Shogun (The Asian Saga Chronology) (88 page)

"Where's my wife?  With the Anjin-san?"

"No, Buntaro-sama, so sorry, she was ordered to the fortress where—"

"Ordered?  By whom?  By Kasigi Yabu?"

"Oh, no, by Lord Toranaga, Sire, when he came back from hunting this afternoon."

"Oh, Lord Toranaga?"  Buntaro simmered down and scowled across the bay at the fortress.  Toranaga's standard flew beside Yabu's.

"Would you like me to send someone for her?"

He shook his head.  "There's time enough for her."  He exhaled, looked across at his niece, daughter of his youngest sister.  "I'm fortunate to have such an accomplished wife,
neh?
"

"Yes, Sire.  Yes you are.  She's been enormously valuable to interpret the Anjin-san's knowledge."

Buntaro stared at the fortress, then sniffed the wind as the smell of the cooking wafted up again.  "It's like being at Nagasaki, or back in Korea.  They cook meat all the time there, boil it or roast it.  Stink—you've never smelled anything like it.  Koreans're animals, like cannibals.  The garlic stench even gets into your clothes and hair."

"It must have been terrible."

"The war was good.  We could have won easily.  And smashed through to China.  And civilized both countries."  Buntaro flushed and his voice rasped.  "But we didn't.  We failed and had to come back with our shame because we were betrayed.  Betrayed by filthy traitors in high places."

"Yes, that's so sad, but you're right.  Very right, Buntaro-sama," she said soothingly, telling the lie easily, knowing no nation on earth could conquer China, and no one could civilize China, which had been civilized since ancient times.

The vein on Buntaro's forehead was throbbing and he was talking almost to himself.  "They'll pay.  All of them.  The traitors.  It's only a matter of waiting beside a river long enough for the bodies of your enemies to float by,
neh?
  I'll wait and I'll spit on their heads soon, very soon.  I've promised myself that."  He looked at her.  "I hate traitors and adulterers.  And all liars!"

"Yes, I agree.  You're so right, Buntaro-sama," she said, chilled, knowing there was no limit to his ferocity.  When Buntaro was sixteen he had executed his own mother, one of Hiro-matsu's lesser consorts, for her supposed infidelity while his father, Hiro-matsu, was at war fighting for the Dictator, Lord Goroda.  Then, years later, he had killed his own eldest son by his first wife for supposed insults and sent her back to her family, where she died by her own hand, unable to bear the shame.  He had done terrible things to his consorts and to Mariko.  And he had quarreled violently with Fujiko's father and had accused him of cowardice in Korea, discrediting him to the Taikō, who had at once ordered him to shave his head and become a monk, to die debauched, so soon, eaten up by his own shame.

It took all of Fujiko's will to appear tranquil.  "We were so proud to hear that you had escaped the enemy," she said.

The saké arrived.  Buntaro began to drink heavily.

When there had been the correct amount of waiting Fujiko got up.  "Please excuse me for a moment."  She went to the kitchen to warn Blackthorne, to ask his permission for Buntaro to be quartered in the house, and to tell him and the servants what had to be done.

"Why here?"  Blackthorne asked irritably.  "Why to stay here?  Is necessary?"

Fujiko apologized and tried to explain that, of course, Buntaro could not be refused.  Blackthorne returned moodily to his cooking and she came back to Buntaro, her chest aching.

"My Master says he's honored to have you here.  His house is your house."

"What's it like being consort to a barbarian?"

"I would imagine horrible.  But to the Anjin-san, who is hatamoto and therefore samurai?  I suppose like to other men.  This is the first time I've been consort.  I prefer to be a wife.  The Anjin-san's like other men, though yes, some of his ways are very strange."

"Who'd have thought one of our house would be consort to a barbarian—even a hatamoto."

"I had no choice.  I merely obeyed Lord Toranaga, and grandfather, the leader of our clan.  It's a woman's place to obey."

"Yes."  Buntaro finished his cup of saké and she refilled it.  "Obedience's important for a woman.  And Mariko-san's obedient, isn't she?"

"Yes, Lord."  She looked into his ugly, apelike face.  "She's brought you nothing but honor, Sire.  Without the Lady, your wife, Lord Toranaga could never have got the Anjin-san's knowledge."

He smiled crookedly.  "I hear you stuck pistols in Omi-san's face."

"I was only doing my duty, Sire."

"Where did you learn to use guns?"

