The Chrysanthemum, the Cross, and the Dragon

by Iver P. Cooper

  The defenses of the Baluarte de San Diego thus looked outward, toward the bay and the land. Not inward toward the city. Hence, while its gate was locked at night, there was no gate guard, only a sentinel who walked the entire parapet.

  Norihiro had timed the appearances of that sentinel. During his long training —which had begun as soon as he took his first steps—Norihiro had learned to count at a precise rhythm, no matter how trying the circumstances.

  How convenient, he thought. The guard didn't vary his circuit.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Hattori and eight genin made their way west, in the general direction of the fort, advancing in loose groups of three. They zigged north to avoid Manila Cathedral, where people could come or go at any hour of the night. Unfortunately, when they zagged south they had to pass close to the Baluarte de Santo Domingo, which watched the river, and the Convento de Santa Clara.

  As the lead three approached the convent, one froze. His actions were immediately copied by his companions. A Franciscan "Friar Tuck" was climbing out a window!

  The three waited silently as the monk reached the ground, looked quickly both ways, tucked the front and back of the skirt of his habit in his cincture, and ran down the street. This friar was unknowingly passing through a gauntlet of ninja, who would have killed him at the slightest sign that he had seen them. Fortunately for him, his mind was on other things, whether it was the amorous pleasures he had just enjoyed, or the need for speed in returning to his monastery on the other side of Intramuros.

  For the ninja, the encounter was an unpleasant reminder of the dangers of this street. It was quiet, but if they were spotted, their escape routes were limited.

  Some minutes later, they made it at last to their destination, the powder-house.

  "Roof!" Hattori commanded. The ninja got out their climbing gear and scaled the wall. The roof was the familiar red tile, and they had the tools for cutting it and prying away the pieces. This gave them access into the attic space, and from there they made it, ultimately, into the powder-house proper.

  When Hattori finally found the powder-room inside the powder-house, he had an unpleasant surprise: there were no barrels of powder to be found. And there was no more than a trace of powder in the mortars, to boot. Clearly, the powder-house had only just made a delivery of powder to the fort, probably only the day before.

  The mission was a complete failure. With an expression that could have spoiled sake, Hattori ordered his men back to the entrance hole they had cut. They would have to work their way back across the walled city and, hopefully, reinforce Norihiro, who had been sent to blow up the Baluarte de San Diego with its own powder supply.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "It's time to go," said the remaining genin. The final three-man team had set up booby traps on the main floor of the building lent to the Japanese "embassy" by the governor of Manila, and they strategically applied an incendiary paste to the wooden walls of the upper story. It was similar to the material used in the mizu-taimatsu, the ninja torch which would burn even in the rain. They had also made a pile of the wooden furniture left by their hosts and spilled oil over it and the walls.

  There was a strange contraption which they had left nearby. As they made their way out of the building, sand was trickling down from the small hole at the bottom of a conical container. It fell into a pail, which was attached to one end of a lever. As the sand weighed that end down, the other end, which held a basin filled with a slow-burning material, moved up. A fuse was dangled above the basin.

  The three left, and headed in the direction of the Baluarte de San Diego. They were to join up with Norihiro, if they could, and otherwise cause havoc and confusion in the vicinity of the San Gabriel, well away from the two main ninja targets.

  After an hour, the lever had moved up far enough to light the dangling fuse. The pace quickened after that. The flame sizzled along the fuse and, a few seconds later, reached the incendiary paste. This ignited, as did the oil liberally splattered about the furniture and the walls. Smoke billowed out in the Manila night.

  Eventually, the fire was spotted by a monk of nearby San Agustin. He ran to ring the bells of the church. Fire was not taken lightly in Manila. Half the city had been consumed in April, 1603, and the Parian was nearly destroyed in 1628.

  The three ninja from the embassy heard the commotion with relief. They had tested the triggering device several times earlier that day to make sure it would work as intended. But if it hadn't, they'd have had to double back to set the fire the old-fashioned way.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Thirty miles away, on Corregidor, a Dutch watchman saw the fire. "And there's the signal!" he shouted. "Wake up you sluggards, light the bonfire on the seaward side. It's time for the fleet to move!"

