Blackthorne tried to remain confident, aware that the priest was dominating him. “We presently rule the seas in Europe—most of the seas in Europe,” he said, correcting himself. Don’t get carried away. Tell the truth. Twist it a little, just as the Jesuit’s sure to be doing, but tell the truth. “We English smashed two huge Spanish and Portuguese war armadas—invasions—and they’re unlikely to be able to mount any others. Our small island’s a fortress and we’re safe now. Our navy dominates the sea. Our ships are faster, more modern, and better armed. The Spanish haven’t beaten the Dutch after more than fifty years of terror, Inquisition, and bloodshed. Our allies are safe and strong and something more—they’re bleeding the Spanish Empire to death. We’ll win because we own the seas and because the Spanish king, in his vain arrogance, won’t let an alien people free.”
“You own the seas? Our seas too? The ones around our coasts?”
“No, of course not, Toranaga-sama. I didn’t mean to sound arrogant. I meant, of course, European seas, though—”
“Good, I’m glad that’s clear. You were saying? Though . . . ?”
“Though on all the high seas, we will soon be sweeping the enemy away,” Blackthorne said clearly.
“You said ‘the enemy.’ Perhaps we’re your enemies too? What then? Will you try to sink our ships and lay waste our shores?”
“I cannot conceive of being enemy to you.”
“I can, very easily. What then?”
“If you came against my land I would attack you and try to beat you,” Blackthorne said.
“And if your ruler orders you to attack us here?”
“I would advise against it. Strongly. Our Queen would listen. She’s—”
“You’re ruled by a queen and not a king?”
“Yes, Lord Toranaga. Our Queen is wise. She wouldn’t—couldn’t make such an unwise order.”
“And if she did? Or if your legal ruler did?”
“Then I would commend my soul to God for I would surely die. One way or another.”
“Yes. You would. You and all your legions.” Toranaga paused for a moment. Then: “How long did it take you to come here?”
“Almost two years. Accurately one year, eleven months, and two days. An approximate sea distance of four thousand leagues, each of three miles.”
Father Alvito translated, then added a brief elaboration. Toranaga and Hiro-matsu questioned the priest, and he nodded and replied. Toranaga used his fan thoughtfully.
“I converted the time and distance, Captain-Pilot Blackthorne, into their measures,” the priest said politely.
“Thank you.”
Toranaga spoke directly again. “How did you get here? By what route?”
“By the Pass of Magellan. If I had my maps and rutters I could show you clearly, but they were stolen—they were removed from my ship with my letters of marque and all my papers. If you—”
Blackthorne stopped as Toranaga spoke brusquely with Hiro-matsu, who was equally perturbed.
“You claim all your papers were removed—stolen?”
“Yes.”
“That’s terrible, if true. We abhor theft in Nippon—Japan. The punishment for theft is death. The matter will be investigated instantly. It seems incredible that any Japanese would do such a thing, though there are foul bandits and pirates, here and there.”
“Perhaps they were misplaced,” Blackthorne said. “And put in safekeeping somewhere. But they are valuable, Lord Toranaga. Without my sea charts I would be like a blind man in a maze. Would you like me to explain my route?”
“Yes, but later. First tell me why you came all that distance.”
“We came to trade, peacefully,” Blackthorne repeated, holding on to his impatience. “To trade and go home again. To make you richer and us richer. And to try—”
“You richer and us richer? Which of those is most important?”
“Both partners must profit, of course, and trade must be fair. We’re seeking long-term trade; we’ll offer better terms than you get from the Portuguese and Spanish and give better service. Our merchants—” Blackthorne stopped at the sound of loud voices outside the room. Hiro-matsu and half the guards were instantly at the doorway and the others moved into a tight knot screening the dais. The samurai on the inner doors readied as well.
Toranaga had not moved. He spoke to Father Alvito.
“You are to come over here, Captain Blackthorne, away from the door,” Father Alvito said with carefully contained urgency. “If you value your life, don’t move suddenly or say anything.” He moved slowly to the left inner door and sat down near it.
Blackthorne bowed uneasily to Toranaga, who ignored him, and walked toward the priest cautiously, deeply conscious that from his point of view the interview was a disaster. “What’s going on?” he whispered as he sat.
The nearby guards stiffened menacingly and the priest said something quickly to reassure them. “You’ll be a dead man the next time you speak,” he said to Blackthorne, and thought, the sooner the better. With measured slowness, he took a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the sweat off his hands. It had taken all his training and fortitude to remain calm and genial during the heretic’s interview, which had been worse than even he and the Father-Visitor had expected.
“You’ll have to be present?” the Father-Visitor had asked last night.
“Toranaga has asked me specifically.”
“I think it’s very dangerous for you and for all of us. Perhaps you could plead sickness. If you’re there you’ll have to translate what the pirate says—and from what Father Sebastio writes he’s a devil on earth, as cunning as a Jew.”
“It’s much better I should be there, Eminence. At least I’ll be able to intercept Blackthorne’s less obvious lies.”
“Why has he come here? Why now, when everything was becoming perfect again? Do they really have other ships in the Pacific? Is it possible they’ve sent a fleet against Spanish Manila? Not that I care one whit for that pestilential city or any of the Spanish colonies in the Philippines, but an enemy fleet in the Pacific! That would have terrible implications for us here in Asia. And if he could get Toranaga’s ear, or Ishido’s, or any of the more powerful daimyos—well, it would be enormously difficult, to say the least.”
“Blackthorne’s a fact. Fortunately we’re in a position to deal with him.”
“As God is my judge, if I didn’t know better I’d almost believe the Spaniards—or more probably their misguided lackeys, the Franciscans and Benedictines—deliberately guided him here just to plague us.”
“Perhaps they did, Eminence. There’s nothing the monks won’t do to destroy us. But that’s only jealousy because we’re succeeding where they’re failing. Surely God will show them the error of their ways! Perhaps the Englishman will ‘remove’ himself before he does any harm. His rutters prove him to be what he is. A pirate and leader of pirates!”
“Read them to Toranaga, Martin. The parts where he describes the sacking of the defenseless settlements from Africa to Chile, and the lists of plunder and all the killings.”
“Perhaps we should wait, Eminence. We can always produce the rutters. Let’s hope he’ll damn himself without them.”
Father Alvito wiped the palms of his hands again. He could feel Blackthorne’s eyes on him. God have mercy on you, he thought. For what you’ve said today to Toranaga, your life’s not worth a counterfeit mite, and worse, your soul’s beyond redemption. You’re crucified, even without the evidence in your rutters. Should we send them back to Father Sebastio so he can return them to Mura? What would Toranaga do if the papers were never discovered? No, that’d be too dangerous for Mura.