Tokyo Bay Page 27

  ‘But he still has not been found!’ Daizo’s eyes blazed angrily. “What else do the foreign barbarians say about their treacherous spy?’

  ‘They try to insist he is not a spy, my lord. They say he came ashore without permission, only because he wishes there to be peace and friendship between Nippon and the foreign barbarians. They say that is why they revealed his actions to us.’

  ‘Those are lies!’ shouted Daizo. ‘That is their treachery! They say such things to mislead us - and to disguise their true intentions

  ‘Perhaps my lord is right said the interpreter faintly. ‘I can only report what has been said to me.’

  ‘Already the foreign barbarians are making slaves of the peoples of China and India,’ fumed Daizo. ‘And they wish to enslave Nippon in the same way. As usual they are employing a clever mixture of threats and deceit. We will only escape their slavery if we fight to the death - now without delay!’

  ‘I follow the orders of others in doing my duties, my lord,’ said the interpreter helplessly. ‘At present I attend upon the Governor of Uraga. Perhaps you forget I have no say in what is to be done.’

  ‘The orders given to you and the governor come from weak and cowardly men obsessed with compromise,’ rasped Daizo, leaning forward and thrusting out his jaw aggressively. ‘The Shogun is near to death, too ill to act decisively in the matter of the barbarian ships. Because of this, our ruling council is in the grip of terrible indecision and uncertainty’

  ‘What will be the outcome?’ asked Haniwara, lifting his head diffidently. ‘How can the issue be resolved?’

  ‘The fearful nobles who favour appeasement have won the day so far,’ said Daizo, spitting out his words contemptuously. ‘They want us to appear to do the bidding of the foreign barbarians, while playing for time. They think the barbarians will negotiate fairly! They think that in time we can learn all the barbarian secrets, and so build up our national strength to match theirs. But if we delay so long it will be too late to save ourselves! And I, Daizo Shitomi, Lord of Haifu, will not allow that delay!’

  ‘What will you do, my lord?’

  ‘I shall capture the foreign spy! I shall bring him in chains to Uraga, and expose their gross treachery for all to see. Then everyone who doubts will know there is only one sure way to rid ourselves of these foreign barbarians - by fighting! To our last drop of blood if necessary!’

  The daimyo sat back on his cushion, looking hard at Haniwara. From his position behind the cushioned dais, his narrow-eyed son a]so regarded the interpreter with an unwavering stare.

  ‘Perhaps you have some other knowledge that could assist us,’ said the younger man in a quieter voice. ‘Something you may have omitted to impart previously because of your understandable anxiety at the circumstances in which you have been brought here today:

  ‘What have you in mind, your lordship?’ asked Haniwara, looking towards the daimyo’s son with a startled expression in his eyes.

  Yakamochi blinked slowly. ‘Think carefully. There must be something. . . Something which could per- haps help ensure the safety and survival of your beloved family.’

  On recognizing the undisguised threat for what it was, a look of desperation came into the interpreter’s eyes, and his demeanour became flustered. ‘Yes, yes . . . perhaps there is something. . . In the last hour another suspected sighting of the barbarian spy has been reported - by a courier who had ridden at top speed from the estate of a noble lord in the region of Fuji-san.’

  ‘From Fuji-san?’ echoed the daimyo angrily. ‘Why have you not mentioned this before?’

  ‘I didn’t wish to risk misleading you with unreliable information,’ stammered the interpreter, looking more uneasy than before. ‘There have been many false alarms. . . and so far there is no certain confirmation of this report.’

  ‘What did the courier from the region of Fuji-san say?’ barked the daimyo. ‘Tell us. And be quick!’

  ‘He said that the foreign barbarian was seen near the sacred mountain - at the foot of the south-eastern ascent route.’ The interpreter paused nervously. ‘He appeared to be disguised in farmer’s clothing, and was accompanied by a Nipponese who bought some extra climbing garments and staves... The courier also said about twenty samurai of the Kago clan were riding in pursuit with their prince...’

  ‘Tanaka!’ Daizo let out an exclamation of anger, and after a moment’s thought he turned to give orders to his son in an urgent undertone.