  A few hours later, as soon as there was enough light for navigation, the ships of the main invasion fleet, hidden in Mariveles Bay, lifted anchors, and started to move.

  Chapter 6

  In the Parian, Mingyu awoke slowly from sleep; Cut-Nose was calling her name. "Mistress Huang, there's a fire somewhere in the Intramuros. They are ringing the church bells."

  Even half-asleep, this was enough to cause Mingyu to raise her eyebrows. "A fire, while there's an unprecedented Japanese embassy in Manila, and an equally unprecedented Portuguese visitation at Cavite? Such a series of strange events cannot be a coincidence!

  "We must prepare for possible riots and looting, if not worse. Rouse the staff. Bar the windows and doors. In fact, have the staff move furniture in front of the doors."

  "Are you sure that's wise, mistress?" asked Cut-Nose. "If there's rebellion in the Parian--or the Spanish even think there is--they will come in and kill indiscriminately. Or set fire to the district. We shouldn't block the doors so securely that we can't escape.

  "In fact, I think we should arm ourselves with whatever weapons we can carry hidden and get out of town."

  "To where?" exclaimed Mingyu.

  "To your father's ship," said Cut-Nose. "He is anchored in the great lagoon west of the Tondo. We have a safe house in the Binondo. Since that's the Chinese Christian district, it's unlikely to be the target of reprisals for any disturbance in the Parian. We can slip out now, before the Parian gates close after Compline. And in the morning, we can take a pole-boat the rest of the way, by the canal that runs north of Binondo and Tondo."

  Mingyu considered this suggestion. "No, I need to keep an eye on the Intramuros, Uncle Dragon will expect me to do so."

  Cut-Nose looked at her quizzically. "Is it the Intramuros or a certain Spanish lieutenant that you wish to keep an eye on?"

  Mingyu sighed. "I don't see why the two goals are mutually exclusive."

  "Those aren't perhaps, but I have a goal of my own, to keep you safe, as I promised your father."

  "Make the preparations so we can go to the safe house first thing in the morning."

  "I will start the preparations," said Cut-Nose grudgingly. "But if there's trouble in the Parian this evening, they might not open the gates in the morning."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "It's time," said Yosioka Kuzaemon. He wasn't a ninja himself, but nonetheless he had been given authority over the small contingent of ninja quartered, in the guise of servants, in the Parian. Authority, at least, to tell the ninja when to set out on their mission: to render impassable the nearby bridge, the only one which crossed the Pasig. That way, reinforcements could not easily reach Intramuros from the northern suburbs.

  When this announcement came, the ninja were playing cards, a vice acquired from the Portuguese, or meditating. However, they quickly gathered up their gear. They each wore a dark blue jacket and pants, not too different from those worn by some Chinese peasants, and thus not especially noteworthy in the Parian. The jackets were loose enough that small weapons could be concealed underneath.

  Yosioka Kuzaemon accompanied them to the north gate; he spoke Spanish. Two of the ninja came with him, posing as his servants. The others hung back, out of sight of th
e gate.

  By order of the alcalde mayor of Manila, the gates of the Parian, a walled ghetto for the Chinese, were to be closed and locked from Compline until Lauds. In actual practice, as long as the Parian seemed peaceful, the gate guards happily accepted bribes to open the gate.

  "Por favor, senor," said Kuzaemon. "Tenemos que vamonos." He thrust a bag through the bars and gave it a little shake; it jingled.

  The bag vanished, and the gate swung open.

  "Gracias," said Kuzaemon. "Vaya con Dios."

  The guard gave him a casual wave and turned to shut the gate. As he did so, the ninja pulled out a stout cord with weighted ends. He quickly took hold of both ends, tossed the loop over the guard's head, crossed his arms, and pulled the guard back to him.

  They did not wait for the guard to suffocate; a second ninja thrust a dagger between his ribs.

  They dragged the guard back inside the Parian's walls and threw him into a dark corner.

