Shogun

san, ‘one hundred thousand’?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

They all looked away as a phalanx of porters and pack horses and three palanquins rounded the far corner and approached under guard from the end of the access to this cul-de-sac. The avenue was still deeply shadowed and dark between the tall guarded walls. Flares still burned in wall sockets. Even from this distance they could see the nervousness of the porters. Grays across from them seemed more hushed and attentive, and so did the Browns on guard.

The tall gates opened to admit the party, their escorting Grays staying outside with their comrades, then closed again. The great iron bar clanged back into the large brackets that were set deep into the granite walls. No portcullis guarded this gateway.

Yoshinaka said, “Anjin-san, please excuse me. I must see all is well. All ready, neh?”

“I wait here.”

“Yes.” Yoshinaka left.

The Grays’ captain went to the parapet and watched below. Christ Jesus, Blackthorne was thinking, I hope she’s right and Toranaga’s right. Not long now, eh? He measured the sun and muttered vaguely to himself in Portuguese, “Not long to go.”

Unconsciously the captain grunted his agreement and Blackthorne realized the man understood him clearly in Portuguese, was therefore Catholic and another possible assassin. His mind rushed back to last night, and he remembered that everything he had said to Mariko had been in Latin. Was it all in Latin? Mother of God, what about her saying “.?.?.?I can order them killed?” Was that in Latin? Does he speak Latin, too, like that other captain, the one who was killed during the first escape from Osaka?

The sun was gathering strength now and Blackthorne took his eyes off the captain of Grays. If you didn’t murder me in the night maybe you’ll never do it, he thought, putting this Catholic into a compartment.

He saw Kiri come out into the forecourt below. She was supervising maids bearing panniers and chests for the pack horses. She looked tiny, standing on the main steps where Sazuko had pretended to slip, initiating Toranaga’s escape. Just to the north was the lovely garden and tiny rustic house where he’d first seen Mariko and Yaemon, the Heir. His mind journeyed with the noon cortege out of the castle, curling through the maze, then safely out, through the woods, and down to the sea. He prayed that she would be safe and everyone safe. Once they were away, Yabu and he would leave and go to the galley and out to sea.

From here on the battlements the sea seemed so near. The sea beckoned. And the horizon.

“Konbanwa, Anjin-san.”

“Mariko-san!” She was as radiant as ever.

“Konbanwa,” he said, then in Latin, nonchalantly, “Beware of this Gray man—he understands,” continuing instantly in Portuguese to give her time to cover, “yes, I don’t understand how you can be so beautiful after so little sleep.” He took her arm and put her back to the captain, guiding her nearer the parapet. “Look, there’s Kiritsubo-san!”

“Thank you. Yes—yes, I’m .?.?. thank you.”

“Why don’t you wave to Kiritsubo-san?”

She did as she was asked and called out her name. Kiri saw them and waved back.

After a moment, relaxed again and in control, Mariko said, “Thank you, Anjin-san. You’re very clever and very wise.” She greeted the captain casually and wandered to a ledge and sat down, first making sure that the seat was clean. “It’s going to be a fine day, neh?”

“Yes. How did you sleep?”

“I didn’t, Anjin-san. Kiri and I chatted the last of the night away and I saw the dawn come. I love dawns. You?”

“My rest was disturbed but—”

“Oh, so sorry.”

“I’m fine now—really. You’re leaving now?”

“Yes, but I’ll be back at noon to collect Kiri-san and the Lady Sazuko.” She turned her face away from the captain and said in Latin, “Thou. Remember the Inn of the Blossoms?”

“Assuredly. How could I forget?”

“If there is a delay .?.?. tonight will be thus—as perfect and as peace-filled.”

“Ah, that that could be possible. But I would prefer thee safely on thy way.”

Mariko continued in Portuguese. “Now I must go, Anjin-san. You will please excuse me?”

“I’ll take you to the gate.”

“No, please. Watch me from here. You and the captain can watch from here, neh?”

“Of course,” Blackthorne said at once, understanding. “Go with God.”

“And thee.”

He stayed on the parapet. While he waited sunlight fell into the forecourt, thrusting the shadows away. Mariko appeared below. He saw her greet Kiri and Yoshinaka and they chatted together, no enemy Grays near them. Then they bowed. She looked up at him, shading her eyes, and waved gaily. He waved back. The gates were pushed aside and, with Chimmoko a few discreet paces behind her, she walked out, accompanied by her escort of ten Browns. The gates swung closed once more. For a moment she was lost from view. When she reappeared, fifty Grays from the swarm outside their walls had surrounded them as a further honor guard. The cortege marched away down the sunless avenue. He watched her until she had turned the far corner. She never looked back.

“Go eat now, Captain,” he said.

“Yes, of course, Anjin-san.”

Blackthorne went to his own quarters and ate rice, pickled vegetables, and broiled chunks of fish, followed by early fruit from Kyushu—crisp small apples, apricots, and hard-fleshed plums. He savored the tart fruit and the cha.

“More, Anjin-san?” the servant asked.

“No, thank you.” He offered fruits to his guards and they were accepted gratefully, and when they had finished, he went back to the sunny battlements again. He would have liked to examine the priming of his concealed pistol but he thought it better not to draw attention to it. He had checked it once in the night as best he could under the sheet, under the mosquito net. But without actually seeing, he could not be sure of the tamping or the flint.

There’s nothing more you can do, he thought. You’re a puppet. Be patient, Anjin-san, your watch ends at noon.

He gauged the height of the sun. It will be the beginning of the two-hour period of the Snake. After the Snake comes the Horse. In the middle of the Horse is high noon.

Temple bells throughout the castle and the city tolled the beginning of the Snake and he was pleased with his accuracy. He noticed a small stone on the battlement floor. He went forward and picked up the stone and placed it carefully on a ledge of an embrasure in the sun, then leaned back once more, propping his feet comfortably, and stared at it.

Grays were watching his every movement. The captain frowned. After a while he said, “Anjin-san, what’s the significance of the stone?”

“Please?”

“The stone. Why stone, Anjin-san?”

“Ah! I watch stone grow.”

“Oh so sorry, I understand,” the captain replied apologetically. “Please excuse me for disturbing you.”

Blackthorne laughed to himself, and turned his gaze back to the stone. “Grow, you bastard,” he said. But as much as he cursed it, ordered it, or cajoled it, it would not grow.

Do you really expect to see a rock growing? he asked himself. No, of course not, but it passes the time and promotes tranquillity. You can’t have enough wa. Neh?

Eeeeee, where’s the next attack coming from? There’s no defense against an assassin if the assassin is prepared to die. Is there?