Shogun (139 page)

He looked back at the wharf. Yabu and Naga were deep in conversation. Uraga was explaining to his vassals what was going on. Then the barriers were opening again and Baccus van Nekk and the rest of the crew, all obviously apprehensive, stumbled into the clearing, surrounded by caustic guards.

Blackthorne went to the gunwale and called out, “Hey! Come aboard!”

When his men saw him they seemed less fearful, and began to hurry, but their guards cursed them and they stopped in their tracks.

“Uraga-san!” Blackthorne shouted. “Tell them to let my men aboard.
At once.”
Uraga obeyed with alacrity. The samurai listened and bowed toward the ship and released the crew.

Vinck was first aboard, Baccus groping his way last. The men were still frightened, but none came up onto the quarterdeck which was Blackthorne’s domain alone.

“Great Jesus, Pilot,” Baccus panted, above the hubbub of questions. “What’s going on?”

“What’s amiss, Pilot?” Vinck echoed with the others. “Christ, one moment we was asleep, then all hell broke loose, the door burst open an’ the monkeys were marching us here….”

Blackthorne held up his hand. “Listen!” When there was silence
he began quietly, “We’re taking
Erasmus
to a safe harbor across the—”

“We’ve not men enough, Pilot,” Vinck broke in anxiously. “We’ll nev—”

“Listen, Johann! We’re going to be towed. The other ship’ll be here any moment. Ginsel, go for’ard—you’ll swing the lead. Vinck, take the helm, Jan Roper and Baccus stand by the forewinch, Salamon and Croocq aft. Sonk—go below and check our stores. Break out some grog if you can find any. Lay to!”

“Wait a minute, Pilot!” Jan Roper said. “What’s all the hurry? Where’re we going and why?”

Blackthorne felt a surge of indignation at being questioned, but he reminded himself that they were entitled to know, they were not vassals and not
eta
but his crew, his shipmates, and, in some respects, almost partners. “This is the beginning of the storm season.
Tai-funs
they call them—Great Storms. This berth isn’t safe. Across the harbor, a few leagues south, is their best and safest anchorage. It’s near a village called Yokohama.
Erasmus
will be safe there and can ride out any storm. Now lay to!”

No one moved.

Van Nekk said, “Only a few leagues, Pilot?”

“Yes.”

“What then? And, well, what’s the hurry?”

“Lord Toranaga agreed to let me do it now,” Blackthorne answered, telling half the truth. “The sooner the better, I thought. He might change his mind again,
neh?
At Yokohama …” He looked away as Yabu came stomping aboard with his six guards. The men fled out of his way.

“Jesus,” Vinck choked out. “It’s him! It’s the bastard who gave Pieterzoon his!”

Yabu came up near to the quarterdeck, smiling broadly, oblivious of the terror that infected the crew as they recognized him. He pointed out to sea. “Anjin-san, look! There! Everything’s perfect,
neh?”

A galley like some monstrous sea caterpillar was sweeping silently toward them from the western darkness.

“Good, Yabu-sama! You want stand here?”

“Later, Anjin-san.” Yabu walked off to the head of the gangway.

Blackthorne turned back to his men. “Lay for’ard. On the double—and watch your tongues. Speak only gutter Dutch—there’s one aboard
who understands Portuguese! I’ll talk to you when we’re under way! Move!”

The men scattered, glad to get away from Yabu’s presence. Uraga and twenty of Blackthorne’s samurai loped aboard. The others were forming up on the jetty to board the galley.

Uraga said, “These your personal guards, if it pleases you, senhor.”

“My name’s Anjin-san, not senhor,” Blackthorne said.

“Please excuse me, Anjin-san.” Uraga began to come up the steps.

“Stop! Stay below! No one ever comes onto the quarterdeck without my permission! Tell them.”

“Yes, Anjin-san. Please excuse me.”

Blackthorne went to the side to watch the galley docking, just to the west of them. “Ginsel! Go ashore and watch ’em take our hawsers! See they’re secured properly. Look lively now!”

Then, his ship in control, Blackthorne scrutinized the twenty men. “Why are they all chosen from the bound group, Uraga-san?”

“They’re a clan, sen—Anjin-san. Like brothers, Sire. They beg for the honors of defending you.”

“
Anatawa—anatawa—anatawa
—” Blackthorne pointed out ten men at random and ordered them ashore, to be replaced from his other vassals, also to be selected by Uraga at random. And he told Uraga to make it clear
all
his vassals were to be like brothers or they could commit seppuku now.

