"Are those additional Frenchmen coming with the intent to teach your Kiris.h.i.tan beliefs to the j.a.panese?" Hond asked sarcastically. "That is strictly prohibited, as you know.... Why are you trying to force a religion that we despise onto us?"

Pet.i.tjean raised his head with conviction and replied, "We ... we believe that the teachings of the Kiris.h.i.tan faith will bring salvation to the j.a.panese people. Our aim is for your salvation."

Hond sat up straight and said, "Lord Pet.i.tjean. What we're trying to make you understand is that this is an annoyance to us. We would like you to leave j.a.pan alone. You see, the j.a.panese have been able to live happily for a very long while without knowing anything about your Kiris.h.i.tan teachings.... In spite of that, today ...well, and even three hundred years ago, you come from Europe to stir up j.a.pan and make trouble for us. That's why j.a.pan closed its doors."

"You're saying that the Europeans came to stir up trouble in j.a.pan three hundred years ago?" Pet.i.tjean asked defiantly. "We came to engage in trade and to share the teachings of Christianity that we believe to be true."

"Lord Pet.i.tjean, let's be honest here." A fierce look flashed across Hond's face. It was the first time Pet.i.tjean had seen this perpetually jovial man look so ruthless. "Of course, there were some who came to j.a.pan for trade and some who came to teach the Kiris.h.i.tan beliefs. I know that from reading through doc.u.ments in the magistrate's office. There's no question that there were virtuous bateren and iruman5 who provided free medical care for the j.a.panese. But in exchange, during their voyage to j.a.pan the Europeans attacked parts of China and India, subjected them to their own rule, and robbed them of their lands.... That is what j.a.pan feared. The j.a.panese did not ban your teachings because they were Kiris.h.i.tan. It was because they feared the avarice of the Western nations that sought to take over j.a.pan with the help of the local Kiris.h.i.tans."

Pet.i.tjean blushed unwittingly. Hond Shuntar had obviously just struck at something that was highly painful and embarra.s.sing for Pet.i.tjean.

"But ...," Pet.i.tjean hoa.r.s.ely protested, "but it's wrong for you to think that the mistakes made by Kiris.h.i.tan nations like Spain or Portugal were inspired by Kiris.h.i.tan teachings. The Kiris.h.i.tan faith did not teach people to pilfer land in India or China or to take control of those countries." There was a lack of confidence in Pet.i.tjean's strained voice. Neither he nor Father Laucaigne believed it was in any way proper that the Christian nations in the sixteen and seventeenth centuries had invaded Asia and Africa and turned them into colonies. Pet.i.tjean could not help but feel that this Asian man, Hond, had every right to be critical of those actions.

"Lord Pet.i.tjean." Obvious contempt showed on Hond's broad face. He was fully aware that this particular issue was one that was painful to the missionary and one he wished to keep buried. "I can't agree with your rationalizations. If what you said were true, why did your Kiris.h.i.tan papa say nothing and disregard the fact that the Kiris.h.i.tan nations were stealing Asian lands, invading our countries, and killing our people?"

"His Holiness did protest."

"With his lips only. But I'm certain that behind the scenes he approved of spreading the Kiris.h.i.tan teachings in the vanquished countries. Or would it be more accurate to say that he turned a blind eye to those activities in order to spread your Kiris.h.i.tan teachings? Lord Pet.i.tjean, why can't you just say that it was a mistake perpetrated by Kiris.h.i.tans? Lord Pet.i.tjean, you've instigated an uprising in j.a.pan right now so that you can share your Kiris.h.i.tan teachings. You're no different from the bateren of the past."

Recoiling from Shuntar's arguments, Pet.i.tjean made an attempt to argue that at least he himself had no such intentions. But with cold precision Hond struck the fatal blow by asking, "Well, then, why is it that while the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans are suffering in prison, you snugly enjoy your little haven here at the Nambanji?"

Hond Shuntar realized he had gone too far. Pet.i.tjean's pallid face made it evident that he was struggling desperately to repress his anger. But Hond had no desire to amend his statement.

"Lord Pet.i.tjean, allow me to teach you something.... All but one of the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans has sworn an oath that they reject your religion. Eventually we intend to free them."

With a sallow face Pet.i.tjean muttered, "You have brutally tortured those poor peasants."

"A few of them, yes. We had no choice. We had to do it as a warning for the others...." Clutching the sheath of his sword in his right hand, Shuntar bowed and left the room. Normally Pet.i.tjean would have seen him to the door, but today he sat motionless in his chair.

