Shogun

"Ah, Anjin-san." Yabu came to join them. "Good, neh?" He motioned at the devastation.

"Bad, Yabu-sama."

"It's enemy, neh?"

"People are not enemy. Only Ishido and samurai enemy, neh?"

"The castle is enemy," Yabu replied, reflecting his disquiet, and that of all those aboard. "Here everything is enemy."

Blackthorne watched Yabu move to the bow, the wind whipping his kimono away from his hard torso.

Vinck dropped his voice. "I want to kill that bastard, Pilot."

"Yes. I've not forgotten about old Pieterzoon either, don't worry."

"Nor me, God be my judge! Beats me how you talk their talk. What'd he say?"

"He was just being polite."

"What's the plan?"

"We dock and wait. He goes off for a day or two and we keep our heads down and wait. Toranaga said he'd send messages for the safe conducts we'd need but even so, we're going to keep our heads down and stay aboard." Blackthorne scanned the shipping and the waters for dangers but found none. Still, he said to Vinck, "Better call the fathoms now, just in case!"

"Aye!"

Yabu watched Vinck swinging the lead for a moment, then strolled back to Blackthorne. "Anjin-san, perhaps you'd better take the galley and go on to Nagasaki. Don't wait, eh?"

"All right," Blackthorne said agreeably, not rising to the bait.

Yabu laughed. "I like you, Anjin-san! But so sorry, alone you'll soon die. Nagasaki's very bad for you."

"Osaka bad - everywhere bad!"

"Karma." Yabu smiled again. Blackthorne pretended to share the joke.

They had had variations of the same conversation many times during the voyage. Blackthorne had learned much about Yabu. He hated him even more, distrusted him even more, respected him more, and knew their karmas were interlocked.

"Yabu-san's right, Anjin-san," Uraga had said. "He can protect you at Nagasaki, I cannot."

"Because of your uncle, Lord Harima?"

"Yes. Perhaps I'm already declared outlaw, neh? My uncle's Christian - though I think a rice Christian."

"What's that?"

"Nagasaki is his fief. Nagasaki has great harbor on the coast of Kyushu but not the best. So he quickly sees the light, neh? He becomes Christian, and orders all his vassals Christian. He ordered me Christian and into the Jesuit School, and then had me sent as one of the Christian envoys to the Pope. He gave land to the Jesuits and - how would you say it - fawns on them. But his heart is only Japanese."

"Do the Jesuits know what you think?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do they believe that about rice Christians?"

"They don't tell us, their converts, what they truly believe, Anjin-san. Or even themselves most times. They are trained to have secrets, to use secrets, to welcome them, but never to reveal them. In that they're very Japanese."

"You'd better stay here in Osaka, Uraga-san."

"Please excuse me, Sire, I am your vassal. If you go to Nagasaki, I go."

Blackthorne knew that Uraga was becoming an invaluable aid. The man was revealing so many Jesuit secrets: the how and why and when of their trade negotiations, their internal workings and incredible international machinations. And he was equally informative about Harima and Kiyama and how the Christian daimyos thought, and why, probably, they would stay sided with lshido. God, I know so much now that'd be priceless in London, he thought, and so much still to learn. How can I pass on the knowledge? For instance that China's trade, just in silk to Japan, is worth ten million in gold a year, and that, even now, the Jesuits have one of their professed priests at the Court of the Emperor of China in Peking, honored with courtly rank, a confidant of the rulers, speaking Chinese perfectly. If only I could send a letter - if only I had an envoy.

In return for all the knowledge Blackthorne began to teach Uraga about navigation, about the great religious schism, and about Parliament. Also he taught him and Yabu how to fire a gun. Both were apt pupils. Uraga's a good man, he thought. No problem. Except he's ashamed of his lack of a samurai queue. That'll soon grow.

There was a warning shout from the forepoop lookout.

"Anjin-san!" The Japanese captain was pointing ahead at an elegant cutter, oared by twenty men, that approached from the starboard quarter. At the masthead was Ishido's cipher. Alongside it was the cipher of the Council of Regents, the same that Nebara Jozen and his men had traveled under to Anjiro, to their deaths.

"Who is it?" Blackthorne asked, feeling a tension throughout the ship, all eyes straining into the distance.

"I can't see yet, so sorry," the captain said.

"Yabu-san?"

Yabu shrugged. "An official."

As the cutter came closer, Blackthorne saw an elderly man sitting under the aft canopy, wearing ornate ceremonial dress with the winged overmantle. He wore no swords. Surrounding him were Ishido's Grays.

The drum master ceased the beat to allow the cutter to come alongside. Men rushed to help the official aboard. A Japanese pilot jumped after him and after numerous bows took formal charge ,of the galley.