into the stream, gulls crying in the wake, and Blackthorne pulled himself out of his daze enough to say coherently, “No. So sorry. Go Yokohama. Must Yokohama.”
“First get men at Nagasaki, Anjin-san, understand? Important. First men! Have plan,” Yabu said.
“No. Go Yokohama. My ship .?.?. my ship danger.”
“What danger?” Yabu demanded.
“Christians say .?.?. say fire!”
“What!!”
“For the love of Christ, Pilot, what’s amiss?” Vinck cried out.
Blackthorne pointed shakily toward the lorcha. “They told me .?.?. they told me
Six
CHAPTER SIXTY
He stood in the shallows and looked out at the charred skeleton of his ship aground and heeled over, awash in the small surf, seventy yards seaward, masts gone, decks gone, everything gone, except for the keel and the ribs of her chest that jutted to the sky.
“The monkeys tried to beach her,” Vinck said sullenly.
“No. The tide took her there.”
“For Christ’s sweet sake, why say that, Pilot? If you’ve a God-cursed fire and you’re near the God-cursed shore you beach her to fight it there! Jesus, even these piss-arsed bastards know that!” Vinck spat on the sand. “Monkeys! You should never’ve left her to them. What’re we going to do now? How we going to get home? You should’ve left her at Yedo safe, an’ us safe, with our eters.”
The whine in Vinck’s voice irritated Blackthorne. Everything about Vinck irritated him now. Three times in the last week he had almost told his vassals to knife Vinck quietly and throw him overboard to put him out of his misery when the weeping and bewailing and accusations had become too much. But he had always curbed his temper and gone aloft or below to seek out Yabu. Near Yabu, Vinck made no sound, petrified of him, and rightly. Aboard it had been easy to contain himself. Here, shamed before his ship’s nakedness, it was not easy.
“Perhaps they beached her, Johann,” he said, weary unto death.
“You bet the muck-eating bastards beached her! But they didn’t put out the fire, God curse them all to hell! Should never’ve let Jappos on her, stinking, piss-arsed monkeys.?.?.?.”
Blackthorne shut his ears and concentrated on the galley. She was moored downwind to the wharf, a few hundred paces away, by Yokohama village. The lean-tos of the Musket Regiment were still scattered about the foreshore and foothills, men drilling, hurrying, a pall of anxiety over all of them. It was a warm sunny day with a fair wind blowing. His nose caught a scent of mimosa perfume. He could see Kiri and Lady Sazuko in conversation under orange sunshades on the forepoop and he wondered if the perfume came from them. Then he watched Yabu and Naga walking up and down the wharf, Naga talking and Yabu listening, both very tense. Then he saw them look across at him. He sensed their restlessness.
When the galley had rounded the point two hours ago, Yabu had said, “Why go look closer, Anjin-san? Ship dead,
“So sorry—stop here. Must look close. Please.”
“Go Yedo! Ship dead—finished.
“You want, you go. I swim.”
“Wait. Ship dead,
“So sorry, please stop. Little time. Then Yedo.”
At length Yabu had agreed and they had docked and Naga had met them. “So sorry, Anjin-san.
“Yes, so sorry. Please what happen?”
“So sorry, don’t know. Not
“Understand. Yes. Please continue.”
“So little earthquake. At night. Some men say tidal wave arrive, some say not tidal wave but just one big wave, storm wave. There was a storm that night,
“Yes.”
“Ah, so sorry. Very dark night. They say big wave come. They say oil lamps on deck break. Ship catch fire,
“But guards, Naga-san? Where deck men?”
“Very dark. Fire very quick, understand? So sorry.
“Where deck men, Naga-san? I leave guard.
“When I returned one day later, very sorry,
“All of them? All to death?”
“Yes—they failed in their duty.”
“What Lord Toranaga say?”
“Very angry. Very right to be angry,
Blackthorne had thought about that number and he wanted to shriek, five thousand or fifty thousand can’t repay the loss of my ship! “Bad,” his mouth was saying. “Yes, very bad.”
“Yes. Better go Yedo. Today. War today, tomorrow, next day. Sorry.”
Then Naga had spoken intently with Yabu for a few moments, and Blackthorne, dull-witted, hating the foul- sounding words, hating Naga and Yabu and all of them, could barely follow him though he saw Yabu’s unease increase. Naga turned again to him with an embarrassed finality. “So sorry, Anjin-san. Nothing more I could do.
Blackthorne had forced himself to nod. “
Then, suddenly, down by the shore, they had come on the grisly remains of the heads. More than a hundred, hidden from the wharf by dunes and stuck on spears. Seabirds rose up in a white shrieking cloud as they