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By Root 1922 0

knew that he would have to speak simply, preferably in short sentences, and be careful because, unlike the priest who interpreted simultaneously, this woman waited till he had finished, then gave a synopsis, or a version of what was said—the usual problem of all except the finest interpreters, though even they, as with the Jesuit, allowed their own personalities to influence what was said, voluntarily or involuntarily. The bath and massage and food and two hours of sleep had immeasurably refreshed him. The bath attendants, all women of girth and strength, had pummeled him and shampooed his hair, braiding it in a neat queue, and the barber had trimmed his beard. He had been given a clean loincloth and kimono and sash, and tabi and thongs for his feet. The futons on which he had slept had been so clean, like the room. It had all seemed dreamlike and, waking from dreamlessness, he had wondered momentarily which was the dream, this or the prison.

He had waited impatiently, hoping that he would be guided again to Toranaga, planning what to say and what to reveal, how to outwit Father Alvito and how to gain ascendance over him. And over Toranaga. For he knew, beyond all doubt, because of what Friar Domingo had told him about the Portuguese, and Japanese politics and trade, that he could now help Toranaga, who, in return, could easily give him the riches he desired.

And now, with no priest to fight, he felt even more confident. I need just a little luck and patience.

Toranaga was listening intently to the doll-like interpreter.

Blackthorne thought, I could pick her up with one hand and if I put both hands around her waist, my fingers would touch. How old would she be? Perfect! Married? No wedding ring. Ah, that’s interesting. She’s wearing no jewelry of any kind. Except the silver pins in her hair. Neither is the other woman, the fat one.

He searched his memory. The other two women in the village had worn no jewelry either, and he had not seen any on any of Mura’s household. Why?

And who’s the fat woman? Toranaga’s wife? Or the boy’s nursemaid? Would the lad be Toranaga’s son? Or grandson, perhaps? Friar Domingo had said that Japanese had only one wife at one time but as many consorts—legal mistresses—as they wished.

Was the interpreter Toranaga’s consort?

What would it be like to have such a woman in bed? I’d be afraid of crushing her. No, she wouldn’t break. There are women in England almost as small. But not like her.

The boy was small and straight and round-eyed, his full black hair tied into a short queue, his pate unshaven. His curiosity seemed enormous.

Without thinking, Blackthorne winked. The boy jumped, then laughed and interrupted Mariko and pointed and spoke out, and they listened indulgently and no one hushed him. When he had finished, Toranaga spoke briefly to Blackthorne.

“Lord Toranaga asks why did you do that, senhor?”

“Oh, just to amuse the lad. He’s a child like any, and children in my country would usually laugh if you did that. My son must be about his age now. My son’s seven.”

“The Heir is seven,” Mariko said after a pause, then translated what he had said.

“Heir? Does that mean the boy’s Lord Toranaga’s only son?” Blackthorne asked.

“Lord Toranaga has instructed me to say that you will please confine yourself to answering questions only, for the moment.” Then she added, “I’m sure, if you are patient, Pilot-Captain B’ackthon, that you’ll be given an opportunity to ask anything you wish later.”

“Very well.”

“As your name is very hard to say, senhor, for we do not have the sounds to pronounce it—may I, for Lord Toranaga, use your Japanese name, Anjin-san?”

“Of course.” Blackthorne was going to ask hers but he remembered what she had said and reminded himself to be patient.

“Thank you. My Lord asks, do you have any other children?”

“A daughter. She was born just before I left my home in England. So she’s about two now.”

“You have one wife or many?”

“One. That’s our custom. Like the Portuguese and Spanish. We don’t have consorts—formal consorts.”

“Is this your first wife, senhor?”

“Yes.