Not knowing Chinese made the wait more disturbing to him, because the corridors in the Eastern Bureau were a meshwork of whispers, swarmed with finely robed officials who never looked ahead as they walked but instead exchanged quiet nods and cryptic gestures on which millions of lives depended. Hasekura, who in his homeland had occupied a rather modest position in the apparatus of government, felt tiny amid the flow of messages whose consequences bore more weight that his individual fate. Not even the courts in Madrid and Rome, where the world was being run, had had such a disconcerting effect on him.
One eunuch walked directly toward him and addressed him in Portuguese. “You come from Liuqiu?”
Hasekura didn’t reply immediately, as much because he was surprised that anyone in Beijing wished to talk to him as because his Spanish only allowed him a limited grasp of its sister tongue. He glanced at the guard assigned to him, hoping that his unspoken request for permission to converse would be understood. Upon hearing the barest of grunts, he decided to take that as encouragement. “That is true,” he said in a very slow Spanish that had no assurance of being understood. In any case, the eunuch smiled and proceeded to ask more questions. Their exchange dragged for a long hour, during which Hasekura retold who he was, whom he served, where he’d been and what work he’d done there, and how badly he needed to be given passage to Japan. He didn’t know who this man was or why he’d been sent to probe him, but for the past week he’d been so desperate for a helpful pair of ears that he jumped, unthinking, at the chance to make his case before someone who might be in a position to arrange for his trip home.
Only after their talk ended and the eunuch left did it occur to Hasekura that the Chinese government shouldn’t have known to send someone who spoke Portuguese.
Xiaobo exited Chief Eunuch Wei’s office looking slightly less worried. Hasekura thanked God that she was still alive. She greeted him, then spoke to the guard in Chinese. “What’s the word around the palace?”
“Your letter stirred everyone’s nerves.”
“As it should.”
“You’re lucky that it jumped from regional office to regional office until it reached me.”
“Then it did its job,” she replied with unconcealed pride.
“Don’t gloat,” he warned. “Lady Zheng has heard of this, and to put it mildly, she’s not happy.”
Xiaobo’s smile faded. Lady Zheng, the previous Emperor’s favorite concubine, the mother of a failed pretender to the throne, and the daughter of a high-ranking officer in the Embroidered Guard, was the main reason why Xiaobo didn’t get a moment of rest in protecting the Emperor, or her true identity.
“You have to be careful with whatever it is you’re planning. It’s no small matter to have brought a barbarian into the Forbidden City.”
“I intend to take him to the Emperor,” she whispered.
The guard’s face lost its color. “How are you going to pull that off? Every minister will oppose it.”
She smiled quietly. “You will help, of course.”
He began to protest, but held himself. It was technically true that the Eastern Bureau had the authority to enlist the Embroidered Guard for tasks pertaining to the protection of the empire. Xiaobo, who even to this closest of allies posed as the eunuch Liang, took her leave and signaled Hasekura to follow her.
She took him out of the building and looked around them before saying, “You will talk to the Emperor. I’ve made sure of it.”
“Rome has already sent missionaries here. Why is it so important that he hears me?”
“I didn’t take all the risks I took to have you chat with him. I brought you as a healer.”
“What? I’m no healer.”
She sat on the steps outside of the palace complex to rest her feet for a while. They had not been bound for very long, but their full strength would never come back. “You said you were a healer. You saved the king of Liuqiu.”
Hasekura opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His heart was busy searching for an exit from his body, and his back shook from a sudden cascade of cold sweat. He saw for the first time how gravely she had misunderstood him and how trapped he was as a result. “What… what am I supposed to do to the Emperor?”
“The same thing you did in Liuqiu.”
“But will I even be admitted to his presence?” he asked, hopeful for some way that her plan could fail.
“Leave that to me. The Chief Eunuch has granted me his permission, and Guard Guangkui has access to the Emperor’s private chamber.”
“Is that the guard—”
“He is.”
He mulled over his self-inflicted predicament and asked, “What happens if the Emperor dies before I see him?”
“No, that won’t happen. Guangkui has instructions to keep soldiers watching him and to use a taster for his medicines. Trust me on this: I will not allow him to die.”
“But what if he does?”
She decided to be honest. “Someone may use that as an excuse to have us executed.” His terrified face prompted further explanation. “The Emperor has enemies in his own family.”
“How does that relate to us?”
She looked around them. The paths between government buildings appeared empty, but she knew all the ways someone could lurk in unseen spaces. She continued to speak in a hush, praying that Lady Zheng’s servants didn’t understand Japanese. “The previous Emperor wanted to give the throne to the son he’d had with his favorite concubine, but the law favored the eldest, who reigns now.”
“I can see why that would bother her.”
She gave the slightest nod. “Five years ago, she hired an assassin. He was stopped, but she managed to avoid punishment.”
“Where is she now?”
“She still has her own palace in the Forbidden City. We suspect she’s behind the Emperor’s sickness.”
“Do you have proof?”
Her voice became almost inaudible. “Lady Zheng arranged for an orgy to follow the coronation. She made sure everyone heard she’d hired the prostitutes as a gesture of reconciliation. The Emperor fell ill the next day.”
Hasekura took a moment to process all the intrigue he’d fallen into. Suddenly it occurred to him to ask, “Does her son live?”
She waved the question away. “Yes, but far. He has no claim to the throne anyway.”
“Then why is she hurting the Emperor?”
With a sigh that came from a sore place, Xiaobo replied, “To be honest, I can’t blame her. She has become a widow. In China, that means her own life is over too.”
His mind made a connection. “Is that what happened to you?” She opened her eyes wide and had another quick look around them. He went on, “Feet are only bound if the girl is to marry. You must have been too young when he died. You had to find a way to support yourself.”
“You shouldn’t talk so loudly,” she snapped. “Why did your lord even give you a diplomatic job?”
Seeing the truth at last, he confessed, “I was expendable.”
She examined his clothes. “I thought you were something of a lord yourself.”
“A minor one. I was given this assignment as a chance to improve my family’s name.”
She wanted to know what exactly had caused his family to fall into disrepute, but chose to let him keep some pride. “I think you’ve done plenty to bring merit to yourself, with enough to spare for your grandchildren.”
“What good is that? Can’t you see that I’m stuck here?”
“Only for now. After you do your magic on the Emperor, things should go back to normal. He might even allow you to leave China.”