  Takino, the chunin of this ninja party, made a hand gesture, and the rest of his men came out to join him. Two of them were pulling a small cart containing kegs of a highly flammable material. The kegs were too heavy to be carried.

  "Good thing the deck of the bridge is wood," whispered Takino to Kuazemon. "Stupid on their part, neh?"

  "I think their idea was that they could set the bridge on fire themselves, if the natives to the north were to attack the city," said Kuazemon. "Well, I am going back in to do some rabble-rousing. Hopefully we'll have a nice little riot here tomorrow to further distract the Spanish. Good luck."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Kuzaemon and Takino had selected the north gate because it faced the river, not the Intramuros. The ninja followed the river west toward the bridge, moving as quietly as possible, but the cart, despite well-oiled axles, didn't cooperate. Its wheels made clicking noises as they ran over the cobblestones, and the river helped carry the sound further than it might otherwise.

  The sound attracted the attention of the sentry at the bridge. He quickly blew his signal trumpet.

  Fuck! thought Takino. I should have held back the cart and taken out the sentry first. He made a series of urgent hand signals to his men.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  At the sound of the signal trumpet, the ninja froze, then slowly retreated. Soldiers stumbled from the barracks of San Gabriel to the walls and peered outward, trying to decide whether there was a real attack or just a false alarm. A report was sent to Fort Santiago, and the officers not on duty were roused from sleep.

  The commander finally decided to send out a search party. "Lieutenant Cardona, take ten men, check the gate guards of the Parian and then the bridge. Then return and report."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Leaving the Intramuros, Juan took out his spyglass and studied the bridge and its approaches. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I can see the sentry and no one else," he muttered.

  "False alarm?" his sergeant suggested.

  "Perhaps. Or perhaps the troublemakers slipped back into the Parian. We best check it out."

  Juan led his platoon to the west gate of the Parian and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "To the south gate!" Juan commanded.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  A well-concealed Takino had been watching Juan. As soon as Juan's platoon went out of sight, plainly intending to circle the Parian counter-clockwise, he and his men took their bows and arrow quivers off the cart. He ordered three men to take out the sentry when his walk took him out of sight of the fort. The rest he sent to take up ambush positions by the north gate of the Parian.

  Once the sentry was killed, the tallest of the three ninja put on his clothing and continued his "walk", and the other two went back for the cart. Even more slowly than before, since now they realized how far the sound of the wheels might carry, they wheeled it onto the bridge and then removed buckets of incendiary material.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Juan and his platoon arrived at last at the north gate.

  "Where's the gate guard?" Juan exclaimed. "Sergeant, check the gate!"

  "It's unlocked."

  "Send a runner to the fort, tell them that there's trouble in the Parian, and they should send reinforcements."

  As soon as this was done, Juan ordered, "The rest of you, follow me!"

  Juan and his platoon entered the Parian and found the body of the slain gate guard.

  Juan and his soldiers all drew their weapons and formed a rough semi-circle, facing outward. But there was no immediate attack; indeed, no sound of rioting.

  "The problem must be outside, not inside," said Juan. "Follow me."

  Coming back out the north gate, he raised his spyglass again, and this time saw two men on the bridge, silhouetted against the night sky. They appeared to be carrying buckets and pouring their contents onto the superstructure.

  Juan put away the telescope and lifted his sword. "They are going to fire the Puente Grande! Stop them! Santiago!"

  But before they could run more than a few paces, they were ambushed. The ninja fired their bows, and several of Juan's men fell. And then the ninja countercharged. Juan slashed at one, who jumped to one side at the last moment. As Juan turned to attack him again, a second one swung a shinobi-zue, a four-foot bamboo staff with a six foot chain attached to one end. The chain wrapped around Juan's leg, and the ninja yanked. Juan lost his balance and fell to the ground. The chain-staff wielder reversed the staff and struck his head with the other end.

