Shogun (147 page)

“Yes, but it’s not right we should be locked up and Lord Toranaga did give me orders that—”

“Those orders are mad! Devils must have taken possession of his head! You’ll have to apologize and back down. Now security’s going to be tighter than a gnat’s arsehole. Ishido will certainly cancel our permits to leave and you’ve ruined everything.” He looked across at Blackthorne. “Now what do we do?”

“Please?”

The three of them had just arrived in the main reception room of Mariko’s house that was within the outermost ring of fortifications. Grays had escorted them there and many more than usual were now stationed outside her gate. Kiri and the Lady Sazuko had gone to their own quarters with another “honor” guard of Grays, and Mariko had promised to join them after her meeting with Kiyama.

“But the guards won’t let you, Mariko-san,” Sazuko had said, distraught.

“Don’t worry,” she had said. “Nothing’s changed. Inside the castle we can move freely, though with escorts.”

“They’ll stop you! Oh, why did you—”

“Mariko-san’s right, child,” Kiri had said, unafraid. “Nothing’s changed. We’ll see you soon, Mariko-chan.” Then Kiri had led the way inside their castle wing and Browns had closed the fortified gate and Mariko had breathed again and come to her own house with Yabu and Blackthorne.

Now she was remembering how, when she was standing there
alone, carrying the banner alone, she had seen Blackthorne’s right hand readying the throwing knife and she had become stronger because of it. Yes, Anjin-san, she thought. You’re the only one I knew I could count on. You were there when I needed you.

Her eyes went to Yabu, who sat cross-legged opposite her, grinding his teeth. That Yabu had taken a public stand in her support by following her out had surprised her. Because of his support, and because losing her own temper with him would achieve nothing, she dismissed his truculent insolence and began to play him. “Please excuse my stupidity, Yabu-sama,” she said, her voice now penitent and overlaid with tears. “Of course you’re right. So sorry, I’m just a stupid woman.”

“I agree! Stupid to oppose Ishido in his own nest,
neh?”

“Yes, so sorry, please excuse me. May I offer you saké or cha?” Mariko clapped her hands. At once the inner door opened and Chimmoko appeared, her hair disheveled, her face frightened and puffed from weeping. “Bring cha and saké for my guests. And food. And make yourself presentable! How dare you appear like that! What do you think this is, a peasant cottage? You shame me before Lord Kasigi!”

Chimmoko fled in tears.

“So sorry, Sire. Please excuse her insolence.”

“Eh, that’s unimportant,
neh?
What about Ishido? Eeeee Lady … your shaft about ‘peasant,’ that hit the mark, that hurt the mighty Lord General. You’ve made such an enemy there now! Eeeeee, that took his Fruit and squeezed them before everyone!”

“Oh, do you think so? Oh, please excuse me, I didn’t mean to insult
him.”

“Eh, he
is
a peasant, always has been, always will be, and he’s always hated those of us who are real samurai.”

“Oh, how clever of you, Lord, to know that. Oh, thank you for telling me.” Mariko bowed and appeared to brush away a tear and added, “May I please say that I feel so protected now—your strength…. If it hadn’t been for you, Lord Kasigi, I think I would have fainted.”

“Stupid to attack Ishido in front of everyone,” Yabu said, slightly mollified.

“Yes. You’re right. It’s such a pity all our leaders aren’t as strong and as clever as you, Sire, then Lord Toranaga wouldn’t be in such trouble.”

“I agree. But you’ve still put us into a latrine up to our noses.”

“Please excuse me. Yes, it’s all my fault.” Mariko pretended to hold back tears bravely. She looked down and whispered, “Thank you, Sire, for accepting my apologies. You’re so generous.”

Yabu nodded, believing the praise merited, her servility necessary, and himself peerless. She apologized again, and soothed and cajoled him. Soon he was pliant. “May I please explain my stupidity to the Anjin-san? Perhaps he can suggest a way out of….” She let her words fade away penitently.

“Yes. Very well.”

Mariko bowed her grateful thanks, turned to Blackthorne, and spoke in Portuguese. “Please listen, Anjin-san, listen and don’t ask questions for the moment. So sorry, but first I had to calm this ill-tempered baasterd—is that how you say it?” Quickly she told him what had been said, and why Ochiba had hurried off.

“That’s bad,” he said, his gaze searching her. “Neh?”

“Yes. Lord Yabu asks for your counsel. What should be done to overcome the mess my stupidity’s put you both into?”

