Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [385]
“Then I shall lose,” Toranaga said. “You know that, don’t you? If they stand allied with Ishido, all the Christian daimyos will side with him. Then I have to lose. Twenty samurai against one of mine. Neh?”
“Yes.”
“What’s their plan? When will they attack me?”
“I don’t know, Sire.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Yes—yes I would.”
I doubt it, Toranaga thought, and looked away into the night, the burden of his worry almost crushing him. Is it to be Crimson Sky after all, he asked himself helplessly? The stupid, bound-to-fail lunge at Kyoto?
He hated the shameful cage that he was in. Like the Taikō and Goroda before him, he had to tolerate the Christian priests because the priests were as inseparable from the Portuguese traders as flies from a horse, holding absolute temporal and spiritual power over their unruly flock. Without the priests there was no trade. Their good will as negotiators and middle men in the Black Ship operation was vital because they spoke the language and were trusted by both sides, and, if ever the priests were completely forbidden the Empire, all barbarians would obediently sail away, never to return. He remembered the one time the Taikō had tried to get rid of the priests yet still encourage trade. For two years there was no Black Ship. Spies reported how the giant chief of the priests, sitting like a poisonous black spider in Macao, had ordered no more trade in reprisal for the Taikō’s Expulsion Edicts, knowing that at length the Taikō must humble himself. In the third year he had bowed to the inevitable and invited the priests back, turning a blind eye to his own Edicts and to the treason and rebellion the priests had advocated.
There’s no escape from that reality, Toranaga thought. None. I don’t believe what the Anjin-san says—that trade is as essential to barbarians as it is to us, that their greed will make them trade, no matter what we do to the priests. The risk is too great to experiment and there’s no time and I don’t have the power. We experimented once and failed. Who knows? Perhaps the priests could wait us out ten years; they’re ruthless enough. If the priests order no trade, I believe there will be no trade. We could not wait ten years. Even five years. And if we expel all barbarians it must take twenty years for the English barbarian to fill up the gap, if the Anjin-san is telling the whole truth and if—and it is an immense if—if the Chinese would agree to trade with them against the Southern Barbarians. I don’t believe the Chinese will change their pattern. They never have. Twenty years is too long. Ten years is too long.
There’s no escape from that reality. Or the worst reality of all, the specter that secretly petrified Goroda and the Taikō and is now rearing its foul head again: that the fanatical, fearless Christian priests, if pushed too far, will put all their influence and their trading power and sea power behind one of the great Christian daimyos. Further, they would engineer an invasion force of iron-clad, equally fanatic conquistadores armed with the latest muskets to support this one Christian daimyo—like they almost did the last time. By themselves, any number of invading barbarians and their priests are no threat against our overwhelming joint forces. We smashed the hordes of Kublai Khan and we can deal with any invader. But allied to one of our own, a great Christian daimyo with armies of samurai, and given civil wars throughout the realm, this could, ultimately, give this one daimyo absolute power over all of us.
Kiyama or Onoshi? It’s obvious now, that has to be the priest’s scheme. The timing’s perfect. But which daimyo?
Both, initially, helped by Harima of Nagasaki. But who’ll carry the final banner? Kiyama—because Onoshi the leper’s not long for this earth and Onoshi’s obvious reward