Shōgun полностью

For a time, Mariko remained immobile, seemingly in a trance. Then the color began to return to her cheeks. Her eyes focused. Silently she returned to her mirror. She studied her reflection for a moment. Then, quite calmly, she finished applying her makeup.

Blackthorne ran up the stairs two at a time, his guard with him. They were on the main staircase within the donjon and he was glad to be unencumbered by his swords. He had formally surrendered them in the courtyard to the first guards, who had also searched him politely but thoroughly. Torches lit the staircase and the landings. On the fourth landing he stopped, almost bursting with pent-up excitement, and called back, “Mariko-san, are you all right?”

“Yes—yes. I’m fine, thank you, Anjin-san.”

He began to climb again, feeling light and very strong, until he reached the final landing on the sixth floor. This level was heavily guarded like all the others. His escorting samurai went over to those clustering at the final iron-fortified door and bowed. They bowed back and motioned Blackthorne to wait.

The ironwork and woodwork in the entire castle were excellent. Here in the donjon all the windows, though delicate and soaring, doubled as stations for bowmen, and there were heavy, iron-covered shutters ready to swing into place for further protection.

Mariko rounded the last angle of the easily defensible staircase and reached him.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Oh yes, thank you,” she answered, slightly out of breath. But she still possessed the same curious serenity and detachment that he had at once noticed when he had met her in the courtyard but had never seen before.

Never mind, he thought confidently, it’s just the castle and Toranaga and Buntaro and being here in Yedo. I know what to do now.

Ever since he had seen Erasmus he had been filled with an immense joy. He had truly never expected to find his ship so perfect, so clean and cared for, and ready. There’s hardly reason to stay in Yedo now, he had thought. I’ll just take a quick look below to test the bilges, an easy dive over the side to check the keel, then guns, powder room, ammunition and shot and sails. During the journey to Yedo he’d planned how to use heavy silk or cotton cloth for sails; Mariko had told him that canvas did not exist in Japan. Just get the sails commissioned, he chortled, and any other spares we need, then off to Nagasaki like a lightning bolt.

“Anjin-san!” The samurai was back.

“Hai?”

“Dozo.”

The fortified door swung open silently. Toranaga was seated at the far end of the square room on a section of raised tatamis. Alone.

Blackthorne knelt and bowed low, his hands flat. “Konbanwa, Toranaga-sama. Ikaga desu ka?”

“Okagesama de genki desu. Anata wa?”

Toranaga seemed older and lackluster, and much thinner than before. Shigata ga nai, Blackthorne told himself. Toranaga’s karma won’t touch Erasmus—she’s going to be his savior, by God.

He answered Toranaga’s standard inquiries in simple but well-accented Japanese, using a simplified technique he had developed with Alvito’s help. Toranaga complimented him on the improvement and began to speak faster.

Blackthorne used one of the stock phrases he had worked out with Alvito and Mariko: “Please excuse me, Lord, as my Japanese is not good, would you please speak slower and use simple words, as I have to use simple words—please excuse me for putting you to so much trouble.”

“All right. Yes, certainly. Tell me, how did you like Yokosé?”

Blackthorne replied, keeping up with Toranaga, his answers halting, his vocabulary still very limited, until Toranaga asked a question, the key words of which he missed entirely. “Dozo? Gomen nasai, Toranaga-sama,” he said apologetically. “Wakarimasen.” I don’t understand.

Toranaga repeated what he had said, in simpler language. Blackthorne glanced at Mariko. “So sorry, Mariko-san, what’s ‘sonkei su beki umi’?”

“ ‘Seaworthy,’ Anjin-san.”

“Ah! Domo.” Blackthorne turned back. The daimyo had asked if he could quickly make sure whether his ship was completely seaworthy, and how long that would take. He replied, “Yes, easy. Half day, Lord.”

Toranaga thought a moment, then told him to do that tomorrow and report back in the afternoon, during the Hour of the Goat. “Wakarimasu?”

“Hai.”

“Then you can see your men,” Toranaga added.

“Sire?”

“Your vassals. I sent for you to tell you tomorrow you’ll have your vassals.”

“Ah, so sorry. I understand. Samurai vassals. Two hundred men.”

“Yes. Good night, Anjin-san. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Please excuse me, Lord, may I respectfully ask three things?”

“What?”

“First: Possible see my crew now please? Save time, neh? Please.”

Toranaga agreed and gave a curt order to one of the samurai to guide Blackthorne. “Take a ten-man guard with you. Take the Anjin-san there and bring him back to the castle.”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Next, Anjin-san?”