SI3 The Way of the Traitor (1997)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  oYes. Of course. Well. Governor Nagai acknowledged the ploy by sucking his lips. oI shall be happy to lend you and your retainer a fine mansion, servants, and horses.

  This concession was a good sign, even if it wasn't what Sano really wanted. oThank you, Nagai-san. The servant brought tea and cakes, which he accepted, tasted, and praised according to polite convention. oThese cakes have a unique and delicious tang. He suppressed a smile as he saw Hirata, seasickness gone now, eating hungrily for the first time in days. oWhat is the seasoning?

  oMace and cinnamon, Governor Nagai answered between bites, ofrom the Indonesian Spice Islands. Here in Nagasaki, foreign traders bring us all the flavors of the world.

  This was the opening Sano needed. oPerhaps I should begin my inspection with an assessment of the current state of foreign commerce. Starting with the Dutch trade. If he must carry out the charade, he would at least realize his dream of seeing the barbarians.

  oYes. Well. Governor Nagai smiled and sipped his tea. oI'm afraid that the current state of Dutch-Japanese relations is hardly typical. He looked out the window. Down the hill, troops filed through the streets, still searching. oIf you inspect Deshima now, you'll carry an inaccurate report back to Edo "and Chamberlain Yanagisawa.

  Was the governor asking Sano not to criticize his administration, or implying that Chamberlain Yanagisawa would back his refusal? Whatever his reason for invoking the chamberlain's authority, Sano couldn't afford to yield. His status in Nagasaki was ambiguous enough that losing this power play would establish him as the governor's inferior, rather than approximate equal.

  oI'll help restore conditions to normal so that my inspection of the Dutch trade may proceed, he said.

  A speculative gleam lit Nagai's eyes. oAre you offering to assume charge of the hunt for Trade Director Spaen? His bland tone didn't quite hide his eagerness. oYes. Well. That's very kind. But you needn't trouble yourself. Still, if you insist...

  Sano saw the trap. By taking over the investigation, he would relieve Governor Nagai of an onerous burden "and play right into Chamberlain Yanagisawa's hands. Failure to locate the Dutch barbarian would mean his death. But if he refused the task, he might spend the next six months accomplishing nothing of value, growing increasingly bitter toward the bakufu, missing Aoi, and worrying about his future.

  oI insist, Sano said.

  Governor Nagai relaxed with an audible sigh. A reckless exhilaration filled Sano. Now he would be doing real work, pursuing truth, if not justice, and following the Way of the Warrior as he perceived it. He would see the barbarians. And success could bring a political bonus as well as personal satisfaction: owing him a favor, Governor Nagai might agree to ignore Chamberlain Yanagisawa's orders. Sano glanced at Hirata, whose mouth dropped: From what he'd seen and heard today, he guessed the danger Sano courted.

  oHirata-san, I won't be needing you for this investigation, Sano said. To shield his retainer from the consequences of possible failure, he must keep Hirata at a distance from this dangerous task. If his actions caused his own ruin, then so be it; but he would not "could not "endure the pain of harming his faithful companion. oWhen we leave here, see the baggage safely to our lodgings. Then you may amuse yourself in town.

  oAmuse myself, Hirata echoed, not quite managing to conceal his hurt at the dismissal, or his fear for Sano.

  oGovernor Nagai, I would appreciate any details you can give me about the barbarian's disappearance, Sano said. oWhen was it noticed, and by whom?

  The governor offered more tea and cakes, eager to cooperate now. oJust after daybreak, during a routine inspection by Chief Ohira and the guards.

  oHow many other Dutchmen are on Deshima? Has anyone asked them where Trade Director Jan Spaen might have gone, or why? As Sano stumbled over the strange name, his pulse quickened in anticipation of encountering much more that was unfamiliar.

  oThere are presently six barbarians in Japan, who came two years ago and have stayed to protect the goods in their warehouse and pay homage to the shogun and bakufu officials. However, three of them are away visiting various daimyo. The Deshima guards have questioned the other two. They claim ignorance regarding their superiors whereabouts, but may be lying to protect him. To induce cooperation, I've ordered them confined to their quarters without food or water.

