Shogun_ A Novel of Japan Part 3

Vinck looked back at Blackthorne. "What about Portuguese, Pilot? Did you see any around?"

"No. There were no signs of them in the village."

"They'll swarm here soon as they know about us." Maetsukker said it for all of them and the boy Croocq let out a moan.

"Yes, and if there's one priest, there's got to be others." Ginsel licked dry lips. "And then their G.o.d-cursed conquistadores are never far away."

"That's right," Vinck added uneasily. "They're like lice."

"Christ Jesus! Papists!" someone muttered. "And conquistadores!"

"But we're in the j.a.pans, Pilot?" van Nekk asked. "He told you that?"

"Yes. Why?"

Van Nekk moved closer and dropped his voice. "If priests are here, and some of the natives are Catholic, perhaps the other part's true-about the riches, the gold and silver and precious stones." A hush fell on them. "Did you see any, Pilot? Any gold? Any gems on the natives, or gold?"

"No. None." Blackthorne thought a moment. "I don't remember seeing any. No necklaces or beads or bracelets. Listen, there's something else to tell you. I went aboard Erasmus Erasmus but she's sealed up." He related what had happened and their anxiety increased. but she's sealed up." He related what had happened and their anxiety increased.

"Jesus, if we can't go back aboard and there are priests ash.o.r.e and Papists.... We've got to get away from here." Maetsukker's voice began to tremble. "Pilot, what are we going to do? They'll burn us! Conquistadores-those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds'll shove their swords ..."

"We're in G.o.d's hands," Jan Roper called out confidently. "He will protect us from the anti-Christ. That's His promise. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Blackthorne said, "The way the samurai Omi-san snarled at the priest-I'm sure he hated him. That's good, eh? What I'd like to know is why the priest wasn't wearing their usual robes. Why the orange one? I've never seen that before."

"Yes, that's curious," van Nekk said.

Blackthorne looked up at him. "Maybe their hold here isn't strong. That could help us greatly."

"What should we do, Pilot?" Ginsel asked.

"Be patient and wait till their chief, this daimyo daimyo, comes. He'll let us go. Why shouldn't he? We've done them no harm. We've goods to trade. We're not pirates, we've nothing to fear."

"Very true, and don't forget the Pilot said the savages aren't all Papists," van Nekk said, more to encourage himself than the others. "Yes. It's good the samurai hated the priest. And it's only the samurai who are armed. That's not so bad, eh? Just watch out for the samurai and get our weapons back-that's the idea. We'll be aboard before you know it."

"What happens if this daimyo's daimyo's Papist?" Jan Roper asked. No one answered him. Then Ginsel said, "Pilot, the man with the sword? He cut the other wog into pieces, after chopping his head off?" "Yes." Papist?" Jan Roper asked. No one answered him. Then Ginsel said, "Pilot, the man with the sword? He cut the other wog into pieces, after chopping his head off?" "Yes."

"Christ! They're barbarians! Lunatics!" Ginsel was tall, a good-looking youth with short arms and very bowed legs. The scurvy had taken all his teeth. "After he chopped his head off, the others just walked away? Without saying anything?"

"Yes."

"Christ Jesus, an unarmed man, murdered, just like that? Why'd he do it? Why'd he kill him?"

"I don't know, Ginsel. But you've never seen such speed. One moment the sword was sheathed, the next the man's head was rolling."

"G.o.d protect us!"

"Dear Lord Jesus," van Nekk murmured. "If we can't get back to the s.h.i.+p.... G.o.d d.a.m.n that storm, I feel so helpless without my spectacles!"

"How many samurai were aboard, Pilot?" Ginsel asked.

"Twenty-two were on deck. But there were more ash.o.r.e."

"The wrath of G.o.d will be upon the heathen and on sinners and they'll burn in h.e.l.l for all eternity."

"I'd like to be sure of that, Jan Roper," Blackthorne said, an edge to his voice, as he felt the fear of G.o.d's vengeance sweep through the room. He was very tired and wanted to sleep.

"You can be sure, Pilot, oh yes, I am. I pray that your eyes are opened to G.o.d's truth. That you come to realize we're here only because of you-what's left of us."

"What?" Blackthorne said dangerously.

"Why did you really persuade the Captain-General to try for the j.a.pans? It wasn't in our orders. We were to pillage the New World, to carry the war into the enemy's belly, then go home."

"There were Spanish s.h.i.+ps south and north of us and nowhere else to run. Has your memory gone along with your wits? We had to sail west-it was our only chance."

"I never saw enemy s.h.i.+ps, Pilot. None of us did."

"Come now, Jan," van Nekk said wearily. "The Pilot did what he thought best. Of course the Spaniards were there."

"Aye, that's the truth, and we was a thousand leagues from friends and in enemy waters, by G.o.d!" Vinck spat. "That's the G.o.d's truth-and the G.o.d's truth was we put it to a vote. We all said yes."

"I didn't."

Sonk said, "No one asked me."