  ‘Go immediately yourself! Take fifty of our bravest warriors. And send messengers to find our other search group. Order them to join you at the foot of the south-eastern ascent. And also be sure to send back couriers to bring me regular reports!’

  Without hesitation Yakamochi bowed low and ran silently from the audience chamber. On his cushioned dais the daimyo remained motionless in his cross-legged posture, staring again at the uncomfortable interpreter. A whole minute passed in silence, but when at last he spoke his voice had become more thoughtful.

  ‘You have been aboard the black ships three times, Haniwara-san. You must have made some estimate of the total number of barbarian fighting men present on their ships. What is your opinion?’

  The interpreter shifted uneasily on the tatami. ‘I am no expert in martial matters, my lord. . . but their fighting men can only be numbered in hundreds - fewer than one thousand in all:

  Daizo nodded slowly in satisfaction. ‘We already have more than one hundred thousand men-at-arms stationed along the shores of Yedo Bay. And more are arriving all the time. By tomorrow there will be one hundred and fifty thousand... The next day perhaps two hundred thousand. .

  The daimyo paused to listen to the sound of many horses clattering swiftly across the castle’s cobbled courtyard. A shouted command, then another, drifted up to the open window of the audience chamber, confirming that the samurai troop under the command of his son was departing from the castle. As he listened, an expression of satisfaction flitted across his face.

  ‘Soon the barbarian spy will be my captive, Haniwara-san he continued quietly ‘Then those who still doubt will be roused to action. And even though there may be many powerful new weapons on board their black ships, the foreign barbarians will not be able to resist a surprise attack by two hundred thousand men of Nippon!’

  As soon as he had finished speaking, Lord Daizo dismissed his visitor with a peremptory jerk of his head, and the interpreter was soon hunched miserably on the narrow seat of the black-lacquered norimono once more. Fresh bearers, under the urging of the samurai guard, rushed the enclosed conveyance back over the forested hills towards Uraga, at the same breakneck speed as before, never changing their pace and never pausing for rest. As they ran they chanted and sang in a noisy, undisciplined way, as if they were carrying an empty chair, but with each step they took they delivered a newly painful jolt of discourtesy to the kimono-clad interpreter cowering uneasily inside.

  30

  TRAVERSING SLOWLY back and forth across a steep face of red and black ash, Eden and the former Japanese castaway edged slowly upwards towards a rocky shoulder of the volcano. The almost vertical cliff of crumbling slag was too soft to scale directly, and their feet slipped constantly in the loose volcanic ash as they followed their laborious zigzag course. They were digging their staves and heels in deep to prevent themselves sliding back, and the effort this required caused them to grunt with exertion at every step. The thick white vapour of a dense cloud through which they were climbing blotted out the sun’s glare from above and a sharp wind, which had forced them to tighten their hat strings, whipped constantly at their faces.

  Both men were panting for breath and perspiring freely as they reached a winding lava gully filled with volcanic rubble and cinders. Big, s1g-covered stones jutted through the floor of the gully, giving it the appearance of a crumbling staircase, and Eden took the opportunity to scramble up this natural flight of steps to the jutting shoulder of rock. Resting breathlessly on his stave, he turned to watch Sentaro stumble up behind hi
m. The castaway’s straw sandals, he noticed, were badly frayed and worn, like his own, and he could see that the soles of his feet were blistered and bleeding in places; one of Eden’s own feet was also gashed and its sandal was stained with fresh blood.

  ‘Sit down on this rock, Sentaro said Eden firmly, as the Japanese arrived gasping beside him. ‘Your feet need attention.’

  Once the castaway was seated, Eden knelt and removed the mangled wisps of straw from his swollen feet. Uncorking the drinking bottle, he poured a few drops of water onto a cloth and wiped away the blood. Taking a fresh pair of straw sandals from Sentaro’s waist-pouch, he slid them on and fastened them around the castaway’s ankles. Then he tended his own gashed foot, and took out a new pair of sandals for himself

  ‘Thank you, master,’ said Sentaro, still struggling to catch his breath. ‘You show me much kindness I don’t deserve.’