  Despite wearing a helmet, Juan was knocked unconscious.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "That's that," said Takino with satisfaction, surveying the fallen bodies of the Spanish platoon. "One of you, keep an eye on the gate of the fort; give warning if another patrol sorties. The rest of you, come with me to the bridge."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  While two of the ninja missions had failed, and Takino's was still in play, Norihiro and his men had succeeded in quietly killing the sentries on the walls of the Baluarte de San Diego and then securing its powder-room.

  When Hattori arrived, Norihiro whispered to him, "So, do we hold this bastion until our land force gets here?"

  Hattori shook his head. "It will take too long; the Spanish will overwhelm us. Load an umebi with powder from the fort and bury it lightly just inside of the cityside gate. Overcharge as many cannon as you can and spike the others. Blow up all of the cannon at once."

  "Why not use the powder to mine the landward wall--blow a hole for our army to enter by?"

  "Too much wall, not enough time...."

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  "That's it, Mingyu," shouted Cut-Nose. "You hear that explosion? The city is under attack. We need to leave right now. We'll go to the north gate, since it's closest to the river, and find a boat to steal."

  "Will the guard let us out, with the city in an uproar?"

  "We'll offer a much bigger bribe than usual," said Cut-Nose. "And hope for the best. If that fails, well, I have a grappling rope, and we can try to scale the wall."

  Coming upon the now open north gate, they hesitated.

  "Not that I am complaining about not having to deal with a gate guard," said Mingyu, "but I wonder what this means."

  "We're on the tiger's back now; it's too late to dismount," said Cut-Nose grimly.

  Mingyu, Cut-Nose, and their guards cautiously left the Parian and moved slowly in the direction of the bridge.

  They didn't go far before they found the bodies.

  "Spanish, by the looks of them," said one of the guards.

  Cut-Nose spat. "Well, that tears it. We need to get out of the city before the Spanish find those bodies and start massacring us again."

  The guard was already, thriftily, checking the bodies for loot. "Hey, this one's wearing an officer's uniform. Bet he has something worth keeping...." He turned the body over.

  Mingyu glanced his way, out of curiosity, and fought back a gasp. "It's Juan!"

  "Oh, fuck!" said Cut-Nose. "What bad luck."

  Mingyu glared at him, and with questionable
sincerity, Cut-Nose added, "For him, I mean."

  "He's not dead," said the guard. "Just unconscious."

  "Bring him with us," said Mingyu.

  "Oh, fuck!" Cut-Nose repeated.

  By now, one of the other guards had located a sampan on the riverbank. The occupant had managed, somehow, to sleep through the commotion. A profusion of scattered liquor bottles suggested how he had accomplished this feat.

  Mingyu, Cut-Nose, and the guards, the latter half-dragging, half-carrying Juan, clambered on board. They loosed the mooring rope and started paddling upstream, toward the canal that Cut-Nose had mentioned previously.

  One of the sailors, paddling hard, complained, "and why shouldn't we just let ourselves drift downstream?"

  Just then, the Puente Grande erupted into flame.

  "Forget I said anything," said the complainer.

  Chapter 7

  The Asahi Maru and the three "Portuguese" galetas left Cavite the same night. They left with a bang, firing on and disabling the Spanish ships harbored there. And then they escaped into the darkness before the cannon of Fort Felipe could range on them.

  They sailed north, toward Manila. As soon as they were out of cannon range, the troops emerged from the holds of the galetas and spread out across their decks. The cannon fire would have been heard, so being able to disembark the troops quickly was now more important than keeping their presence secret. But for what it was worth, the troops kneeled with their ankles underneath them, reducing their profile a bit.

  The Japanese land forces were commanded by Abe Masatsugu. He had chosen to sail with the vanguard in the galetas, rather than wait with the main force. Masatsugu was a Tokugawa retainer, over sixty years old, who had fought at the siege of Osaka Castle in 1614 and was now the holder of that castle. As soon as he emerged on deck, he started furiously fanning himself with his tessen, an iron war fan.

  He was followed by a teppo ko gashira, a firearms lieutenant, who was sweating profusely. Japan was cooler than the Philippines, and the confined quality of the ship's hold, crowded with men, had made conditions nigh intolerable.