Shōgun

Because I still have eight more of these strange barbarians in reserve. Perhaps their collective knowledge will equal or exceed that of this single man. The important thing is to be back in Yedo as quickly as possible to prepare for the war, which cannot be avoided. Kiyama and Onoshi? Who knows if they’ll support me. Perhaps they will, perhaps not. But a plot of land and some promises are nothing in the balance if the Christian weight is on my side in forty days.

“It’s karma, Tsukku-san. Neh?”

“Yes, Sire.” Alvito glanced at the Captain-General, very satisfied. “Lord Toranaga suggests that nothing is done. It’s the will of God.”

“Is it?”

The drum on the galley began abruptly. The oars bit into the water with great strength.

“What, in the name of Christ, is he doing?” Ferriera bellowed.

And then, as they watched the galley pulling away from them, Toranaga’s pennant came fluttering down from the masthead.

Rodrigues said, “Looks like they’re telling every God-cursed fishing boat in the harbor that Lord Toranaga’s no longer aboard.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?” Ferriera asked.

“No. But if I was him I’d head for sea and leave us in the cesspit—or try to. The Ingeles has put the finger on us now. What’s it to be?”

“You’re ordered to Yedo.” The Captain-General wanted to add, if you ram the galley all the better, but he didn’t. Because Mariko was listening.

The priests thankfully went ashore in the longboat.

“All sails ho!” Rodrigues shouted, his leg paining and throbbing. “Sou’ by sou’west! All hands lay to!”

“Senhora, please tell Lord Toranaga he’d best go below. It’ll be safer,” Ferriera said.

“He thanks you and says he will stay here.”

Ferriera shrugged, went to the edge of the quarterdeck. “Prime all cannon. Load grape! Action stations!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Isogi!” Blackthorne shouted, urging the oarsmaster to increase the beat. He looked aft at the frigate that was bearing down on them, close-hauled now under full sail, then for’ard again, estimating the next tack that she must use. He wondered if he had judged right, for there was very little sea room here near the cliffs, barely a few yards between disaster and success. Because of the wind, the frigate had to tack to make the harbor mouth, while the galley could maneuver at its whim. But the frigate had the advantage of speed. And on the last tack Rodrigues had made it clear that the galley had better stay out of the way when the Santa Theresa needed sea room.

Yabu was chattering at him again but he paid no heed. “Don’t understand—wakarimasen, Yabu-san! Listen, Toranaga-sama said, me, Anjin-san, ichiban ima! I’m chief Captain-san now! Wakarimasu ka, Yabu-san?” He pointed the course on the compass to the Japanese captain, who gesticulated at the frigate, barely fifty yards aft now, overtaking them rapidly on another collision path.

“Hold your course, by God!” Blackthorne said, the breeze cooling his seasodden clothes, which chilled him but helped to clear his head. He checked the sky. No clouds were near the bright moon and the wind was fair. No danger there, he thought. God keep the moon bright till we’re through.

“Hey, Captain!” he called out in English, knowing it made no difference if he spoke English or Portuguese or Dutch or Latin because he was alone. “Send someone for saké! Saké! Wakarimasu ka?”

“Hai, Anjin-san.”

A seaman was sent scurrying. As the man ran he looked over his shoulder, frightened by the size of the approaching frigate and her speed. Blackthorne held their course, trying to force the frigate to turn before she had gained all space to windward. But she never wavered and came directly at him. At the last second he swung out of her way and then, when her bowsprit was almost over their aft deck, he heard Rodrigues’ order, “Bear on the larboard tack! Let go stays’ls, and steady as she goes!” Then a shout at him in Spanish, “Thy mouth in the devil’s arse, Ingeles!”

“Thy mother was there first, Rodrigues!”

Then the frigate peeled off the wind to scud now for the far shore, where she would have to turn again to reach into the wind and tack for this side once more before she could turn a last time again and make for the harbor mouth.

For an instant the ships were so close that he could almost touch her, Rodrigues, Toranaga, Mariko, and the Captain-General swaying on the quarterdeck. Then the frigate was away and they were twisting in her wash.

“Isogi, isogi, by God!”

The rowers redoubled their efforts and with signs Blackthorne ordered more men on the oars until there were no reserves. He had to get to the mouth before the frigate or they were lost.

The galley was eating up the distance. But so was the frigate. At the far side of the harbor she spun like a dancer and he saw that Rodrigues had added tops’ls and topgallants.

“He’s as canny a bastard as any Portuguese born!”