"I had never handled a gun until then.  I didn't know if the pistols were loaded.  But I would have pulled the triggers."

Buntaro laughed.  "Omi-san thought that too."

She refilled his cup.  "I never understood why Omi-san didn't try to take them away from me.  His lord had ordered him to take them, but he didn't."

"I would have."

"Yes, Uncle.  I know.  Please excuse me, I would still have pulled the triggers."

"Yes.  But you would have missed!"

"Yes, probably.  Since then I've learned how to shoot."

"He taught you?"

"No.  One of Lord Naga's officers."

"Why?"

"My father would never allow his daughters to learn sword or spear.  He thought, wisely I believe, we should devote our time to learning gentler things.  But sometimes a woman needs to protect her master and his house.  The pistol's a good weapon for a woman, very good.  It requires no strength and little practice.  So now I can perhaps be a little more use to my Master, for I will surely blow any man's head off to protect him, and for the honor of our house."

Buntaro drained his cup.  "I was proud when I heard you'd opposed Omi-san as you did.  You were correct.  Lord Hiro-matsu will be proud too."

"Thank you, Uncle.  But I was only doing an ordinary duty."  She bowed formally.  "My Master asks if you would allow him the honor of talking with you now, if it pleases you."

He continued the ritual.  "Please thank him but first may I bathe?  If it pleases him, I'll see him when my
wife
returns."

CHAPTER 35

Blackthorne waited. in the garden.  Now he wore the Brown uniform kimono that Toranaga had given him with swords in his sash and a loaded pistol hidden under the sash.  From Fujiko's hurried explanations and subsequently from the servants, he had gathered that he had to receive Buntaro formally, because the samurai was an important general and hatamoto, and was the first guest in the house.  So he had bathed and changed quickly and had gone to the place that had been prepared.

He had seen Buntaro briefly yesterday, when he arrived.  Buntaro had been busy with Toranaga and Yabu the rest of the day, together with Mariko, and Blackthorne had been left alone to organize the hurried attack demonstration with Omi and Naga.  The attack was satisfactory.

Mariko had returned to the house very late.  She had told him briefly about Buntaro's escape, the days of being hunted by Ishido's men, eluding them, and at last breaking through the hostile provinces to reach the Kwanto.  "It was very difficult, but perhaps not too difficult, Anjin-san.  My husband is very strong and very brave."

"What's going to happen now?  Are you leaving?"

"Lord Toranaga orders that everything's to remain as it was.  Nothing's to be changed."

"You're changed, Mariko.  A spark's gone out of you."

"No.  That's your imagination, Anjin-san.  It's just my relief that he's alive when I was certain he was dead."

"Yes.  But it's made a difference, hasn't it?"

"Of course.  I thank God my Master wasn't captured—that he lived to obey Lord Toranaga.  Will you excuse me, Anjin-san.  I'm tired now.  I'm sorry, I'm very very tired."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"What should you do, Anjin-san?  Except to be happy for me and for him.  Nothing's changed, really.  Nothing is finished because nothing began.  Everything's as it was.  My husband's alive."

Don't you wish he were dead? Blackthorne asked himself in the garden.  No.

Then why the hidden pistol?  Are you filled with guilt?

No.  Nothing began.

Didn't it?

No.

You thought you were taking her.  Isn't that the same as taking her in fact?

He saw Mariko walk into the garden from the house.  She looked like a porcelain miniature following half a pace behind Buntaro, his burliness seeming even greater by comparison.  Fujiko was with her, and the maids.

He bowed.  "
Yokoso oide kudasareta,
Buntaro-san."  Welcome to my house, Buntaro-san.

They all bowed.  Buntaro and Mariko sat on the cushions opposite him.  Fujiko seated herself behind him.  Nigatsu and the maid, Koi, began to serve tea and saké.  Buntaro took saké.  So did Blackthorne.

"
Domo,
Anjin-san. 
Ikaga desu ka?
"

"
Ii.  Ikaga desu ka?
"

"
Ii.  Kowa jozuni shabereru yoni natta na.
"  Good.  You're beginning to speak Japanese very well.

Soon Blackthorne became lost in the conversation, for Buntaro was slurring his words, speaking carelessly and rapidly.

"Sorry, Mariko-san, I didn't understand that."

"My husband wishes to thank you for trying to save him.  With the oar.  You remember?  When we were escaping from Osaka."