“What stupidity?” Blackthorne was watching her and her disquiet increased. She looked down at the mats. He spoke directly to Yabu. “Don’t know yet. Sire. Now understand—now think.”

Yabu replied sourly, “What’s there to think about? We’re locked in.”

Mariko translated without looking up.

“That’s true, isn’t it, Mariko-san?” Blackthorne said. “That’s always been true.”

“Yes, so sorry.”

He turned away to stare into the night. Flares were placed in brackets on the stone walls that surrounded the front garden. Light flickered off the leaves and plants that had been watered for just that purpose. Westward was the iron-banded gate, guarded by a few Browns.

“Thou,” she heard him say, without turning back. “I must speak with thee in private.”

“Thou. Yes and I to thee,” she replied, keeping her face from Yabu, also not trusting herself. “Tonight I will find thee.” She looked up at Yabu. “The Anjin-san agrees with you, Sire, about my stupidity, so sorry.”

“But what’s the good of that now?”

“Anjin-san,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact, “later tonight I’m going to Kiritsubo-san. I know where your quarters are. I’ll find you.”

“Yes. Thank you.” He still kept his back to her.

“Yabu-sama,” she said humbly, “tonight I’m going to Kiritsubo-san. She’s wise—perhaps she’ll have a solution.”

“There’s only one solution,” Yabu said with a finality that unnerved her, his eyes coals. “Tomorrow you will apologize. And you will stay.”

Kiyama arrived punctually. Saruji was with him and her heart sank.

When the formal greetings were completed, Kiyama said gravely, “Now, please explain why, Mariko-chan.”

“There’s no war, Sire. We shouldn’t be confined—nor treated as hostages—so I can go as I please.”

“You don’t have to be at war to have hostages. You know that. The Lady Ochiba was hostage in Yedo against your master’s safety here and no one was at war. Lord Sudara and his family are hostage with his brother today, and they’re not at war.
Neh?”

She kept her eyes lowered.

“There are many here who are hostages against the dutiful obedience of their lords to the Council of Regents, the legal rulers of the realm. That’s wise. It’s an ordinary custom.
Neh?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Good. Now please tell me the real reason.”

“Sire?”

Kiyama said testily. “Don’t play games with me! I’m no peasant either! I want to know why you did what you did tonight.”

Mariko raised her eyes. “So sorry, but the Lord General simply annoyed me with his arrogance, Sire. I do have orders. There’s no harm in taking Kiri and Lady Sazuko away for a few days to meet our Master.”

“You know very well that’s impossible. Lord Toranaga must know that as well.”

“So sorry, but my Master gave me orders. A samurai doesn’t question his lord’s orders.”

“Yes. But I question them because they’re nonsense. Your master doesn’t deal in nonsense, or make mistakes. And I insist I have the right to question you as well.”

“Please excuse me, Sire, there’s nothing to discuss.”

“But there is. There’s Saruji to discuss. Also the fact that I’ve known you all your life, have honored you all your life. Hiro-matsu-sama is my oldest living friend and your father was a cherished
friend and an honored ally of mine, until the last fourteen days of his life.”

“A samurai doesn’t question the orders of a liege lord.”

“Now you can do only one of two things, Mariko-chan. You apologize and stay, or you try to leave. If you try to leave you will be stopped.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“You will apologize tomorrow. I will call a meeting of the Regents and they will give a ruling about this whole matter. Then you will be allowed to go with Kiritsubo and the Lady Sazuko.”

“Please excuse me, how long will that take?”

“I don’t know. A few days.”

“So sorry, I don’t have a few days, I am ordered to leave at once.”

“Look at me!” She obeyed. “I, Kiyama Ukon-noh-Odanaga, Lord of Higo, Satsuma, and Osumi, a Regent of Japan, from the line Fujimoto, chief Christian
daimyo
of Japan, I
ask
you to stay.”

“So sorry. My liege Lord forbids me to stay.”

“Don’t you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes, Sire. But I have no choice, please excuse me.”

He motioned toward her son. “The betrothal between my granddaughter and Saruji … I can hardly allow this to go forward if you’re disgraced.”

“Yes, yes, Sire,” Mariko replied, misery in her eyes. “I understand that.” She saw the desperation in the boy. “So sorry, my son. But I must do my duty.”

