Hayato raised his head and peered up into the swirling dust. He could just make out the shape of the man above him silhouetted against the orange glow from beyond the hole. He could not discern the man’s appearance, but now he was sure. Overwhelming relief and thankfulness washed over him and he was once more struck by the miracle of his survival. It must truly be a benevolent Kami that watched over him this night. He gave way to a spasm of coughing, became aware of footsteps, clattering masonry and more obnoxious, choking dust tumbling towards him. Then there was a knee on the ground near to his head. Strong hands beneath his armpits and then Jun’s face in his. The First Samurai’s smile was obvious despite the darkness.
“General Furuki. I dare not believe it to be you,” Hayato croaked and gave way to another bout of coughing.
“It is I Sir. Come, we must get you out of here before anyone thinks to check on the prisoners. Is there anyone else?”
Hayato shook his head.
“All buried and I hope dead,” he replied.
Jun nodded his understanding. They did not have time to comb the debris for survivors and yet he shuddered at the thought of a slow asphyxiating death should anyone be unlucky enough to still be alive.
“The foreign Kapitan. He found you then? You are with Karasu?” Hayato asked choking once more as he was helped to his feet.
“Aye or more like Karasu found him. I was sceptical of his use to us, but your brother convinced me otherwise. But let us not talk of this now. There will be time later. We must get out of here.”
Jun aided his young master to the top of the masonry and tied the rope around his waist. He whistled to Riki above and then as he lifted Hayato the Samurai above pulled. Hayato was heaved from his prison. He lay on the ground panting from the exertion of his escape, sadly understanding that he would never have made it alone and willing the pain in his leg to subside. Jun climbed out next to him and began to unfasten the rope. Riki smiled and bowed as Hayato nodded his thanks and suppressed another cough. He pulled himself upright rubbing the dirt from his eyes and face. He breathed in deeply wishing to replace the fetid dungeon air with something cleaner and fresher. However, his first lungful tasted sour and he was aware of a foul, sulphurous odour. He grimaced and was about to comment in jest that the air in Hana-Shi-Ku was as evil as its Presidor when an ominous, deeply thundering rumble shook the ground. But this was unlike the recent earthquake. This was an altogether different monster and one that sent a menacing reverberation through men and buildings alike. Everything seemed to vibrate in resonance with the rolling sonorous roar as it rose to a crescendo.
“What the?” Riki exclaimed in alarm just as a powerful explosion rent the air causing already crumbling buildings to tremble and collapse still further and sending workers running for their lives. Above the city of Hana-Shi-Ku a sleeping behemoth was waking.
TWENTY-EIGHT
They waited until the sun sank behind the mountains to the West having sat out most of the day on the frigate’s Bridge. They had dozed a little and eaten a meagre meal of dried meat and rice cakes that Hiraiwa had brought in a small sack. Thom had spent time undertaking small repairs and a further, more detailed examination of the ship just to reassure himself. He had returned when his fat lamp burned dry and guttered to a stinking end leaving its pungent aroma to mingle with the stale air within the belly of the frigate. Feeling his way up the final flight of steps and onto a scorching deck, blistering in the afternoon heat of the sun, he had quickly clambered up the ladder onto the Bridge. Spying his companions squatting beneath a makeshift awning made from a rather tattered tarpaulin he had joined them wiping the sweat from his face on the sleeve of his haori jacket. The two men had been chatting amicably, exchanging tales of their very different lives when he threw himself on the boards beside them.
“Discover anything new?” Karasu asked after searching Devlin’s face with keen interest. Part of him worried that the old warship was not as seaworthy as first thought.
“No. I’m happy that our old Orca will do what we ask of her. She’s not ready to go to the bottom yet,” Thom smiled in return.
“Orca?”
“Tis her name. Had to find it written somewhere. Tis usually on the stern, but I did not spot it coming over and tis damned unlucky not to know a ship’s name,” the Kapitan explained with a sheepish grin, which Karasu returned thinking it strange that someone as worldly as Devlin could be so superstitious.