  Eden looked at him for a moment. ‘You’re a brave man, Sentaro - and a loyal friend. I owe you a great debt of gratitude for all the help you’ve given me...’ He looked away and slipped his feet into the fresh straw sandals, tying them quickly. ‘And it’s not necessary for you to call me “master”. Such deference is not needed between friends.’

  Eden stared downward, trying to penetrate the grey-white cloud that swirled about them: small, ragged gaps had begun to appear through which fleeting glimpses of the lower slopes were becoming visible, but the main bulk of the mountain remained shrouded in dense vapour. Immediately below them the land fell away with a dizzying suddenness to disappear into the churning billows of cloud and, looking over what seemed to be a virtual precipice, Eden realized for the first time how high they had climbed. This first disturbing view of the mountain’s massive black bulk, seen from on high, also renewed more intensely the feelings of foreboding that had seized him soon after dawn and he shuddered involuntarily.

  ‘I thank you for the kind warmth of your words, master: said Sentaro quietly, bowing his head once. ‘But I address you like this to show proper respect and admiration for a good man. .

  They stared down into the fog in silence for some moments; then the Japanese jumped to his feet and pointed to a dark patch of mountain which had become visible far below, where the forest finally gave way to the harsh expanses of treeless lava and sand.

  ‘Look, master! Down there!’

  Eden strained his eyes, unable to see anything. ‘What is it, Sentaro? What do you see?’

  The Japanese moved closer to him, pointing through a gap in the scudding clouds. ‘A line of men - look, master! And climbing very fast.’

  Eden looked again, and caught sight of a dozen or more figures, ant-like in their smallness, snaking out of the forest in single file. At their head were three quick-striding figures clad entirely in white, but the remainder wore darker clothing. From time to time the white-robed men stopped to peer up into the racing clouds and, on seeing this, Eden rose and clambered swiftly over the ridge of rocks on which they were resting, calling for Sentaro to follow him. Sprawling face-down in the lee of a lava knoll which made them invisible from below, they studied the line of moving figures more closely.

  ‘The men in white must be goriki, master,’ said Sentaro in a hushed voice. ‘They are men of the mountains who act as guides for climbers. They know every track and path...’

  ‘And the other men are samurai: murmured Eden grimly, after pulling out his miniature field-glasses from his pouch and focusing them. ‘I can see they are wearing cloaks and helmets - and twin swords.’

  ‘Somehow they’ve followed us,’ said Sentaro in a surprised voice, watching the line of figures scurrying swiftly upwards. ‘I think they know we are here. They’re coming after us!’

  Eden nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the moving column of climbers, ‘I’m sure you’re right. But this is a very big mountain. It will have many hiding places. We have several hours’ start and today there’s much cloud,’

  ‘What do you plan to do, master?’ asked the Japanese with a puzzled frown. ‘How can we possibly escape them?’

  Eden turned and peered along the face of the mountain, which had previously been hidden from their view. He could see a narrow ledge, wide enough to walk on, that wound away over another shoulder of rock, and he turned back to Sentaro with a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘There must be many different routes up Fuji-san, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, master, there are at least five or six. They lead up from different directions, because pilgrims come to Fuji-san from all parts of Nippon.’

  ‘Good.’ Eden nodded quickly and rose in a crouch, keeping his head below the level of rocks. With one hand he gestured towards the narrow ledge. ‘We’ll turn north now - and stay at this level until we can find another route leading up from the other side of Fuji-san. That way we’ll get to the summit without being seen - and we’ll avoid them by coming down a different way.’

  He peered cautiously over the ridge to take a last look at the line of climbers far below. Under the leadership of the white-clad goriki, the whole column was moving smoothly upwards, evidently following a more direct path that had not been discernible to Eden from below. The goriki had long ropes slung over their shoulders and they were using them frequently to help the samurai clamber up the steepest slopes. They were ascending at more than twice the rate he and Sentaro had achieved and after watching their progress for several moments, Eden turned and laid an encouraging hand on his companion’s bony shoulder.

