Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [17]
Jan Roper hissed, “Didn’t the others die through your ambition, Pilot? God 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 bastard. 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 ship. 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 God we’ll overpower the heathen and take the ship.”
“Clear the shit 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 God’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 ships 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 ships became one and now he felt he was the oldest among them. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“How long have we been ashore, 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 ship. 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 ashore. 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 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’ too. What’s going to happen when the daimyo arrives?”
“Has anyone got a knife or a pistol?”