Night, September 21 (Gregorian), 1620
Shuri
This is the moment when the currents of consequence meet. This is the day on which multiple threads of fate are twined into one.
Because Drake was knighted and the plank collapsed and our William didn’t live, he didn’t bring to Japan the shipbuilding methods that allowed the Western nations to cross big oceans. A vessel suitable for long distances has not yet been invented in Japan and is therefore not available to take ambassador Hasekura Tsunenaga back home from his last stop at Manila.
As the Mayflower is being captured, as Munk the Dane nears the peak of his sailing exploits, as René marches eastward with the Holy Emperor’s armies, the ill-suited trading ship Japan has sent to retrieve its ambassador can’t maneuver against the winds before hitting a semisubmerged rock and leaving its passengers stranded at the southernmost point under Japanese jurisdiction, the recently annexed archipelago of the Ryūkyūs.
The locals swarmed at the shore and launched boats to help rescue as many tripulants as they could. Tsunenaga was holding on to a floating piece of mast, his retinue nowhere to be seen. Rescuers carrying lanterns pulled up the survivors one by one into the boats. He was on the brink of fainting from exhaustion when they grabbed his arms and dragged him aboard. He cast a desperate look at the remains of the ship, following its unstoppable downward course until it was no longer visible in the depths, and the sea, illuminated by the boats’ lamps, showed him only his own terrified face.
He heard his rescuers shout instructions in their tongue and hours passed before someone spoke in Japanese. They took him to the warmth of a hearth. His luggage, of course, was hopelessly gone, but they gave him food and let him sleep.
Upon waking, he made his first mistake.
He said he needed to board a ship for Sendai. When they asked him why he was in such a hurry and who he was, he hoped they’d agree with him that his mission was crucial to Japan’s future, so he yielded a summary of his years of diplomacy abroad and his present mission. The Ryūkyūans, by that precious gift of contingency that sometimes told a people that they stood at a quickly moving crossroads in the flow of time, knew that this man was necessary to them, and by rapid word of mouth he was first described, then recommended and finally brought before the king of the islands.
Shō Nei was that type of tired man whose entire old age proceeded in reference to a single moment in the past that had thenceforth shackled him to a regret so heavy that it stopped the days from happening and left him solely capable of the basic action of continuing to exist. When Tsunenaga was ordered to sit in front of him, he stared at his guest with no apparent interest, and it seemed for a moment as if no conversation would occur.
“I hear you have seen Europe,” the king said after that long, uncertain pause. His Japanese was accented, but proper, and while Tsunenaga tried to compose his answer in his head, he also struggled to ascertain the precise level of politeness that he was required to use with an older man who ruled a tiny region that was, legally speaking, subordinate to the government he represented. The overlapping layers of the Japanese language could be a hindrance at such times. In the end he opted for maximum deference, because he knew that this bitter, joyless man had no reason to hold any sympathy for Japan, and he was going to have to get through him if he wanted to return home and deliver his report.
“Your Majesty is right. I have seen the imperial capitals in Spain and Italy. I also traveled twice across Mexico and both of its oceans.”
“How? Japan has no ships capable of such distances.”
“I bought passage on Portuguese ships for my mission.”
The king gave the barest nod. “Why did you go so far?”
“It is the wish of the Shōgun to settle terms of trade with Spain. Following his orders, Lord Masamune of Sendai sent me to speak with their king, whose name is Felipe.”
The king took a mental note of the expert way Tsunenaga had pronounced the name. It could mean that he’d had to learn Spanish to better perform his duties, but the king left that unremarked. “Did you succeed?”
“Unfortunately, my task was fruitless, Your Majesty.”
“Why?”
Tsunenaga was starting to feel a rising apprehension about where Shō Nei was going with his inquiry. His was a weak kingdom, which had been crushingly subdued by the Shōgun. Tsunenaga couldn’t imagine how his information could be of use to a former enemy who by now was all but finished, but as long as he was in his present state of absolute need for that man’s assistance, he saw no other option but to cooperate. “The king of Spain has been sending us priests of the Roman religion. He is not pleased with the fact that most Japanese are not following his wish that they convert.” The rest of the truth was that the Japanese government had begun to mistreat the missionaries in grievous ways, which Spanish spies had faithfully relayed to Madrid. But Tsunenaga would never speak ill of his government, even to someone on whose goodwill his fate hinged. There was, however, one key piece of information he had inadvertently let slip, due to a quirk of Japanese that served to mark the speaker’s allegiance to a group. When referring to those in Japan who had refused to convert, he had employed the verbal form corresponding to an out-group, which meant he didn’t count himself among them.
“You failed your lord. Why are you so eager to meet him? In your place, I would have stayed half a world away from his hand.”
“I have duties as a samurai. I have to recount what I saw and heard during my travels.”
“What you have to say must be more valuable than your titles and lands.”
“It is so, Your Majesty.” Tsunenaga’s insides coiled into a knot as he glimpsed the dangerous question he was in all likelihood going to be forced to answer.
“What news are you bringing to your lord?”
His mouth opened by its own will, rushing to disguise how laboriously he was trying to craft a version of the truth. “Your Majesty would grow weary of an enumeration of cities, officers, castles and ships.”
Ignoring the decoy, Shō Nei pursued. “Such vastness. This king Felipe must be immensely rich.”
“Very much so, Your Majesty.”
“Why does he send priests instead of merchants?”
“He does send merchants, but he cares more for his priests.”
The king grunted. “No one becomes very rich by neglecting trade. Are you sure you learned anything of value in Spain?”
He hurried to save his reputation, “I fulfilled my mission. I obtained an audience with king Felipe, and the message I carry are the words from his very mouth, with his reasons for rejecting our proposal,” and thus did he make his second mistake.
“Oh? Do tell.”
Saying no more would have been a mistake too, but his situation let him see no farther than his own life or death. Trembling at both the gravity of what he was revealing and the overpowering will that demanded to hear it, he gave his report. “The king of Spain demands that his priests be given full freedom to preach before he agrees to discuss any terms of trade. That includes giving up all the temples that the priests of Rome took from the priests of Shintō, and that the Shōgun ordered to seize back.”
“Those demands have no hope of being accepted. You’re foolishly going to the trouble of crossing the sea to bother your lord with empty words.”
Tsunenaga shook his head. “The king of Spain owns half the world. You know he rules over Manila, but the vast continent I had to cross before reaching his capital also belongs to him. In all his possessions I found temples of the Roman church, with countless followers. If Your Majesty has doubts of his intentions, it is only because Your Majesty has not visited the lands under his power. The kingdom of Spain places great importance on the dissemination of their faith, and they have become exceedingly effective at it.”