The sun still baked the garden of the Nambanji. Cicadas screeched violently. And the girl with the towel-wrapped head was still tugging at weeds.

"It's good of you to work so hard. It must be difficult to weed when the sun's so hot," Hond gently consoled the girl. "Do the foreigners here treat you well?"

"Yes."

"Are you ... a Kiris.h.i.tan?"

"No!" Kiku quickly shook her head.

"Ah. Well, that's good." He nodded and started off when an urgent voice from behind called out to him.

"Excuse me!" When he turned around, Kiku picked up a cloth to wipe her hands and asked, "Since your lordship is an official of the magistrate's office, if you know what's happened to the people from Nakano, then maybe you know a man named Seikichi ...?" She could say no more. Hond stood where he was, regarding Kiku as he repeated his question, "Are you ... one of the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans?"

"I'm not from Nakano. I was born in Magome. There's not a single Kiris.h.i.tan in Magome."

"Is that so? Then listen carefully to me. It's fine for you to work here, but you must never become a Kiris.h.i.tan. Their religion is illegal. That's why the people of Nakano have been arrested by the magistrate and been subjected to severe torture."

"Torture?" Kiku's face went pale.

"That's right. Some suffer so much pain they come back covered in blood. And it's because they believe in a heretical religion. Do you understand?"

Shuntar did not say this to Kiku to threaten or torment her. He merely wished to give a stern warning against becoming a Kiris.h.i.tan to this woman who worked at the Nambanji.

He could have had no idea what a shock his news inflicted on this young woman. He set off walking toward the grove of trees where the cicadas screeched noisily....

Kiku was trembling, quivering. Seikichi is being tortured....

Fear and torment racked her body. She had no idea what forms of torture were used by the magistrate's office. But she could almost see before her eyes the pathetic, unresisting body of Seikichi as the officers and constables cursed and kicked and stomped on him and beat him repeatedly with their fists. The man she loved was at that very moment suffering humiliation and agony.

That knowledge caused her to feel the same torment he was experiencing. That's the way with a woman. And Kiku had become that kind of woman.

"Ahh!" She covered her face with both hands and crouched down on the ground. Overhead, a swarm of large brown cicadas nesting in a large camphor tree shrieked as if to mock her.

Why did you have to become a Christian? She lifted her head resolutely. It's not Seikichi's fault. He's a good person. It's that Kiris.h.i.tan religion that has jumbled his mind and brought this cruel punishment on him.

No mother considers her own child bad. She tries desperately to believe that someone else ruined her child. Kiku, too, was overcome by the same sort of agonized feelings shared by all women.

The Kiris.h.i.tan faith-for Kiku, it came down to that one woman. That woman, of course, was the Santa Maria that Seikichi so adored. He had given Kiku a medaille engraved with that woman's image. And once, he had knelt with a look of rapture on his face before her statue in the Nambanji.

This is all her fault. She's to blame for everything that's happened.

Defiantly she marched straight to the door of the church. She put her weight against the door to open it.

With Ma.s.s completed, the chapel was empty, dark, and silent. Once it became known that the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans had been arrested, spectators suddenly stopped appearing on the church grounds.

To the side of the altar flickered a tiny light fueled with rapeseed oil. It was a sign that the Eucharist representing Christ's body had been placed at the altar.

To the side of the altar was that woman: the statue of Santa Maria stared fixedly toward Kiku. The statue of the Blessed Mother that Seikichi had gazed on with such rapture....

It's your fault! Kiku glared at the other woman. Even when frowning, her face was beautiful.

You're a woman, too. So you must understand how I feel. I prayed to you every single day that nothing terrible would happen to Seikichi.... But ... but you made terrible things happen to him. Since you're a woman ... you must understand how sad ... how painful ... how painful ... Tears poured in a deluge from Kiku's eyes. There was nothing else ... nothing else Kiku could say. She looked up at the statue of the woman, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with resentment.

Since you're a woman ... you must understand how sad ...

Heaving with sobs, groaning, her shoulders shaking, Kiku continued to remonstrate with the statue. She muttered protests. Since she was not a Kiris.h.i.tan, she knew nothing about prayers to the Blessed Mother, but her protests and her sobs were surely one form of human prayer.

The statue of the Blessed Mother Mary looked down at Kiku with wide eyes. With her large eyes open wide, she listened carefully to Kiku's prayers of anger, of protests, and of curses.

