"It's one who enjoys food and sets a fine table, Senhora Maria," Alvito said, using her baptismal name. He had marked the sudden change on Blackthorne's face. He could almost see the saliva glands working and feel the stomach-churning agony. Tonight when he had seen the repast set out in the great cabin, the gleaming silver and white tablecloth and chairs, real leather-cushioned chairs, and smelt the new breads and butter and rich meats, he himself had been weak with hunger, and he wasn't starved for food or unaccustomed to Japanese cuisine.
It is so simple to catch a man, he told himself. All you need to know is the right bait. "Good-by, Captain-Pilot!" Alvito turned and walked for the gangway. Blackthorne followed.
"What's amiss, Ingeles?" Rodrigues asked.
"Where's the food? Then we can talk. First the food you promised." Blackthorne stood shakily on the main deck.
"Please follow me," Alvito said.
"Where are you taking him, Father?"
"Of course to the great cabin. Blackthorne can eat while Lord Toranaga and the Captain-General talk."
"No. He can eat in my cabin."
"It's easier, surely, to go where the food is."
"Bosun! See that the pilot's fed at once - all that he needs, in my cabin, anything from the table. Ingeles, do you want grog, or wine or beer?"
"Beer first, then grog."
"Bosun, see to it, take him below. And listen, Pesaro, give him some clothes out of my locker, and boots, everything. And stay with him till I call you."
Wordlessly Blackthorne followed Pesaro the bosun, a large burly man, down the companionway. Alvito began to go back to dell'Aqua and Toranaga, who were talking through Mariko near the companionway, but Rodrigues stopped him.
"Father! Just a moment. What did you say to him?"
"Only that you would like to see him and that we had food aboard. "
"But I was offering him the food?"
"No, Rodrigues, I didn't say that. But wouldn't you want to offer food to a fellow pilot who was hungry?"
"That poor bastard's not hungry, he's starving. If he eats in that state he'll gorge like a ravenous wolf, then he'll vomit it up as fast as a drunk-gluttoned whore. Now, we wouldn't want one of us, even a heretic, to eat like an animal and vomit like an animal in front of Toranaga, would we, Father? Not in front of a piss-cutting sonofabitch particularly one as clean-minded as a pox-mucked whore's cleft!"
"You must learn to control the filth of your tongue, my son," Alvito said. "It will send you to hell. You'd better say a thousand Ave Marias and go without food for two days. Bread and water only. A penance to God's Grace to remind you of His Mercy."
"Thank you, Father, I will. Gladly. And if I could kneel I would, and I'd kiss your cross. Yes, Father, this poor sinner thanks you for your God-given patience. I must guard my tongue."
Ferriera called out from the companionway, "Rodrigues, are you coming below?"
"I'll stay on deck while that bitch galley's there, Captain-General. If you need me I'm here." Alvito began to leave. Rodrigues noticed Mariko. "Just a minute, Father. Who's the woman?"
"Donna Maria Toda. One of Toranaga's interpreters."
Rodrigues whistled tonelessly. "Is she good?"
"Very good."
"Stupid to allow her aboard. Why did you say 'Toda'? She's one of old Toda Hiro-matsu's consorts?"
"No. She's the wife of his son."
"Stupid to bring her aboard." Rodrigues beckoned one of the seamen. "Spread the word the woman speaks Portuguese."
"Yes, senhor." The man hurried away and Rodrigues turned back to Father Alvito.
The priest was not in the least intimidated by the obvious anger. "The Lady Maria speaks Latin too - and just as perfectly. Was there anything else, Pilot?"
"No, thank you. Perhaps I'd better get on with my Hail Marys."
"Yes, you should." The priest made the sign of the cross and left. Rodrigues spat into the scuppers and one of the helmsmen winced and crossed himself.
"Go nail yourself to the mast by your green-addled foreskin!" Rodrigues hissed.
"Yes, Captain-Pilot, sorry, senhor. But I get nervous near the good Father. I meant no harm." The youth saw the last grains of sand fall through the neck of the hourglass and he turned it.
"At the half, go below, and take a God-cursed pail and water and a scrubbing brush with you, and clean up the mess in my cabin. Tell the bosun to bring the Ingeles aloft and you make my cabin clean. And it'd better be very clean, or I'll have your guts for garters. And while you're doing it, say Ave Marias for your God-cursed soul."
"Yes, Senhor Pilot," the youth said weakly. Rodrigues was a fanatic, a madman, about cleanliness, and his own cabin was like the ship's Holy Grail. Everything had to be spotless, no matter what the weather.
"There must be a solution, Captain-General," dell'Aqua said patiently.
"Do you want an overt act of war against a friendly nation?"
"Of course not."
