Shogun (The Asian Saga Chronology) (148 page)

She was slight, almost girlish in build, with a luminous glow to her fair skin.  Her sloe eyes were large under painted, arched brows, her hair set like a winged helmet.

The procession of guests crept forward. Blackthorne was standing to one side in a pool of light, a head taller than those nearby. Politely he stepped aside to get out of the way of some passing guests and saw Ochiba's eyes turn to him. Now Ishido was looking at him too.

They said something to each other and her fan moved.  Their eyes returned to him.  Uneasily he went toward a wall to become less conspicuous but a Gray barred his way.  "
Dozo,
" this samurai said politely, motioning at the line.

"
Hai, domo,
" Blackthorne said and joined it.

Those in front bowed and others that came after him bowed.  He returned their bows.  Soon all conversation died.  Everyone was looking at him.

Embarrassed, the men and women ahead in the line moved out of his way.  Now no one was between him and the platform.  He stood rigid momentarily.  Then, in the utter silence, he walked forward.

In front of the platform he knelt and bowed formally, once to her and once to Ishido as he had seen others do.  He got up again, petrified that his swords would fall or that he would slip and be disgraced, but everything went satisfactorily and he began to back away.

"Please wait, Anjin-san," she said.

He waited.  Her luminosity seemed to have increased, and her femininity.  He felt the extraordinary sensuality that surrounded her, without conscious effort on her part.

"It is said that you speak our language?"  Her voice was unaccountably personal.

"Please excuse me, Highness," Blackthorne began, using his timetried stock phrase, stumbling slightly in his nervousness.  "So sorry, but I have to use short words and respectfully ask you to use very simple words to me so that I may have the honor of understanding you."  He knew that without doubt his life could easily depend on his answers.  All attention in the room was on them now.  Then he noticed Yabu moving carefully through the throng, coming closer.  "May I respectfully congratulate you on your birthday and pray that you live to enjoy a thousand more."

"These are hardly simple words, Anjin-san," Lady Ochiba said, very impressed.

"Please excuse me, Highness.  I learn that last night.  The right way to say,
neh?
"

"Who taught you that?"

"Uraga-noh-Tadamasa, my vassal."

She frowned, then glanced at Ishido, who bent forward and spoke, too rapidly for Blackthorne to catch anything other than the word "arrows."

"Ah, the renegade Christian priest who was killed last night on your ship?"

"Highness?"

"The man—samurai who was killed,
neh?
  Last night on ship.  You understand?"

"Ah, so sorry.  Yes, him."  Blackthorne glanced at Ishido, then back at her.  "Please excuse me, Highness, your permission greet the Lord General?"

"Yes, you have that permission."

"Good evening, Lord General," Blackthorne said with studied politeness.  "Last time meet, I very terrible mad.  So sorry."

Ishido returned the bow perfunctorily.  "Yes, you were.  And very impolite.  I hope you won't get mad tonight or any other night."

"Very mad that night, please excuse me."

"That madness is usual among barbarians,
neh?
"

Such public rudeness to a guest was very bad.  Blackthorne's eyes flashed to Lady Ochiba for an instant and he discerned surprise in her too.  So he gambled.  "Ah, Lord General, you are most very right.  Barbarian always same madness.  But, so sorry, now I am samurai—hatamoto—this great, so very great honor to me. 
I am no longer barbarian.
"  He used his quarterdeck voice which carried without shouting and filled all the corners of the room.  "Now I understand samurai manners—and little
bushido
.  And
wa
.  I am no longer barbarian, please excuse. 
Neh?
"  He spoke the last word as a challenge, unafraid.  He knew that Japanese understood masculinity and pride, and honored them.

Ishido laughed.  "So, samurai Anjin-san," he said, jovial now.  "Yes, I accept your apology.  Rumors about your courage are true.  Good, very good.  I should apologize also.  Terrible that filthy
ronin
could do such a thing, you understand?  Attack in night?"

"Yes, I understand, Sire.  Very bad.  Four men dead.  One of my, three Grays."

"Listen, bad, very bad.  Don't worry, Anjin-san.  No more."  Thoughtfully Ishido glanced at the room.  Everyone understood him very clearly.  "Now I order guards.  Understand?  Very careful guards.  No more assassin attacks.  None.  You very carefully guarded now.  Quite safe in castle."

"Thank you.  So sorry for trouble."

