Understand.”

“You understand ‘hate’—the word ‘hate’?”

“Yes.”

“Hate comes from fear. I do not fear you. You need not fear me. Never again. I want what you want: your new ships here, you here, captain of new ships. I can help you very much. First the Black Ship .?.?. ah yes, Anjin- san,” he said, seeing the joy flood across Blackthorne’s face, “I will persuade Lord Toranaga. You know I’m a fighter, neh? I’ll lead the charge. I’ll take the Black Ship for you on land. Together you and I are stronger than one. Neh?”

“Yes. Possible get more men? More than two hundred my?”

“If you need two thousand men .?.?. five thousand! Don’t worry, you lead ship—I’ll lead the fight. Agree?”

“Yes. Fair trade. Thank you. I agree.”

“Good, very good, Anjin-san,” Yabu said contentedly. He knew this mutual partnership would benefit them both however much the barbarian hated him. Again Yuriko’s logic had been flawless.

Earlier that evening he had seen Toranaga and asked permission to go at once to Osaka to prepare the way for him. “Please excuse me but I thought the matter urgent enough. After all, Sire,” Yabu had said deferentially as he and his wife had planned, “you should have someone of rank there to make sure that all your arrangements are perfect. Ishido’s a peasant and doesn’t understand ceremony, neh? The arrangement must be perfect or you should not go, neh? It could take weeks, neh?”

He had been delighted with the ease with which Toranaga had been persuaded. “Then there’s also the barbarian ship, Sire. Better to put it at Yokohama at once in case of tai-fun. I’ll supervise that myself, with your permission, before I go. The Musket Regiment can be its guards, give them something to do. Then I’ll go on directly to Osaka with the galley. By sea’d be better and quicker, neh?”

“Very well, yes, if you think that wise, Yabu-san, do it. But take Naga-san with you. Leave him in charge at Yokohama.”

“Yes, Sire.” Then Yabu had told Toranaga about Tsukku-san’s anger; how, if Lord Toranaga wanted the Anjin-san to live long enough to obtain men at Nagasaki in case Toranaga wanted the ship to put to sea, then perhaps this should be done at once without hesitation. “The priest was very angry—I think angry enough to set his converts against the Anjin-san!”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yes, Sire. Perhaps I should put the Anjin-san under my protection for the moment.” Then, as though it were a sudden thought, Yabu added, “The simplest thing would be to take the Anjin-san with me. I can start arrangements at Osaka—continue to Nagasaki, get the new barbarians, then complete the arrangements on my return.”

“Do whatever you think fit,” Toranaga had said. “I’ll leave it to you to decide, my friend. What does it matter, neh? What does anything matter?”

Yabu was happy that, at long last, he could act. Only Naga’s presence had not been planned, but that did not matter, and truly, it would be wise to have him at Yokohama.

Yabu was watching the Anjin-san—the tall, arrogant stance, feet slightly apart, swaying so easily with the pitch and toss of the waves, seemingly part of the ship, so huge and strong and different. So different from when ashore. Consciously Yabu began to take up a similar stance, aping him carefully.

‘I want more than the Kwanto, Yuriko-san,’ he had whispered to his wife just before he had left their house. ‘Just one more thing. I want command of the sea. I want to be Lord High Admiral. We’ll put the whole revenue of the Kwanto behind Omi’s plan to escort the barbarian to his home, to buy more ships and bring them back again. Omi will go with him, neh?’

‘Yes,’ she had said, as happily. ‘We can trust him.’

The wharf at Yedo was deserted now. The last of the samurai guards were disappearing into the byways heading back toward the castle. Father Alvito came out of the shadows, Brother Michael beside him. Alvito looked seaward. “May God curse her and all who sail in her.”

“Except one, Father. One of our people sails with the ship. And Naga-san. Naga-san’s sworn to become Christian in the first month of next year.”

“If there even is a next year for him,” Alvito said, filled with gloom. “I don’t know about Naga, perhaps he means it, perhaps not. That ship’s going to destroy us and there’s nothing we can do.”

“God will help us.”

“Yes, but meanwhile we’re Soldiers of God and we have to help Him. The Father-Visitor must be warned at once, and the Captain-General. Have you found a carrier pigeon for Osaka yet?”