"That's the trouble with all Ingeles. No patience. Listen, here you don't ask Japmen anything - samurai or others, they're all the same. If you do, they'll hesitate, then ask the man above for the decision. Here you have to act. Of course" - his hearty laugh ran across the waves - "sometimes you get killed if you act wrong."
"You scull very well. I was wondering how to use the oars when you came."
"You don't think I'd let you go alone, do you? What's your name?"
"Blackthorne. John Blackthorne."
"Have you ever been north, Ingeles? Into the far north?"
"I was with Kees Veerman in Der Lifle. Eight years ago. It was his second voyage to find the Northeast Passage. Why?"
"I'd like to hear about that - and all the places you've been. Do you think they'll ever find the way? The northern way to Asia, east or west?"
"Yes. You and the Spanish block both southern routes, so we'll have to. Yes, we will. Or the Dutch. Why?"
"And you've piloted the Barbary Coast, eh?"
"Yes. Why?"
"And you know Tripoli?"
"Most pilots have been there. Why?"
"I thought I'd seen you once. Yes, it was Tripoli. You were pointed out to me. The famous Ingeles pilot. Who went with the Dutch explorer, Kees Veerman, into the Ice Seas-and was once a captain with Drake, eh? At the Armada? How old were you then?"
"Twenty-four. What were you doing in Tripoli?"
"I was piloting an Ingeles privateer. My ship'd got taken in the Indies by this pirate, Morrow - Henry Morrow was his name. He burned my ship to the waterline after he'd sacked her and offered me the pilot's job - his man was useless, so he said - you know how it is. He wanted to go from there - we were watering off Hispaniola when he caught us - south along the Main, then back across the Atlantic to try to intercept the annual Spanish gold ship near the Canaries, then on through the Straits to Tripoli if we missed her to try for other prizes, then north again to England. He made the usual offer to free my comrades, give them food and boats in return if I joined them. I said, 'Sure, why not? Providing we don't take any Portuguese shipping and you put me ashore near Lisbon and don't steal my rutters.' We argued back and forth as usual-you know how it is. Then I swore by the Madonna and we both swore on the Cross and that was that. We had a good voyage and some fat Spanish merchantmen fell into our wake. When we were off Lisbon he asked me to stay aboard, gave me the usual message from Good Queen Bess, how she'd pay a princely bounty to any Portuguese pilot who'd join her and teach others the skill at Trinity House, and give five thousand guineas for the ratter of Magellan's Pass, or the Cape of Good Hope." His smile was broad, his teeth white and strong, and his dark mustache and beard well groomed. "I didn't have them. At least that's what I told him. Morrow kept his word, like all pirates should. He put me ashore with my rutters - of course he'd had them copied though he himself couldn't read or write, and he even gave me my share of the prize money. You ever sail with him, Ingeles?"
"No. The Queen knighted him a few years ago. I've never served on one of his ships. I'm glad he was fair with you."
They were nearing Erasmus. Samurai were peering down at them quizzically.
"That was the second time I'd piloted for heretics. The first time I wasn't so lucky."
"Oh?" Rodrigues shipped his oars and the boat swerved neatly to the side and he hung onto the boarding ropes. "Go aloft but leave the talking to me."
Blackthorne began to climb while the other pilot tied the boat safely. Rodrigues was the first on deck. He bowed like a courtier. "Konnichi wa to all sod-eating samas!"
There were four samurai on deck. Blackthorne recognized one of them as a guard of the trapdoor. Nonplussed, they bowed stiffly to the Portuguese. Blackthorne aped him, feeling awkward, and would have preferred to bow correctly.
Rodrigues walked straight for the companionway. The seals were neatly in place. One of the samurai intercepted him.
"Kinjiru, gomen nasai." It's forbidden, so sorry.
"Kinjiru, eh?" the Portuguese said, openly unimpressed. "I'm Rodrigu-san, anjin for Toda Hiro-matsu-sama. This seal," he said, pointing to the red stamp with the odd writing on it, "Toda Hiromatsu-sama, ka?"
"lye," the samurai said, shaking his head. "Kasigi Yabu-sama!"
"IYE?" Rodrigues said. "Kasigi Yabu-sama? I'm from Toda Hiromatsu-sama, who's a bigger king than your bugger and Toady-sama's from Toranaga-sama, who's the biggest bugger-sama in this whole world. Neh?" He ripped the seal off the door, dropped a hand to one of his pistols. The swords were half out of their scabbards and he said quietly to Blackthorne, "Get ready to abandon ship," and to the samurai he said gruffly, "Toranaga-sama!" He pointed with his left hand at the flag which fluttered at his own masthead. "Wakarimasu ka?"
The samurai hesitated, their swords ready. Blackthorne prepared to dive over the side.
"Toranaga-sama!" Rodrigues crashed his foot against the door, the latch snapped and the door burst open. "WAKARIMASU KA?"
"Wakarimasu, Anjin-san." The samurai quickly put their swords away and bowed and apologized and bowed again and Rodrigues said hoarsely, "That's better," and led the way below.
"Christ Jesus, Rodrigues," Blackthorne said when they were on the lower deck. "Do you do this all the time and get away with it?"
"I do it very seldom," the Portuguese said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "and even then I wish I'd never started it."
Blackthorne leaned against the bulkhead. "I feel as if someone's kicked me in the stomach."
"It's the only way. You've got to act like a king. Even so, you can never tell with a samurai. They're as dangerous as a pissed priest with a candle in his arse sitting on a half-full powder keg."
"What did you say to them?"
"Toda Hiro-matsu is Toranaga's chief adviser - he's a bigger daimyo than this local one. That's why they gave in."
"What's he like, Toranaga?"
"Long story, Ingeles." Rodrigues sat on the step, pulled his boot off, and rubbed his ankle. "I nearly broke my foot on your lice-eaten door. "
"It wasn't locked. You could have just opened it."
"I know. But that wouldn't have been as effective. By the Blessed Virgin, you've got a lot to learn!"
"Will you teach me?"
Rodrigues pulled his boot back on. "That depends," he said.
"On what?"
"We'll have to see, won't we? I've done all the talking so far, which is fair - I'm fit, you're not. Soon it'll be your turn. Which is your cabin?"
Blackthorne studied him for a moment. The smell below decks was stiff and weathered. "Thanks for helping me come aboard."
He led the way aft. His door was unlocked. The cabin had been ransacked and everything removable had been taken. There were no books or clothes or instruments or quills. His sea chest too was unlocked. And empty.
White with rage, he walked into the Great Cabin, Rodrigues watching intently. Even the secret compartment had been found and looted.
"They've taken everything. The sons of plague-infested lice!"
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. I thought - with the seals-" Blackthorne went to the strong room. It was bare. So was the magazine. The holds contained only the bales of woolen cloth. "God curse all Jappers!" He went back to his cabin and slammed his sea chest closed.