Shogun (50 page)

Within a few hundred paces was the castle donjon, the keep. It towered seven stories, protected by a further multiplicity of walls and doors and fortifications. On the fourth story were seven rooms with iron doors. Each was crammed with gold bullion and chests of golden coins. In the story above were the rooms of silver, bursting with ingots and chests of coins. And in the one above that were the rare silks and potteries and swords and armor—the treasure of the Empire.

At our present reckoning, Alvito thought, the value must be at least fifty million ducats, more than one year’s worth of revenue from the entire Spanish Empire, the Portuguese Empire, and Europe together. The greatest personal fortune of cash on earth.

Isn’t this the great prize? he reasoned. Doesn’t whoever controls Osaka Castle control this unbelievable wealth? And doesn’t this wealth therefore give him power over the land? Wasn’t Osaka made impregnable just to protect the wealth? Wasn’t the land bled to build
Osaka Castle, to make it inviolate to protect the gold, to hold it in trust against the coming of age of Yaemon?

With a hundredth part we could build a cathedral in every city, a church in every town, a mission in every village throughout the land. If only we could get it, to use it for the glory of God!

The Taikō had loved power. And he had loved gold for the power it gave over men. The treasure was the gleaning of sixteen years of undisputed power, from the immense, obligatory gifts that all
daimyos
, by custom, were expected to offer yearly, and from his own fiefs. By right of conquest, the Taikō personally owned one fourth of all the land. His personal annual income was in excess of five million koku. And because he was Lord of all Japan with the Emperor’s mandate, in theory he owned all revenue of all fiefs. He taxed no one. But all
daimyos
, all samurai, all peasants, all artisans, all merchants, all robbers, all outcasts, all barbarians, even
eta
, contributed voluntarily, in great measure. For their own safety.

So long as the fortune is intact and Osaka is intact and Yaemon the
de facto
custodian, Alvito told himself, Yaemon will rule when he is of age in spite of Toranaga, Ishido, or anyone.

A pity the Taikō’s dead. With all his faults, we knew the devil we had to deal with. Pity, in fact, that Goroda was murdered, for he was a real friend to us. But he’s dead, and so is the Taikō, and now we have new pagans to bend—Toranaga and Ishido.

Alvito remembered the night that the Taikō had died. He had been invited by the Taikō to keep vigil—he, together with Yodoko-sama, the Taikō’s wife, and the Lady Ochiba, his consort and mother of the Heir. They had watched and waited long in the balm of that endless summer’s night.

Then the dying began, and came to pass.

“His spirit’s gone. He’s in the hands of God now,” he had said gently when he was sure. He had made the sign of the cross and blessed the body.

“May Buddha take my Lord into his keeping and rebirth him quickly so that he will take back the Empire into his hands once more,” Yodoko had said in silent tears. She was a nice woman, a patrician samurai who had been a faithful wife and counselor for forty-four of her fifty-nine years of life. She had closed the eyes and made the corpse dignified, which was her privilege. Sadly she had made an obeisance three times and then she had left him and the Lady Ochiba.

The dying had been easy. For months the Taikō had been sick and
tonight the end was expected. A few hours ago he had opened his eyes and smiled at Ochiba and at Yodoko, and had whispered, his voice like a thread: “Listen, this is my death poem:

A last smile, so tender, from the Despot to them and to him. “Guard my son, all of you.” And then the eyes had opaqued forever.

Father Alvito remembered how moved he had been by the last poem, so typical of the Taikō. He had hoped because he had been invited that, on the threshold, the Lord of Japan would have relented and would have accepted the Faith and the Sacrament that he had toyed with so many times. But it was not to be. “You’ve lost the Kingdom of God forever, poor man,” he had muttered sadly, for he had admired the Taikō as a military and political genius.

“What if your Kingdom of God’s up a barbarian’s back passage?” Lady Ochiba had said.

“What?” He was not certain he had heard correctly, revolted by her unexpected hissing malevolence. He had known Lady Ochiba for almost twelve years, since she was fifteen, when the Taikō had first taken her to consort, and she had ever been docile and subservient, hardly saying a word, always smiling sweetly and happy. But now …

“I said, ‘What if your God’s kingdom’s in a barbarian’s back passage?’”

