by Anthony Grey
A fearful stillness had fallen on the watching civilian crowd. For several long moments they stood and stared blankly at the lifeless remains of the bearer and the samurai guard captain, lying only yards apart. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they began one by one to turn and move quietly away.
In the distance, at the foot of the hill, the galloping Makabe samurai were beginning to catch up with the running men. Their swords flashed repeatedly in the morning sun as they struck again and again from the height of their saddles; two Kago warriors fell before they could reach the protection of the wooded slope, then both pursuers and pursued disappeared among the trees.
‘It’s not yet too late,’ whispered Lord Daizo fiercely. He had sat unmoving astride his horse, watching without emotion as his son decapitated the hapless bearer, then the guard captain performed the expected, ritual self-disembowelment; now he turned his back on the distant skirmishing and gesticulated towards his son. ‘Send more men quickly into the hills to search again!’
‘Yes, O Kami-san,’ said Yakamochi, bowing low in response. ‘I will do that at once!’
Lord Daizo watched his son despatch a larger number of warriors to begin combing the hills, then leaned down towards him from the saddle. ‘We can still launch the lethal attack in the pavilion! Even without the barbarian prisoner, warriors hidden under the floor will obey my signal through the interpreter. Bring the rest of your men and follow me!’
Pulling the head of his horse round towards the sea, Lord Daizo dug his spurs sharply into its flanks and sent it springing forward, in the direction of the ceremonial pavilion once more.
47
PRINCE TANAKA glanced repeatedly over his shoulder as he raced downhill on foot beside the captured Makabe norimono. There were no immediate signs or sounds of pursuit from the winding, wooded track to their rear but, because he could still scarcely believe how perfectly his deception had worked, he felt an irresistible compulsion to check behind every few moments. Close around the non- mono, Gotaro and a dozen Kago guards who had quickly retrieved their horses were riding with drawn swords in their hands, determined not to make the same error as their enemies. They had gained their prize unseen, by emerging from the mist above the ravine like silent, fleet-footed ghosts, and from time to time they brandished their blades wordlessly before the faces of the frightened Makabe bearers to remind them of the continuing need for silence as they hurried the chair down towards the bay.
‘Look, O Kami-san!’ exclaimed Gotaro excitedly, pointing ahead as they rounded another bend in the track. ‘There’s the bridge!’
A quarter of a mile below then, half a dozen unrailed planks had become visible, straddling a narrow rushing stream. Just below it, the stream widened into a turbulent but navigable creek, where water that foamed down the hillside swirled onward more slowly, heading for the sea. Tanaka nodded wordlessly as he ran, then exclaimed aloud himself as a guard-boat rowed vigorously by a dozen Kago samurai oarsmen came into sight, pulling hard upstream.
‘That’s our craft. Let’s speed up!’
Although one of the rearmost guards was now leading his riderless horse, Tanaka had chosen to run down the hillside on foot in order to supervise the progress of the norimono more closely. Because he still wore the loin-cloth and turban, when he arrived at the bridge where the Kago guard-boat had moored, its occupants did not at first recognize their master. Only when Tanaka tugged off the turban and tossed it aside did the boat commander bow apologetically low, along with all the startled members of his crew.
‘You’ve made excellent progress against this fierce current,’ called Tanaka from the bank, raising his voice above- the roar of the water. ‘Now I have a special mission for you. Are you ready to conquer any difficulties you may face?’
‘Yes, of course, O Kami-san replied the commander, bowing again. ‘What is the mission?’
Tanaka darted a last wary glance up the hillside as the bearers lowered the norimono to the ground beside the bridge. ‘You are to row as swiftly as possible to the nearest of the black ships, taking with you the body of the foreign barbarian prisoner. It’s vital that you keep the body concealed from all eyes, and once you reach the ship, make absolutely sure it is taken safely aboard. Then row away fast, without offering any explanation. Is that clear?’
‘Quite clear, O Kami-san,’ replied the boat commander gravely. ‘Where is the body?’
‘Wait a moment!’
