Shōgun полностью

She’s lucky though that it was only the backs of her legs and her back and not her face. He looked down at her face. It was still as square and flat as ever, her teeth just as sharp and ferretlike, but the warmth that flowed from her eyes compensated for the ugliness. He gave her another hug. “Now. No weep. Order!”

He sent the maid for fresh cha and saké and many cushions and helped her recline on them, as much as at first it embarrassed her to obey. “How can I ever thank you?” she said.

“No thanks. Give back—” Blackthorne thought a moment but he couldn’t remember the Japanese words for “favor” or “remember,” so he pulled out the dictionary and looked them up. “Favor: o-negai” . . . “remember: omoi dasu.”

“Hai, mondoso o-negai! Omoi dasu ka?” Give back favor. Remember? He held up his fists mimicking pistols and pointing them. “Omi-san, remember?”

“Oh, of course,” she cried out. Then, in wonder, she asked to look at the book. She had never seen Roman writing before, and the column of Japanese words into Latin and into Portuguese and vice versa were meaningless to her, but she quickly grasped its purpose. “It’s a book of all our . . . so sorry. Word book, neh?”

“Hai.”

“ ‘Hombun’?” she asked.

He showed her how to find the word in Latin and in Portuguese. “Hombun: duty.” Then added in Japanese, “I understand duty. Samurai duty, neh?”

“Hai.” She clapped her hands as if she had been shown a magic toy. But it is magic, isn’t it, he told himself, a gift from God. This unlocks her mind and Toranaga’s mind and soon I’ll speak perfectly.

She gave him other words and he told her English or Latin or Portuguese, always understanding the words she chose and always finding them. The dictionary never failed.

He looked up a word. “Majutsu desu, neh?” It’s magic, isn’t it?

“Yes, Anjin-san. The book’s magic.” She sipped her cha. “Now I can talk to you. Really talk to you.”

“Little. Only slow, understand?”

“Yes. Please be patient with me. Please excuse me.”

The huge donjon bell sounded the Hour of the Goat and the temples in Yedo echoed the time change.

“I go now. Go Lord Toranaga.” He put the book into his sleeve.

“I’ll wait here please, if I may.”

“Where stay?”

She pointed. “Oh, there, my room’s next door. Please excuse my abruptness—”

“Slowly. Talk slowly. Talk simply!”

She repeated it slowly, with more apologies. “Good,” he said. “Good. I’ll see you later.”

She began to get up but he shook his head and went into the courtyard. The day was overcast now, the air suffocating. Guards awaited him. Soon he was in the donjon forecourt. Mariko was there, more slender than ever, more ethereal, her face alabaster under her rust-gold parasol. She wore somber brown, edged with green.

“Ohayo, Anjin-san. Ikaga desu ka?” she asked, bowing formally.

He told her that he was fine, happily keeping up their custom of talking in Japanese for as long as he could, turning to Portuguese only when he was tired or when they wished to be more secretive.

“Thou . . .” he said cautiously as they walked up the stairs of the donjon.

“Thou,” Mariko echoed, and went immediately into Portuguese with the same gravity as last night. “So sorry, please, no Latin today, Anjin-san, today Latin cannot sit well—Latin cannot serve the purpose it was made for, neh?”

“When can I talk to you?”

“That’s very difficult, so sorry. I have duties. . . .”

“There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“Oh no,” she replied. “Please excuse me, what could be wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”

They climbed another flight in silence. On the next level their passes were checked as always, guards leading and following them. Rain began heavily and this eased the humidity.

“It’ll rain for hours,” he said.

“Yes. But without the rains there’s no rice. Soon the rains will stop altogether, in two or three weeks, then it will be hot and humid until the autumn.” She looked out of the windows at the enveloping cloudburst. “You’ll enjoy the autumn, Anjin-san.”

“Yes.” He was watching Erasmus, far distant, down beside the wharf. Then the rains obscured his ship and he climbed a little way. “After we’ve talked with Lord Toranaga we’ll have to wait till this has passed. Perhaps there’d be somewhere here we could talk?”

“That might be difficult,” she said vaguely, and he found this odd. She was usually decisive and implemented his polite “suggestions” as the orders they would normally be considered. “Please excuse me, Anjin-san, but things are difficult for me at the moment, and there are many things I have to do.” She stopped momentarily and shifted her parasol to her other hand, holding the hem of her skirt. “How was your evening? How were your friends, your crew?”

“Fine. Everything was fine,” he said.

“But not ‘fine’?” she asked.

“Fine—but very strange.” He looked back at her. “You notice everything, don’t you?”