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“But Sire, this isn’t—”

“This you will do. Now. Or I will withdraw all my support, forever, from you and your Church.”

“Very well, Sire. I agree. Before God.”

“Good. Thank you. Explain to him your agreement.” Alvito obeyed, then Toranaga settled himself on the sand dunes and waved his fan against the encroaching night bugs. “Now, please tell me, Anjin-san, what happened at Osaka.”

Blackthorne began haltingly, but gradually his mind began to relive it all and soon the words gushed and Father Alvito had difficulty in keeping up. Toranaga listened in silence, never interrupting the flow, just adding cautious encouragement when needed, the perfect listener.

Blackthorne finished at dawn. By then Toranaga knew everything there was to tell—everything the Anjin-san was prepared to tell, he corrected himself. The priest knew it also but Toranaga was sure there was nothing in it the Catholics or Kiyama could use against him or against Mariko or against the Anjin-san, who, by now, hardly noticed the priest.

“You’re sure the Captain-General would have put you to the stake, Anjin-san?” he asked again.

“Oh, yes. If it hadn’t been for the Jesuit. I’m a heretic in his eyes—fire’s supposed to ‘cleanse’ your soul somehow.”

“Why did the Father-Visitor save you?”

“I don’t know. It was something to do with Mariko-sama. Without my ship I can’t touch them. Oh, they would have thought of that themselves but perhaps she gave them a clue how to do it.”

“What clue? What would she know about burning ships?”

“I don’t know. Ninja got into the castle. Perhaps ninja got through the men here. My ship was sabotaged. She saw the Father-Visitor at the castle the day she died. I think she told him how to burn Erasmus—in return for my life. But I have no life without my ship, Sire. None.”

“You’re wrong, Anjin-san. Thank you, Tsukku-san,” Toranaga said in dismissal. “Yes, I appreciate your labor. Please get some rest now.”

“Yes, Sire. Thank you.” Alvito hesitated. “I apologize for the Captain-General. Men are born in sin, most stay in sin though they’re Christians.”

“Christians are born in sin, we’re not. We’re a civilized people who understand what sin really is, not illiterate peasants who know no better. Even so, Tsukku-san, if I’d been your Captain-General I would not have let the Anjin-san go while I had him in my grasp. It was a military decision, a good one. I think he’ll live to regret he didn’t insist—and so will your Father-Visitor.”

“Do you want me to translate that, Sire?”

“That was for your ears. Thank you for your help.” Toranaga returned the priest’s salutation and sent men to accompany him back to his house, then turned to Blackthorne. “Anjin-san. First swim.”

“Sire?”

“Swim!” Toranaga stripped and went into the water in the growing light. Blackthorne and the guards followed. Toranaga swam strongly out to sea, then turned and circled the wreck. Blackthorne came after him, refreshed by the chill. Soon Toranaga returned ashore. Servants had towels ready now, fresh kimonos and cha, saké and food.

“Eat, Anjin-san.”

“So sorry, not hungry.”

“Eat!”

Blackthorne took a few mouthfuls, then retched. “So sorry.”

“Stupid. And weak. Weak like a Garlic Eater. Not like hatamoto. Neh?

“Sire?”

Toranaga repeated it. Brutally. Then he pointed at the wreck, knowing that now he had Blackthorne’s full attention. “That’s nothing. Shigata ga nai. Unimportant. Listen: Anjin-san is hatamoto, neh? Not Garlic Eater. Understand?”

“Yes, so sorry.”

Toranaga beckoned his bodyguard, who handed him the sealed scroll. “Listen, Anjin-san, before Mariko-sama left Yedo, she gave me this. Mariko-sama say if you live after Osaka—if you live, understand—she ask me to give this to you.”

Blackthorne took the proffered scroll and, after a moment, broke the seal.

“What message say, Anjin-san?” Toranaga asked.

Mariko had written in Latin: “Thou. I love thee. If this is read by thee then I am dead in Osaka and perhaps, because of me, thy ship is dead too. I may sacrifice this most prized part of thy life because of my Faith, to safeguard my Church, but more to save thy life which is more precious to me than everything—even the interest of my Lord Toranaga. It may come to a choice, my love: thee or thy ship. So sorry, but I choose life for thee. This ship is doomed anyway—with or without thee. I will concede thy ship to thine enemy so that thou may live. This ship is nothing. Build another. This thou canst do—were you not taught to be a builder of ships as well as a navigator of ships? I believe Lord Toranaga will give thee all the craftsmen, carpenters, and metal craftsmen necessary—he needs you and your ships—and from my personal estate I have bequeathed thee all the money necessary. Build another ship and build another life, my love. Take next year’s Black Ship, and live forever. Listen, my dear one, my Christian soul prays to see thee again in a Christian heaven—my Japanese hara prays that in the next life I will be whatever is necessary to bring thee joy and to be with thee wherever thou art. Forgive me—but thy life is all important. I love thee.”

“What message say, Anjin-san?”

“So sorry, Sire. Mariko-sama say this ship not necessary. Say build new ship. Say—”

“Ah! Possible? Possible, Anjin-san?”

Blackthorne saw the daimyo’s flashing interest. “Yes. If get . . .” He could not remember the word for carpenter.

“If Toranaga-sama give men, ship-making men, neh? Yes. I can.” In his mind the new ship began to take shape. Smaller, much smaller than Erasmus. About ninety to a hundred tons would be all he could manage, for he had never overseen or designed a complete ship by himself before, though Alban Caradoc had certainly trained him as a shipwright as well as pilot. God bless you, Alban, he exulted. Yes, ninety tons to start with. Drake’s Golden Hind was thereabouts and remember what she endured! I can get twenty cannon aboard and that would be enough to . . . “Christ Jesus, the cannon!”

He whirled and peered at the wreck, then saw Toranaga and all of them staring at him and realized he’d been talking English to them. “Ah, so sorry, Sire. Think too quick. Big guns—there, in sea, neh? Must get quick!”

Toranaga spoke to his men, then faced Blackthorne again. “Samurai say everything from ship at camp. Some things fished from sea, shallow, here at low tide, neh? Now in camp. Why?”

Blackthorne felt light-headed. “Can make ship. If have big guns can fight enemy. Can Toranaga-sama get gunpowder?”

“Yes. How many carpenters? How much need?”

“Forty carpenters, blacksmiths, oak for timbers, do you have oak here? Then I’ll need iron, steel, I’ll set up a forge and I’ll need a master . . .” Blackthorne realized he was talking in English again. “Sorry. I write on paper. Carefully. And I think carefully. Please, you give men to help?”

“All men, all money. At once. I need ship. At once! How fast can you build it?”

“Six months from the day we lay keel.”

“Oh, not faster?”

“No, so sorry.”

“Later we talk some more, Anjin-san. What else Mariko-sama say?”

“Little more, Sire. Say give money to help ship, her money. Say also sorry if . . . if she help my enemy destroy ship.”