Tanaka strode over to the samurai guard who had tended his horse and carried his armour and weapons down the hill. After a moment’s hesitation he drew a long sword from its scabbard. Hurrying back to the norimono, he motioned for Gotaro and another guard to take up positions close to the carrying- chair. When they were ready, he unlatched its door with his sword-tip, and stood back. He had opened it only once previously, just after successfully snatching the chair from the Makabe, to satisfy himself that the blindfolded figure inside was without any doubt the foreign barbarian whom he knew; during the frantic dash downhill, the d or had remained firmly closed but now he motioned for Gotaro to swing it back on its hinges and lift the prisoner into the open.
‘Hold him upright,’ commanded Tanaka, as Gotaro and the other guard dragged the trussed figure of Robert Eden out of the chair.
Stepping forward, Tanaka stretched out his sword and sawed quickly through the bonds around the American’s feet and legs. Eden sagged in the arms of the guard captain for a moment, then straightened to stand shakily unaided. Reaching upward with his sword, Tanaka sliced through the blindfold with a single deft movement and whisked it away. With his hands still bound behind his back, Eden blinked round uncertainly at the ring of samurai facing him. His peasant clothing was in tatters, the bandage around his head was caked with dried blood, and his eyes were hazed with pain; but when his gaze came to rest on Tanaka, recognition showed immediately in his expression.
‘Last time we met, Eden-san, I told you that spying in Nippon was punishable with death,’ said Tanaka grimly. ‘To honour your earlier actions, I freed you to return to your ship - why did you choose to disobey my orders?’
Swaying on his feet, Eden straightened his body, trying to flex his cramped muscles as best he could with his hands still bound behind him. For a moment he looked uncertainly at Tanaka, then he lifted his chin defiantly. ‘I rode inland.. . to climb.., your sacred mountain, O Kami-san. That is all.’
Tanaka frowned in puzzlement. ‘In the midst of preparations for war that was a foolish thing to do,’
‘It was done... on an impulse.’ Eden shrugged, speaking with difficulty. ‘Perhaps I hoped it might help me understand. . . your country and its people. If that makes me a spy. . . then I am a spy.’
Tanaka took a step nearer and lifted his sword menacingly. ‘In the barn I warned that if you were recaptured, there would be no escaping execution. You’ve acted very unwisely.’
Eden stood his ground, eyeing Tanaka and the surrounding warriors without flinching. ‘I’ve spent days... anticipating my death, O Kami-san. Why have you waited so long?’
‘You don’t understand,’ snapped Tanaka, taking another half-step forward. ‘Until a few minutes ago you were a captive of Lord Daizo’. And it’s Daizo’s insane wish to start a war with your country He planned to use you to help him gain his ends.’
‘How could he do that?’ asked Eden unsteadily.
‘Your admiral and three hundred other Americans landed half an hour ago to take part in a ceremony near here. Lord Daizo’s men captured you on Mount Fuji and kept you alive so that they could display you there by surprise, as a treacherous spy. That would have provided a reason for all the assembled forces of Nippon to launch an immediate attack.’
‘And now you’ve stopped him,’ said Eden slowly, understanding for the first time. ‘Why did you do that?’
Tanaka’s eyes glittered angrily. ‘Because I believe it would be madness for us to engage in war with well-armed barbarians - at least until Nippon has ships and guns that are jus
t as powerful!’
‘But you’re also guilty, O Kami-san, of the same sort of madness as Lord Daizo said Eden. ‘I did learn something, climbing Fuji-san. . . although not what I expected.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘On Fuji-san, Lord Daizo’s men ruthlessly killed one of their own countrymen - and cast his body into the volcano. Sentaro was a simple man, but he understood something vital - that there can be true friendship between men of different races and nations. He was killed because he was a man of goodwill.’
‘Of what importance is that to me?’ demanded Tanaka coldly. ‘I didn’t kill him!’
