Shōgun

“The Taikō sneeringly dubbed him that: Ju-san Kubo, Shōgun of the Thirteen Days. His rebellion—from mustering his men to the great seppuku—lasted only thirteen days. He was a fine man but he hated us, not because we were Christians but because we were foreigners. I often wondered if Mariko became Christian just to learn our ways, to destroy us. He often said I poisoned Goroda against him.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“What was he like?”

“A short, bald man, very proud, a fine general and a poet of great note. So sad to end that way, all the Akechis. And now the last of them. Poor Mariko . . . but what she did saved Toranaga, if God wills it.” Alvito’s fingers touched his rosary. After a moment he said, “Also, Pilot, also before I go I want to apologize for . . . well, I’m glad the Father-Visitor was there to save you.”

“You apologize for my ship too?”

“Not for the Erasmus, though I had nothing to do with that. I apologize only for those men, Pesaro and the Captain-General. I’m glad your ship’s gone.”

“Shigata ga nai, Father. Soon I’ll have another.”

“What kind of craft will you try to build?”

“One big enough and strong enough.”

“To attack the Black Ship?”

“To sail home to England—and defend myself against anyone.”

“It will be a waste, all that labor.”

“There’ll be another ‘Act of God’?”

“Yes. Or sabotage.”

“If there is and my new ship fails, I’m going to build another, and if that fails, another. I’m going to build a ship or get a berth and when I get back to England I’m going to beg or borrow or buy or steal a privateer and then I’m coming back.”

“Yes. I know. That’s why you will never leave. You know too much, Anjin-san. I told you that before and I say it again, but with no malice. Truly. You’re a brave man, a fine adversary, one to respect, and I do, and there should be peace between us. We’re going to see a lot of each other over the years—if any of us survive the war.”

“Are we?”

“Yes. You’re too good at Japanese. Soon you’ll be Toranaga’s personal interpreter. We shouldn’t quarrel, you and I. I’m afraid our destinies are interlocked. Did Mariko-san tell you that, too? She told me.”

“No. She never said that. What else did she tell you?”

“She begged me to be your friend, to protect you if I could. Anjin-san, I didn’t come here to goad you, or to quarrel, but to ask a peace before I go.”

“Where are you going?”

“First to Nagasaki, by ship from Mishima. There are trade negotiations to conclude. Then to wherever Toranaga is, wherever the battle will be.”

“They’ll let you travel freely, in spite of the war?”

“Oh, yes. They need us—whoever wins. Surely we can be reasonable men, and make peace—you and I. I ask it because of Mariko-sama.”

Blackthorne said nothing for a moment. “Once we had a truce, because she wanted it. I’ll offer you that. A truce, not a peace—providing you agree not to come within fifty miles of where my shipyard is.”

“I agree, Pilot, of course I agree—but you’ve nothing to fear from me. A truce, then, in her memory.” Alvito put out his hand. “Thank you.”

Blackthorne shook the hand firmly. Then Alvito said, “Soon her funeral will take place at Nagasaki. It’s to be in the cathedral. The Father-Visitor will say the service himself, Anjin-san. Part of her ashes are to be entombed there.”

“That would please her.” Blackthorne watched the wreck for a moment, then looked back at Alvito. “One thing I . . . I didn’t mention to Toranaga: Just before she died I gave her a Benediction as a priest would, and the last rites as best I could. There was no one else and she was Catholic. I don’t think she heard me, I don’t know if she was conscious. And I did it again at her cremation. Would that—would that be the same? Would that be acceptable? I tried to do it before God, not mine or yours, but God.”

“No, Anjin-san. We are taught that it would not. But two days before she died she asked for and received absolution from the Father-Visitor and she was sanctified.”

“Then . . . then she knew all along she had to die . . . whatever happened, she was a sacrifice.”

“Yes, God bless her and cherish her!”

“Thank you for telling me,” Blackthorne said. “I’ve . . . I was always worried my intercession would never work, though I . . . Thank you for telling me.”

“Sayonara, Anjin-san,” Alvito said, offering his hand again.

“Sayonara, Tsukku-san. Please, light a candle for her . . . from me.”

“I will.”