Shōgun

What does that matter to you, Tsukku-san? It is enough that I did. And no one the wiser, except me, a few trusted men, and the arsonist. Him? Ishido used ninja, why shouldn’t I? But I hired one man and succeeded. Ishido failed.

“Stupid to fail,” he said aloud.

“Sire?” Alvito asked.

“Stupid to fail to bottle up such an incendiary secret as smuggled muskets,” he said gruffly, “and to incite Christian daimyos into rebellion against their liege lord, the Taikō. Neh?”

“Yes, Sire. If it’s true.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s true, Tsukku-san.” Toranaga let the conversation lapse now that Tsukku-san was clearly agitated and ready to be a perfect interpreter.

They were down by the shore now and Toranaga led, sure-footed in the semidarkness, brushing his weariness aside. As they passed the heads on the shore he saw Tsukku-san cross himself in fear and he thought, how stupid to be so superstitious—and to be afraid of nothing.

The Anjin-san’s vassals were already on their feet, bowing, long before he arrived. The Anjin-san was not. The Anjin-san was still sitting staring bleakly out to sea.

“Anjin-san,” Toranaga called out gently.

“Yes, Sire?” Blackthorne came out of his reverie and got to his feet. “Sorry, you want talk now?”

“Yes. Please. I bring Tsukku-san because I want talk clearly. Understand? Quick and clear?”

“Yes.” Toranaga saw the fixity of the man’s eyes in the light of the flares and his utter exhaustion. He glanced at Tsukku-san. “Does he understand what I said?” He watched the priest talk, and listened to the evil-sounding language. The Anjin-san nodded, his accusatory gaze never faltering.

“Yes, Sire,” the priest said.

“Now interpret for me, please, Tsukku-san, as before. Everything exact: Listen, Anjin-san, I’ve brought Tsukku-san so we can talk directly and quickly without missing the meaning of any word. It’s so important to me that I ask your patience. I think it’s best this way.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Tsukku-san, first swear before your Christian God nothing he says will ever pass your lips to another. Like a confessional. Neh? As sacred! To me and to him.”

“But Sire, this isn’t—”

“This you will do. Now. Or I will withdraw all my support, forever, from you and your Church.”

“Very well, Sire. I agree. Before God.”

“Good. Thank you. Explain to him your agreement.” Alvito obeyed, then Toranaga settled himself on the sand dunes and waved his fan against the encroaching night bugs. “Now, please tell me, Anjin-san, what happened at Osaka.”

Blackthorne began haltingly, but gradually his mind began to relive it all and soon the words gushed and Father Alvito had difficulty in keeping up. Toranaga listened in silence, never interrupting the flow, just adding cautious encouragement when needed, the perfect listener.

Blackthorne finished at dawn. By then Toranaga knew everything there was to tell—everything the Anjin-san was prepared to tell, he corrected himself. The priest knew it also but Toranaga was sure there was nothing in it the Catholics or Kiyama could use against him or against Mariko or against the Anjin-san, who, by now, hardly noticed the priest.

“You’re sure the Captain-General would have put you to the stake, Anjin-san?” he asked again.

“Oh, yes. If it hadn’t been for the Jesuit. I’m a heretic in his eyes—fire’s supposed to ‘cleanse’ your soul somehow.”

“Why did the Father-Visitor save you?”

“I don’t know. It was something to do with Mariko-sama. Without my ship I can’t touch them. Oh, they would have thought of that themselves but perhaps she gave them a clue how to do it.”

“What clue? What would she know about burning ships?”

“I don’t know. Ninja got into the castle. Perhaps ninja got through the men here. My ship was sabotaged. She saw the Father-Visitor at the castle the day she died. I think she told him how to burn Erasmus—in return for my life. But I have no life without my ship, Sire. None.”

“You’re wrong, Anjin-san. Thank you, Tsukku-san,” Toranaga said in dismissal. “Yes, I appreciate your labor. Please get some rest now.”

“Yes, Sire. Thank you.” Alvito hesitated. “I apologize for the Captain-General. Men are born in sin, most stay in sin though they’re Christians.”

“Christians are born in sin, we’re not. We’re a civilized people who understand what sin really is, not illiterate peasants who know no better. Even so, Tsukku-san, if I’d been your Captain-General I would not have let the Anjin-san go while I had him in my grasp. It was a military decision, a good one. I think he’ll live to regret he didn’t insist—and so will your Father-Visitor.”

“Do you want me to translate that, Sire?”

“That was for your ears. Thank you for your help.” Toranaga returned the priest’s salutation and sent men to accompany him back to his house, then turned to Blackthorne. “Anjin-san. First swim.”

“Sire?”