He had found the effort of thinking too great. Nothing seemed to fit. He had doused salt water over his head to try to clear it but that had not helped. At length he had given up and had walked back aimlessly along the shore, past the jetty, across the square and through the village, up to this house where he was to live now and where, he remembered, there had not been a dwelling before. High up, dominating the opposite hillside, was another sprawling dwelling, part thatch, part tile, within a tall stockade, many guards at the fortified gateway.
Samurai were strutting through the village or standing talking in groups. Most had already marched off behind their officers in disciplined groups up the paths and over the hill to their bivouac encampment. Those samurai that Blackthorne met, he absently greeted and they greeted him in return. He saw no villagers.
Blackthorne stopped outside the gate that was set into the fence. There were more of the peculiar characters painted over the lintel and the door itself was cutout in ingenious patterns designed to hide and at the same time to reveal the garden behind.
Before he could open the door it swung inward and a frightened old man bowed him through.
"Konbanwa, Anjin-san." His voice quavered piteously-Good evening.
"Konbanwa," he replied. "Listen, old man, er-o namae ka?"
"Namae watashi wa, Anjin-sama? Ah, watashi Ueki-ya . . . Ueki-ya." The old man was almost slavering with relief.
Blackthorne said the name several times to help remember it and added "san" and the old man shook his head violently. "lye gomen nasai! lye 'san,' Anjin-sama. Ueki-ya! Ueki-ya!"
"All right, Ueki-ya." But Blackthorne thought, why not "san" like everyone else?
Blackthorne waved his hand in dismissal. The old man hobbled away quickly. "I'll have to be more careful. I have to help them," he said aloud.
A maid came apprehensively onto the veranda through an opened shoji and bowed low.
"Konbanwa, Anjin-san."
"Konbanwa, " he replied, vaguely recognizing her from the ship. He waved her away too.
A rustle of silk. Fujiko came from within the house. Mariko was with her.
"Was your walk pleasant, Anjin-san?"
"Yes, pleasant, Mariko-san." He hardly noticed her or Fujiko or the house or garden.
"Would you like cha? Or perhaps sake? Or a bath perhaps? The water is hot." Mariko laughed nervously, perturbed by the look in his eyes. "The bath house is not completely finished, but we hope it will prove adequate."
"Sake, please. Yes, some sake first, Mariko-san."
Mariko spoke to Fujiko, who disappeared inside the house once more. A maid silently brought three cushions and went away. Mariko gracefully sat on one.
"Sit down, Anjin-san, you must be tired."
"Thank you."
He sat on the steps of the veranda and did not take off his thongs. Fujiko brought two flasks of sake and a teacup, as Mariko had told her, not the tiny porcelain cup that should have been used.
"Better to give him a lot of sake quickly," Mariko had said. "It would be better to make him quite drunk but Lord Yabu needs him tonight. A bath and sake will perhaps ease him."
Blackthorne drank the proffered cup of warmed wine without tasting it. And then a second. And a third.
They had watched him coming up the hill through the slit of barely opened shojis.
"What's the matter with him?" Fujiko had asked, alarmed.
"He's distressed by what Lord Yabu said - the promise to the village."
"Why should that bother him? He's not threatened. It's not his life that was threatened."
"Barbarians are very different from us, Fujiko-san. For instance, the Anjin-san believes villagers are people, like any other people, like samurai, some perhaps even better than samurai."
Fujiko had laughed nervously. "That's nonsense, neh? How can peasants equal samurai?"
Mariko had not answered. She had just continued watching the Anjin-san. "Poor man," she said.
"Poor village!" Fujiko's short upper lip curled disdainfully. "A stupid waste of peasants and fishermen! Kasigi Yabu-san's a fool! How can a barbarian learn our tongue in half a year? How long did the barbarian Tsukku-san take? More than twenty years, neh? And isn't he the only barbarian who's ever been able to talk even passable Japanese?"
"No, not the only one, though he's the best I've ever heard. Yes, it's difficult for them. But the Anjin-san's an intelligent man and Lord Toranaga said that in half a year, isolated from barbarians, eating our food, living as we do, drinking cha, bathing every day, the Anjin-san will soon be like one of us."
Fujiko's face had been set. "Look at him, Mariko-san . . . so ugly. So monstrous and alien. Curious to think that as much as I detest barbarians, once he steps through the gate I'm committed and he becomes my lord and master. "
"He's brave, very brave, Fujiko. And he saved Lord Toranaga's life and is very valuable to him."
"Yes, I know, and that should make me dislike him less but, so sorry, it doesn't. Even so, I'll try with all my strength to change him into one of us. I pray Lord Buddha will help me."
