“And then Tadateru has no clear idea where to go! The river labeled as the American River is this one.” Her father pointed to the North Fork of the American. “But the encyclopedia said that Sutter’s mill, where the gold was found, was at Coloma.” His finger moved down two rivers, to the South Fork of the American. “Which is the unnamed river over here.
“And if that isn’t bad enough, the economic map in that same encyclopedia says that the nearest gold and silver is up here.” Masamune pointed to the California-Nevada border, near Reno. “In the high mountains.”
“Neither Tadateru nor any of his companions have any knowledge of the rivers, or of the savages that live on their banks. And none of you has experience in looking for gold, so it may be many months, or even years, before he finds what he is looking for.”
“My husband was given miners from Sado to help him.” Sado was the fabulous Japanese gold and silver mine that had been discovered in 1601.
“My advisers tell me that the gold of Sado is in hard rock, in quartz veins, while the Sutter’s Mill gold is probably kawakin.” Placer gold, the gold found in rivers and streams. “The encyclopedia says that it was found in a river, while building a sawmill. And those miners from Sado were extracting ore from a known vein, not looking for gold in the wilderness.”
“It doesn’t matter. I am his wife and it is my duty to follow him,” said Iroha.
“He did not take you with him to war, when he marched to Osaka, and neither should he take you with him on this chancy voyage of exploration.”
“If it is chancy,” Iroha said, “then that is all the more reason for me to come with him, as it may be my last chance on earth to see him.”
Masamune’s lips tightened. “If he truly cared for your well-being he would order you to remain with me.”
“It is because he cares for me so much that he permits me to come. And he knows that I do not care to live if he is dead.”
Masamune studied her expression. His own became stern. He was prepared to cause her a little pain now, if it would save her great hardship later. “You are not his wife. You were divorced by orders of the shogun.”
Iroha fought back tears, and Masamune in turn fought to remain impassive. She retorted, “The shogun had no power to divorce us. We were secretly baptized, and as secretly given the sacrament of matrimony according to the Holy Catholic Church.”
Masamune had long suspected this. Why else would she not have committed suicide? But in the Japan of Hidetada and Iemitsu, he had not dared to ask her, even in private. Walls have ears, and stones tell tales, his grandmother had told him.
“The shogun could break the bond formed by the public ceremony, the Buddhist one,” Iroha admitted. “But not the Christian one. We were not, we are not, divorced in the eyes of God, or in our hearts.
“Please, Father. When you gave him my hand in marriage, it became my duty under Japanese law to follow him, even if it meant disobeying you. But while I do not need your permission to go, I would like your blessing.”
“A blessing from a pagan?”
Iroha smiled faintly.
Masamune smiled briefly in turn. “I do not know whether you are in fact his wife, but you are most certainly my daughter. Stubbornness is what our family is known for. Yes, you have my blessing.”
“Thank you, Father. And I have a long day ahead of me, so please have me returned to my ship. And to my husband.”
* * *
Despite her brave words, Iroha was worried. She and Tadateru had lived apart for longer than they had lived together. At their reunion , Tadateru had been ebullient. But in the days that followed, as they made their preparations for departure, and then in the long sea voyage, she had caught unsettling glimpses of changes in him. The moments of happiness were fewer and shorter; those of anger or despair were more common and longer, than in the days before the siege of Osaka. Clearly, his long exile had darkened his soul. He seemed more, more—she searched for the word. Brittle.
Had it been up to her, they would just have declared themselves to be Christian, and accepted exile to New Nippon. Made a new life there, one free of the demands of rank.
But Tadateru had refused. For him, he said, it would just be another kind of exile. It would not erase the stain on his honor. Only his discovery of the gold fields, and his appointment as, oh, “Daimyo of Sacramento-han,” would do that.
Iroha had accepted his decision, of course. Her tutors had drummed into her, “be loyal to your husband, be brave in defense of his honor.”
But she worried that his decision might have repercussions, not just for her and Tadateru, but for her family. Her father had told her earlier in the voyage, “Iemitsu could have ordered me to go to San Francisco Bay. Or sent a faithful Tokugawa retainer. Why send Tadateru?” The likeliest explanation, in his opinion, was founded on Tadateru having one foot in the Tokugawa family, by blood, and the other amidst the Date, by marriage—the latter association being renewed now that Iroha had returned to him. Her father had concluded, “Clearly, if Tadateru succeeded, it would be proclaimed a Tokugawa success. And if he failed, it would be portrayed as a Date failure.”