Saruji started to say something but changed his mind and then, after a moment, he said, “Please excuse me Mother but isn’t … isn’t your duty to the Heir more important than your duty to Lord Toranaga? The Heir’s our real liege lord,
neh?”

She thought about that. “Yes, my son. And no. Lord Toranaga has jurisdiction over me, the Heir does not.”

“Then doesn’t that mean Lord Toranaga has jurisdiction over the Heir, too?”

“No, so sorry.”

“Please excuse me, Mother, I don’t understand, but it seems to me if the Heir gives an order, he must overrule our Lord Toranaga.”

She did not reply.

“Answer him,” Kiyama barked.

“Was that your thought, my son? Or did someone put it into your head?”

Saruji frowned, trying to remember. “We—Lord Kiyama and—and his Lady—we discussed it. And the Father-Visitor. I don’t remember. I think I thought of it myself. The Father-Visitor said I was correct, didn’t he, Sire?”

“He said the Heir is more important than Lord Toranaga in the realm. Legally. Please answer him directly, Mariko-san.”

Mariko said, “If the Heir was a man, of age, Kwampaku, legal ruler of this realm like the Taikō, his father was, then I would obey him over Lord Toranaga in this. But Yaemon’s a child, actually and legally, and therefore not capable. Legally. Does that answer you?”

“But—but he’s still the Heir,
neh?
The Regents listen to him—Lord Toranaga honors him. What’s … what’s a year, a few years mean, Mother? If you don’t apol—Please excuse me, but I’m afraid for you.” The youth’s mouth was trembling.

Mariko wanted to reach out and embrace him and protect him. But she did not. “I’m not afraid, my son. I fear nothing on this earth. I fear only God’s judgment,” she said, turning to Kiyama.

“Yes,” Kiyama said. “I know that. May the Madonna bless you for it.” He paused. “Mariko-san, will you apologize publicly to the Lord General?”

“Yes, gladly, providing he publicly withdraws all troops from my path and gives me, the Lady Kiritsubo, and the Lady Sazuko written permission to leave tomorrow.”

“Will you obey an order from the Regents?”

“Please excuse me, Sire, in this matter, no.”

“Will you honor a request from them?”

“Please excuse me, in this matter, no.”

“Will you agree to a request from the Heir and the Lady Ochiba?”

“Please excuse me, what request?”

“To visit them, to stay with them for a few days, while we resolve this affair.”

“Please excuse me, Sire, but what is there to resolve?”

Kiyama’s restraint broke and he shouted, “The future and good order of the realm for one thing, the future of the Mother Church for another, and you for another! It’s clear your close contact with the barbarian has infected you and addled your brain as I knew it would!”

Mariko said nothing, just stared back at him.

With an effort Kiyama brought himself back into control.

“Please excuse my … my temper. And my bad manners,” he
said stiffly. “My only excuse is that I’m gravely concerned.” He bowed with dignity. “I apologize.”

“It was my fault, Sire. Please excuse me for destroying your harmony and causing you trouble. But I have no alternative.”

“Your son’s given you one, I’ve given you several.”

She did not answer him.

The air in the room had become stifling for all of them although the night was cool and a breeze fanned the flares. “You’re resolved then?”

“I have no choice, Sire.”

“Very well, Mariko-san. There’s nothing more to be said. Other than to say again I order you not to force the issue—and I ask it.”

She bowed her head.

“Saruji-san, please wait for me outside,” Kiyama ordered.

The youth was distraught, barely able to speak. “Yes, Sire.” He bowed to Mariko. “Please excuse me, Mother.”

“May God keep you in His hands for all eternity.”

“And thou.”

“Amen to that,” Kiyama said.

“Good night, my son.”

“Good night, Mother.”

When they were alone Kiyama said, “The Father-Visitor’s very worried.”

“About me, Sire?”

“Yes. And about the Holy Church—and the barbarian. And about the barbarian ship. First tell me about him.”

“He’s a unique man, very strong and very intelligent. At sea he’s … he
belongs
there. He seems to become part of a ship and the sea, and, out to sea, there’s no man who can approach him in bravery and cunning.”

“Even the Rodrigues-san?”

“The Anjin-san overcame him twice. Once here and once on our way to Yedo.” She told him about Rodrigues arriving in the night during their stay near Mishima and about the concealed weapons and all that she had overheard. “If their ships were equal, the Anjin-san would win. Even if they were not, I think he’d win.”

“Tell me about his ship.”

She obeyed.

“Tell me about his vassals.”