Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [475]
“No, Father, not for any amount of money. Nor even one for Nagasaki. Months ago Toranaga-sama ordered them all into his keeping.”
Alvito’s gloom deepened. “There must be someone with one! Pay anything that’s necessary. The heretic will wound us terribly, Michael.”
“Perhaps not, Father.”
“Why are they moving the ship? Of course for safety, but more to put it out of our reach. Why has Toranaga given the heretic two hundred wako and his bullion back? Of course to use as a strike force, and the specie’s to buy more pirates—gunners and seamen. Why give Blackthorne freedom? To harry us through the Black Ship. God help us, Toranaga’s forsaken us too!”
“We’ve forsaken him, Father.”
“There’s nothing we can do to help him! We’ve tried everything with the daimyos. We’re helpless.”
“Perhaps if we prayed harder, perhaps God would show us a way.”
“I pray and pray, but … perhaps God has forsaken us, Michael, rightly. Perhaps we’re not worthy of His mercy. I know I’m not.”
“Perhaps the Anjin-san won’t find gunners or seamen. Perhaps he’ll never arrive at Nagasaki.”
“His silver will buy him all the men he needs. Even Catholics—even Portuguese. Men foolishly think more about this world than the next. They won’t open their eyes. They sell their souls all too easily. Yes. I pray Blackthorne never arrives there. Or his emissaries. Don’t forget, there’s no need at all for him to go there. The men could be bought and brought to him. Come along, let’s go home now.” Dispiritedly, Alvito led the way toward the Jesuit Mission which was a mile or so westward, near the docks, behind one of the large warehouses that normally housed the season’s silks and rice and formed part of the market complex the Jesuits governed on behalf of buyer and seller.
They walked a while along the shore, then Alvito stopped and looked seaward again. Dawn was breaking. He could see nothing of the ships. “What chance of our message being delivered?” Yesterday, Michael had discovered that one of Blackthorne’s new vassals was a Christian. When the news had flared through the underground network of Yedo last night that something was going to happen with the Anjin-san and his ship, Alvito had hastily scrawled a ciphered message for dell’Aqua, giving all the latest news, and had begged the man to deliver it secretly if ever he reached Osaka.
“The message will arrive.” Brother Michael added quietly, “Our man knows he sails with the enemy.”
“May God watch him and give him strength and curse Uraga.” Alvito looked across at the younger man. “Why? Why did he become apostate?”
“He told you, Father,” Brother Michael said. “He wanted to be a priest—ordained in our Society. That wasn’t much to ask, for a proud servant of God.”
“He was too proud, Brother. God in His wisdom tempted him and found him wanting.”
“Yes. I pray I am not found wanting when my turn comes.”
Alvito wandered past their Mission toward the large plot of land that had been set aside by Toranaga for the cathedral that should soon rise from the earth to the glory of God. The Jesuit could already see it in his mind, tall, majestic yet delicate, dominating the city, peerless bells cast in Macao or Goa or even Portugal ringing the changes, the vast bronze doors ever wide to the faithful nobility. He could smell the incense and hear the sound of the Latin chants.
But war will destroy that dream, he told himself. War will come again to plague this land and it will be as it ever was.
“Father!” Brother Michael whispered, cautioning him.
A woman was ahead of them, looking at the beginning foundations that already were marked out and partially dug. Beside her were two maids. Alvito waited motionlessly, peering in the half-light. The woman was veiled and richly dressed. Then Brother Michael moved slightly. His foot touched a stone and sent it clattering against an iron shovel, unseen in the gloaming. The woman turned, startled. Alvito recognized her.
“Mariko-san? It’s me—Father Alvito.”
“Father?