1636: Seas of Fortune (37 page)

The
naginata
was the only weapon that was traditionally taught to samurai women, and its length allowed them to compensate for the greater reach of a man. If she married, it would be hung over, or beside, the door to her bedchamber, as her final defense.

Actually, not quite her only weapon, or her final defense. She also had a
kaiken
, a dagger. It could be used for close-quarter fighting . . . or to take her own life. Just as a samurai man was taught how to perform
seppuku
, a painful disembowelment, so he could demonstrate his fortitude, a samurai woman had to know the art of
jigai
, a quick cut to the jugular that would preserve her beauty and dignity.

Chiyo pulled off the leather sheath and handed it to the maid. She handed a chalk to the maid. “Mark off my practice space,” she commanded. While Mika bent down and carefully drew a large circle, Chiyo did some stretches.

When the maid was done, she stepped out of the chalked circle. Chiyo raised her voice. “Let none enter the circle without warning, on pain of death.” Even the practice weapon could kill.

The second stage of her warm-up were the
happo buri
, the “eight-direction swings” with the
naginata
. After a few minutes of this, she began her
kata
, the standard attacks and parries. Several of her father’s retainers stopped what they were doing to watch her. The crew did, too, but more surreptitiously, lest they be beaten or whipped by the officers.

The only Japanese Christians allowed on this vessel, it being a warship, was a small number of single women. They were watching, too.

Her brother Munesane stopped by. He was Data Masamune’s sixth son; she, his third-eldest daughter; her mother was one of his concubines.

“Need a sparring partner, Sister?”

“That would be most appreciated.”

Munesane told his aide Rusu Nobuyasu to bring up a
bokken
, a wood practice sword having the same size and shape as the samurai longsword, the katana
.
There was a long list of
kata
for the duel between katana
and
naginashi
.

Chiyo repeated the same series of practice forms, this time with Munesane executing the standard countermoves. They had learned from the same sensei, so they knew the same
uchi-kata
and
uke-kata
, offensive and defensive forms.

When they had completed the usual series, Munesane grinned at her and said, “care for some free sparring?” He preened a little bit for the benefit of the watching female
kirishitan
.

“Mika, fetch my practice armor.” Mika brought back Chiyo’s head, chest, waist, glove and shin protectors, which Chiyo donned.

“Where’s your armor?” she asked her brother.

“Don’t need it.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” He grudgingly sent his aide to get his own set, and put it on.

“Shall we make a small wager on this
shiai
?” asked Chiyo.

“What did you have in mind?”

“If I win, you teach me archery.”

“Archery? How many women archers do you know?”

“None, personally. But what of Tomoe Gozen, or Hangaku Gozen?”

“They lived centuries ago.”

“Well, the whole point of women learning the
naginata
is to fight men at a distance. So wouldn’t bow and arrow let us kill enemies even farther away? One mistake with the
naginata
, and they could close with us. We have to drop the
naginata
, and rely on the
kaiken
. Which is a close-quarters weapon. It makes no sense.”

“Sensei would say, ‘So don’t make a mistake.’ But all right. If Father doesn’t forbid it. Remember, all I can teach you on shipboard is the hold and the draw. There isn’t room for an archery range, even on this monster of a ship.

“And, let me see, what should your part of the wager be? I know—you must personally embroider a kimono for me. With a design of my choosing.” He knew that Chiyo
hated
embroidering anything. “Still want that wager, Chyio-chan?”

“Yes!”

They both bowed, and then began circling each other. Occasionally, one or the other would attack, but these were mere testing moves, without full commitment, and each was sidestepped or parried. Gradually, the attacks increased in frequency and intensity. Victory would go to whoever had come closest to mastering the principles of Budo: distance, awareness, balance and focus.

“I am going to become a Christian,” she commented.

He parried her attack anyway, and gave her a quick grin. “I always thought you were a Christian sympathizer.”

They exchanged a few more blows.

“Will they still baptize me if I’m pregnant?”

He jerked involuntarily.

“Hiai!”
She struck him in the shin, and he tottered. Her next blow took him down.