“
Wakarimasu?”

“
Hai
, Anjin-san.
Gomen nasai.”

Soon the bow hawsers were secured aboard the other craft. Blackthorne inspected everything, checked the wind again using all his sea sense, knowing that even within the benign waters of the vast Yedo harbor, their journey could be dangerous if a sudden squall began.

“Cast off!” he shouted. “
Ima
, Captain-san!”

The other captain waved and let his galley ease away from the jetty. Naga was aboard the craft, which was packed with samurai and the rest of Blackthorne’s vassals. Yabu stood beside Blackthorne on the quarterdeck of
Erasmus
. She heeled slightly and a tremor went through her as she was taken by the weight of a current. Blackthorne and all the crew were filled with jubilation, their excitement at being once more at sea overriding their anxieties. Ginsel was leaning over the side of the tiny, roped starboard platform, swinging the lead, calling out the fathoms. The jetty began to fall away.

“Ahoy ahead,
Yukkuri sei!”
Slow down!

“
Hai
, Anjin-san,” came the answering shout. Together the two ships felt their way out into the harbor stream, riding lights at their mastheads.

“Good, Anjin-san,” Yabu said. “Very good!”

Yabu waited until they were well out to sea, then he took Blackthorne aside. “Anjin-san,” he said warily. “You saved my life yesterday. Understand? Calling off those
ronin
. Remember?”

“Yes. Only my duty.”

“No, not duty. At Anjiro, you remember that other man, the seaman … remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“
Shigata ga nai, neh? Karma, neh?
That was before samurai or hatamoto….” Yabu’s eyes were glittering in the light of the sea lantern and he touched Blackthorne’s sword and spoke softly and clearly. “… Before Oil Seller,
neh?
As samurai to samurai ask forget all before. Start new. Tonight. Please? Understand?”

“Yes, understand.”

“You need me, Anjin-san. Without me, no barbarian
wako
. You can’t get them alone. Not from Nagasaki. Never. I can get them—help you get them. Now we fight same side. Toranaga’s side. Same side. Without me, no
wako
, understand?”

Blackthorne watched the galley ahead for a moment and checked the deck and his seamen. Then he looked down on Yabu. “Yes. Understand.”

“You understand ‘hate’—the word ‘hate’?”

“Yes.”

“Hate comes from fear. I do not fear you. You need not fear me. Never again. I want what you want: your new ships here, you here, captain of new ships. I can help you very much. First the Black Ship … ah yes, Anjin-san,” he said, seeing the joy flood across Blackthorne’s face, “I will persuade Lord Toranaga. You know I’m a fighter,
neh?
I’ll lead the charge. I’ll take the Black Ship for you on land. Together you and I are stronger than one.
Neh?”

“Yes. Possible get more men? More than two hundred my?”

“If you need two thousand men … five thousand! Don’t worry, you lead ship—I’ll lead the fight. Agree?”

“Yes. Fair trade. Thank you. I agree.”

“Good, very good, Anjin-san,” Yabu said contentedly. He knew this mutual partnership would benefit them both however much the barbarian hated him. Again Yuriko’s logic had been flawless.

Earlier that evening he had seen Toranaga and asked permission to go at once to Osaka to prepare the way for him. “Please excuse me but I thought the matter urgent enough. After all, Sire,” Yabu had said deferentially as he and his wife had planned, “you should have someone of rank there to make sure that all your arrangements are perfect. Ishido’s a peasant and doesn’t understand ceremony,
neh?
The arrangement must be perfect or you should not go,
neh?
It could take weeks,
neh?”

He had been delighted with the ease with which Toranaga had been persuaded. “Then there’s also the barbarian ship, Sire. Better to put it at Yokohama at once in case of
tai-fun
. I’ll supervise that myself, with your permission, before I go. The Musket Regiment can be its guards, give them something to do. Then I’ll go on directly to Osaka with the galley. By sea’d be better and quicker,
neh?”

“Very well, yes, if you think that wise, Yabu-san, do it. But take Naga-san with you. Leave him in charge at Yokohama.”

“Yes, Sire.” Then Yabu had told Toranaga about Tsukku-san’s anger; how, if Lord Toranaga wanted the Anjin-san to live long enough to obtain men at Nagasaki in case Toranaga wanted the ship to put to sea, then perhaps this should be done at once without hesitation. “The priest was very angry—I think angry enough to set his converts against the Anjin-san!”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yes, Sire. Perhaps I should put the Anjin-san under my protection for the moment.” Then, as though it were a sudden thought, Yabu added, “The simplest thing would be to take the Anjin-san with me. I can start arrangements at Osaka—continue to Nagasaki, get the new barbarians, then complete the arrangements on my return.”

