The Amtrack Wars - Earth Thunder Part 49

The shutters protecting the cabin windows against the storm also had to remain closed. Through the angled slits Steve saw the crew of a small oarboat fis.h.i.+ng broken timbers out of the water.

Looking farther afield, he saw there were several other boats doing the same thing. He heard people shouting on deck, then the junk came to a shuddering halt as the propellor slowed and was thrown into reverse, causing the sea to boil thunderously under the stern.

Fran came through from the portside cabin. 'Quick!

Someone's spotted a body in the water!" She ran back so as not to miss anything. Steve, his curiosity aroused, joined her at the window. It was the first time she'd had a smile on her face in three days.

Karlstrom was right. This girl was dangerous to know.

There was more m.u.f.fled shouting from the deck above.

'What's happening?" asked Steve.

'They're calling out to that small boat over there - see?

Telling them where the body is. It's close to the s.h.i.+p. But of course with these things in the way you can't see a b.l.o.o.d.y thing!" She slammed the heel of her hand against the locked shutters to vent her frustration.

The oarboat was now making its way towards the junk.

There was another exchange of shouts. 'It's now almost underneath us,'

said Fran. 'It's got no head. Half of one leg is missing and its arms are tied behind its back. That's kind of weird isn't it? What d'you think happened?"

'No idea,' said Steve. 'This is a big stretch of water.

Maybe it has big fish in it that eat people."

'You mean they tie people up and throw them overboard?"

'Commander, compared to some of the ways the Iron Masters have of killing people that's nothing, believe me."

Although Steve and Fran didn't know it, the junk was now covering the same stretch of water as the loaded longboat.

Its destination was Bei-poro, the small harbour that Cadillac had taken care to avoid. As they drew closer to sh.o.r.e, Fujiwara knocked on the outside cabin door and entered to explain the landing procedure. Two of the servant women followed him in, carrying several neatly folded garments.

When the junk had been secured fore and aft by ropes to the iron stanchions of the jetty, Fujiwara came downstairs to collect his visitors. Steve and Fran now wore the cla.s.sic loose black tunic, sash and trousers normally reserved exclusively for samurai, white, split-toed socks and rope-soled sandals. The camouflage fatigues and boots they had worn up to boarding the junk had been packed away in their luggage, alongside the silver grey and dark blue First Family uniforms they planned to wear when meeting the Shogun.

Fujiwara had also furnished them with lacquered papier rnachmasks moulded to cover their faces from hairline to chin, and from ear to ear. A pair of gloves and a warm hooded cloak with the cowl drawn well forward completed their disguise. At the top of the companionway, they found the same side and roof screens obscuring their view of the main deck. Directly in front of them lay the open door of a two-seat carriage-box.

'What about our baggage?" enquired Steve.

ujiwara bowed. 'That will follow with servants." He made sure they were securely seated then closed the door.

The interior was comfortably padded and furnished with richly coloured fabrics, but there were no windows.

The Iron Masters who used this cla.s.s of carriage-box liked their privacy, but there was adequate ventilation, and the outside world could be glimpsed through the tiny 262 apertures in the pierced wooden screens fitted at shoulder height on either side of each pa.s.senger.

The four Vietnamese serving-women, who had never travelled in anything better than an open ox-cart, could hardly believe their luck when Fujiwara told them they would be travelling in two more closed carriage-boxes with the luggage.

Make the most of it, thought Fujiwara. He had been instructed to have them killed as soon as the long-dogs left Ne-Issan to return home. No one, outside Ieyasu's most trusted group of special agents, was allowed to know that this visit had taken place.

.Fujiwara, now wearing the same traditional black travelling-dress as Fran and Steve, took leave of the s.h.i.+p's captain and officers, and strode down the gangway followed- at a respectful distance - by the servant-women in their baggy brown tunics and trousers that were drawn into a cuff around the neck, wrists and ankles.

His four companions were already astride their horses.

When the servant women had boarded the waiting vehicles, Fujiwara took the reins of his own mount from the groom and swung into the high-backed saddle with the fluid movements that were the mark of a skilled horseman. He waved to the porters waiting on the deck of the junk.

Steve and Fran felt themselves lifted into the air.

The box angled forward as they were carried down the gangplank, obliging Fran to hold onto the wall handles to avoid sliding into Steve's lap. The box levelled out again, then rose, wobbling from side to side as it was manoeuvered onto the two-wheeled cha.s.sis. The retaining pegs were slid into place and hammered tight with a single clout from a wooden mallet, then there were two dull clunks as the fore and aft cross-bars were fitted to the slab-sided carrying poles.

From his previous time in Ne-Issan Steve knew the number of porters depended on the importance of the pa.s.senger - which bore a direct relations.h.i.+p to the amount they could afford to pay. Merchants usually hired six, two at the front and four at the rear. During the journey, each pair would take it in turns to man the front bar.

There was a shouted command - probably from Fujiwara.

The porters got a grip on the chest-high crossbars and pushed. The wheels trundled noisily over the cobblestone jetty, rocking Steve from side to side. The Iron Masters did not use sprung cha.s.sis on their wheeled vehicles; that was why the inside of the carriage-box was padded.

'Yo!" exclaimed Steve. 'We're up and rolling." He removed his face mask. Fran did likewise. 'Are you frightened?"

She had been during the sea-voyage, but it was the wrong word to use that morning about Commander Franklynne Delano Jefferson, now that she was back on solid ground.

'I'm a little apprehensive, aren't you?"

'Not this time. On my last trip there were many occasions when I was scared s.h.i.+tless. But now we're honoured guests- representing the First Family. With the whole weight and authority of the Federation behind us."

'And I've got you to look after me."

'You could do worse, ma'am. You could do worse."

Fran's mouth hardened as her natural arrogance came to the fore, then gradually her face and eyes softened.

Steve's winning smile broadened into a grin.

'Relax. They might not accept what we're going to put on the table, but apart from that, what can happen?" What indeed ....

The perforations in the side-screens allowed them a partial view of the countryside, but they could only see outwards horizontally; the thickness of the wooden panels and the smallness of the holes prevented them from seeing what lay ahead. The first intimation they were approaching the end of their journey was the sudden change in the sound made by the horses' hooves then the carriage wheels, as their mounted escort left the stone and dirt road and drummed across a planked wooden bridge.

There was a noticeable coolness, a feeling of a ma.s.sive stone enclosure. The light outside was briefly eclipsed then returned just as swiftly as the horses clattered and the wheels trundled evenly into a courtyard whose walls were made of dressed stone. They were inside the Palace.

Steve motioned to Fran to replace her face mask and did the same, pulling the cowl of his cloak forward so that his head was deeply shadowed. Outside, people were shouting and responding to orders; wooden-soled sandals clattered to and fro.

Fran listened to the babble of voices then said: 'This is not quite the end of the line. They are taking us to the. Inner Court."

The carriage-box was hoisted off its wheeled cha.s.sis onto eight new sets of shoulders then carried on a twisting course that took them through a series of walled courtyards containing neatly pruned trees, shrubs, and ponds fed by small waterfalls, into a long dark pa.s.sageway and up a flight of stairs, emerging again into the light on a balcony.

Fran and Steve both caught a brief glimpse of a neatly raked stone and pebble garden then a sharp right turn took them back into the shadows.

A moment or two later, they were lowered gently to the floor and the two side poles were withdrawn. They heard several pairs of bare feet shuffle away, followed by the smooth swish of closing wall-screens.

There was a respectful knock on the door followed by Fujiwara's voice, inviting them to step out and remove their masks and hooded cloaks.