Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [381]
“I renounce the Christian God! I’m Japanese—I’m Shinto. My soul’s my own now. I’m not afraid,” Joseph shouted. “Yes, we’ve pride—unlike barbarians. We’re Japanese, we’re not barbarians. Even our peasants are not barbarians.”
Gravely Alvito made the sign of the cross as protection for all of them and fearlessly turned his back on the knife. “Let us pray together, Brothers. Satan is in our midst.”
The others also turned away, many sadly, some still in shock. Only Michael remained where he was, looking at Joseph. Joseph ripped off his rosary and cross. He was going to hurl it away but Michael held out his hand again. “Please, Brother, please give it to me—it is such a simple gift,” he said.
Joseph looked at him a long moment, then he gave it to him. “Please excuse me.”
“I will pray for you,” Michael said.
“Didn’t you hear? I’ve renounced God!”
“I will pray that God will not renounce you, Uraga-noh-Tadamasasan.”
“Forgive me, Brother,” Joseph said. He stuck the knife in his sash, jerked the door open, and walked blindly along the corridor out onto the veranda. People watched him curiously, among them Uo the fisherman, who was waiting patiently in the shadows. Joseph crossed the courtyard and went toward the gate. A samurai stood in his way.
“Halt!”
Joseph stopped.
“Where are you going, please?”
“I’m sorry, please excuse me, I—I don’t know.”
“I serve Lord Toranaga. So sorry, I couldn’t help hearing what went on in there. The whole inn must have heard. Shocking bad manners … shocking for your leader to shout like that and disturb the peace. And you too. I’m on duty here. I think it’s best you see the officer of my watch.”
“I think—thank you, I’ll go the other way. Please excuse—”
“You’ll go nowhere, so sorry. Except to see my officer.”
“What? Oh—yes. Yes, I’m sorry, of course.” Joseph tried to make his brain work.
“Good. Thank you.” The samurai turned as another samurai approached from the bridge and saluted.
“I’m to fetch the Tsukku-san for Lord Toranaga.”
“Good. You’re expected.”
CHAPTER 43
Toranaga watched the tall priest approach across the clearing, the flickering light of the torches making the lean face starker than usual above the blackness of his beard. The priest’s orange Buddhist robe was elegant and a rosary and cross hung at his waist.
Ten paces away Father Alvito stopped, knelt, and bowed deferentially, beginning the customary formalities.
Toranaga was sitting alone on the dais, guards in a semicircle around him, well out of hearing. Only Blackthorne was nearby and he lolled against the platform as he had been ordered, his eyes boring into the priest. Alvito appeared not to notice him.
“It is good to see you, Sire,” Father Alvito said when it was polite to do so.
“And to see you, Tsukku-san.” Toranaga motioned the priest to make himself comfortable on the cushion that had been placed on a tatami on the ground in front of the platform. “It’s a long time since I saw you.”
“Yes, Sire, there’s much to tell.” Alvito was deeply conscious that the cushion was on the earth and not on the dais. Also, he was acutely aware of the samurai swords that Blackthorne now wore so near to Toranaga and the way he slouched with such indifference. “I bring a confidential message from my superior, the Father-Visitor, who greets you with deference.”
“Thank you. But first, tell me about you.”
“Ah, Sire,” Alvito said, knowing that Toranaga was far too discerning not to have noticed the remorse that beset him, much as he had tried to throw it off. “Tonight I’m too aware of my own failings. Tonight I’d like to be allowed to put off my earthly duties and go into a retreat to pray, to beg for God’s favor.” He was shamed by his own lack of humility. Although Joseph’s sin had been terrible, Alvito had acted with haste and anger and stupidity. It was his fault that a soul had been outcast, to be lost forever. “Our Lord once said, ‘Please, Father, let this cup pass from me.’ But even He had to retain the cup. We, in the world, we have to try to follow in His