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“I know. But I am at war with them. Please excuse me. Of course, this is only a discussion, but I’ll have to get some men to put to sea, to be of service to Lord Toranaga if he wishes.”

They were sitting in Toranaga’s private quarters that overlooked the garden. The fortress had hardly been touched by the quake. The night was humid and airless and the smoke from the coils of incense rose lazily to banish the mosquitoes.

“My Master wants to know,” Mariko was saying, “if you had your ship now, and the few crew members that arrived with you, would you sail it to Nagasaki to get these further men you require?”

“No. That would be too dangerous. I’d be so hopelessly undermanned that the Portuguese would capture me. It would be much better to get the men first, bring them back to home waters, to Yedo, neh? Once I’m full-crewed and armed, the enemy’s got nothing in these seas to touch me.”

“He does not think you and ninety men could take the Black Ship.”

“I can outsail her and sink her with Erasmus. Of course, Mariko-san, I know this is all conjecture, but if I was permitted to attack my enemy, the moment I was crewed I’d sail on the tide for Nagasaki. If the Black Ship was already in port, I’d show my battle flags and stand out to sea to blockade her. I’d let her finish trading and then, when the wind was ripe for her homeward voyage, I’d pretend to need supplies and let her slip out of port. I’d catch her a few leagues out because we’ve the speed on her and my cannon would do the rest. Once she’s struck her colors I put a prize crew aboard and bring her back to Yedo. She’ll have upwards of three, almost four hundred tons of gold bullion aboard.”

“But why won’t her captain scuttle his ship once you’ve beaten him, if you beat him, before you can go aboard?”

“Usually . . .” Blackthorne was going to say, “Usually the crew mutiny if the captain’s a fanatic, but I’ve never known one that mad. Most times you make a deal with the captain—spare their lives, give them a small share and safe berth to the nearest port. But this time I’ll have Rodrigues to deal with and I know him and know what he’ll do.” But he thought better about that, or about revealing his whole plan. Best to leave barbarian ways to barbarians, he told himself. “Usually the defeated ship gives up, Mariko-san,” he said instead. “It’s a custom—one of our customs of war at sea—saving unnecessary loss of life.”

“Lord Toranaga says, so sorry Anjin-san, that’s a disgusting custom. If he had ships there would be no surrender.” Mariko sipped some cha, then continued, “And if the ship is not yet in port?”

“Then I sweep the sea lanes to catch her a few leagues out in international waters. She’ll be easier to take heavy laden and wallowing, but harder to bring into Yedo. When’s she expected to dock?”

“My Lord does not know. Perhaps within thirty days, he says. The ship will be early this year.”

Blackthorne knew he was so near the prize, so very near. “Then it’s blockade her and take her at the end of the season.” She translated and Blackthorne thought he saw disappointment momentarily cross Toranaga’s face. He paused, as though he were considering alternatives, then he said, “If this was Europe, there’d be another way. You could sail in by night and take her by force. A surprise attack.”

Toranaga’s grip tightened on his sword hilt.

“He says you’d dare to war on our land against your enemies?”

Blackthorne’s lips were dry. “No. Of course this is still surmise, but if a state of war existed between him and the Portuguese, and Lord Toranaga wanted them hurt, this would be the way to do it. If I had two or three hundred well-disciplined fighters, a good crew, and Erasmus, it would be easy to go alongside the Black Ship and board her, drag her out to sea. He could choose the time of the surprise attack—if this was Europe.”

There was a long silence.

“Lord Toranaga says, this is not Europe and no state of war exists or will ever exist between him and the Portuguese.”

“Of course. One last point, Mariko-san: Nagasaki is not within Lord Toranaga’s control, is it?”

“No, Anjin-san. Lord Harima owns the port and the hinterland.”

“But don’t the Jesuits in practice control the port and all trade?” Blackthorne marked her reluctance to translate but kept up the pressure. “Isn’t that the honto, Mariko-san? And isn’t Lord Harima Catholic? Isn’t most of Kyushu Catholic? And therefore don’t the Jesuits in some measure control the whole island?”

“Christianity’s a religion. The daimyos control their own lands, Anjin-san,” Mariko said for herself.

“But I was told Nagasaki’s really Portuguese soil. I’m told they act as though it is. Didn’t Lord Harima’s father sell the land to the Jesuits?”

Mariko’s voice sharpened. “Yes. But the Taikō took the land back. No foreigner’s allowed to own land here now.”