She repeated it slowly, with more apologies. "Good," he said. "Good. I'll see you later."
She began to get up but he shook his head and went into the courtyard. The day was overcast now, the air suffocating. Guards awaited him. Soon he was in the donjon forecourt. Mariko was there, more slender than ever, more ethereal, her face alabaster under her rust-gold parasol. She wore somber brown, edged with green.
"Ohayo, Anjin-san. Ikaga desu ka?" she asked, bowing formally.
He told her that he was fine, happily keeping up their custom of talking in Japanese for as long as he could, turning to Portuguese only when he was tired or when they wished to be more secretive.
"Thou..." he said cautiously as they walked up the stairs of the donjon.
"Thou," Mariko echoed, and went immediately into Portuguese with the same gravity as last night. "So sorry, please, no Latin today, Anjin-san, today Latin cannot sit well - Latin cannot serve the purpose it was made for, neh?"
"When can I talk to you?"
"That's very difficult, so sorry. I have duties...."
"There's nothing wrong, is there?"
"Oh no," she replied. "Please excuse me, what could be wrong? Nothing's wrong."
They climbed another flight in silence. On the next level their passes were checked as always, guards leading and following them. Rain began heavily and this eased the humidity.
"It'll rain for hours," he said.
"Yes. But without the rains there's no rice. Soon the rains will stop altogether, in two or three weeks, then it will be hot and humid until the autumn." She looked out of the windows at the enveloping cloudburst. "You'll enjoy the autumn, Anjin-san."
"Yes." He was watching Erasmus, far distant, down beside the wharf. Then the rains obscured his ship and he climbed a little way. "After we've talked with Lord Toranaga we'll have to wait till this has passed. Perhaps there'd be somewhere here we could talk?"
"That might be difficult," she said vaguely, and he found this odd. She was usually decisive and implemented his polite "suggestions" as the orders they would normally be considered. "Please excuse me, Anjin-san, but things are difficult for me at the moment, and there are many things I have to do." She stopped momentarily and shifted her parasol to her other hand, holding the hem of her skirt. "How was your evening? How were your friends, your crew?"
"Fine. Everything was fine," he said.
"But not 'fine'?" she asked.
"Fine - but very strange." He looked back at her. "You notice everything, don't you?"
"No, Anjin-san. But you didn't mention them and you've been thinking about them greatly this last week or so. I'm no magician. So sorry."
After a pause, he said, "You're sure you're all right? There's no problem with Buntaro-san, is there?"
He had never discussed Buntaro with her or mentioned his name since Yokose. By agreement that specter was never conjured up by either of them since the first moment. "This is my only request, Anjin-san," she had whispered the first night. "Whatever happens during our journey to Mishima or, Madonna willing, to Yedo, this has nothing to do with anyone but us, neh? Nothing is to be mentioned between us about what really is. Neh? Nothing. Please?"
"I agree. I swear it."
"And I do likewise. Finally, our journey ends at Yedo's First Bridge."
"No."
"There must be an ending, my darling. At First Bridge our journey ends. Please, or I will die with agony over fear for you and the danger I have put you in...."
Yesterday morning he had stood at the threshold of First Bridge, a sudden weight on his spirit, in spite of his elation over Erasmus.
"We should cross the bridge now, Anjin-san," she had said.
"Yes. But it is only a bridge. One of many. Come along, Mariko-san. Walk beside me across this bridge. Beside me, please. Let us walk together," then added in Latin, "and believe that thou art carried and that we go hand in hand into a new beginning."
She stepped out of her palanquin and walked beside him until they reached the other side. There she got back into the curtained litter and they went up the slight rise. Buntaro was waiting at the castle gate.
Blackthorne remembered how he had prayed for a lightning bolt to come out of the sky.
"There's no problem with him, is there?" he asked again as they came to the final landing.
She shook her head.
Toranaga said, "Ship very ready, Anjin-san? No mistake?"
"No mistake, Sire. Ship perfect."
"How many extra men - how many more want for ship...."
Toranaga glanced at Mariko. "Please ask him how many extra crew he'll need to sail the ship properly. I want to be quite sure he understands what I want to know."
"The Anjin-san says, to sail her a minimum of thirty seamen and twenty gunners. His original crew was one hundred and seven, including cooks and merchants. To sail and fight in these waters, the complement of two hundred samurai would be enough."
"And he believes the other men he needs could be hired in Nagasaki?"
"Yes, Sire."
Toranaga said distastefully, "I certainly wouldn't trust mercenaries."
"Please excuse me, do you wish me to translate that, Sire?"
"What? Oh no, never mind that."
Toranaga got up, still pretending peevishness, and looked out of the windows at the rain. The whole city was obscured by the downpour. Let it rain for months, he thought. All gods, make the rain last until New Year. When will Buntaro see my brother? "Tell the Anjin-san I'll give him his vassals tomorrow. Today's terrible. This rain will go on all day. There's no point in getting soaked."
"Yes, Sire," he heard her say and smiled ironically to himself. Never in his whole life had weather prevented him from doing anything. That should certainly convince her, or any other doubters, that I've changed permanently for the worse, he thought, knowing he could not yet diverge from his chosen course. "Tomorrow or the next day, what does it matter? Tell him when I'm ready I'll send for him. Until then he's to wait in the castle."
He heard her pass on the orders to the Anjin-san.
"Yes, Lord Toranaga, I understand," Blackthorne replied for himself. "But may I respectfully ask: Possible go Nagasaki quick? Think important. So sorry."
"I'll decide that later," Toranaga said brusquely, not making it easy for him. He motioned him to leave. "Good-bye, Anjin-san. I'll decide your future soon." He saw that the man wanted to press the point but politely didn't. Good, he thought, at least he's learning some manners! "Tell the Anjin-san there's no need for him to wait for you, Mariko-san. Good-bye, Anjin-san."
Mariko did as she was ordered. Toranaga turned back to contemplate the city and the cloudburst. He listened to the sound of the rain. The door closed behind the Anjin-san. "What was the quarrel about?" Toranaga asked, not looking at her.
"Sire?"