  Governor Nagai was a strong administrator, not afraid to act quickly and decisively, Sano thought. The prompt search effort also attested to that. And, unlike many bureaucrats, he displayed ready knowledge about his domain.

  oYour efforts are commendable, Sano said. oI'll go to Deshima and see if the Dutch will talk, while the troops continue their search. Is there an interpreter who can assist me? He spoke no Dutch, and knew that the barbarians were kept ignorant of the Japanese language so as to discourage relations with citizens.

  oYes. Well. Certainly, Governor Nagai said. oBut first, you and your retainer must take the oath that is required of everyone who has contact with foreigners.

  He clapped his hands and gave orders to the servant who appeared. The servant fetched two officials and a tray bearing two scrolls, a roll of discolored cloth, a dish of ink, and a long, sharp needle. The officials knelt on either side of Governor Nagai, while the servant laid the scrolls open before Sano and Hirata, setting the tray between them.

  oWith myself and my aides as witnesses, you will read the scroll aloud, Nagai told Sano.

  oI hereby promise to deny foreigners all communication, service, or friendship that could conceivably promote foreign interests over those of Japan, Sano read. oI also promise never to practice the Christian religion. If I fail to uphold these promises, may the gods, the bakufu, and His Excellency the shogun wreak their vengeance upon myself, my family, and all my associates.

  oTrample the Christian icon, Governor Nagai instructed.

  The servant spread the cloth on the floor: a portrait of a long-haired, bearded barbarian with a circular golden aura around his head. Sano stood and trod on the image, over the scuffs and cracks that already marred its surface.

  oNow sign the scroll, if you please.

  Sano knelt. From the pouch at his waist he took his personal seal, which he inked then pressed against the scroll. He picked up the needle and plunged it into his finger. The pain underscored the oath's gravity. The drop of blood he squeezed onto the scroll represented the blood that would flow if he broke his oath.

  Just as Hirata finished taking his turn, a guard burst into the room. oHonorable Governor, he blurted, falling to his knees and bowing. oPlease forgive this interruption, but a Dutch ship has been sighted approaching the harbor!

  oYes. How inconvenient. Well. Governor Nagai turned to Sano. oThe Dutch cannot land now. All the security forces are busy searching for Director Spaen; there's no one left to escort the ship. It would be dangerous to let a horde of barbarians enter Japanese territory unsupervised; the law forbids it. You must immediately tell the captain to wait outside the harbor until Spaen is found.

  Sano guessed from Nagai's suddenly sharp gaze that this wouldn't be an easy task. A kernel of fear took root in his chest. What had curiosity and the desire for personal fulfillment gotten him into?

  But it was too late to reconsider his decision. He'd committed himself, and duty called.

  oMy personal barge will take you to the Dutch ship, Governor Nagai said, hearty in his relief at no longer being responsible for matters concerning the missing Dutchman. oChief Interpreter Iishino will translate for you. After telling the guard to convey the orders, he smiled at Sano. oI wish you good luck, ssakan-sama.

  Chapter 3

  SANO GRIPPED THE railing of Governor Nagai's barge as twenty oarsmen propelled him up the harbor channel toward the yet unseen Dutch ship. During the journey from Edo, he hadn't been seasick once. Now his stomach churned, and he felt cold despite the hot sun that blazed down on him. The sight of the tossing waves and passing cliffs made him dizzy while he prayed for courage.

  Like most of his fellow Japanese, he had no experi
ence of the outside world. He instinctively distrusted and feared foreigners "especially the white barbarians, subject of much hearsay: The Dutch were monstrous giants who stank of the cows milk they drank; they had huge, round eyes like a dog's, and wore high-heeled shoes because the backs of their doglike feet didn't touch the ground; they worshipped wealth, and would kill for it. None of this had bothered Sano when he'd imagined interrogating a mere two Dutchmen on Deshima, but soon he must face hundreds aboard a merchant ship, with only a small squadron of guards as backup.

  oSsakan-sama, ssakan-sama! Chief Interpreter Iishino hurried up to him. oWhy don't you sit in the cabin? It's more comfortable in there, much more comfortable.

  oI want fresh air, Sano said, fighting nausea.

  oBut the sun, the sun will make you too hot.