Since you're a woman ... you must understand how sad ...

Kiku did not know that the Blessed Mother also had had someone she loved very much taken from her. The one she loved, like Seikichi, had been arrested and beaten, had bled, and had died on a cross-but Kiku did not know that. Kiku did not know that just as she herself was doing now, this woman had also once wept in pain and torment.

It was silent in the chapel that afternoon. In the silence, all that could be heard was Kiku's intermittent, seemingly interminable sobbing. In the light of day, the streets of Nagasaki were like a desert; the black shadows of houses dozed along the roadways; a man in front of the gate shared by the magistrate's office and the Sakuramachi Prison sat on his haunches and gnawed on a melon; and in Nagasaki Bay the waves lapped languidly at the sh.o.r.e.

Nagasaki Bay was also visible from Pet.i.tjean's room. Unaware that Kiku was in the chapel, Pet.i.tjean sat with his head resting in both hands, struggling to rid himself of the anger he had felt since his conversation with Hond.

As he gazed at the bay of Nagasaki, which glimmered in the sun like the sparkle of countless needles, his anger gradually abated, and he reached a point that he could ponder coolly what Hond Shuntar had said.

If I were a j.a.panese ... Pet.i.tjean was a fair-minded priest, and he tried to consider the matter from the standpoint of the j.a.panese ... I might feel just the way Hond does about this.

Potent Western nations had invaded the countries of Asia. Pet.i.tjean could not deny that. His own homeland of France had actually been more active in occupying parts of Africa. The justification used for the invasions was that they were efforts to bring modern civilization and culture to primitive lands, and the Christian church had been tacitly complicit in their actions.

But if he were an Asian from one of the plundered countries who had had his pride deeply wounded, Pet.i.tjean would surely have sensed hypocrisy in the att.i.tude of the Christian church for granting unspoken approval to all this, turning a blind eye, and conveniently benefiting from all the coercive tactics. Without question, it had been a grave error, even a sin, on the part of the Christian church.

Why are you causing disruptions here in j.a.pan? Why are you stirring things up in Urakami Village? And here you are, not in prison, but sitting back carefree in your room!

Pet.i.tjean could vividly recall Hond's words. The words stung, but he could not ignore the jabs of his conscience.

Pet.i.tjean hung his head, his hands still over his face. In a separate place, Kiku's shoulders shook with sobs....

What tormented Pet.i.tjean the most was the fact that of the sixty-eight men and women held in prison, every one except Sen'emon had apostatized out of fear of the gruesome tortures. Hond Shuntar had casually and triumphantly reported to him that the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans had been broken. That the believers had abandoned G.o.d.

Pet.i.tjean had to admit his bitter defeat. The elation he had felt when he found the Kiris.h.i.tans hidden in j.a.pan had changed into this unspeakable pain of remorse and regret.

O Lord, Thy ways are ... are unfathomable to me. Thou hast granted me the flowers of delight ... only to suddenly destroy them.

He heard Okane call his name. "Lord Pet.i.tjean, when will Lord Laucaigne be returning?"

"This evening."

Laucaigne had once again gone to visit the homes in Nakano, Motohara, and Ieno, where he offered comfort to the women whose husbands or sons had been taken off to prison. But those same husbands and sons, having abandoned their faith, would eventually be set free.

He decided to kneel in prayer in the chapel, which was his heart's refuge. He wanted to be alone in the chapel to pray and ponder to know whether the things he had done were approved or misguided.

But as he was about to step into the sanctuary through a door behind the altar, Pet.i.tjean saw Kiku standing there alone. She was looking up at the statue of the Blessed Mother and weeping.

"Kiku. What ... what are you doing there?"

Startled that Pet.i.tjean had called to her, Kiku began to flee.

"Kiku, I have something to tell you."

She paused.

"Seikichi is ... I've heard that Seikichi will soon be released from prison."

Kiku stood with her mouth open, almost as though she couldn't understand what the words meant. Then color returned to her tear-stained face and with a look exuding joy, she responded, "Seikichi is going to be released ...?"

"Yes."

"The magistrate has pardoned Seikichi?"

"That's right ..." Pet.i.tjean nodded, tasting an emotion as bitter as his own gastric juices.

"Then he'll be going back to Urakami?"

"Yes ..."

"Oh, Santa Maria!" Without warning, Kiku turned her face toward the statue of the Blessed Mother and, to Pet.i.tjean's astonishment, cried out, "You're wonderful! I'm sorry for hating you. Forgive me? Thanks to you, Seikichi has cut his ties with the evil Kiris.h.i.tan faith!"

