Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [571]
“Ah, you say it was sabotage?”
“There’s no evidence, Sire, but a tidal wave and simple fire seem too easy an explanation. Certainly any fire should have been doused. Again I apologize.”
“I accept your apologies but, meanwhile, please tell me how I replace that ship. I need that ship!”
Yabu could feel acid in his stomach. “Yes, Sire. I know. So sorry, it cannot be replaced, but the Anjin-san told us during the voyage that soon other fighting ships from his country will come here.”
“How soon?”
“He doesn’t know, Sire.”
“A year? Ten years? I’ve barely got ten days.”
“So sorry, I wish I knew. Perhaps you should ask him, Sire.”
Toranaga looked directly at Blackthorne for the first time. The tall man was standing alone, the light gone from his face. “Anjin-san!”
“Yes, Sire?”
“Bad, neh? Very bad.” Toranaga pointed at the wreck below. “Neh?”
“Yes, very bad, Sire.”
“How soon other ships come?”
“My ships, Sire?”
“Yes.”
“When—when Buddha says.”
“Tonight we talk. Go now. Thank you for Osaka. Yes. Go to galley—or village. Talk tonight. Understand?”
“Yes. Talk tonight, yes, understand, Sire. Thank you. When tonight, please?”
“I’ll send a messenger. Thank you for Osaka.”
“My duty, neh? But I do little. Toda Mariko-sama give everything. Everything for Toranaga-sama.”
“Yes.” Gravely Toranaga returned the bow. The Anjin-san began to leave, but stopped. Toranaga glanced at the far end of the plateau. Tsukku-san and his acolytes had just ridden in and were dismounting there. He had not granted the priest an interview at Mishima—though he had sent word to him at once about the ship’s destruction—and had deliberately kept him waiting, pending the outcome of Osaka and the safe arrival of the galley at Anjiro. Only then had he decided to bring the priest here with him to allow the confrontation to happen, at the right time.
Blackthorne began to head for the priest.
“No, Anjin-san. Later, not now. Now go village!” he ordered.
“But, Sire! That man kill my ship! He’s the enemy!”
“You will go there!” Toranaga pointed to the village below. “You will wait there please. Tonight we will talk.”
“Sire, please, that man—”
“No. You will go to the galley,” Toranaga said. “You will go now. Please.” This is better than breaking any falcon to the fist, he thought excitedly, momentarily distracted, putting his will to bear on Blackthorne. It’s better because the Anjin-san’s just as wild and dangerous and unpredictable, always an unknown quantity, unique, unlike any man I’ve ever known.
From the corner of his eyes he noticed Buntaro had moved into the Anjin-san’s path, ready and anxious to force obedience. How foolish, Toranaga thought in passing, and so unnecessary. He kept his eyes on Blackthorne. And dominated him.
“Yes. Go now, Lord Toranaga. So sorry. Go now,” Blackthorne said. He wiped the sweat off his face and started to go.
“Thank you, Anjin-san,” Toranaga said. He did not allow his triumph to show. He watched Blackthorne obediently walk away—violent, strong, murderous, but controlled now by the will of Toranaga.
Then he changed his mind. “Anjin-san!” he called out, deciding it was time to release the jesses and let the killer fly free. The final test. “Listen, go there if you wish. I think it better not to kill the Tsukku-san. But if you want to kill him—kill. Better not to kill.” He said it slowly and carefully, and repeated it. “Wakarimasu ka?”
“Hai.”
Toranaga looked into the incredibly blue eyes that were filled with an unthinking animosity and he wondered if this wild bird, cast at its prey, would kill or not kill at his whim alone and return to the fist without eating. “Wakarimasu ka?”
“Hai.”
Toranaga waved his hand in dismissal. Blackthorne turned and stalked off northward. Toward the Tsukku-san. Buntaro moved out of his way. Blackthorne did not seem to notice anyone except the priest. The day seemed to become more sultry.
“So, Yabu-san. What’s be going to do?” Toranaga asked.