“May God forgive you! Your Master’s dead only a few moments—”

“The Lord my Master’s dead, so your influence over him is dead.
Neh?
He wanted you here, very good, that was his right. But now he’s in the Great Void and commands no more. Now I command. Priest, you stink, you always have, and your foulness pollutes the air. Now get out of my castle and leave us to our grief!”

The stark candlelight had flickered across her face. She was one of the most beautiful women in the land. Involuntarily he had made the sign of the cross against her evil.

Her laugh was chilling. “Go away, priest, and never come back. Your days are numbered!”

“No more than yours. I am in the hands of God, Lady. Better you take heed of Him, Eternal Salvation can be yours if you believe.”

“Eh? You’re in the hands of God? The Christian God,
neh?
Perhaps you are. Perhaps not. What will you do, priest, if when you’re dead you discover there is no God, that there’s no hell and your Eternal Salvation just a dream within a dream?”

“I believe! I believe in God and in the Resurrection and in the Holy Ghost!” he said aloud. “The Christian promises are true. They’re true, they’re true—I believe!”

“
Nan ja
, Tsukku-san?”

For a moment he only heard the Japanese and it had no meaning for him.

Toranaga was standing in the doorway surrounded by his guards.

Father Alvito bowed, collecting himself, sweat on his back and face. “I am sorry to have come uninvited. I—I was just daydreaming. I was remembering that I’ve had the good fortune to witness so many things here in Japan. My whole life seems to have been here and nowhere else.”

“That’s been our gain, Tsukku-san.”

Toranaga walked tiredly to the dais and sat on the simple cushion. Silently the guards arranged themselves in a protective screen.

“You arrived here in the third year of Tenshō, didn’t you?”

“No, Sire, it was the fourth. The Year of the Rat,” he replied, using their counting, which had taken him months to understand. All the years were measured from a particular year that was chosen by the ruling Emperor. A catastrophe or a godsend might end an era or begin one, at his whim. Scholars were ordered to select a name of particularly good omen from the ancient books of China for the new era which might last a year or fifty years. Tenshō meant “Heaven Righteousness.” The previous year had been the time of the great tidal wave when two hundred thousand had died. And each year was given a number as well as a name—one of the same succession as the hours of the day: Hare, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Cock, Dog, Boar, Rat, Ox and Tiger. The first year of Tenshō had fallen in the Year of the Cock, so it followed that 1576 was the Year of the Rat in the Fourth Year of Tenshō.

“Much has happened in those twenty-four years,
neh
, old friend?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Yes. The rise of Goroda and his death. The rise of the Taikō and his death. And now?” The words ricocheted off the walls.

“That is in the hands of the Infinite.” Alvito used a word that could mean God, and also could mean Buddha.

“Neither the Lord Goroda nor the Lord Taikō believed in any gods, or any Infinite.”

“Didn’t the Lord Buddha say there are many paths to nirvana, Sire?”

“Ah, Tsukku-san, you’re a wise man. How is someone so young so wise?”

“I wish sincerely I was, Sire. Then I could be of more help.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I thought it important enough to come uninvited.”

Alvito took out Blackthorne’s rutters and placed them on the floor in front of him, giving the explanations dell’Aqua had suggested. He saw Toranaga’s face harden and he was glad of it.

“Proof of his
piracy?”

“Yes, Sire. The rutters even contain the exact words of their orders, which include: ‘if necessary to land in force and claim any territory reached or discovered.’ If you wish I can make an exact translation of all the pertinent passages.”

“Make a translation of everything. Quickly,” Toranaga said.

“There’s something else the Father-Visitor thought you should know.” Alvito told Toranaga everything about the maps and reports and the Black Ship as had been arranged, and he was delighted to see the pleased reaction.

“Excellent,” Toranaga said. “Are you sure the Black Ship will be early? Absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” Alvito answered firmly. Oh, God, let it happen as we hope!

“Good. Tell your liege lord that I look forward to reading his reports. Yes. I imagine it will take some months for him to obtain the correct facts?”

“He said he would prepare the reports as soon as possible. We will be sending you the maps as you wanted. Would it be possible for the Captain-General to have his clearances soon? That would help enormously if the Black Ship is to come early, Lord Toranaga.”

“You guarantee the ship will arrive early?”

