“Christ! They’re barbarians! Lunatics!” Ginsel was tall, a good-looking youth with short arms and very bowed legs. The scurvy had taken all his teeth. “After he chopped his head off, the others just walked away? Without saying anything?”
“Yes.”
“Christ Jesus, an unarmed man, murdered, just like that? Why’d he do it? Why’d he kill him?”
“I don’t know, Ginsel. But you’ve never seen such speed. One moment the sword was sheathed, the next the man’s head was rolling.”
“God protect us!”
“Dear Lord Jesus,” van Nekk murmured. “If we can’t get back to the ship .?.?. God damn that storm, I feel so helpless without my spectacles!”
“How many samurai were aboard, Pilot?” Ginsel asked.
“Twenty-two were on deck. But there were more ashore.”
“The wrath of God will be upon the heathen and on sinners and they’ll burn in hell for all eternity.”
“I’d like to be sure of that, Jan Roper,” Blackthorne said, an edge to his voice, as he felt the fear of God’s vengeance sweep through the room. He was very tired and wanted to sleep.
“You can be sure, Pilot, oh yes, I am. I pray that your eyes are opened to God’s truth. That you come to realize we’re here only because of you—what’s left of us.”
“What?” Blackthorne said dangerously.
“Why did you really persuade the Captain-General to try for the Japans? It wasn’t in our orders. We were to pillage the New World, to carry the war into the enemy’s belly, then go home.”
“There were Spanish ships south and north of us and nowhere else to run. Has your memory gone along with your wits? We had to sail west—it was our only chance.”
“I never saw enemy ships, Pilot. None of us did.”
“Come now, Jan,” van Nekk said wearily. “The Pilot did what he thought best. Of course the Spaniards were there.”
“Aye, that’s the truth, and we was a thousand leagues from friends and in enemy waters, by God!” Vinck spat. “That’s the God’s truth—and the God’s truth was we put it to a vote. We all said yes.”
“I didn’t.”
Sonk said, “No one asked me.”
“Oh, Christ Jesus!”
“Calm down, Johann,” van Nekk said, trying to ease the tension. “We’re the first ones to reach the Japans. Remember all the stories, eh? We’re rich if we keep our wits. We have trade goods and there’s gold here—there must be. Where else could we sell our cargo? Not there in the New World, hunted and harried! They were hunting us and the Spaniards knew we were off Santa Maria. We had to quit Chile and there was no escape back through the Strait—of course they’d be lying in wait for us, of course they would! No, here was our only chance and a good idea. Our cargo exchanged for spices and gold and silver, eh? Think of the profit—a thousandfold, that’s usual. We’re in the Spice Islands. You know the riches of the Japans and Cathay, you’ve heard about them forever. We all have. Why else did we all sign on? We’ll be rich, you’ll see!”
“We’re dead men, like all the others. We’re in the land of Satan.”
Vinck said angrily, “Shut your mouth, Roper! The Pilot did right. Not his fault the others died—not his fault. Men always die on these voyages.”
Jan Roper’s eyes were flecked, the pupils tiny. “Yes, God rest their souls. My brother was one.”
Blackthorne looked into the fanatic eyes, hating Jan Roper. Inside he was asking himself if he had really sailed west to elude the enemy ships. Or was it because he was the first English pilot through the Strait, first in position, ready and able to stab west and therefore first with the chance of circumnavigating?
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
“Has anyone got a knife or a pistol?”
“No,” van Nekk said, scratching absently at the lice in his hair.
“They took all our clothes away to clean them and kept the weapons. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. They took my keys too, as well as my pistol. I had all my keys on a ring. The strong room, the strongbox, and the magazine.”
“Everything’s locked tight aboard. No need to worry about that.”
“I don’t like not having my keys. Makes me very nervous. Damn my eyes, I could use a brandy right now. Even a flagon of ale.”