“Do whatever you think fit,” Toranaga had said. “I’ll leave it to you to decide, my friend. What does it matter,
neh?
What does anything matter?”

Yabu was happy that, at long last, he could act. Only Naga’s presence had not been planned, but that did not matter, and truly, it would be wise to have him at Yokohama.

Yabu was watching the Anjin-san—the tall, arrogant stance, feet slightly apart, swaying so easily with the pitch and toss of the waves, seemingly part of the ship, so huge and strong and different. So different from when ashore. Consciously Yabu began to take up a similar stance, aping him carefully.

‘I want more than the Kwanto, Yuriko-san,’ he had whispered to his wife just before he had left their house. ‘Just one more thing. I want command of the sea. I want to be Lord High Admiral. We’ll put the whole revenue of the Kwanto behind Omi’s plan to
escort
the barbarian to his home, to buy more ships and bring them back again. Omi will go with him,
neh?’

‘Yes,’ she had said, as happily. ‘We can trust him.’

The wharf at Yedo was deserted now. The last of the samurai guards were disappearing into the byways heading back toward the castle. Father Alvito came out of the shadows, Brother Michael beside him. Alvito looked seaward. “May God curse her and all who sail in her.”

“Except one, Father. One of our people sails with the ship. And Naga-san. Naga-san’s sworn to become Christian in the first month of next year.”

“If there ever is a next year for him,” Alvito said, filled with gloom. “I don’t know about Naga, perhaps he means it, perhaps not. That ship’s going to destroy us and there’s nothing we can do.”

“God will help us.”

“Yes, but meanwhile we’re Soldiers of God and we have to help Him. The Father-Visitor must be warned at once, and the Captain-General. Have you found a carrier pigeon for Osaka yet?”

“No, Father, not for any amount of money. Nor even one for Nagasaki. Months ago Toranaga-sama ordered them
all
into his keeping.”

Alvito’s gloom deepened. “There must be someone with one! Pay anything that’s necessary. The heretic will wound us terribly, Michael.”

“Perhaps not, Father.”

“Why are they moving the ship? Of course for safety, but more to put it out of our reach. Why has Toranaga given the heretic two hundred
wako
and his bullion back? Of course to use as a strike force, and the specie’s to buy more pirates—gunners and seamen. Why give Blackthorne freedom? To harry us through the Black Ship. God help us, Toranaga’s forsaken us too!”

“We’ve forsaken him, Father.”

“There’s nothing we can do to help him! We’ve tried everything with the
daimyos
. We’re helpless.”

“Perhaps if we prayed harder, perhaps God would show us a way.”

“I pray and pray, but … perhaps God has forsaken us, Michael, rightly. Perhaps we’re not worthy of His mercy. I know I’m not.”

“Perhaps the Anjin-san won’t find gunners or seamen. Perhaps he’ll never arrive at Nagasaki.”

“His silver will buy him all the men he needs. Even Catholics—even Portuguese. Men foolishly think more about this world than the next. They won’t open their eyes. They sell their souls all too easily. Yes. I pray Blackthorne never arrives there.
Or his emissaries
. Don’t forget, there’s no need at all for him to go there. The men could be bought and brought to him. Come along, let’s go home now.” Dispiritedly, Alvito led the way toward the Jesuit Mission which was a mile or so westward, near the docks, behind one of the large warehouses that normally housed the season’s silks and rice and formed part of the market complex the Jesuits governed on behalf of buyer and seller.

They walked a while along the shore, then Alvito stopped and looked seaward again. Dawn was breaking. He could see nothing of the ships. “What chance of our message being delivered?” Yesterday, Michael had discovered that one of Blackthorne’s new vassals was a Christian. When the news had flared through the underground network of Yedo last night that something was going to happen with the Anjin-san and his ship, Alvito had hastily scrawled a ciphered message for dell’Aqua, giving all the latest news, and had begged the man to deliver it secretly if ever he reached Osaka.

“The message will arrive.” Brother Michael added quietly, “Our man knows he sails with the enemy.”

“May God watch him and give him strength and curse Uraga.” Alvito looked across at the younger man. “Why? Why did he become apostate?”