“No man can guarantee the wind and storm and sea. But the ship will leave Macao early.”

“You will have them before sunset. Is there anything else? I won’t be available for three days, until after the conclusion of the meeting of the Regents.”

“No, Sire. Thank you. I pray that the Infinite will keep you safe, as always.” Alvito bowed and waited for his dismissal, but instead, Toranaga dismissed his guards.

This was the first time Alvito had ever seen a
daimyo
unattended.

“Come and sit here, Tsukku-san.” Toranaga pointed beside him, on the dais.

Alvito had never been invited onto the dais before. Is this a vote of confidence—or a sentence?

“War is coming,” Toranaga said.

“Yes,” he replied, and he thought, this war will never end.

“The Christian Lords Onoshi and Kiyama are strangely opposed to my wishes.”

“I cannot answer for any
daimyo
, Sire.”

“There are bad rumors,
neh?
About them, and about the other Christian
daimyos.”

“Wise men will always have the interests of the Empire at heart.”

“Yes. But in the meantime, against my will, the Empire is being split into two camps. Mine and Ishido’s. So all interests in the Empire lie on one side or another. There is no middle course. Where do the interests of the Christians lie?”

“On the side of peace. Christianity is a religion, Sire, not a political ideology.”

“Your Father-Giant is head of your Church here. I hear you speak—you can speak in this Pope’s name.”

“We are forbidden to involve ourselves in your politics, Sire.”

“You think Ishido will favor you?” Toranaga’s voice hardened. “He’s totally opposed to your religion. I’ve always shown you favor. Ishido wants to implement the Taikō’s Expulsion Edicts at once and close the land totally to all barbarians. I want an expanding trade.”

“We do not control any of the Christian
daimyos.”

“How do I influence them, then?”

“I don’t know enough to attempt to counsel you.”

“You know enough, old friend, to understand that if Kiyama and Onoshi stand against me alongside Ishido and the rest of his rabble, all other Christian
daimyos
will soon follow them—then twenty men stand against me for every one of mine.”

“If war comes, I will pray you win.”

“I’ll need more than prayers if twenty men oppose one of mine.”

“Is there no way to avoid war? It will never end once it starts.”

“I believe that too. Then everyone loses—we and the barbarian
and the Christian Church. But if all Christian
daimyos
sided with me now—openly—there would be no war. Ishido’s ambitions would be permanently curbed. Even if he raised his standard and revolted, the Regents could stamp him out like a rice maggot.”

Alvito felt the noose tightening around his throat. “We are here only to spread the Word of God. Not to interfere in your politics, Sire.”

“Your previous leader offered the services of the Christian
daimyos
of Kyushu to the Taikō before we had subdued that part of the Empire.”

“He was mistaken to do so. He had no authority from the Church or from the
daimyos
themselves.”

“He offered to give the Taikō ships, Portuguese ships, to transport our troops to Kyushu, offered Portuguese soldiers with guns to help us. Even against Korea and against China.”

“Again, Sire, he did it mistakenly, without authority from anyone.”

“Soon everyone will have to choose sides, Tsukku-san. Yes. Very soon.”

Alvito felt the threat physically. “I am always ready to serve you.”

“If I lose, will you die with me? Will you commit
jenshi
—will you follow me, or come with me into death, like a loyal retainer?”

“My life is in the hands of God. So is my death.”

“Ah, yes. Your Christian God!” Toranaga moved his swords slightly. Then he leaned forward. “Onoshi and Kiyama committed to me, within forty days, and the Council of Regents will repeal the Taikō’s Edicts.”

How far dare I go? Alvito asked himself helplessly. How far? “We cannot influence them as you believe.”

“Perhaps your leader should order them.
Order them!
Ishido will betray you and them. I know him for what he is. So will the Lady Ochiba. Isn’t she already influencing the Heir against you?”

Yes, Alvito wanted to shout. But Onoshi and Kiyama have secretly obtained Ishido’s sworn commitment in writing to let them appoint all of the Heir’s tutors, one of whom will be a Christian. And Onoshi and Kiyama have sworn a Holy Oath that they’re convinced you will betray the Church, once you have eliminated Ishido. “The Father-Visitor cannot order them, Lord. It would be an unforgivable interference with your politics.”