She looked down at him. “So when’s my first archery lesson?”

He looked back up at her. “You aren’t really pregnant, are you? Because if you are—”

“I didn’t say I was. I simply asked a question. And you made a completely unwarranted assumption. I would be offended, but of course you have already prostrated yourself before me, and so I must accept your apology.”

Near Vancouver Island

The sky had been overcast for a week. Worse,
Ieyasu Maru
now had to inch its way through a fog bank, its leadsman calling out the depths every few minutes. Fortunately, they were clearly still in deep water, but Haruno had no desire to be wrecked in the middle of nowhere. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Suddenly, the ship emerged into full sunlight, its crew blinking their eyes in reaction. As they continued heading east, by the compass, they became aware of changes in their environment. The water had changed color, becoming greener. And they were seeing birds they had never seen before.

Haruno and Tokubei conferred. Could they be nearing the North American coast at long last? Haruno announced a prize for whoever spotted land first.

Before long, land was indeed sighted. At least, there was a long smudge, which the lookout insisted must be the mainland, ahead of them in the east. But more importantly, there appeared to be an island perhaps ten miles away, off the starboard bow.

The wind remained steady, coming from west-northwest. As they continued on their course, the island rose above the horizon. The scenery ahead, however, didn’t change noticeably; if there was land in that direction, it was still very far away.

At noon, both Haruno and Tokubei shot the sun. It appeared that they were farther north than they had intended to be, perhaps fifty-one degrees north. If so, then instead of striking the middle of Vancouver Island, they were north of it, in Queen Charlotte Sound. And that suggested that the island they had spotted was one of a small chain of islands, northwest of and leading toward Vancouver Island, that had gone unnamed on their map of British Columbia.

They decided to make for the island, and then use the chain as a guideline. Their map had only shown two islands, but in fact there were five. As they passed to the south of the last little island, they could clearly see Vancouver Island, stretching southeast as far as they could see. Their map referred to the near tip as Cape Scott; they could see that this was one end of a short north-south ridge. This ridge was connected to the rest of Vancouver Island by a rather low-lying isthmus.

Their first destination was Quatsino Sound. The Japanese, when they seized the Portuguese “Japan Fleet” in Nagasaki Harbor, had found a Portuguese copy of the up-time
Hammond Citation World Atlas
. If the captured copy was correct, there was an iron deposit somewhere on the south shore of the inlet.

The
kirishitan
on board the
Ieyasu Maru
came from many places in Japan, but they had one thing in common: prospecting or mining experience. The
Ieyasu Maru
even had on board a mining engineer, Iwakashu. And iron was an ore that was in short supply in Nippon.

But they were not fated to reach the Quatsino Sound that day.

“Captain, a wreck!” yelled a crewman. “And it looks like a junk!” He was pointed to the isthmus; the wreck was lying amid sand dunes. The mast was missing, but the ship had a distinctive hull shape that was decidedly non-European.

There was a mass movement to the starboard rail. No one could see any people, Japanese or native, besides the wreckage or nearby.

Of course, if there were Japanese survivors, they might have reason to be wary. From a distance, the
Ieyasu Maru
looked like a Dutch ship. That was no accident; it was nearly a copy of the 120 ton
Good Fortune
that William Adams had built for then-Shogun Ieyasu in 1610. The
Good Fortune
, in turn, was a slightly scaled-down version of
Der Liefde
, the ship in which Adams had come to Japan. The
Good Fortune
itself no longer existed; it had been loaned to the shipwrecked ex-governor of the Philippines, Rodrigo de Vivero y Velasco, to return him to New Spain, and the viceroy of New Spain had ordered its destruction. Probably muttering something to the effect that the Japanese ought to stay on their own side of the Pacific.

The only concession the builders of the
Ieyasu Maru
had made to Japanese maritime traditions was that the hull, like that of a junk, was divided into many watertight compartments. This was less convenient for stowing bulky cargo, but handy for surviving a holing. Not that this sturdy construction had saved the unfortunate junk that lay before them.

