Shogun - Clavell James (лучшие книги онлайн TXT) 📗

Mariko was solemn now. She had quickly grasped the significance of Blackthorne's lesson. And so had Toranaga.

"My Master says this is a worthless conversation. How could they give themselves such rights?"

"They didn't," Blackthorne said gravely. "The Pope gave them the rights, the Vicar of Christ on earth himself. In return for spreading the word of God."

"I don't believe it," she exclaimed.

"Please translate what I said, senhora. It is honto."

She obeyed and spoke at length, obviously unsettled. Then: "My Master - my Master says you are - you are just trying to poison him against your enemies. What is the truth? On your own life, senhor."

"Pope Alexander VI set the first line of demarcation in 1493," Blackthorne commenced, blessing Alban Caradoc who had hammered so many facts into him when he was young, and Father Domingo for informing him about Japanese pride and giving him clues to Japanese minds. "In 1506 Pope Julius II sanctioned changes to the Treaty of Tordesillas, signed by Spain and Portugal in 1494, which altered the line a little. Pope Clement VII sanctioned the Treaty of Saragossa in 1529, barely seventy years ago, which drew a second line here" his finger traced a line of longitude in the sand which cut through the tip of southern Japan. "This gives Portugal the exclusive right to your country, all these countries - from Japan, China to Africa - in the way I have said. To exploit exclusively - by any means - in return for spreading Catholicism." Again he waited and the woman hesitated, in turmoil, and he could feel Toranaga's growing irritation at having to wait for her to translate.

Mariko forced her lips to speak and repeated what he had said. Then she listened to Blackthorne again, detesting what she heard. Is this really possible? she asked herself. How could His Holiness say such things? Give our country to the Portuguese? It must be a lie. But the pilot swore by the Lord Jesus.

"The pilot says, Lord," she began, "in - in the days that these decisions were made by His Holiness the Pope, all their world, even the Anjin-san's country was Catholic Christian. The schism had not not yet occurred. So, so these - these papal decisions would, of course, be binding on - on all nations. Even so, he adds that though the Portuguese have exclusivity to exploit Japan, Spain and Portugal are quarreling incessantly about the ownership because of the richness of our trade with China."

"What's your opinion, Kiri-san?" Toranaga said, as shocked as the others. Only the boy toyed with his fan uninterestedly.

"He believes he's telling the truth," Kiri said. "Yes, I think that. But how to prove it - or part of it?"

"How would you prove it, Mariko-san?" Toranaga asked, most perturbed by Mariko's reaction to what had been said, but very glad that he had agreed to use her as interpreter.

"I would ask Father Tsukku-san," she said. "Then, too, I would send someone - a trusted vassal - out into the world to see. Perhaps with the Anjin-san."

Kiri said, "If the priest does not support these statements, it may not necessarily mean this Anjin-san is lying, neh?" Kiri was pleased that she had suggested using Mariko as an interpreter when Toranaga was seeking an alternative to Tsukku-san. She knew Mariko was to be trusted and that, once Mariko had sworn by her alien God, she would ever be silent under rigorous questioning by any Christian priest. The less those devils know, the better, Kiri thought. And what a treasue of knowledge this barbarian has!

Kiri saw the boy yawn again and was glad of it. The less the child understands the better, she told herself. Then she said, "Why not send for the leader of the Christian priests and ask about these facts? See what he says. Their faces are open, mostly, and they have almost no subtlety."

Toranaga nodded, his eyes on Mariko. "From what you know about the Southern Barbarians, Mariko-san, would you say that a Pope's orders would be obeyed?"

"Without doubt."

"His orders would be considered as though the voice of the Christian God was speaking?"

"Yes."

"Would all Catholic Christians obey his orders?"

"Yes."

"Even our Christians here?"

"I would think, yes."

"Even you?"

"Yes, Sire. If it was a direct order from His Holiness to me personally. Yes, for my soul's salvation." Her gaze was firm. "But until that time I will obey no man but my liege lord, the head of my family, or my husband. I am Japanese, a Christian yes, but first I am samurai."

"I think it would be good then, that this Holiness stays away from our shores." Toranaga thought for a moment. Then he decided what to do with the barbarian, Anjin-san. "Tell him . . ." He stopped. All their eyes went to the path and to the elderly woman who approached. She wore the cowled habit of a Buddhist nun. Four Grays were with her. The Grays stopped and she came on alone.

They all bowed low. Toranaga noticed that the barbarian copied him and did not get up or stare, which all barbarians except Tsukku-san would have done, according to their own custom. The pilot learns quickly, he thought, his mind still blazing from what he had heard. Ten thousand questions were crowding him, but, according to his discipline, he channeled them away temporarily to concentrate on the present danger.

Kiri had scurried to give the old woman her cushion and helped her to sit, then knelt behind her, in motionless attendance.

"Thank you, Kiritsubo-san," the woman said, returning their bow. Her name was Yodoko. She was the widow of the Taiko and now, since his death, a Buddhist nun. "I'm sorry to come uninvited and to interrupt you, Lord Toranaga."

"You're never unwelcome or uninvited, Yodoko-sama."

"Thank you, yes, thank you." She glanced at Blackthorne and squinted to try to see better. "But I think I did interrupt. I can't see who - Is he a barbarian? My eyes are getting worse and worse. It's not Tsukku-san, is it?"

"No, he's the new barbarian," Toranaga said.

"Oh, him!" Yodoko peered closer. "Please tell him I can't see very well, hence my impoliteness."

Mariko did as she was told. "He says many people in his country are shortsighted, Yodoko-sama, but they wear spectacles. He asked if we have them. I told him yes, some of us - from the Southern Barbarians. That you used to wear them but don't anymore."

"Yes. I prefer the mist that surrounds me. Yes, I don't like a lot of what I see nowadays." Yodoko turned back and looked at the boy, pretending to have just seen him. "Oh! My son! So there you are. I was looking for you. How good it is to see the Kwampaku!" She bowed deferentially.

"Thank you, First Mother," Yaemon beamed and bowed back. "Oh, you should have heard the barbarian. He's been drawing us a map of the world and telling us funny things about people who don't bathe at all! Never in their whole lives and they live in snow houses and wear skins like evil kami."

The old lady snorted. "The less they come here the better, I think, my son. I could never understand them and they always smell so horrible. I could never understand how the Lord Taiko, your father, could tolerate them. But then he was a man and you're a man, and you've more patience than a lowly woman. You've a good teacher, Yaemon-sama." Her old eyes flicked back to Toranaga. "Lord Toranaga's got more patience than anyone in the Empire."

"Patience is important for a man, vital for a leader," Toranaga said. "And a thirst for knowledge is a good quality too, eh, Yaemon-sama? And knowledge comes from strange places."

"Yes, Uncle. Oh yes," Yaemon said. "He's right, isn't he, First Mother?"

"Yes, yes. I agree. But I'm glad I'm a woman and don't have to worry about these things, neh?" Yodoko hugged the boy, who had come to sit beside her. "So, my son. Why am I here? To fetch the Kwampaku. Why? Because the Kwampaku is late for his food and late for his writing lessons."