‘No, but I heard the orders you just gave to your boatman continued Eden in the same subdued tone. ‘You want to send my dead body back to the black ships - even though I’ve told you I came ashore in peace. Until this moment I thought you’d tried to save my life on Fuji. But I can see now - you too wanted to kill me quietly... Your blindness is as great as Lord Daizo’s.’
Tanaka lifted his head angrily but did not reply. For several seconds the two men stood staring at each other in complete silence. Around them, Gotaro and the other guards shifted and murmured, watching warily.
‘We have spoken enough,’ said Tanaka at last, still holding Eden’s gaze. ‘It is time for action.’
‘I agree, O Kami-san!’
As Eden spoke, he tugged his hands from behind his back and threw aside his loosened bonds. Lunging sideways he snatched a long sword from the astonished Gotaro’s sash and backed away towards the bridge, holding the weapon at arm’s length in front of him.
‘I’ve had nothing to do... for days... except feign unconsciousness. .. and work at loosening my bonds: he gasped, breathing heavily from the sudden exertion. ‘I won’t be executed by you... I’ll die fighting.’
As one man, the ring of Tanaka’s bodyguards unsheathed their swords and began to move forward. Scowling furiously, Gotaro drew his own remaining short sword, and made to spring at the American. But before he could move, Tanaka raised his arm to signal restraint.
‘Wait, Gotaro! Leave him to me! He hasn’t the strength of a baby!’
Eden continued to back away until he reached the end of the bridge, where he stopped, swaying precariously. The crew of the boat, moored a few feet below, watched in silence as Tanaka approached, still holding his sword steadily in front of him. All who were watching could see that Tanaka’s assessment of Eden’s condition was accurate. Greatly weakened by loss of blood and the long, cramped days and nights in the norimono, his face was set in a grimace of pain and it was clear that he remained upright only by a supreme effort of will.
‘Your reckless bravery has not deserted you in the face of death, Eden-san,’ said Tanaka approvingly, as he stopped little more than a sword’s thrust away. ‘Yet a single light blow will finish you now’
Eden’s blade was wavering and his sword arm began to shake as he stared fixedly at Tanaka, half standing, half crouching by the end of the bridge. His eyes were blurring with exhaustion, and his expression suggested that he was aware how the sudden exertion had sapped nearly all his remaining strength; but still he held his racked body in a posture of defiance, readying himself for the attack.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said Tanaka softly, looking past his raised blade and into the American officer’s high-cheek-boned face. ‘Perhaps we share some ancient ancestral blood. Perhaps your wild courage rises from the same fountain which has nourished the finest swordsmen of Nippon.’
‘The Iroquois wise elders used to say. . . “All men of this world are kinsmen”,’ grunted Eden, grimacing and shifting a step nearer the stream. ‘Knowing this, the greatest warriors always stood for peace . . . It seems in Nippon you haven’t learned this vital truth yet
‘I’ve learned another truth, though, Eden-san said Tanaka grimly, lifting his sword higher and taking another step forward. ‘That concerns a foreign barbarian who claims he wants peace above all else - but then does so many rash things that he almost brings about a war single-handed!’ Tanaka paused, his expression darkening. ‘The land begotten by the sun will be a much safer place without you! Your death will be one victory you can’t deny the people of Nippon...’
‘Killing me. . . won’t be a victory for you,’ panted Eden, staring defiantly back at Tanaka. ‘You’ll win only if you make me hate Nippon and its people.’
Frowning, Tanaka continued to stare at him uncertainly.
‘Hatred thrives on ignorance. . . And you want to destroy what little knowledge I have now of your country... You want to stop me taking those few shreds of understanding back to America, don’t you? You want to snuff out any faint hope of peace and friendship between our nations.’
Eden swayed again and almost fell, but recovered his balance with an effort. He continued to stare defiantly at Tanaka, who held his ground but did not
/ move nearer. For some time, neither man spoke; then slowly Tanaka straightened up from his fighting crouch. Without taking his eyes from Eden, he used his free hand to summon the guard tending his armour and his horse. After another pause he suddenly handed over his long sword for re-sheathing, and signalled to the boat commander to step ashore.