“Anything else?”
“No. Like I said, she will sail alright. Might not be good enough for the Imperial Navy, but she will do for us. We just need to get the men aboard now.
“Gods this infernal heat will be the death of me! Is it never cold in this country of yours? Where is the afternoon rain today?” Thom complained.
Karasu laughed and translated the question to include Hiraiwa. The Second Samurai grinned widely and nodded his head in agreement whilst fanning himself with his hat.
“It not always rain Kapitan. This rainy season, but some days it remain fine like this and then we bake in sun. It more unusual to have morning rain as we did today. Now humidity soar and heat become almost unbearable. However, in winter it snow and then we freeze. It not so where you come from?” Karasu replied.
“The sea is my home I have told you. It has many moods and many faces, but I have never suffered from the heat as I do here,” Thom said.
“There no homeland at all? No country to which you belong? Tell me about island.”
“The Rock? It has a natural harbour and there are times when the clans gather there. Tis a dry and barren place where the sun bakes the soil hard as stone, but its climate is not like this. I never feel as if I am cast into the depths of Hell. In Spring it rains and then the place is covered in millions of flowers. Their scents fill the air with a wonderful perfume that is strong in the evening and early morning. For a few weeks the place is beautiful but all too soon the sun dries the earth and the flowers wither and die. The rest of the year the island becomes a wasteland.
“I suppose if there was anywhere on land I should call home that would be it. My mother has a small villa there overlooking the lagoon. She stops there when the clans gather and for the Spring.
“I went to school in Eirla and I go there often. My people are nomads. We live and die at sea and our bodies are buried within its depths. Tis where we ply our trade,” Thom concluded wondering why he had divulged so much. He picked at a splinter of wood on the deck.
“You call it trade then? Piracy. Robbing other vessels and other Kapitans of cargoes and livelihood.”
Thom whipped his head up to stare at the ronin a retort ready on his lips, but he saw no accusation. Karasu had merely made a statement. For a moment the Kapitan did not know how to respond. Eventually he simply said yes feeling strangely uncomfortable with the truth. Karasu nodded.
“Pity,” he said, “You are so much more than common thief,” he added with a sad smile and closed his eyes to sleep.
Thom gaped at him dumbfounded.
“What would you know? You have hardly lived boy,” he muttered inaudibly and grumpily turned his back on his companions and also tried to sleep.
Hiraiwa woke Thom by roughly shaking him by the shoulder. As the pirate’s eyes opened blearily the Second Samurai spoke to him loudly as if speaking to someone hard of hearing.
“Sun down.”
“The sun set behind mountains. It time to leave I think,” Karasu said as Thom rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his back. Hell, he ached! Must have slept for too long in one position. He heaved himself to his feet and peered over the bulwark towards the quayside. Lights were being lit all around the harbour in fishing hovels and bars and the sky above was turning from a pinkish hue to a deep azure blue.
“Let us return then,” he agreed and the three men climbed back into the small, borrowed boat and rowed across to the dockside where they crept silently towards their horses fastened under the shelter of a small lean-to. The owner of the boat, howeve
r, was nowhere to be seen and the trio departed like ghosts into the night.
It was past midnight when they arrived back at the bay to what, Thom thought, was a magically beautiful sight of the Rose at anchor silhouetted majestically against a starlit sky and bathed in the soft sheen of a half moon. He smiled broadly as a wave of affection swept through him. Funny how one could become so attached to what many would only see as a means of transport, a vessel made of wood and canvass. But Thom knew that the Rose lived and breathed just as he did. He understood her moods and her fickleness and he knew, as any clever lover did, just how to cajole her into bending to his will. He was conscious of her limitations yet he could push her further than others would dare and still bring her back from the brink with comfortable ease. Although there were times when she exasperated him more than he would ever admit, to him she was a thing of sublime beauty and his heart never failed to expand at the sight of her. It did not matter how many steel clad warships he might come to command, the Rose would always be foremost in his affection. He blew her a loving kiss as he reined his horse to a standstill on the beach and jumped down to the welcome of a handful of his comrades.
