Shōgun

You can’t be too careful in this world, Rodrigues thought. Is there any harm in his knowing that you’re pilot of the Nao del Trato, this year’s great Black Ship from Macao? Perhaps. Because then you’d have to explain that she’s a leviathan, one of the richest, biggest ships in the world, more than sixteen hundred tons. You might be tempted to tell him about her cargo, about trade and about Macao and all sorts of illuminating things that are very, very private and very, very secret. But we are at war, us against the English and Dutch.

He opened the well-oiled lock and took out his private rutter to check some bearings for the nearest haven and his eyes saw the sealed packet the priest, Father Sebastio, had given him just before they had left Anjiro.

Does it contain the Englishman’s rutters? he asked himself again.

He weighed the package and looked at the Jesuit seals, sorely tempted to break them and see for himself. Blackthorne had told him that the Dutch squadron had come by way of Magellan’s Pass and little else. The Ingeles asks lots of questions and volunteers nothing, Rodrigues thought. He’s shrewd, clever, and dangerous.

Are they his rutters or aren’t they? If they are, what good are they to the Holy Fathers?

He shuddered, thinking of Jesuits and Franciscans and Dominicans and all monks and all priests and the Inquisition. There are good priests and bad priests and they’re mostly bad, but they’re still priests. The Church has to have priests and without them to intercede for us we’re lost sheep in a Satanic world. Oh, Madonna, protect me from all evil and bad priests!

Rodrigues had been in his cabin with Blackthorne in Anjiro harbor when the door had opened and Father Sebastio had come in uninvited. They had been eating and drinking and the remains of their food was in the wooden bowls.

“You break bread with heretics?” the priest had asked. “It’s dangerous to eat with them. They’re infectious. Did he tell you he’s a pirate?”

“It’s only Christian to be chivalrous to your enemies, Father. When I was in their hands they were fair to me. I only return their charity.” He had knelt and kissed the priest’s cross. Then he had got up and, offering wine, he said, “How can I help you?”

“I want to go to Osaka. With the ship.”

“I’ll ask them at once.” He had gone and had asked the captain and the request had gradually gone up to Toda Hiro-matsu, who replied that Toranaga had said nothing about bringing a foreign priest from Anjiro so he regretted he could not bring the foreign priest from Anjiro.

Father Sebastio had wanted to talk privately so he had sent the Englishman on deck and then, in the privacy of the cabin, the priest had brought out the sealed package.

“I would like you to deliver this to the Father-Visitor.”

“I don’t know if his Eminence’ll still be at Osaka when I get there.” Rodrigues did not like being a carrier of Jesuit secrets. “I might have to go back to Nagasaki. My Captain-General may have left orders for me.”

“Then give it to Father Alvito. Make absolutely sure you put it only in his hands.”

“Very well,” he had said.

“When were you last at Confession, my son?”

“On Sunday, Father.”

“Would you like me to confess you now?”

“Yes, thank you.” He was grateful that the priest had asked, for you never knew if your life depended on the sea, and, afterwards, he had felt much better as always.

Now in the cabin, Rodrigues put back the package, greatly tempted. Why Father Alvito? Father Martin Alvito was chief trade negotiator and had been personal interpreter for the Taikō for many years and therefore an intimate of most of the influential daimyos. Father Alvito plied between Nagasaki and Osaka and was one of the very few men, and the only European, who had had access to the Taikō at any time—an enormously clever man who spoke perfect Japanese and knew more about them and their way of life than any man in Asia. Now he was the Portuguese’s most influential mediator to the Council of Regents, and to Ishido and Toranaga in particular.

Trust the Jesuits to get one of their men into such a vital position, Rodrigues thought with awe. Certainly if it hadn’t been for the Society of Jesus the flood of heresy would never have been stopped, Portugal and Spain might have gone Protestant, and we’d have lost our immortal souls forever. Madonna!

“Why do you think about priests all the time?” Rodrigues asked himself aloud. “You know it makes you nervous!” Yes. Even so, why Father Alvito? If the package contains the rutters, is the package meant for one of the Christian daimyos, or Ishido or Toranaga, or just for his Eminence, the Father-Visitor himself? Or for my Captain-General? Or will the rutters be sent to Rome, for the Spaniards? Why Father Alvito? Father Sebastio could have easily said to give it to one of the other Jesuits.

And why does Toranaga want the Ingeles?