‘You will take the foreign barbarian back to his ship now,’ he snapped. ‘Make sure he remains hidden at all times from the view of those in other boats.’ Turning again to Eden, he gestured for Gotaro to come forward. ‘Eden-san, you may restore that sword to Gotaro. In recognition of your valour, I’ve decided to return you to your ship alive.’
For several seconds Eden’s eyes remained wary; and he gazed round suspiciously at each Japanese in his range of vision. Only when he was confident that no trickery was intended did he slowly lift the sword into a vertical position before his face, and incline his head in a formal salute - first to Tanaka, then to Gotaro. The two Japanese waited until he had returned the sword hilt-first, then both bowed their heads similarly in acknowledgement.
Turning away, Eden allowed himself to be helped down into the boat by its commander, and he was led respectfully to a place of concealment inside the high, curved prow. By the time the boat had cast off from the bank, Tanaka was fully dressed once more in his jimbaori, armour and a horned helmet. Standing with his feet astride on the narrow bridge, he watched the crew row Eden swiftly away towards the sea, aided by the fast current. The nobleman made no gesture, but continued to watch the boat in silence until it disappeared from view round a bend in the stream.
As soon as it went out of sight, however, Tanaka leapt into his saddle and urged Gotaro and his guards to mount up. ‘We must ride fast now to the pavilion,’ he called over his shoulder as he set off rapidly in the direction of the beach. ‘Lord Daizo and his warriors will already be there!’
48
SAMUEL ARMSTRONG paused in his formal reading of the American letters and carefully turned over the last sheet of vellum in his hands. Raising his eyes, he glanced round the hushed pavilion, and saw that Commodore Perry had become as stiffly immobile on his seat as the two imperial princes opposite him. His jaw jutted pugnaciously above his uniform’s high collar and he stared stonily ahead, clutching the hilt of his sword with one hand as he listened to the missionary’s rendering in English of the last few lines of his own letter addressed to the Emperor of Japan.
‘Our admiral further states: “American commerce with all this region of the globe is rapidly increasing and the Japan seas will soon be covered with our vessels,” said Armstrong, enunciating his words slowly and clearly. “With the aid of our steamships we can reach. Japan in eighteen or twenty days. Therefore, as the United States and Japan are becoming every day nearer and nearer to each other, the President desires to live in peace and friendship with Your Imperial Majesty - but, as it has already been pointed out, no friendship can long exist unless Japan ceases to act towards Americans as if they were her enemies. However wise this policy may originally have been, it is unwise and impracticable now that contact between the two countries is so much more e
asy and rapid than before.”
Armstrong paused and waited while Haniwara Tokuma, working from a Dutch text, provided a nervy rendition into Japanese. His delivery had become increasingly staccato and unsteady, and Armstrong noticed that, in between the passages of translation, he had begun to glance up repeatedly towards the pavilion entrance. The chanting which had broken out in the distance had now died away but, while it lasted, it had heightened the atmosphere of tension within the pavilion. As a result, in the intervals of silence between the translations, the expressions of Japanese and Americans alike remained alert and watchful, suggesting that they were listening for further unusual sounds from outside.
‘The admiral concludes his letter with great clarity,’ continued Armstrong, glancing down at the parchment once more. ‘1-le says: “In my capacity as commander-in-chief of the United States naval forces in the East India, China and Japan seas, I set out these arguments in the hope that the Japanese government will see the necessity of averting an unfriendly collision between our two nations. To do this, they need only respond favourably to the propositions of amity which are now made in all sincerity Many of the large ships-of-war destined to visit Japan have not yet arrived in these seas. As evidence of our friendly intentions we have brought but four smaller ships, designing, should it become necessary, to return to Yedo in the spring with a much larger force. But it is expected that the government of Your Imperial Majesty will render such a return unnecessary, by acceding at once to the very reasonable and pacific overtures contained in the President’s letter. . . With the most profound respect for Your Imperial Majesty; and entertaining a sincere hope that you may long live to enjoy health and happiness, the undersigned sub scribes himself Matthew Calbraith Perry:”
