"Why?"
"My father would never allow his daughters to learn sword or spear. He thought, wisely I believe, we should devote our time to learning gentler things. But sometimes a woman needs to protect her master and his house. The pistol's a good weapon for a woman, very good. It requires no strength and little practice. So now I can perhaps be a little more use to my Master, for I will surely blow any man's head off to protect him, and for the honor of our house."
Buntaro drained his cup. "I was proud when I heard you'd opposed Omi-san as you did. You were correct. Lord Hiro-matsu will be proud too."
"Thank you, Uncle. But I was only doing an ordinary duty." She bowed formally. "My Master asks if you would allow him the honor of talking with you now, if it pleases you."
He continued the ritual. "Please thank him but first may I bathe? If it pleases him, I'll see him when my wife returns."
Blackthorne waited. in the garden. Now he wore the Brown uniform kimono that Toranaga had given him with swords in his sash and a loaded pistol hidden under the sash. From Fujiko's hurried explanations and subsequently from the servants, he had gathered that he had to receive Buntaro formally, because the samurai was an important general and hatamoto, and was the first guest in the house. So he had bathed and changed quickly and had gone to the place that had been prepared.
He had seen Buntaro briefly yesterday, when he arrived. Buntaro had been busy with Toranaga and Yabu the rest of the day, together with Mariko, and Blackthorne had been left alone to organize the hurried attack demonstration with Omi and Naga. The attack was satisfactory.
Mariko had returned to the house very late. She had told him briefly about Buntaro's escape, the days of being hunted by Ishido's men, eluding them, and at last breaking through the hostile provinces to reach the Kwanto. "It was very difficult, but perhaps not too difficult, Anjin-san. My husband is very strong and very brave."
"What's going to happen now? Are you leaving?"
"Lord Toranaga orders that everything's to remain as it was. Nothing's to be changed."
"You're changed, Mariko. A spark's gone out of you."
"No. That's your imagination, Anjin-san. It's just my relief that he's alive when I was certain he was dead."
"Yes. But it's made a difference, hasn't it?"
"Of course. I thank God my Master wasn't captured - that he lived to obey Lord Toranaga. Will you excuse me, Anjin-san. I'm tired now. I'm sorry, I'm very very tired."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"What should you do, Anjin-san? Except to be happy for me and for him. Nothing's changed, really. Nothing is finished because nothing began. Everything's as it was. My husband's alive."
Don't you wish he were dead? Blackthorne asked himself in the garden. No.
Then why the hidden pistol? Are you filled with guilt?
No. Nothing began.
Didn't it?
No.
You thought you were taking her. Isn't that the same as taking her in fact?
He saw Mariko walk into the garden from the house. She looked like a porcelain miniature following half a pace behind Buntaro, his burliness seeming even greater by comparison. Fujiko was with her, and the maids.
He bowed. "Yokoso oide kudasareta, Buntaro-san." Welcome to my house, Buntaro-san.
They all bowed. Buntaro and Mariko sat on the cushions opposite him. Fujiko seated herself behind him. Nigatsu and the maid, Koi, began to serve tea and sake. Buntaro took sake. So did Blackthorne.
"Domo, Anjin-san. Ikaga desu ka?"
"Ii. Ikaga desu ka?"
"li. Kowa jozuni shabereru yoni natta na." Good. You're beginning to speak Japanese very well.
Soon Blackthorne became lost in the conversation, for Buntaro was slurring his words, speaking carelessly and rapidly.
"Sorry, Mariko-san, I didn't understand that."
"My husband wishes to thank you for trying to save him. With the oar. You remember? When we were escaping from Osaka."
"Ah, so desu! Domo. Please tell him I still think we should have put back to shore. There was time enough. The maid drowned unnecessarily. "
"He says that was karma."
"That was a wasted death," Blackthorne replied, and regretted the rudeness. He noticed that she did not translate it.
"My husband says that the assault strategy is very good, very good indeed."
"Domo. Tell him I'm glad he escaped unharmed. And that he's to command the regiment. And of course, that he's welcome to stay here."
"Domo, Anjin-san. Buntaro-sama says, yes, the assault plan is very good. But for himself he will always carry his bow and swords. He can kill at a much greater range, with great accuracy, and faster than a musket."
"Tomorrow I will shoot against him and we will see, if he likes."
"You will lose, Anjin-san, so sorry. May I caution you not to attempt that," she said.
Blackthorne saw Buntaro's eyes flick from Mariko to him and back again. "Thank you, Mariko-san. Say to him that I would like to see him shoot."
"He asks, can you use a bow?"
"Yes, but not as a proper bowman. Bows are pretty much out of date with us. Except the crossbow. I was trained for the sea. There we use only cannon, musket, or cutlass. Sometimes we use fire arrows but only for enemy sails in close quarters."
"He asks, how are they used, how do you make them, these fire arrows? Are they different from ours, like the ones used against the galley at Osaka?"
Blackthorne began to explain and there were the usual tiring interruptions and probing requestionings. By now he was used to their incredibly inquisitive minds about any aspect of war, but found it exhausting to talk through an interpreter. Even though Mariko was excellent, what she actually said was rarely exact. A long reply would always be shortened, some of what was spoken would, of course, be changed slightly, and misunderstandings occurred. So explanations had to be repeated unnecessarily.
But without Mariko, he knew that he could never have become so valuable. It's only knowledge that keeps me from the pit, he reminded himself. But that's no problem, because there's much to tell yet and a battle to win. A real battle to win. You're safe till then. You've a navy to plan. And then home. Safe.
He saw Buntaro's swords and the guard's swords and he felt his own and the oiled warmth of his pistol and he knew, truthfully, he would never be safe in this land. Neither he nor anyone was safe, not even Toranaga.
"Anjin-san, Buntaro-sama asks if he sends you men tomorrow, could you show them how to make these arrows?"
"Where can we get pitch?"
"I don't know." Mariko cross-questioned him on where it was usually found and what it looked like or smelled like, and on possible alternatives. Then she spoke to Buntaro at length. Fujiko had been silent all the while, her eyes and ears trained, missing nothing. The maids, well commanded by a slight motion of Fujiko's fan to an empty cup, constantly replenished the sake flasks.