The
Ieyasu Maru
eased its way closer to the isthmus, and then lowered a launch. Tokubei was ready to get in, when Hosoya Yoritaki stopped him. Yoritaki was commander of the samurai “marines” that the
Ieyasu Maru
was blessed, or cursed, with. “You may go along, but first my men check to make sure it’s safe.”

Tokubei nodded and Yoritaki gestured for three of his samurai to enter. All were armed with handguns. One, after noting the openness of the land, took a
naginata
along, too. All had swords, too, but that was a given. You might as well note that they were wearing clothing, too. Once the samurai were settled, Tokubei leaped in, and the launch made its way toward the wreckage.

The samurai disembarked first. Oyamada Isamu, shouldering the
naginata
, took up a sentry position, facing inland, while the other two circled the wreckage. Satisfied that it was free of threat, they climbed to the top of Cape Scott. They looked around, and then one came back downhill.

“No one in the immediate area, but there are native villages to the east and south. Haru will fire if he sees a threat.”

“Thank you, Masaru-san,” said Tokubei. “Please join Isamu-san on guard.”

Tokubei and his coxswain Kinzo made their way around to where the deck had been. Most of the decking was gone, so they had a clear view into the interior of the ship.

Tokubei made a few interesting observations. First, there were no skeletons. That told him that there must have been survivors, and that either at sea or after landing, they had disposed of the bodies of any less fortunate crewmen.

Second, there was nothing of value left on board. Either it had all been consumed during the voyage, or, more likely, the survivors had taken everything. That implied that they had been in reasonable health.

Third, the wreck was Japanese, beyond question. Every surviving aspect of its construction was typical of a large cargo ship of traditional Japanese design.

Finally, there was no seaweed on the underwater part of the hull. Clearly, it had been out of the water long enough for the seaweed to die and rot away. That suggested that the wreck had been here for a long time, and thus could not be one of the ships of the First Fleet. And that was a relief.

Tokubei and Kinzo collected a few small items, to show to Captain Haruno, and strode back to the launch. They waved Isamu down, and then Masaru and Haru cautiously retreated to the launch. A couple of crewmen pushed the boat back into the surf and then jumped in. Once he was on the deck of the
Ieyasu Maru
, Tokubei made his report.

“These sailors were clearly Nihonjin,” Tokubei told Haruno, “we must find them if we can.”

“Man the guns,” Captain Haruno ordered. “Archers and arquebus-men, to the rails. Prepare to repel boarders.” Even the miners grabbed spears. “But not one shot unless and until I give the command, or I’ll feed you to the sharks!”

* * *

Haruno was worried about those the native villages. According to the Dutch—who in turn drew on unnamed up-time sources—the Indians of the Pacific Northwest built seagoing canoes that could hold more than sixty people, took slaves, and, some of them—the Tlingit farther north, at least—had wooden armor. All of which suggested that the crewmen of the
Ieyasu Maru
weren’t going to be greeted by lithe Indian maidens gaily tossing chrysanthemum petals.

Because of the importance of the
Ieyasu Maru
’s mission, there were more than a dozen samurai on board. Until a few months ago, they had been ronin, masterless warriors, but they were accepted into the service of Date Masumune, grand governor of New Nippon. All were unmarried men who had chafed at the peacetime restrictions, and were happy to be offered the opportunity to fight, even in a faraway land.

They were less happy to be under Haruno and Tokubei’s command, but they would follow Date Masamune’s orders to obey them. At least, Tokubei hoped so.

“So, which of the villages do we check out first?” asked Haruno.

“The one on the west coast,” Tokubei answered. “If it’s the right one, then it won’t take us out of the way.”

Before long, a lookout shouted, “Houses. I see houses.”

Tokubei had a Dutch telescope, one of the few in Japan, and he was studying the beach in front of the village. “Lot of commotion down there . . .

“Looks like someone is coming out of the biggest house, wearing some kind of fancy costume. He’s dancing now. At least I hope he’s dancing and not having a fit of some kind.

“Okay, he’s gone down to one of the canoes. Kwannon have mercy upon us, it’s big. Lots of paddlers getting in behind Dancing Man. Okay, they’re rowing out to us.”