"
Ah, so desu!  Domo.
  Please tell him I still think we should have put back to shore.  There was time enough.  The maid drowned unnecessarily."

"He says that was
karma.
"

"That was a wasted death," Blackthorne replied, and regretted the rudeness.  He noticed that she did not translate it.

"My husband says that the assault strategy is very good, very good indeed."

"
Domo.
  Tell him I'm glad he escaped unharmed.  And that he's to command the regiment.  And of course, that he's welcome to stay here."

"
Domo,
Anjin-san.  Buntaro-sama says, yes, the assault plan is very good.  But for himself he will always carry his bow and swords.  He can kill at a much greater range, with great accuracy, and faster than a musket."

"Tomorrow I will shoot against him and we will see, if he likes."

"You will lose, Anjin-san, so sorry.  May I caution you not to attempt that," she said.

Blackthorne saw Buntaro's eyes flick from Mariko to him and back again.  "Thank you, Mariko-san.  Say to him that I would like to see him shoot."

"He asks, can you use a bow?"

"Yes, but not as a proper bowman.  Bows are pretty much out of date with us.  Except the crossbow.  I was trained for the sea.  There we use only cannon, musket, or cutlass.  Sometimes we use fire arrows but only for enemy sails in close quarters."

"He asks, how are they used, how do you make them, these fire arrows?  Are they different from ours, like the ones used against the galley at Osaka?"

Blackthorne began to explain and there were the usual tiring interruptions and probing requestionings.  By now he was used to their incredibly inquisitive minds about any aspect of war, but found it exhausting to talk through an interpreter.  Even though Mariko was excellent, what she actually said was rarely exact.  A long reply would always be shortened, some of what was spoken would, of course, be changed slightly, and misunderstandings occurred.  So explanations had to be repeated unnecessarily.

But without Mariko, he knew that he could never have become so valuable.  It's only knowledge that keeps me from the pit, he reminded himself.  But that's no problem, because there's much to tell yet and a battle to win.  A real battle to win.  You're safe till then.  You've a navy to plan.  And then home.  Safe.

He saw Buntaro's swords and the guard's swords and he felt his own and the oiled warmth of his pistol and he knew, truthfully, he would never be safe in this land.  Neither he nor anyone was safe, not even Toranaga.

"Anjin-san, Buntaro-sama asks if he sends you men tomorrow, could you show them how to make these arrows?"

"Where can we get pitch?"

"I don't know."  Mariko cross-questioned him on where it was usually found and what it looked like or smelled like, and on possible alternatives.  Then she spoke to Buntaro at length.  Fujiko had been silent all the while, her eyes and ears trained, missing nothing.  The maids, well commanded by a slight motion of Fujiko's fan to an empty cup, constantly replenished the saké flasks.

"My husband says he will discuss this with Lord Toranaga.  Perhaps pitch exists somewhere in the Kwanto.  We've never heard of it before.  If not pitch, we have thick oils—whale oils—which might substitute.  He asks do you sometimes use war rockets, like the Chinese?"

"Yes.  But they're not considered of much value except in siege.  The Turks used them when they came against the Knights of St. John in Malta.  Rockets are used mostly to cause fire and panic."

"He asks please give him details about this battle."

"It was forty years ago, in the greatest—"  Blackthorne stopped, his mind racing.  This had been the most vital siege in Europe.  Sixty thousand Islamic Turks, the cream of the Ottoman Empire, had come against six hundred Christian knights supported by a few thousand Maltese auxiliaries, at bay in their vast castle complex at St. Elmo on the tiny island of Malta in the Mediterranean.  The knights had successfully withstood the six-month siege and, incredibly, had forced the enemy to retreat in shame.  This victory had saved the whole Mediterranean seaboard, and thus Christendom, from being ravaged at whim by the infidel hordes.

Blackthorne had suddenly realized that this battle gave him one of the keys to Osaka Castle:  how to invest it, how to harry it, how to break through the gates, and how to conquer it.

"You were saying, senhor?"

"It was forty years ago, in the greatest inland sea we have in Europe, Mariko-san.  The Mediterranean.  It was just a siege, like any siege, not worth talking about," he lied.  Such knowledge was priceless, certainly not to be given away lightly and absolutely not now.  Mariko had explained many times that Osaka Castle stood inexorably between Toranaga and victory.  Blackthorne was certain that the solution to Osaka might well be his passport out of the Empire, with all the riches he would need in this life.