Toranaga questioned the captain, who answered at length, then Mariko said to Blackthorne, "My Master asks, do you think there'll be a storm?"
"My nose says yes. But not for days. Two or three. Can we wait that long?"
"Your nose tells you? There is a smell to a storm?"
"No, senhora. It's just an expression."
Toranaga pondered. Then he gave an order.
"We are going to within hailing distance, Anjin-san."
"Then tell him to go directly astern of her. That way we're the smallest target. Tell him they're treacherous - I know how seriously treacherous they are when their interests are threatened. They're worse than the Dutch! If that ship helps Toranaga escape, Ishido will take it out on all Portuguese and they won't risk that."
"My Master says we'll soon have that answer."
"We're naked, senhora. We've no chance against those cannon. If the ship's hostile - even if it's simply neutral - we're sunk."
"My Master says, yes, but it will be your duty to persuade them to be benevolent."
"How can I do that? I'm their enemy."
"My Master says, in war and in peace, a good enemy can be more valuable than a good ally. He says you will know their minds - you will think of a way to persuade them."
"The only sure way's by force."
"Good. I agree, my Master says. Please tell me how you would pirate that ship."
"What?"
"He said, good, I agree. How would you pirate the ship, how would you conquer it? I require the use of their cannon. So sorry, isn't that clear, Anjin-san?"
"And again I say I'm going to blow her out of the water," Ferriera, the Captain-General, declared.
"No," dell'Aqua replied, watching the galley from the quarterdeck.
"Gunner, is she in range yet?"
"No, Don Ferriera," the chief gunner replied. "Not yet."
"Why else is she coming at us if not for hostile reasons, Eminence? Why doesn't she just escape? The way's clear." The frigate was too far from the harbor mouth for anyone aboard to see the encroaching fishing boats crowding in ambush.
"We risk nothing, Eminence, and gain everything," Ferriera said. "We pretend we didn't know Toranaga was aboard. We thought the bandits - bandits led by the pirate heretic - were going to attack us. Don't worry, it will be easy to provoke them once they're in range."
"No," dell'Aqua ordered.
Father Alvito turned back from the gunwale. "The galley's flying Toranaga's flag, Captain-General."
"False colors!" Ferriera added sardonically, "That's the oldest sea trick in the world. We haven't seen Toranaga. Perhaps he isn't aboard."
"No."
"God's death, war would be a catastrophe! It'll hurt, if not ruin, the Black Ship's voyage this year. I can't afford that! I won't have anything interfere with that!"
"Our finances are in a worse position than yours, Captain-General," dell'Aqua rapped. "If we don't trade this year, the Church is bankrupt, is that clear? We've had no funds from Goa or Lisbon for three years and the loss of last year's profit . . . . God give me patience! I know better than you what's at stake. The answer is no!"
Rodrigues was sitting painfully in his seachair, his leg in a splint resting on a padded stool that was lashed safe near the binnacle. "The Captain-General's right, Eminence. Why should she come at us, if not to try something? Why not escape, eh? Eminence, we've a pisscutting opportunity here."
"Yes, and it is a military decision," Ferriera said.
Alvito turned on him sharply. "No, his Eminence is arbiter in this, Captain-General. We must not hurt Toranaga. We must help him."
Rodrigues said, "You've told me a dozen times that once war starts it'll go on forever. War's started, hasn't it? We've seen it start. That's got to hurt trade. With Toranaga dead the war's over and all our interests are safe. I say blow the ship to hell."
"We even get rid of the heretic," Ferriera added, watching Rodrigues. "You prevent a war for the glory of God, and another heretic goes to torment."
"It would be unwarranted interference in their politics," dell'Aqua replied, avoiding the real reason.
"We interfere all the time. The Society of Jesus is famous for it. We're not simple, thick-headed peasants!"
"I'm not suggesting you are. But while I'm aboard you will not sink that ship."
"Then kindly go ashore."
"The sooner the archmurderer is dead, the better, Eminence," Rodrigues suggested. "Him or Ishido, what's the difference? They're both heathen, and you can't trust either of them. The Captain-General's right, we'll never get an opportunity like this again. And what about our Black Ship?" Rodrigues was pilot with a fifteenth part of all the profit. The real pilot of the Black Ship had died of the pox in Macao three months ago and Rodrigues had been taken off his own ship, the Santa Theresa, and given the new post, to his everlasting joy. Pox was the official reason, Rodrigues reminded himself grin - fly, though many said the other pilot was knifed in the back by a ronin in a whorehouse brawl. By God, this is my great chance. Nothing's going to interfere with that!
"I will accept full responsibility," Ferriera was saying. "It's a military decision. We're involved in a native war. My ship's in danger." He turned again to the chief gunner. "Are they in range yet?"
"Well, Don Ferriera, that depends what you wish." The chief gunner blew on the end of the taper, which made it glow and spark. "I could take off her bow now, or her stern, or hit her amidships, whichever you prefer. But if you want a man dead, a particular man, then a moment or two would bring them into killing range."
"I want Toranaga dead. And the heretic."
"You mean the Ingeles, the pilot?"
"Yes."
"Someone will have to point the Jappo out. The pilot I'll recognize, doubtless."
Rodrigues said, "If the pilot's got to die to kill Toranaga and stop the war then I'm for it, Captain-General. Otherwise he should be spared. " "He's a heretic, an enemy of our country, an abomination, and he's already caused us more trouble than a nest of vipers."
"I've already pointed out that first the Ingeles is a pilot and last he's a pilot, one of the best in the world."
"Pilots should have special privileges? Even heretics?"
"Yes, by God. We should use him like they use us. It'd be a Godcursed waste to kill such experience. Without pilots there's no pisscutting Empire and no trade and no nothing. Without me, by God, there's no Black Ship and no profit and no way home, so my opinion's God-cursed important."
There was a cry from the masthead, "Ho on the quarterdeck, the galley's changing her course!" The galley had been heading straight for them but now she had swung a few points to port, out into the harbor.