"Oh, Christ Jesus!"

"Calm down, Johann," van Nekk said, trying to ease the tension. "We're the first ones to reach the j.a.pans. Remember all the stories, eh? We're rich if we keep our wits. We have trade goods and there's gold here-there must be. Where else could we sell our cargo? Not there in the New World, hunted and harried! They were hunting us and the Spaniards knew we were off Santa Maria. We had to quit Chile and there was no escape back through the Strait-of course they'd be lying in wait for us, of course they would! No, here was our only chance and a good idea. Our cargo exchanged for spices and gold and silver, eh? Think of the profit-a thousandfold, that's usual. We're in the Spice Islands. You know the riches of the j.a.pans and Cathay, you've heard about them forever. We all have. Why else did we all sign on? We'll be rich, you'll see!"

"We're dead men, like all the others. We're in the land of Satan."

Vinck said angrily, "Shut your mouth, Roper! The Pilot did right. Not his fault the others died-not his fault. Men always die on these voyages."

Jan Roper's eyes were flecked, the pupils tiny. "Yes, G.o.d rest their souls. My brother was one."

Blackthorne looked into the fanatic eyes, hating Jan Roper. Inside he was asking himself if he had really sailed west to elude the enemy s.h.i.+ps. Or was it because he was the first English pilot through the Strait, first in position, ready and able to stab west and therefore first with the chance of circ.u.mnavigating?

Jan Roper hissed, "Didn't the others die through your ambition, Pilot? G.o.d will punish you!"

"Now hold your tongue." Blackthorne's words were soft and final.

Jan Roper stared back with the same frozen hatchet face, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Good." Blackthorne sat tiredly on the floor and rested against one of the uprights.

"What should we do, Pilot?"

"Wait and get fit. Their chief is coming soon-then we'll get everything settled."

Vinck was looking out into the garden at the samurai who sat motionless on his heels beside the gateway. "Look at that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Been there for hours, never moves, never says anything, doesn't even pick his nose."

"He's been no trouble though, Johann. None at all," van Nekk said.

"Yes, but all we've been doing is sleeping and fornicating and eating the swill."

"Pilot, he's only one man. We're ten," Ginsel said quietly.

"I've thought of that. But we're not fit enough yet. It'll take a week for the scurvy to go," Blackthorne replied, disquieted. "There are too many of them aboard s.h.i.+p. I wouldn't like to take on even one without a spear or gun. Are you guarded at night?"

"Yes. They change guard three or four times. Has anyone seen a sentry asleep?" van Nekk asked.

They shook their heads.

"We could be aboard tonight," Jan Roper said. "With the help of G.o.d we'll overpower the heathen and take the s.h.i.+p."

"Clear the s.h.i.+t out of your ears! The pilot's just got through telling you! Don't you listen?" Vinck spat disgustedly.

"That's right," Pieterzoon, a gunner, agreed. "Stop hacking at old Vinck!"

Jan Roper's eyes narrowed even more. "Look to your soul, Johann Vinck. And yours, Hans Pieterzoon. The Day of Judgment approaches." He walked away and sat on the veranda.

Van Nekk broke the silence. "Everything is going to be all right. You'll see."

"Roper's right. It's greed that put us here," the boy Croocq said, his voice quavering. "It's G.o.d's punishment that-"

"Stop it!"

The boy jerked. "Yes, Pilot. Sorry, but-well ..." Maximilian Croocq was the youngest of them, just sixteen, and he had signed on for the voyage because his father had been captain of one of the s.h.i.+ps and they were going to make their fortune. But he had seen his father die badly when they had sacked the Spanish town of Santa Magdellana in the Argentine. The plunder had been good and he had seen what rape was and he had tried it, hating himself, glutted by the blood smell and the killing. Later he had seen more of his friends die and the five s.h.i.+ps became one and now he felt he was the oldest among them. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"How long have we been ash.o.r.e, Baccus?" Blackthorne asked.

"This is the third day." Van Nekk moved close again, squatting on his haunches. "Don't remember the arrival too clearly, but when I woke up the savages were all over the s.h.i.+p. Very polite and kind though. Gave us food and hot water. They took the dead away and put the anchors out. Don't remember much but I think they towed us to a safe mooring. You were delirious when they carried you ash.o.r.e. We wanted to keep you with us but they wouldn't let us. One of them spoke a few words of Portuguese. He seemed to be the headman, he had gray hair. He didn't understand 'Pilot-Major' but knew 'Captain.' It was quite clear he wanted our 'Captain' to have different quarters from us, but he said we shouldn't worry because you'd be well looked after. Us too. Then he guided us here, they carried us mostly, and said we were to stay inside until his his captain came. We didn't want to let them take you but there was nothing we could do. Will you ask the headman about wine or brandy, Pilot?" Van Nekk licked his lips thirstily, then added, "Now that I think of it, he mentioned captain came. We didn't want to let them take you but there was nothing we could do. Will you ask the headman about wine or brandy, Pilot?" Van Nekk licked his lips thirstily, then added, "Now that I think of it, he mentioned 'daimyo' 'daimyo' too. What's going to happen when the too. What's going to happen when the daimyo daimyo arrives?" arrives?"

