Shogun - Clavell James - Страница 35
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"Yes, thank you. A bit weak but all right."
"How was your voyage?"
"Rough. About them - the samurai - how do they get to be one? Do they just pick up the two swords and get that haircut?"
"You've got to be born one. Of course, there are all ranks of samurai from daimyos at the top of the muckheap to what we'd call a foot soldier at the bottom. It's hereditary mostly, like with us. In the olden days, so I was told, it was the same as in Europe today - peasants could be soldiers and soldiers peasants, with hereditary knights and nobles up to kings. Some peasant soldiers rose to the highest rank. The Taiko was one."
"Who's he?"
"The Great Despot, the ruler of all Japan, the Great Murderer of all times - I'll tell you about him one day. He died a year ago and now he's burning in hell." Rodrigues spat overboard. "Nowadays you've got to be born samurai to be one. It's all hereditary, Ingeles. Madonna, you've no idea how much store they put on heritage, on family, rank, and the like - you saw how Omi bows to that devil Yabu and they both grovel to old Toady-sama. 'Samurai' comes from a Jappo word meaning 'to serve.' But while they'll all bow and scrape to the man above, they're all samurai equally, with a samurai's special privileges. What's happening aboard?"
"The captain's jabbering away at another samurai and pointing at us. What's special about them?"
"Here samurai rule everything, own everything. They've their own code of honor and sets of rules. Arrogant? Madonna, you've no idea! The lowest of them can legally kill any non-samurai, any man, woman, or child, for any reason or for no reason. They can kill, legally, just to test the edge of their piss-cutting swords - I've seen'em do it and they have the best swords in the world. Better'n Damascus steel. What's that fornicator doing now?"
"Just watching us. His bow's on his back now." Blackthorne shuddered. "I hate those bastards more than Spaniards."
Again Rodrigues laughed as he sculled. "If the truth's known, they curdle my piss too! But if you want to get rich quick you've got to work with them because they own everything. You sure you're all right?"
"Yes. Thanks. You were saying? Samurai own everything?"
"Yes. Whole country's split up into castes, like in India. Samurai at the top, peasants next important." Rodrigues spat overboard. "Only peasants can own land. Understand? But samurai own all the produce. They own all the rice and that's the only important crop, and they give back part to the peasants. Only samurai're allowed to carry arms. For anyone except a samurai to attack a samurai is rebellion, punishable by instant death. And anyone who sees such an attack and doesn't report it at once is equally liable, and so are their wives, and even their kids. The whole family's put to death if one doesn't report it. By the Madonna, they're Satan's whelps, samurai! I've seen kids chopped into mincemeat." Rodrigues hawked and spat. "
Even so, if you know a thing or two this place is heaven on earth." He glanced back at the galley to reassure himself, then he grinned. "Well, Ingeles, nothing like a boat ride around the harbor, eh?"
Blackthorne laughed. The years dropped off him as he reveled in the familiar dip of the waves, the smell of the sea salt, gulls calling and playing overhead, the sense of freedom, the sense of arriving after so very long. "I thought you weren't going to help me get to Erasmus!"
"That's the trouble with all Ingeles. No patience. Listen, here you don't ask Japmen anything - samurai or others, they're all the same. If you do, they'll hesitate, then ask the man above for the decision. Here you have to act. Of course" - his hearty laugh ran across the waves - "sometimes you get killed if you act wrong."
"You scull very well. I was wondering how to use the oars when you came."
"You don't think I'd let you go alone, do you? What's your name?"
"Blackthorne. John Blackthorne."
"Have you ever been north, Ingeles? Into the far north?"
"I was with Kees Veerman in Der Lifle. Eight years ago. It was his second voyage to find the Northeast Passage. Why?"
"I'd like to hear about that - and all the places you've been. Do you think they'll ever find the way? The northern way to Asia, east or west?"