"No trouble.  You important,
neh?
  You samurai.  You have special samurai place with Lord Toranaga.  I don't forget—never fear."

Blackthorne thanked Ishido again and turned to the Lady Ochiba.  "Highness, in my land we has Queen—have Queen.  Please excuse my bad Japanese. . . . Yes, my land rule by Queen.  In my land we have custom always must give lady birthday gift.  Even Queen."  From the pocket in his sleeve he took out the pink camellia blossom that he had cut off a tree in the garden.  He laid it in front of her, fearful he was overreaching himself.  "Please excuse me if not good manners to give."

She looked at the flower.  Five hundred people waited breathlessly to see how she would respond to the daring and the gallantry of the barbarian—and the trap he had, perhaps, unwittingly placed her in.

"I am not a Queen, Anjin-san," she said slowly.  "Only the mother of the Heir and widow of the Lord Taikō.  I cannot accept your gift as a Queen for I am not a Queen, could never be a Queen, do not pretend to be a Queen, and do not wish to be a Queen."  Then she smiled at the room and said to everyone, "But as a lady on her birthday, perhaps I may have your permission to accept the Anjin-san's gift?"

The room burst into applause.  Blackthorne bowed and thanked her, having understood only that the gift was accepted.  When the crowd was silent again, Lady Ochiba called out, "Mariko-san, your pupil does you credit,
neh?
"

Mariko was coming through the guests, a youth beside her.  Near them he recognized Kiritsubo and the Lady Sazuko.  He saw the youth smile at a young girl then, self-consciously, catch up with Mariko.  "Good evening, Lady Toda," Blackthorne said, then added dangerously in Latin, intoxicated by his success, "The evening is more beautiful because of thy presence."

"Thank you, Anjin-san," she replied in Japanese, her cheeks coloring.  She walked up to the platform, but the youth stayed within the circle of onlookers.  Mariko bowed to Ochiba.  "I have done little, Ochiba-sama.  It's all the Anjin-san's work and the word book that the Christian Fathers gave him."

"Ah yes, the word book!"  Ochiba made Blackthorne show it to her and, with Mariko's help, explain it elaborately.  She was fascinated.  So was Ishido.  "We must get copies, Lord General.  Please order them to give us a hundred of the books.  With these, our young men could soon learn barbarian,
neh?
"

"Yes.  It's a good idea, Lady.  The sooner we have our own interpreters, the better."  Ishido laughed.  "Let Christians break their own monopoly,
neh?
"

An iron-gray samurai in his sixties who stood in the front of the guests said, "Christians own no monopoly, Lord General.  We ask the Christian Fathers—in fact we insist that they be interpreters and negotiators because they're the only ones who can talk to both sides and are trusted by both sides.  Lord Goroda began the custom,
neh?
  And then the Taikō continued it."

"Of course, Lord Kiyama, I meant no disrespect to
daimyos
or samurai who have become Christian.  I referred only to the monopoly of the Christian priests," Ishido said.  "It would be better for us if our people and not foreign priests—any priests for that matter—controlled our trade with China."

Kiyama said, "There's never been a case of fraud, Lord General.  Prices are fair, the trade is easy and efficient, and the Fathers control their own people.  Without the Southern Barbarians there's no silk, no China trade.  Without the Fathers we could have much trouble.  Very much trouble, so sorry.  Please excuse me for mentioning it."

"Ah, Lord Kiyama," the Lady Ochiba said, "I'm sure Lord Ishido is honored that you correct him, isn't that so, Lord General?  What would the Council be without Lord Kiyama's advice?"

"Of course," Ishido said.

Kiyama bowed stiffly, not unpleased.  Ochiba glanced at the youth and fluttered her fan.  "How about you, Saruji-san?  Perhaps you would like to learn barbarian?"

The boy blushed under their scrutiny.  He was slim and handsome and tried hard to be more manly than his almost fifteen years.  "Oh, I hope I wouldn't have to do that, Ochiba-sama, oh no—but if it is ordered I will try.  Yes, I'd try very hard."

They laughed at his ingenuousness.  Mariko said proudly in Japanese, "Anjin-san, this is my son, Saruji."  Blackthorne had been concentrating on their conversation, most of which was too fast and too vernacular for him to comprehend.  But he had heard "Kiyama," and an alarm went off.  He bowed to Saruji and the bow was formally returned.  "He's a very fine man,
neh?
  Lucky have such a fine son, Mariko-sama."  His veiled eyes were looking at the youth's right hand.  It was permanently twisted.  Then he remembered that once Mariko had told him her son's birth had been prolonged and difficult.  Poor lad, he thought.  How can he use a sword?  He took his eyes away.  No one had noticed the direction of his glance except Saruji.  He saw embarrassment and pain in the youth's face.

