CHAPTER 16
“What’s going on?” Father Mateo looked suspicious. “You’re never ‘just polite’ to Luis.”
“Perhaps my character is improving.” Hiro refilled the Jesuit’s tea and poured himself another cup as well. As before, he raised the cup to inhale the fragrant steam.
Father Mateo didn’t care for extravagant food or special teas, but Luis kept the Jesuit’s pantry stocked with ichibancha—the most-expensive, first-picked leaves. Hiro’s sensitive nose and tea-loving palate considered this a rare redeeming point in the merchant’s favor.
“Right,” the Jesuit said, “and I’m a Buddhist. What’s the truth?”
Hiro closed his eyes and drew another lingering breath. He sipped the tea and felt the liquid roll across his tongue.
“Hiro,” Father Mateo said expectantly.
Hiro sighed. A cultured man should not disrupt a special cup of tea with sour talk. He opened his eyes and lowered his cup.
“After I spoke with Jiro, I ran into a man from Koga.” He spoke softly to ensure his voice wouldn’t carry through the walls or across the rafters.
“A man . . . like you?” Father Mateo avoided the word “shinobi,” even at home, because Luis and Ana didn’t know the truth.
“He warned us to leave the city at once.” Hiro considered how much of Ozuru’s message to reveal. “Kyoto is no longer safe for you—or for Luis.”
“I hope that God will prevent a war,” Father Mateo said. “I pray for it every night and every morning.”
“Your god may have the power to prevent a war in Portugal,” Hiro said, “but the kami like a good war now and then.”
“There is only one God, and he can prevent a war in Japan, if he chooses.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Hiro asked.
“Then I will trust him anyway.”
Hiro shifted the conversation back to its original topic. “The man from Koga warned me that Hisahide has sent for a Portuguese merchant, a replacement for Luis.”
“Replacement?” Father Mateo echoed. “Luis hasn’t mentioned wanting to leave Kyoto. No more than usual, anyway, and he never truly means it.”
“Hisahide does not forgive disloyalty,” Hiro said.
“Do you mean Luis’s sale of Portuguese firearms to the warlord—the Miyoshi daimyo?” Father Mateo asked. “That happened months ago—and he didn’t follow through.”
“Fish will spoil with age; revenge does not,” Hiro said. “Hisahide will kill Luis, and perhaps you also, as soon as the other merchant reaches Kyoto.”
“He has no authority to kill us,” Father Mateo said. “Luis and I have an imperial pass. We are immune to punishment, unless we break the law.”
“You speak of authority,” Hiro said. “I speak of regrettable accidents. Mistaken identities. Bad translations. A samurai making a most unfortunate error. Apologies would be made, of course, and reparations paid to your king. But you and Luis Álvares will be dead.”
“You’re overreacting,” Father Mateo said.
Hiro raised his cup but didn’t drink. The tea was cold.
“What would you have me do? Leave the city?” Father Mateo asked. “I cannot abandon my congregation.”
“You can, and you will, if preserving your life requires it.” Hiro selected a rice ball from the plate. He expected the priest to argue, but Father Mateo did not respond.
Unfortunately, Hiro knew the Jesuit’s silence did not constitute consent.
After a moment just long enough to permit a change of subject without rudeness, Father Mateo asked, “How will you persuade Chou to admit what she knows about Emi’s trip to the river?”
Hiro smiled. “I’m not going to persuade her. You are.”
The following morning, Hiro and Father Mateo left the house right after breakfast. The sky was a deep, autumnal blue, and a heavy scent of wood smoke permeated the chilly air. At Hiro’s instruction, Father Mateo carried Emi’s coin in his purse.
The guard at Marutamachi Bridge nodded but didn’t stop them as they turned onto the path that paralleled the eastern side of the river.
“Do the samurai seem more relaxed to you?” Father Mateo asked.
“Relaxed?” Hiro resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the bridge.
“Less nervous,” Father Mateo said. “Is it possible that the emperor named Hisahide shogun without us knowing?”
“When the emperor names a shogun, it’s no secret,” Hiro said. “The guards have simply become complacent. No man can maintain vigilance forever.”
“Do they believe the threat of rebellion has passed?”
“Quite the opposite,” Hiro said. “The Ashikaga clan has lodged a formal objection to Hisahide’s claim on the shogunate. They haven’t begun an armed revolt, but only because they lack the strength, and numbers, to seize Kyoto. That could change if the proper claimant appeared at the city gates.”
“The proper claimant . . . Shogun Ashikaga’s brother?” Father Mateo asked.
Hiro nodded. “Rumors say he plans to claim the shogunate.”
“Will the emperor honor his claim, now that Hisahide controls the city?”
Hiro shrugged. “That depends on the size of the army he brings with him.”