The Samurai warriors greeted their fellow countrymen with happy enthusiasm and much curiosity and eyed the foreign pirate with similar inquisitiveness. A number of pirates had come ashore and swelled the Kapitan’s welcome party to eight, including the First Mate, Aledd. A lamb was roasting on a spit and as the trio sat down with the others to eat they answered the many questions that were demanded. Karasu related events to Taku and a group of Samurai officers whilst noting that Devlin did the same to his men, talking animatedly and with gesticulated embellishment. The ronin smiled to himself thinking that the Kapitan was assuredly a vain individual who relished the limelight to an extent that would be deemed vulgar in Ashiman society. Yet Thom’s men seemed impressed and even openly encouraged their leader’s exaggeration.
“We have cut much wood Shukke. The big, fair haired man made us pile some of it into a row boat. The rest is stacked yonder above the tide line.
“You really think the warship will sail then? Kapitan Devlin is sure of it?” Taku queried interrupting the ronin’s study.
“Yes, he is confident,” Karasu returned.
“Good, then soon we will avenge your father. When do you think the Kapitan will wish to go? It must be soon, otherwise we may fail to rescue Lord Oyama and Lady Mizuki,” Taku continued.
“The Kapitan says we should leave tonight as the tide turns.”
“Tonight! But it is too far surely. We have to row six distances and it grows light early. What if we are seen?”
“The Kapitan says the tide will aid our passage out of the bay and once out in the open sea a strong current will assist our journey. Apparently it travels swiftly and to the south. He understands these things Taku. He makes his living based on such judgments. I think we can trust him. I agree we must leave soon.
“You must help Hiraiwa-san to pick twenty of our men. They will be needed to feed the ship’s furnaces with wood,” Karasu instructed.
“Cannot the foreign sailors do this? Our men are soldiers not men who feed furnaces,” Taku protested.
“Devlin’s men will do their share, but some will need to stay here with their ship as most of our men will stay. Those that come with us will be needed to carry out other duties. Do any of the Samurai know anything about sailing such a vessel? We are not sailors. We have no understanding of such things, but we can throw wood into a fire,” Karasu explained patiently with a smile. He understood that the Samurai would protest at what they would consider menial work beneath their warrior status and therefore, not befitting their station in life. Taku looked as though he might argue further but thought better of it; after all he did not know one end of a ship from another. With a bow he left to find twenty men
It seemed to Karasu that they had barely returned to the bay before they were embarking onto two row boats, a third, filled with wood, in tow behind. Devlin sat in one boat along with ten of his own men and ten Samurai most of whom looked distinctly uncomfortable on the water in such a small vessel. Karasu was in the other along with Taku, Aledd and twenty other pirates and Samurai. He had had a brief altercation with the Kapitan before climbing aboard. Devlin had protested that he was surplus to requirement unless he intended to work in the boiler room and the Samurai would not hear of such a degrading task for a priest and a man of noble birth. Karasu’s place could have been taken by someone more useful whilst he waited in the bay either aboard the Rose or with his own people on the beach. But the ronin had insisted and countered the Kapitan’s argument by saying he was needed to translate orders into Ashiman otherwise the Samurai would not understand. Devlin had almost retorted by saying it was not hard to show a man how to throw a log into a boiler regardless of what language he spoke, but resisted. He recognised the lad’s need to be there, to be a part of the whole adventure, in the midst of everything, even though he would be better off out of it. It was something that he would have demanded also if their positions were reversed.
The pirates heaved on the oars propelling the long boats from the bay, aided by an ebbing tide. The other occupants either appeared grimly determined or barely hid their anxiety at disappearing into a black night on an equally dark ocean in only a small wooden vessel. There were tales of evil sea monsters attacking fishing boats and taking their occupants to the depths and if one could not see, then how could one fight such creatures?