  Interpreter Iishino was near Sano's own age of thirty-one. He had a large head on a scrawny body, his face tapering from a broad brow to a pointed chin. Wide-open eyes gave him a perpetually alert expression, and he wore an ingratiating smile full of big, healthy teeth. Yet his most prominent feature was his restlessness. When he moved, as he did now, seeking a cool place for Sano to stand, he bustled. After he'd ushered Sano into the shadow of the barge's cabin, his sandaled feet tapped the deck; his fingers fiddled with his swords and drummed the cabin wall. Sano could almost hear a buzz of nervous energy coming from Iishino. Now he desperately missed Hirata's calming presence.

  oThere, isn't this better? Interpreter Iishino smiled into Sano's face, anxiously seeking approval.

  oYes, thank you, Sano said. Ashamed of his irritation, and even more irritated with Iishino for shaming him, he resigned himself to the interpreter's company. Perhaps Iishino could supplement his knowledge of the Dutch.

  From the old scrolls, he knew they came from a small European nation located on marshy lowlands whose barrenness drove them to sea in search of food and supplies. For generations they'd traded with France, Germany, Norway, Poland, the Mediterranean, and the Ottoman Empire, but they hadn't stopped with the western hemisphere. Merchants had formed the United East India Company, a private concern that held a monopoly on the lucrative spice trade. During the eighty-some years of its existence, the company had made a fortune by selling nutmeg and mace from the Banda Islands, pepper from Java and Sumatra, cinnamon from Ceylon, cloves from the Moluccas. The company maintained a permanent force of twelve thousand men in the East Indies and sent twenty ships there each year. Eighty-nine years ago, the merchants had reached Japan. Because they'd consented to trade without trying to spread Christianity, they'd supplanted the Portuguese. Now they were the only white barbarians allowed in the country.

  Sano knew these bare facts, but needed to learn more in a hurry. oInterpreter Iishino, tell me about Dutch customs, he said. oHow does one address them?

  Iishino beamed, fairly hopping in his pleasure at having his advice sought. oThe barbarians are very different from Japanese, very different. The merchants fight wars, like samurai. But they are misers with no dignity. Excuse me, ssakan-sama, but you're standing in the sun again. Please, get back in the shade.

  Sano had moved to get away from Iishino's jittering. He disliked the way the interpreter bossed him around. His annoyance must have shown, because Iishino said reproachfully, oI'm only trying to help.

  oAll right. Thank you. Sano hid his exasperation. oNow about the Dutch...

  Iishino's smile returned. oCall them by their titles and their last names, which are their family names. They hate formality, and it's funny to watch them get impatient during ceremonies. He laughed, a loud, braying hoot. oThey're very coarse and inferior. But when they're in our country, they must follow our customs. It's the law.

  The Dutch barbarians sounded utterly alien. As the barge navigated around Takayama and several other islands, Sano's trepidation increased.

  oIf you'll permit me to speak frankly, ssakan-sama, I'm sure you're very competent. But since you have no experience with barbarians, it would be foolish for you to handle the Dutch in a grave situation like this. And I've heard "

  Iishino jittered closer to Sano. oI've heard that you've displeased Chamberlain Yanagisawa, which shows a lack of the diplomacy one needs in foreign relations. When we reach the ship, let me handle things. You talk, and I'll pretend to translate what you say, so you don't lose face. Oh, and you really should stand here in the shade, where it's comfortable, more comfortable.

  oI'll stand where I choose, if you don't mind, Sano snapped. He was astounded by the pushy Iishino's tactless insults. As chief interpreter, Iishino would have many junior interpreters working under him. In addition to his salary, he would collect translation fees from both Dutch and Japanese merchants. How had such an obnoxious man gotten such a coveted position?

  oTell me something, Sano said. oWas your father chief interpreter before you?

  oWhy, yes.

  oI might have guessed. Many posts were hereditary, with less importance attached to ability or character than to lineage.