"Has anyone got a knife or a pistol?"

"No," van Nekk said, scratching absently at the lice in his hair. "They took all our clothes away to clean them and kept the weapons. I didn't think anything about it at the time. They took my keys too, as well as my pistol. I had all my keys on a ring. The strong room, the strongbox, and the magazine."

"Everything's locked tight aboard. No need to worry about that."

"I don't like not having my keys. Makes me very nervous. d.a.m.n my eyes, I could use a brandy right now. Even a flagon of ale."

"Lord Jesus! The sameree cut him into pieces, did he?" Sonk said to no one in particular.

"For the love of G.o.d, shut your mouth. It's 'samurai.' You're enough to make a man s.h.i.+t himself," Ginsel said.

"I hope that b.a.s.t.a.r.d priest doesn't come here," Vinck said.

"We're safe in the good Lord's hands." Van Nekk was still trying to sound confident. "When the daimyo daimyo comes we'll be released. We'll get our s.h.i.+p back and our guns. You'll see. We'll sell all our goods and we'll get back to Holland rich and safe having gone round the world-the first Dutchmen ever. The Catholics'll go to h.e.l.l and that's the end of it." comes we'll be released. We'll get our s.h.i.+p back and our guns. You'll see. We'll sell all our goods and we'll get back to Holland rich and safe having gone round the world-the first Dutchmen ever. The Catholics'll go to h.e.l.l and that's the end of it."

"No, it isn't," Vinck said. "Papists make my skin crawl. I can't help it. That and the thought of the conquistadores. You think they'll be here in strength, Pilot?"

"I don't know. I'd think yes! I wish we had all our squadron here."

"Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," Vinck said. "At least we're alive."

Maetsukker said, "Maybe they're back home. Maybe they turned back at the Magellan when the storms scattered us."

"I hope you're right," Blackthorne said. "But I think they're lost with all hands."

Ginsel shuddered. "At least we're alive."

"With Papists here, and these heathens with their stinking tempers, I wouldn't give an old wh.o.r.e's crack for our lives."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n the day I left Holland," Pieterzoon said. "G.o.dd.a.m.n all grog! If I hadn't been drunker than a fiddler's b.i.t.c.h I'd still be heads down in Amsterdam with my old woman."

"d.a.m.n what you like, Pieterzoon. But don't d.a.m.n liquor. It's the stuff of life!"

"I'd say we're in the sewer, up to our chins, and the tide's coming in fast." Vinck rolled his eyes. "Yes, very fast."

"I never thought we'd reach land," Maetsukker said. He looked like a ferret, except he had no teeth. "Never. Least of all the j.a.pans. Lousy stinking Papists! We'll never leave here alive! I wish we had some guns. What a rotten landfall! I didn't mean anything, Pilot," he said quickly as Blackthorne looked at him. "Just bad luck, that's all."

Later servants brought them food again. Always the same: vegetables-cooked and raw-with a little vinegar, fish soup, and the wheat or barley porridge. They all spurned the small pieces of raw fish and asked for meat and liquor. But they were not understood and then, near sunset, Blackthorne left. He had wearied of their fears and hates and obscenities. He told them that he would return after dawn.

The shops were busy on the narrow streets. He found his street and the gate of his house. The stains on the earth had been swept away and the body had vanished. It's almost as though I dreamed the whole thing, he thought. The garden gate opened before he could put a hand on it.

The old gardener, still loinclothed although there was a chill on the wind, beamed and bowed. "Konbanwa "Konbanwa."

"h.e.l.lo," Blackthorne said without thinking. He walked up the steps, stopped, remembering his boots. He took them off and went barefoot onto the veranda and into the room. He crossed it into a corridor but could not find his room.

"Onna!" he called out.

An old woman appeared. "Hai?" "Hai?"

"Where's Onna?"

The old woman frowned and pointed to herself. "Onna!"

"Oh, for the love of G.o.d," Blackthorne said irritably. "Where's my room? Where's Onna?" He slid open another latticed door. Four j.a.panese were seated on the floor around a low table, eating. He recognized one of them as the gray-haired man, the village headman, who had been with the priest. They all bowed. "Oh, sorry," he said, and pulled the door to.

"Onna!" he called out.

The old woman thought a moment, then beckoned. He followed her into another corridor. She slid a door aside. He recognized his room from the crucifix. The quilts were already laid out neatly.

"Thank you," he said, relieved. "Now fetch Onna!"

The old woman padded away. He sat down, his head and body aching, and wished there was a chair, wondering where they were kept. How to get aboard? How to get some guns? There must be a way. Feet padded back and there were three women now, the old woman, a young round-faced girl, and the middle-aged lady.

The old woman pointed at the girl, who seemed a little frightened. "Onna."