Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [579]
“You’re sure the Captain-General would have put you to the stake, Anjin-san?” he asked again.
“Oh, yes. If it hadn’t been for the Jesuit. I’m a heretic in his eyes—fire’s supposed to ‘cleanse’ your soul somehow.”
“Why did the Father-Visitor save you?”
“I don’t know. It was something to do with Mariko-sama. Without my ship I can’t touch them. Oh, they would have thought of that themselves but perhaps she gave them a clue how to do it.”
“What clue? What would she know about burning ships?”
“I don’t know. Ninja got into the castle. Perhaps ninja got through the men here. My ship was sabotaged. She saw the Father-Visitor at the castle the day she died. I think she told him how to burn Erasmus—in return for my life. But I have no life without my ship, Sire. None.”
“You’re wrong, Anjin-san. Thank you, Tsukku-san,” Toranaga said in dismissal. “Yes, I appreciate your labor. Please get some rest now.”
“Yes, Sire. Thank you,”Alvito hesitated. “I apologize for the Captain-General. Men are born in sin, most stay in sin though they’re Christians.”
“Christians are born in sin, we’re not. We’re a civilized people who understand what sin really is, not illiterate peasants who know no better. Even so, Tsukku-san, if I’d been your Captain-General I would not have let the Anjin-san go while I had him in my grasp. It was a military decision, a good one. I think he’ll live to regret he didn’t insist—and so will your Father-Visitor.”
“Do you want me to translate that, Sire?”
“That was for your ears. Thank you for your help.” Toranaga returned the priest’s salutation and sent men to accompany him back to his house, then turned to Blackthorne. “Anjin-san. First swim.”
“Sire?”
“Swim!” Toranaga stripped and went into the water in the growing light. Blackthorne and the guards followed. Toranaga swam strongly out to sea, then turned and circled the wreck. Blackthorne came after him, refreshed by the chill. Soon Toranaga returned ashore. Servants had towels ready now, fresh kimonos and cha, saké and food.
“Eat, Anjin-san.”
“So sorry, not hungry.”
“Eat!”
Blackthorne took a few mouthfuls, then retched. “So sorry.”
“Stupid. And weak. Weak like a Garlic Eater. Not like hatamoto. Neh?”
“Sire?”
Toranaga repeated it. Brutally. Then he pointed at the wreck, knowing that now he had Blackthorne’s full attention. “That’s nothing. Shigata ga nai. Unimportant. Listen: Anjin-san is hatamoto, neh? Not Garlic Eater. Understand?”
“Yes, so sorry.”
Toranaga beckoned his bodyguard, who handed him the sealed scroll. “Listen, Anjin-san, before Mariko-sama left Yedo, she gave me this. Mariko-sama say if you live after Osaka—if you live, understand—she ask me to give this to you.”
Blackthorne took the proffered scroll and, after a moment, broke the seal.
“What message say, Anjin-san?” Toranaga asked.
Mariko had written in Latin: “Thou. I love thee. If this is read by thee then I am dead in Osaka and perhaps, because of me, thy ship is dead too. I may sacrifice this most prized part of thy life because of my Faith, to safeguard my Church, but more to save thy life which is more precious to me than everything—even the interest of my Lord Toranaga. It may come to a choice, my love: thee or thy ship. So sorry, but I choose life for thee. This ship is doomed anyway—with or without thee. I will concede thy ship to thine enemy so that thou may live. This ship is nothing. Build another. This thou canst do—were you not taught to be a builder of ships as well as a navigator of ships? I believe Lord Toranaga will give thee all the craftsmen, carpenters, and metal craftsmen necessary—he needs you and your ships—and from my personal estate I have bequeathed thee all the money necessary. Build another ship and build another life, my love. Take next year’s Black Ship, and live forever. Listen, my dear one, my Christian soul prays to see thee again in a Christian heaven—my Japanese hara prays that in the next life