  Iishino's smile dimmed. oYou're angry, aren't you? I was only "

  oTrying to help. Now Sano felt guilty for rejecting Iishino's solicitude.

  The barge cleared the harbor. Across the waves Sano saw the Dutch ship's tall, curved hull and many sails. Fear solidified in his gut as he realized that he couldn't depend on Iishino for anything except translation. The interpreter's offensive personality and derogatory attitude toward the Dutch made him the least suitable bearer of bad news. Sano would have to rely on his own judgment.

  oWhen we reach the ship, you'll translate exactly what I say, he ordered with more confidence than he felt.

  The Dutch ship loomed upon them like a majestic, mobile castle, dwarfing the barge. The uppermost deck crowned two interior levels. Three main masts and a long, canted bowsprit supported a complex web of rigging. Flaring quadrangular sails bellied with the wind. Atop the masts fluttered colorful flags: the yellow Dutch state flag, emblazoned with a rampant red beast holding a curved broadsword and a fistful of arrows; the United East India Company's standard, striped horizontally in red, white, and blue, bearing a circle and a semicircle with an arrow-shaped mark superimposed. An upward-curving extension protruded from the bow, framed in ornate railings and culminating in the figure of a snarling lion. In this stood three barbarians. Others hurried about the deck or climbed the rigging. Shouts carried across the water: The Dutch had sighted the barge. Anticipation nearly overcame Sano's fear.

  oTell them to stop, he instructed Iishino.

  The interpreter yelled something Sano hoped was his command in Dutch. Then the sails let out and began to flap. Sano told his oarsmen to position the barge beside the ship's head. He stared at the men who stood there. All had hair that fell past their shoulders "not gold, as Sano had expected, but still shockingly fair. The center man had red locks that glowed like fire in the sunlight. The open neckline of his white upper garment revealed matching hair on his chest, like an animal's pelt. The others had brown hair and wore long black cloaks and wide-brimmed black hats.

  When these barbarians raised hands in greeting, Sano bowed. oIishino. Introduce me, and say that I welcome them to Japan, he said, speaking loudly so the Dutch would know he was in charge. He gazed in awe at their faces, which were not actually white, but ruddy pink, as though the blood flowed beneath transparent, tanned skin. But all had the round, pale eyes Sano had expected, and the biggest noses he'd ever seen. oTell them to drop anchor.

  Iishino loosed phrases of guttural gibberish. His linguistic skills obviously compensated for his personality, because the red-haired barbarian replied promptly in syllables that sounded much like Iishino's. The others chimed in. Although they seemed to Sano like members of another species, he could tell by their shaking heads that they were puzzled.

  oThe one in white is Captain Pieter Oss, and the others are East India Company officials, Iishino said. oThey want to know why you ask them to stop here, instead of at Takayama, where they usually moor.

  Sano's neck was
getting stiff from looking up, and whatever the differences between Dutch and Japanese cultures, he suspected that they shared one similarity: The man who stood below lost the advantage to the man above.

  oCaptain Oss, he called, pronouncing the name as best he could. He was glad for the barbarians' distinctive costumes and hair color, for their facial features looked identical to him. oI request permission to come aboard.

  Iishino gasped. oSsakan-sama, you can't. The barbarians are dangerous, very dangerous. Just tell the captain that if he doesn't obey, we'll sink his ship.

  Sano saw no reason for hostility, and with the harbor security forces out searching for Director Spaen, any threat of military aggression would be an empty one. Also, though he feared the barbarians, the ship exerted a powerful attraction on him. Once Japanese had traveled the world. Embassies had ventured to Rome and Spain to foster trade and learn about the West. Monks made pilgrimages to Russia, India, Persia, Portugal, and Jerusalem. Traders settled in China, Tonkin, and the New World. Mercenaries fought in Malaysia, the Philippines, and Indonesia; exiles were sent to Cambodia. But fifty-five years ago, the bakufu, fearing that its citizens would ally with foreigners, had forbidden them to go abroad. As a boy, Sano had yearned to sail the seas, while knowing he never could. Now, seeing the Dutch ship revived his youthful dreams and increased his resentment toward the regime that curtailed his freedom and knowledge.