Shogun - Clavell James (бесплатные полные книги .TXT) 📗

But he was concentrating on the wall of the adjoining room that he could smash in so easily.

She looked at the wall also, then put herself between him and the wall, and sat, motioning him to do the same.

But he could not. He stood readying himself for the charge that would destroy them all, goaded by a whimper that followed another blow.

"Iye!" Fujiko shook in terror.

He waved her out of the way.

"Iye, iye," she begged again.

"IMA!"

At once Fujiko got up and motioned him to wait as she rushed noiselessly for the swords that lay in front of the takonama, the little alcove of honor. She picked up the long sword, her hands shaking, drew it out of the scabbard, and prepared to follow him through the wall. At that instant there was a final blow and a rising torrent of rage. The other shoji slammed open, and unseen, Buntaro stamped away, followed by the guard. There was silence in the house for a moment, then the sound of the garden gate crashing closed.

Blackthorne went for his door. Fujiko darted in the way but he shoved her aside and pulled it open.

Mariko was still on her knees in one corner of the next room, a livid welt on her cheek, her hair disheveled, her kimono in tatters, bad bruises on her thighs and lower back.

He rushed over to pick her up but she cried out, "Go away, please go away, Anjin-san!"

He saw the trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. "Jesus, how bad are you-"

"I told you not to interfere. Please go away," she said in the same calm voice that belied the violence in her eyes. Then she saw Fujiko, who had stayed at the doorway. She spoke to her. Fujiko obediently took Blackthorne's arm to lead him away but he tore out of her grasp. "Don't! Iye!"

Mariko said, "Your presence here takes away my face and gives me no peace or comfort and shames me. Go away!"

"I want to help. Don't you understand?"

"Don't you understand? You have no rights in this. This is a private I quarrel between husband and wife."

"That's no excuse for hitting-"

"Why don't you listen, Anjin-san? He can beat me to death if he wishes. He has the right and I wish he would - even that! Then I wouldn't have to endure the shame. You think it's easy to live with my shame? Didn't you hear what I told you? I'm Akechi Jinsai's daughter!"

"That's not your fault. You did nothing!"

"It is my fault and I am my father's daughter." Mariko would have stopped there. But, looking up and seeing his compassion, his concern, and his love, and knowing how he so honored truth, she allowed some of her veils to fall.

"Tonight was my fault, Anjin-san," she said. "If I would weep as he wants, beg forgiveness as he wants, cringe and be petrified and fawn as he wants, open my legs in pretended terror as he desires, do all these womanly things that my duty demands, then he'd be like a child in my hand. But I will not."

"Why?"

"Because that's my revenge. To repay him for leaving me alive after the treachery. To repay him for sending me away for eight years and leaving me alive all that time. And to repay him for ordering me back into life and leaving me alive." She sat back painfully and arranged her tattered kimono closer around her. "I'll never give myself to him again. Once I did, freely, even though I detested him from the first moment I saw him."

"Then why did you marry him? You've said women here have rights of refusal, that they don't have to marry against their wishes."

"I married him to please Lord Goroda, and to please my father. I was so young I didn't know about Goroda then, but if you want the truth, Goroda was the cruelest, most loathsome man that was ever born. He drove my father to treachery. That's the real truth! Goroda!" She spat the name. "But for him we'd all be alive and honored. I pray God that Goroda's committed to hell for all eternity." She moved carefully, trying to ease the agony in her side. "There's only hatred between my husband and me, that's our karma. It would be so easy for him to allow me to climb into the small place of death."

"Why doesn't he let you go? Divorce you? Even grant you what you want?"

"Because he's a man." A ripple of pain went through her and she grimaced. Blackthorne was on his knees beside her, cradling her. She pushed him away, fought for control. Fujiko, at the doorway, watched stoically.

"I'm all right, Anjin-san. Please leave me alone. You mustn't. You must be careful."

"I'm not afraid of him."

Wearily she pushed the hair out of her eyes and stared up searchingly. Why not let the Anjin-san go to meet his karma, Mariko asked herself. He's not of our world. Buntaro will kill him so easily. Only Toranaga's personal protection has shielded him so far. Yabu, Omi, Naga, Buntaro - any one of them could be provoked so easily into killing him.

He's caused nothing but trouble since he arrived, neh? So has his knowledge. Naga's right: the Anjin-san can destroy our world unless he's bottled up.

What if Buntaro knew the truth? Or Toranaga? About the pillowing...

"Are you insane?" Fujiko had said that first night.

"No."

"Then why are you going to take the maid's place?"

"Because of the sake and for amusement, Fujiko-chan, and for curiosity," she had lied, hiding the real reason: because he excited her, she wanted him, she had never had a lover. If it was not tonight it would never be, and it had to be the Anjin-san and only the Anjin-san.

So she had gone to him and had been transported and then, yesterday, when the galley arrived, Fujiko had said privately, "Would you have gone if you'd known your husband was alive?"

"No. Of course not," she had lied.

"But now you're going to tell Buntaro-sama, neh? About pillowing with the Anjin-san?"

"Why should I do that?"

"I thought that might be your plan. If you tell Buntaro-sama at the right time his rage will burst over you and you'll be gratefully dead before he knows what he's done."

"No, Fujiko-san, he'll never kill me. Unfortunately. He'll send me to the eta if he has excuse enough - if he could get Lord Toranaga's approval - but he'll never kill me."

"Adultery with the Anjin-san - would that be enough?"

"Oh yes."

"What would happen to your son?"

"He would inherit my disgrace, if I am disgraced, neh?"

"Please tell me if you ever think Buntaro-sama suspects what happened. While I'm consort, it's my duty to protect the Anjin-san."

Yes, it is, Fujiko, Mariko had thought then. And that would give you the excuse to take open vengeance on your father's accuser that you are desperate for. But your father was a coward, so sorry, poor Fujiko. Hiro-matsu was there, otherwise your father would be alive now and Buntaro dead, for Buntaro is hated far more than they ever despised your father. Even the swords you prize so much, they were never given as a battle honor, they were bought from a wounded samurai. So sorry, but I'll never be the one to tell you, even though that also is the truth.

"I'm not afraid of him," Blackthorne was saying again.

"I know," she said, the pain taking her. "But please, I beg you, be afraid of him for me."

Blackthorne went for the door.

Buntaro was waiting for him a hundred paces away in the center of the path that led down to the village - squat, immense, and deadly. The guard stood beside him. It was an overcast dawn. Fishing boats were already working the shoals, the sea calm.

Blackthorne saw the bow loose in Buntaro's hands, and the swords, and the guard's swords. Buntaro was swaying slightly and this gave him hope that the man's aim would be off, which might give him time to get close enough. There was no cover beside the path. Beyond caring, he cocked both pistols and bore down on the two men.

To hell with cover, he thought through the haze of his blood lust, knowing at the same time that what he was doing was insane, that he had no chance against the two samurai or the long-range bow, that he had no rights whatsoever to interfere. And then, while he was still out of pistol range, Buntaro bowed low, and so did the guard. Blackthorne stopped, sensing a trap. He looked all around but there was no one near. As though in a dream, he saw Buntaro sink heavily onto his knees, put his bow aside, his hands flat on the ground, and bow to him as a peasant would bow to his lord. The guard did likewise.