Shogun_ A Novel of Japan - James Clavell [473]
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