Thom stood at the prow of his boat searching the gloomy sea for the tell-tale sign where the surface became agitated as the ebbing tide met the fast flowing southerly current. It would be hard to see, but not impossible and he ordered his men to continue rowing whilst he stared hard and listened intently to the night.
The Rose had shrunk to the size of a bath tub toy when he saw the change he searched for, where the water surface became choppy and the boats were pulled discernibly to the south. The current was further out than he had remembered and they had spent more time reaching the fast flow than he had expected, but as he glanced at his men and the Samurai, no one appeared concerned. However, he now doubted that they would make it to the Orca and get all the fuel on board by dawn, but he chose to keep his fears to himself. What good would it do anyway? If they were seen they would just have to work faster at getting the frigate away from Kyo-To-Shi or at worst put her guns into action earlier. It might give everyone good target practice anyway. He fidgeted uneasily, not overly confident with his rationale and, glancing sideways at the silhouetted figure of the priest in the other boat, felt a pang of guilt. Maybe they should have waited until tomorrow night as Karasu had argued.
A little under two hours later they crept into the harbour at Kyo-To-Shi under the thankfully dark blanket of cloud that had drifted in from the sea and hidden the moon. It was still an hour before dawn and the air was languid and sultry with the promise of yet another suffocatingly hot day ahead. The only sound as they left the open sea was the steady rhythmic splash and creak of oars as the pirates steadily brought the long boats alongside the rusting hull of the steamer. She sat broadside on to the harbour mouth and they used her bulk as cover so as not to be seen from ashore, though few thought there would be anyone abroad to see their progress. With the tide still ebbing it would be unlikely that any fishermen would return and those putting to sea should have gone hours ago. No lights burned on the quay side or in the town beyond. The city was as quiet as the grave, but it would not remain so for long. Thom scanned the eastern horizon biting his lip. Still pitch dark, but an hour would see the first strains of grey light stealing resolutely towards them. His boat bumped into the frigate.
“Tie her off and get aboard. Bring the wood aft, there’s a hoist, it’ll make loading faster,” he commanded in a voice little above a whisper. The men set to work. The pirates securing the little craft to the frigate and climbing a ladder then pulling the boat containing the wood towards the ship’s stern whilst the Samurai followed. Thom
brought up the rear once assured that his orders were being carried out and that the other long boat had fastened off aside his. On the main deck he oversaw the loading of their fuel and posted lookouts on either side of the Orca as well as fore and aft. He wanted no one taking them by surprise, though he felt sure they were safe yet. As Aledd and Karasu joined him, along with a decidedly shaken looking Taku, he instructed the First Mate to take his lamp below decks and try and find some other lights that they may use to see their way to the boiler room.
“Once we have the furnaces running and enough steam up we can power the generator. Then we see how many of the lights still work, but until then we are blind below deck. There are no portholes in the engine and boiler rooms and most of the interior,” he explained to Karasu.
“Porthole?” Karasu queried absently as he tried to determine what the best use of the Samurai might be at present. For the most part they stood around either appearing at a loss or taking mild interest in the ship by fiddling with various pieces of equipment, machinery or stroking the massive guns with wondrous approbation.
“Window. Could you ask your friends to lend my men a hand with the wood? It will be light in less than an hour and I want it below decks by then along with everyone on board,” Thom replied and requested with mild irritation.
Karasu nodded and explained to Taku what needed to be done. The squat warrior grunted and strode off to pass on the order.
“Taku not enjoy our journey in such small boat. I think many of Hiraiwa’s men felt same,” Karasu commented a few seconds later feeling the need to make small talk. Thom smirked but did not answer. He saw Aledd returning and walked off to join him.
Between them Aledd and Thom rigged up a string of lamps from the deck to the boiler and engine rooms whilst the wood was lifted on board and then, as the sky began to brighten in the east, turning dark shadows into colourless grey shapes, they all turned to the task of taking the fuel below. The last logs were bundled away as the sun tinged the horizon pink before obstinately disappearing up into the cloud and the unspectacular dawn diffused barely noticed into a dull, overcast day.
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