"Lucky have fine son," he said to Mariko.  "But surely impossible, Mariko-sama, you have such big son—not enough years,
neh?
"

Ochiba said, "Are you always so gallant, Anjin-san?  Do you always say such clever things?"

"Please?"

"Ah, always so clever?  Compliments?  Do you understand?"

"No, so sorry, please excuse me."  Blackthorne's head was aching from concentration.  Even so, when Mariko told him what had been said he replied with mock gravity, "Ah, so sorry, Mariko-sama.  If Saruji-san is truly your son, please tell the Lady Ochiba I did not know that ladies here were married at ten."

She translated.  Then added something that made them laugh.

"What did you say?"

"Ah!"  Mariko noticed Kiyama's baleful eyes on Blackthorne.  "Please excuse me, Lord Kiyama, may I introduce the Anjin-san to you?"

Kiyama acknowledged Blackthorne's very correct bow politely.  "They say you claim to be a Christian?"

"Please?"

Kiyama did not deign to repeat it so Mariko translated.

"Ah, so sorry, Lord Kiyama," Blackthorne said in Japanese.  "Yes.  I'm Christian—but different sect."

"Your sect is not welcome in my lands.  Nor in Nagasaki—or Kyushu, I'd imagine—or in any lands of any
Christian daimyos
."

Mariko kept her smile in place.  She was wondering if Kiyama had personally ordered the Amida assassin, and also the attack last night.  She translated, taking the edge off Kiyama's discourtesy, everyone in the room listening intently.

"I'm not a priest, Lord," Blackthorne said, direct to Kiyama.  "If I in your land—only trade.  No priest talk or teach.  Respectfully ask trade only."

"I do not want
your
trade.  I do not want
you
in my lands. 
You
are forbidden my lands on pain of death.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Blackthorne said.  "So sorry."

"Good."  Kiyama haughtily turned to Ishido.  "We should exclude this sect and these barbarians completely from the Empire.  I will propose this at the Council's next meeting.  I must say openly that I think Lord Toranaga was ill-advised to make any foreigner, particularly
this
man samurai.  It's a very dangerous precedent."

"Surely that's unimportant!  All the mistakes of the present Lord of the Kwanto will be corrected very soon. 
Neh?
"

"Everyone makes mistakes, Lord General," Kiyama said pointedly.  "Only God is all-seeing and perfect.  The only
real
mistake Lord Toranaga has ever made is to put his own interests before those of the Heir."

"Yes," Ishido said.

"Please excuse me," Mariko said.  "But that's not true.  I'm sorry, but you're both mistaken about my Master."

Kiyama turned on her.  Politely.  "It's perfectly correct for you to take that position, Mariko-san.  But, please let's not discuss that tonight.  So, Lord General, where is Lord Toranaga now?  What's your latest news?"

"By yesterday's carrier pigeon, I heard he was at Mishima.  Now I'm getting daily reports on his progress."

"Good.  Then in two days he'll leave his own borders?" Kiyama asked.

"Yes.  Lord Ikawa Jikkyu is ready to welcome him as his position merits."

"Good."  Kiyama smiled at Ochiba.  He was very fond of her.  "On that day, Lady, in honor of the occasion, perhaps you would ask the Heir if he would allow the Regents to bow before him?"

"The Heir would be honored, Sire," she replied, to applause.  "And afterwards perhaps, you and everyone here would be his guests at a poetry competition.  Perhaps the Regents would be the judges?"

There was more applause.

"Thank you, but please, perhaps you and Prince Ogaki and some of the ladies would be the judges."

"Very well, if you wish."

"Now, Lady, what's the theme to be? And the first line of the poem?" Kiyama asked, very pleased, for he was renowned for his poetry as well as his swordsmanship and ferocity in war.

"Please, Mariko-san, would you answer Lord Kiyama?" Ochiba said, and again many there admired her adroitness—she was an indifferent poetess where Mariko was renowned.

Mariko was glad the time had come to begin.  She thought a moment.  Then she said, "It should be about
today
, Lady Ochiba, and the first line:  'On a leafless branch . . .'"