"Yes. You and the Spanish block both southern routes, so we'll have to. Yes, we will. Or the Dutch. Why?"
"And you've piloted the Barbary Coast, eh?"
"Yes. Why?"
"And you know Tripoli?"
"Most pilots have been there. Why?"
"I thought I'd seen you once. Yes, it was Tripoli. You were pointed out to me. The famous Ingeles pilot. Who went with the Dutch explorer, Kees Veerman, into the Ice Seas-and was once a captain with Drake, eh? At the Armada? How old were you then?"
"Twenty-four. What were you doing in Tripoli?"
"I was piloting an Ingeles privateer. My ship'd got taken in the Indies by this pirate, Morrow - Henry Morrow was his name. He burned my ship to the waterline after he'd sacked her and offered me the pilot's job - his man was useless, so he said - you know how it is. He wanted to go from there - we were watering off Hispaniola when he caught us - south along the Main, then back across the Atlantic to try to intercept the annual Spanish gold ship near the Canaries, then on through the Straits to Tripoli if we missed her to try for other prizes, then north again to England. He made the usual offer to free my comrades, give them food and boats in return if I joined them. I said, 'Sure, why not? Providing we don't take any Portuguese shipping and you put me ashore near Lisbon and don't steal my rutters.' We argued back and forth as usual-you know how it is. Then I swore by the Madonna and we both swore on the Cross and that was that. We had a good voyage and some fat Spanish merchantmen fell into our wake. When we were off Lisbon he asked me to stay aboard, gave me the usual message from Good Queen Bess, how she'd pay a princely bounty to any Portuguese pilot who'd join her and teach others the skill at Trinity House, and give five thousand guineas for the ratter of Magellan's Pass, or the Cape of Good Hope." His smile was broad, his teeth white and strong, and his dark mustache and beard well groomed. "I didn't have them. At least that's what I told him. Morrow kept his word, like all pirates should. He put me ashore with my rutters - of course he'd had them copied though he himself couldn't read or write, and he even gave me my share of the prize money. You ever sail with him, Ingeles?"
"No. The Queen knighted him a few years ago. I've never served on one of his ships. I'm glad he was fair with you."
They were nearing Erasmus. Samurai were peering down at them quizzically.
"That was the second time I'd piloted for heretics. The first time I wasn't so lucky."
"Oh?" Rodrigues shipped his oars and the boat swerved neatly to the side and he hung onto the boarding ropes. "Go aloft but leave the talking to me."
Blackthorne began to climb while the other pilot tied the boat safely. Rodrigues was the first on deck. He bowed like a courtier. "Konnichi wa to all sod-eating samas!"
There were four samurai on deck. Blackthorne recognized one of them as a guard of the trapdoor. Nonplussed, they bowed stiffly to the Portuguese. Blackthorne aped him, feeling awkward, and would have preferred to bow correctly.
Rodrigues walked straight for the companionway. The seals were neatly in place. One of the samurai intercepted him.
"Kinjiru, gomen nasai." It's forbidden, so sorry.
"Kinjiru, eh?" the Portuguese said, openly unimpressed. "I'm Rodrigu-san, anjin for Toda Hiro-matsu-sama. This seal," he said, pointing to the red stamp with the odd writing on it, "Toda Hiromatsu-sama, ka?"
"lye," the samurai said, shaking his head. "Kasigi Yabu-sama!"
"IYE?" Rodrigues said. "Kasigi Yabu-sama? I'm from Toda Hiromatsu-sama, who's a bigger king than your bugger and Toady-sama's from Toranaga-sama, who's the biggest bugger-sama in this whole world. Neh?" He ripped the seal off the door, dropped a hand to one of his pistols. The swords were half out of their scabbards and he said quietly to Blackthorne, "Get ready to abandon ship," and to the samurai he said gruffly, "Toranaga-sama!" He pointed with his left hand at the flag which fluttered at his own masthead. "Wakarimasu ka?"
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