Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [154]
“Yes, it’s true, Captain-General,” Alvito said. “But I don’t understand why he’s still in the castle and has agreed to a delay in the meeting. It’s incredible that he seems to have been outmaneuvered. He must surely know that Osaka’s locked tighter than a jealous crusader’s chastity belt. He should have left days ago.”
Ferriera said, “If he’s vital, why support Onoshi and Kiyama? Haven’t those two sided with Ishido against him? Why don’t you advise them against it? It was discussed only two days ago.”
“They told us of their decision, Captain. We did not discuss it.”
“Then perhaps you should have, Eminence. If it’s so important, why not order them against it? With a threat of excommunication.”
Dell’Aqua sighed. “I wish it were so simple. You don’t do things like that in Japan. They abhor outside interference in their internal affairs. Even a suggestion on our part has to be offered with extreme delicacy.”
Ferriera drained his silver goblet and poured some more wine and calmed himself, knowing that he needed the Jesuits on his side, that without them as interpreters he was helpless. You’ve got to make this voyage successful, he told himself. You’ve soldiered and sweated eleven years in the service of the King to earn, rightfully—twenty times over—the richest prize in his power to give, the Captain-Generalship of the annual Black Ship for one year and the tenth part that goes with the honor, a tenth of all silk, of all gold, of all silver, and of all profit from each transaction. You’re rich for life now, for thirty lifetimes if you had them, all from this one single voyage. If you accomplish it.
Ferriera’s hand went to the haft of his rapier, to the silver cross that formed part of the silver filigree. “By the Blood of Christ, my Black Ship will sail on time from Macao to Nagasaki and then, the richest treasure ship in history, she’ll head south with the monsoon in November for Goa and thence home! As Christ is my judge, that’s what’s going to happen. And he added silently, if I have to burn all Japan and all Macao and all China to do it, by the Madonna!”
“Our prayers are with you, of course they are,” dell’Aqua replied, meaning it. “We know the importance of your voyage.”
“Then what do you suggest? Without port clearances and safe conducts to trade, I’m hamstrung. Can’t we avoid the Regents? Perhaps there’s another way?”
Dell’Aqua shook his head. “Martin? You’re our trade expert.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not possible,” Alvito said. He had listened to the heated exchange with simmering indignation. Foul-mannered, arrogant, motherless cretin, he had thought, then immediately, oh, God, give me patience, for without this man and others like him, the Church dies here. “I’m sure within a day or two, Captain-General, everything will be sealed. A week at the most. Toranaga has very special problems at the moment. It will be all right, I’m sure.”
“I’ll wait a week. No more.” The undercurrent of menace in Ferriera’s tone was frightening. “I’d like to get my hands on that heretic. I’d rack the truth out of him. Did Toranaga say anything about the supposed fleet? An enemy fleet?”
“No.”
“I’d like to know that truth, because inbound, my ship will be wallowing like a fat pig, her holds bulging with more silks than have ever been sent at one time. We’re one of the biggest ships in the world but I’ve no escort, so if a single enemy frigate were to catch us at sea—or that Dutch whore, the Erasmus—we’d be at her mercy. She’d make me haul down the Imperial flag of Portugal with no trouble at all. The Ingeles had better not get his ship to sea, with gunners and cannon and shot aboard.”
“E vero, è solamente vero,” dell’Aqua muttered.
Ferriera finished his wine. “When’s Blackthorne being sent to Izu?”
“Toranaga didn’t say,” Alvito replied. “I got the impression it would be soon.”
“Today?”
“I don’t know. Now the Regents meet in four days. I would imagine it would be after that.”
Dell’Aqua said heavily, “Blackthorne must not be interfered with. Neither he nor Toranaga.”
Ferriera