"Good evening, Eminence," Ferriera said, his eyes seeing only Blackthorne. "So, Inge-"
"Good evening, Captain-General." Dell'Aqua pointed angrily at the stake. "Is this your idea?"
"Yes, Eminence."
"Go back aboard your ship!"
"This is a military decision."
"Go aboard your ship!"
"No! Pesaro!" At once the bosun and the bayoneted shore party came on guard and advanced toward Blackthorne. Ferriera slid out the pistol. "So, Ingeles, we meet again."
"That's something that pleases me not at all." Blackthorne's sword came out of its scabbard. He held it awkwardly with two hands, the, broken haft hurting him.
"Tonight you will be pleased in hell," Ferriera said thickly.
"If you had any courage you'd fight - man to man. But you're not a man, you're a coward, a Spanish coward without balls."
"Disarm him!" Ferriera ordered.
At once the ten men went forward, bayonets leveled. Blackthorne backed away but he was surrounded. Bayonets stabbed for his legs and he slashed at an assailant, but as the man retreated another attacked from behind. Then dell'Aqua came to his senses and shouted, "Put down your guns! Before God, I order you to stop!"
The seamen were flustered. All muskets were zeroed in on Blackthorne, who stood helplessly at bay, sword high.
"Get back, all of you," dell'Aqua called out. "Get back! Before God, get back! Are you animals?"
Ferriera said, "I want that man!"
"I know, and I've already told you you can't have him! Yesterday and today! Are you deaf? God give me patience! Order your men aboard!"
"I order you to turn around and go away!"
"You order me?"
"Yes, I order you! I'm Captain-General, Governor of Macao, Chief Officer of Portugal in Asia, and that man's a threat to the State, the Church, the Black Ship, and Macao!"
"Before God, I'll excommunicate you and all your crew if this man's harmed. You hear?" Dell'Aqua spun on the musketeers, who backed off, frightened. Except Pesaro. Pesaro stood his ground defiantly, his pistol loose in his hand, waiting for Ferriera's order. "Get on that ship and out of the way!"
"You're making a mistake," Ferriera stormed. "He's a threat! I'm Military Commander in Asia and I say-"
"This is a Church matter, not a military de-" Blackthorne was dazed, hardly able to think or to see, his head once more exploding with pain. Everything had happened so fast, one moment guarded, the next not, one moment betrayed to the Inquisition, the next escaped, then to be betrayed again and now defended by the Chief Inquisitor. Nothing made sense.
Ferriera was shouting, "I caution you again! As God's my judge, you're making a mistake and I'll inform Lisbon!"
"Meanwhile order your men aboard or I'll remove you as Captain-General of the Black Ship!"
"You don't have that power!"
"Unless you order your men aboard and order the Ingeles unharmed at once, I declare you excommunicated - and any man who serves under you, in any command, excommunicated, and curse you and all who serve you, in the Name of God!"
"By the Madonna-" Ferriera stopped. He was not afraid for himself but now his Black Ship was jeopardized and he knew most of his crew would desert him unless he obeyed. For a moment he contemplated shooting the priest, but that would not take away the curse. So he conceded. "Very well - back aboard, everyone! Stand down!"
Obediently the men scattered, glad to be away from the priest's wrath. Blackthorne was still bewildered, half wondering if his head was tricking him. Then, in the melee, Pesaro's hatred burst. He aimed. Dell'Aqua saw the covert movement and leaped forward to protect Blackthorne with his own bulk. Pesaro pulled the trigger but at that moment arrows impaled him, the pistol fired harmlessly, and he collapsed screaming.
Blackthorne spun around and saw six Kiyama archers, fresh arrows already in their bows. Standing near them was Michael. The officer spoke harshly. Pesaro gave a last shriek, his limbs contorted, and he died.
Michael trembled as he broke the silence. "The officer says, so sorry, but he was afraid for the Father-Visitor's life." Michael was begging God to forgive him for giving the signal to fire. But Pesaro had been warned, he reasoned. And it is my duty to see the Father-Visitor's orders are obeyed, that his life is protected, that assassins are stamped out and no one excommunicated.
Dell'Aqua was on his knees beside the corpse of Pesaro. He made the sign of the cross and said the sacred words. The Portuguese around him were watching the samurai, craving the order to kill the murderers. The rest of Kiyama's men were hastening from the Mission gate where they had remained, and a number of Grays were streaming back from the galley area to investigate. Through his almost blinding rage Ferriera knew he could not afford a fight here and now. "Everyone back aboard! Bring Pesaro's body!" Sullenly the shore party began to obey.
Blackthorne lowered his sword but did not sheathe it. He waited stupefied, expecting a trick, expecting to be captured and dragged aboard.
On the quarterdeck Rodrigues said quietly, "Stand by to repel boarders, but carefully, by God!" Instantly men slipped to action stations. "Cover the Captain-General! Prepare the longboat . . . ."
Dell'Aqua got up and turned on Ferriera, who stood arrogantly at the companionway, prepared to defend his ship. "You're responsible for that man's death!" the Father-Visitor hissed. "Your fanatic, vengeful lust and unho-"
"Before you say something publicly you may regret, Eminence, you'd better think carefully," Ferriera interrupted. "I bowed to your order even though I knew, before God, you were making a terrible mistake. You heard me order my men back! Pesaro disobeyed you, not me, and the truth is you're responsible if anyone is. You prevented him and us from doing our duty. That Ingeles is the enemy! It was a military decision, by God! I'll inform Lisbon." His eyes checked the battle readiness of his ship and the approaching samurai.
Rodrigues had moved to the main deck gangway. "Captain-General, I can't get out to sea with this wind and this tide."
"Get a longboat ready to haul us out if need be."
"It's being done."
Ferriera shouted at the seamen carrying Pesaro, telling them to hurry. Quickly all were back aboard. The cannon were manned, though discreetly, and everyone had two muskets nearby. Left and right, samurai were massing on the wharf but they made no overt move to interfere.
Still on the dock Ferriera said peremptorily to Michael, "Tell them all to disperse! There's no trouble here - nothing for them to do. There was a mistake, a bad one, but they were right to shoot the bosun. Tell them to disperse." He hated to say it and wanted to kill them all but he could almost smell the peril on the wharf and he had no option now but to retreat.
Michael did as he was ordered. The officers did not move.
"You'd better go on, Eminence," Ferriera said bitterly. "But this is not the last of it - you'll regret saving him!"
Dell'Aqua too felt the explosiveness surrounding them. But it did not touch him. He made the sign of the cross and said a small benediction, then he turned away. "Come along, Pilot."
"Why are you letting me go?" Blackthorne asked, the pain in his head agonizing, still not daring to believe it.
"Come along, Pilot!"
"But why are you letting me go? I don't understand."
"Nor do I," Ferriera said. "I'd like to know the real reason too, Eminence. Isn't he still a threat to us and the Church?"
Dell'Aqua stared at him. "Yes," he wanted to say, to wipe the arrogance off the popinjay's face in front of him. "But the bigger threat is the immediate war and how to buy time for you and fifty years of Black Ships, and whom to choose: Toranaga or Ishido. You understand nothing of our problems, Ferriera, or the stakes involved, or the delicacy of our position here or the dangers."