  ‘They’re catching us up fast. We must try to move more quickly ourselves.’

  ‘I am rested now, master,’ said the castaway eagerly. ‘I am quite ready to climb again.’

  Eden looked at him for a moment. His narrow, unlined face was serious, its expression calm and determined. In his eyes there was an excited brightness, but there was no sign of doubt or lack of confidence in Eden’s leadership.

  ‘Good, Sentaro. Then we’ll go on.’

  Eden tapped his closed fist gently against the castaway’s upper arm and, without speaking further, turned and led the way onto the narrow, northward facing ledge.

  31

  FROM THE SADDLE of his moving horse, Yakamochi, eldest son and heir of Lord Daizo of Haifu, gazed angrily up at the dark mass of Mount Fuji that towered above him. Thick cloud still enveloped its upper regions, but high on an area of its harsh sable flanks that was still visible from below the file of Prince Tanaka’s samurai and their goriki could be seen moving steadily upward. As they approached the lower banks of cloud, the leading climbers were already becoming indistinct shapes, and Yakamochi cursed softly beneath his breath.

  ‘How far ahead of us are the men of the Kago clan?’ he asked, continuing to watch the tiny moving specks through narrowed eyes. ‘How many hours will it take for us to reach that level?’

  ‘At least two hours, my lord replied the stocky leader of a group of shaven-headed monks who were trotting beside his horse, carrying staves and coiled ropes of plaited cotton. ‘Possibly three hours, if the mist comes down heavily again.’

  Yakamochi’s face creased into a scowl and as the hillside was becoming too steep for horses to negotiate easily, he reined in his mount. Behind him his troop of fifty warriors immediately brought their horses to a standstill, and the monks who had been hired from a nearby mountain monastery to guide them also came obediently to a halt.

  ‘Is it possible for us to catch them up?’ demanded Yakamochi of the leading monk. ‘If we dismount now and go forward quickly on foot?’

  The monk glanced up the steep slopes of the volcano. ‘The guides, my lord, are the most experienced in these regions. They are goriki, trained men of the mountains, and they have already led the Kago samurai to a considerable height. By following in their footsteps it would be impossible to catch them up before they reach the summit.’

  Yakamochi cursed again and raised his head to look skyward. A lone eagle was floating silently in and out of the mists high above them, and he gazed at it for a long moment in silence.

>   ‘If we had the wings of the eagle, we would be able to find the foreign barbarian very quickly he said vehemently, watching the great bird glide effortlessly through the lower clouds. ‘But, earthbound, we are blind in these mists.’

  ‘My lord, if you wish to look down on the world like an eagle, it would be better for you to fly up quickly above the clouds.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Yakamochi looked down sharply at the leading monk, who had made his suggestion in a calm, gentle voice. ‘How can we fly up above the clouds?’

  ‘On such days as this, my lord, the peak of Fuji- san itself almost always stands above the clouds...’

  ‘That is possibly true,’ broke in Yakamochi impatiently, ‘but how can it help us?’

  The monk gestured briefly towards two riderless horses that were being led by Yakamochi’s samurai guard captain. ‘At the inn where you found these horses, the teishi said the foreign barbarian and his collaborator left to climb Fuji-san alone and without guides. Therefore they will be moving only slowly. But by riding fast for a few short miles, you could climb quickly to the peak by a route which is little known...’

  ‘Do you truly know such a route?’

  ‘Yes, I do, my lord. And by using it you will be able to overtake both the men of the Kago clan and the foreign barbarian at a single stroke! From the summit you could then look down on your approaching enemies before they see you - just like the emperor of all birds’

  Yakamochi stared hard at the monk, his face alight suddenly with excitement. ‘A worthy suggestion - that way we will prevent the foreign barbarian from reaching the peak and profaning the most sacred precincts of our gods!’

  ‘We pray so, my lord.’ The monk bowed his head low to acknowledge Yakamochi’s praise, then glanced up the mountain again to where the last of the distant climbers could be seen disappearing into the bank of low cloud. ‘But to ensure we reach our goal in time, my lord, we should leave at this very moment.’