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

Toranaga had pounded his pommel with momentary delight, then fell back into his melancholy as the other samurai had cheered. The bodyguard cleansed the blade carefully, using his silken sash to protect the steel. He sheathed the sword with satisfaction and returned it, saying something that Mariko explained later. "He just said, Anjin-san, that he was proud to be allowed to test such a blade. Lord Toranaga is suggesting you should nickname the sword 'Oil Seller,' because such a blow and such sharpness should be remembered with honor. Your sword has now become legend, neh?"

Blackthorne recalled how he had nodded, hiding his anguish. He was wearing "Oil Seller" now - Oil Seller it would be forevermore - the same sword that Toranaga had presented to him. I wish he'd never given it to me, he thought. But it wasn't all their fault, it was mine too. I shouted at the man, he was rude in return, and samurai may not be treated rudely. What other course was there? Blackthorne knew there was none. Even so, the killing had taken the joy out of the hunt for him, though he had to hide that carefully because Toranaga had been moody and difficult all day.

Just before noon, they had returned to Yokose, then there was Toranaga's meeting with Zataki and then after a steaming bath and massage, suddenly Father Alvito was standing in his way like a vengeful wraith, two hostile acolytes in attendance. "Christ Jesus, get away from me!"

"There's no need to be afraid, or to blaspheme." Alvito had said.

"God curse you and all priests!" Blackthorne said, trying to get hold of himself, knowing that he was deep in enemy territory. Earlier he'd seen half a hundred Catholic samurai trickling over the bridge to the Mass that Mariko had told him was being held in the forecourt of Alvito's inn. His hand sought the hilt of his sword, but he was not wearing it with his bathrobe, or carrying it as was customary, and he cursed his stupidity, hating to be unarmed.

"May God forgive you your blasphemy, Pilot. Yes. May He forgive you and open your eyes. I bear you no malice. I came to bring you a gift. Here, here's a gift from God, Pilot."

Blackthorne took the package suspiciously. When he opened it and saw the Portuguese-Latin-Japanese dictionary/grammar, a thrill rushed through him. He leafed through a few pages. The printing was certainly the best he had ever seen, the quality and detail of the information staggering. "Yes, this is a gift from God all right, but Lord Toranaga ordered you to give it to me."

"We obey only God's orders."

"Toranaga asked you to give it to me?"

"Yes. It was his request."

"And a Toranaga 'request' isn't an order?"

"That depends, Captain-Pilot, on who you are, what you are, and how great your faith." Alvito motioned at the book. "Three of our Brethren spent twenty-seven years preparing that."

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"We were asked to."

"Why didn't you avoid Lord Toranaga's request? You're more than cunning enough to do that."

Alvito shrugged. Quickly Blackthorne flicked through all the pages, checking. Excellent paper, the printing very clear. The numbers of the pages were in sequence.

"It's complete," Alvito said, amused. "We don't deal with half books."

"This is much too valuable to give away. What do you want in return?"

"He asked us to give it to you. The Father-Visitor agreed. So you are given it. It was only printed this year, at long last. It's beautiful, isn't it? We only ask you to cherish it, to treat the book well. It's worth treating well."

"It's worth guarding with a life. This is priceless knowledge, like one of your rutters. But this is better. What do you want for it?"

"We ask nothing in return."

"I don't believe you." Blackthorne weighed it in his hand, even more suspiciously. "You must know this makes me equal to you. It gives me all your knowledge and saves us ten, maybe twenty years. With this I'll soon be speaking as well as you. Once I can do that, I can teach others. This is the key to Japan, neh? Language is the key to anywhere foreign, neh? In six months I'll be able to talk direct to Toranaga-sama. "

"Yes, perhaps you will. If you have six months."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing more than what you already know. Lord Toranaga will be dead long before six months is up."

"Why? What news did you bring him? Ever since he talked with you he's been like a bull with half its throat ripped out. What did you say, eh?"

"My message was private, from his Eminence to Lord Toranaga. I'm sorry - I'm merely a messenger. But General Ishido controls Osaka, as you surely know, and when Toranaga-sama goes to Osaka everything is finished for him. And for you."

Blackthorne felt ice in his marrow. "Why me?"

"You can't escape your fate, Pilot. You helped Toranaga against Ishido. Have you forgotten? You put your hands violently on Ishido. You led the dash out of Osaka harbor. I'm sorry, but being able to speak Japanese, or your swords and samurai status won't help you at all. Perhaps it's worse now that you're samurai. Now you'll be ordered to commit seppuku and if you refuse..." Alvito had added in the same gentle voice, "I told you before, they are a simple people."

"We English are simple people, too," he said, with no little bravado. "When we're dead we're dead, but before that we put our trust in God and keep our powder dry. I've a few tricks left, never fear."

"Oh, I don't fear, Pilot. I fear nothing, not you nor your heresy, nor your guns. They're all spiked - as you're spiked."

"That's karma - in the hands of God - call it what you will," Blackthorne told him, rattled. "But by the Lord God, I'll get my ship back and then, in a couple of years, I'll lead a squadron of English ships out here and blow you all to hell out of Asia."

Alvito spoke again with his vast unnerving calm. "That's in the hands of God, Pilot. But here the die is cast and nothing of what you say will happen. Nothing. " Alvito had looked at him as though he were already dead. "May God have mercy on you, for as God is my judge, Pilot, I believe you'll never leave these islands."

Blackthorne shivered, remembering the total conviction with which Alvito had said that.

"You're cold, Anjin-san?"

Mariko was standing beside him on the veranda now, shaking out her umbrella in the dusk. "Oh, sorry, no, I'm not cold - I was just wandering." He glanced up at the pass. The whole column had vanished into the cloud bank. The rain had abated a little and had become mild and soft. Some villagers and servants splashed through the puddles, homeward bound. The forecourt was empty, the garden waterlogged. Oil lanterns were coming on throughout the village. No longer were there sentries on the gateway, or at both sides of the bridge. A great emptiness seemed to dominate the twilight.

"It's much prettier at night, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes," he replied, totally aware that they were alone together, and safe, if they were careful and if she wanted as he wanted.

A maid came and took her umbrella, bringing dry tabi socks. She knelt and began to towel Mariko's feet dry.

"Tomorrow at dawn we'll begin our journey, Anjin-san."

"How long will it take us?"

"A number of days, Anjin-san. Lord Toranaga said-" Mariko glanced off as Gyoko padded obsequiously from inside the inn. "Lord Toranaga told me there was plenty of time."

Gyoko bowed low. "Good evening, Lady Toda, please excuse me for interrupting you."

"How are you, Gyoko-san?"

"Fine, thank you, though I wish this rain would stop. I don't like this mugginess. But then, when the rains stop, we have the heat and that's so much worse, neh? But the autumn's not far away .... Ah, we're so lucky to have autumn to look forward to, and heavenly spring, neh?"

Mariko did not answer. The maid fastened the tabi for her and got up. "Thank you," Mariko said, dismissing her. "So, Gyoko-san? There's something I can do for you?"