It looked as though it would rain that day.

Beneath the leaden sky, a procession of vagrants trudged its way up Nishizaka Hill toward the Togitsu Highway. Every man and woman in the column looked haggard, but from their expressions it appeared not that they were physically exhausted but had lost all will to live.

They were the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans, who had been released by the magistrate after many months in prison. But it was no longer correct to call them Kiris.h.i.tans. They had abandoned their faith. They had apostatized.

When they pa.s.sed by the Shtokuji, the chief priest was waiting for them. His apprentices had set out earthenware teapots and teacups for them, intending to treat them to a drink of tea, but not one of them accepted the offering.

"Well done, well done! After thinking it over, you've had a change of heart!" The chief priest tried to encourage and cheer each one individually, almost to the point of patting them on their backs, but the apostates kept their faces averted and walked past the priest without uttering a word.

They came to Magome. Mitsu's brother Ichijir was in the field with his father and other relatives, just beginning to harvest the rice. Noticing the ghostly looking band, he shouted, "Hey, it's the Kuros of Nakano and Motohara!" Then he muttered, "Just look at them. Looks like they were treated pretty badly!" Inwardly he was ashamed of buckling under to the officials at the magistrate's office and the priest of the Shtokuji and spying on Nakano village. He didn't like the Kuros, but he also disliked having to act like a spy.

Beneath the dark gray sky, the column pa.s.sed through Magome and finally set foot in their beloved village of Nakano. The groves of trees, the terraced rice paddies, the colors of the earth, and the smell of the soil-all these they had thought about and dreamed about while in prison. When one person at the front of the column came to a stop, they all stopped walking. Some of the women began to weep.

They were looking at their own houses, each as tiny as an animal shed. The doors were tightly shut, and all was still. There was not a sign of a single person on the road. Not a single child was at play.

Where is everybody? Seikichi thought, and without even a parting word to the others, he set off for his own house. The rest followed suit and dispersed in various directions. It was painful to look into each other's faces. In those faces they could see their own likeness: a traitor.

The door of Seikichi's house was also tightly shut.

"Mother, it's me!" he called softly, knocking on the door. The house was stubbornly unresponsive.

"Mother, it's Seikichi!" he called in a louder voice. Finally he could hear the door being unlocked from within, and an elderly woman poked her face out.

"Mother!"

"Come in quickly!" his mother said rapidly. "Once they heard that you'd apostatized, the villagers decided not to have anything to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me? They told you that?"

"That's ... that's what they all decided. The padres were opposed to it, but ..."

Seikichi's father was stretched out on a woven mat they used in place of a tatami. His legs had been bothering him ever since he took a fall while working in the fields. Sitting in the dark, dank room blackened by smoke from the hearth, Seikichi and his parents conversed in whispers, as though fearing they might be heard outside.

"They said you had all betrayed Deus. That you'd turned your backs on the village. Turned your backs on what our village and our families have believed in for generations.... That's what everybody said. They decided that even if you returned to the village, they wouldn't a.s.sociate with you for fear of angering G.o.d."

"That's a d.a.m.ned fine thing for them to say! People who know absolutely nothing about the horrible pain we suffered, strutting around like they're the only ones with real faith ...!" Seikichi spat the words out angrily, but his heart was bursting with the feeling that he was in fact a cowardly traitor, an apostate.

"Won't you go to the village head and tell him you want to return to the faith?" From his sickbed, Seikichi's father asked between coughing fits. "Returning to the faith" meant, of course, for one who has separated himself from the Kiris.h.i.tan faith to come back to the church.

"If you don't," his mother sighed, "I doubt the people of the village will ever forgive you."

"Are you telling me to return to the faith so that I can be tortured again? Mother, look at these scars." Seikichi stripped his kimono down to his waist and showed them the deep red scars on his back that witnessed the torture he had undergone. "People only say what suits their own convenience."

A misty rain began to fall outside. Both his father and mother hung their heads and said nothing further. Gazing at their sorry postures, Seikichi's chest tightened with agonizing emotion. He got to his feet and brusquely left the house. He had decided to show his wounded body to someone in the village and, together with some of the others who had just been released from jail, to protest this ostracism.

When he got outside, he saw through the misty rain that two men had emerged from their houses and were walking toward him. Both men, Seishir and Mataichi, had been tortured along with him.