Tim Severin - Sea Robber

There was a silence, and then Arianz spoke. ‘Maybe we should try stealth. Swim out to the ship in the darkness, up anchor and slip quietly away.’

‘On wings?’ called a voice from the darkness. ‘All our sails are still on the beach, and we’d need a pilot to bring us through the channel, as well as a fair wind.’

The discussion dragged on until the small hours. Nothing was decided except that it would be better to stay out of the Ta-yin’s way.

They awoke to the unwelcome sight of a work party of villagers at the water’s edge. Under the direction of the bushi, they were manhandling three of their larger fishing craft down the beach. Soon a squad of men-at-arms was being rowed out to the ship, and the onlookers could see them clambering aboard.

‘The swine are plundering the ship,’ said Arianz in disgust. Men were moving about the deck, and a short while later it was evident they were lowering various packages and a number of kegs down into the fishing boats that headed for the shore.

‘They’re stealing all our gunpowder, the bastards,’ added the quartermaster. ‘I hope it’s too strong for those matchlocks and they blow up in their faces.’

‘I’ve been trying to recall where I saw their emblem before. Now I remember,’ Stolck said unexpectedly. Those closest to him fell silent.

‘It was when I was working in the VOC’s factory in Ke-cho. We received an occasional shipment from Japan. Some boxes had seals with that cross in the circle. The same mark was painted into the glaze of those big jars they used for packing high-value goods. Am I right?’

He looked across at Panu. The interpreter had earlier arrived from the direction of the Ta-yin’s encampment.

‘The cross in circle is the mon, the emblem of the Shimazu clan,’ said Panu softly through Arianz. ‘They are overlords of this island and many more, all the way to their homeland in the north, Satsuma.’

At last Hector understood. The Nicholas had blundered on to an island lying somewhere between Japan and Formosa. The area was notorious for reefs and shoals and was generally avoided. It was unlikely to be on any chart.

‘How far away is Satsuma?’ he asked.

At least a week’s sailing with a good wind. The Shimazu forbid outsiders to come to their islands. The people here are their bond servants.’

‘Slaves, more like,’ grunted Jezreel.

‘The Ta-yin follows his own people’s code,’ said the interpreter carefully. ‘He knows no other way. He is bound by honour and a sense of duty.’

‘Enough talk of honour,’ snapped Eaton. ‘I don’t care whether that cold-blooded savage wishes to talk to me or not. Let’s go find out what he intends to do with us.’

THE TA-YIN’S own pavilion was easily identified. Two men-at-arms stood guard in front of it with long pikes. They wore bowl-shaped metal helmets in addition to the now familiar scale armour. Each helmet 7had a small visor jutting out to protect the eyes, and a long, thickly padded flap hanging down the back of the neck.

Panu had warned the men from the Nicholas to stay well back. Led by Eaton and Arianz, they came to a ragged halt some fifteen paces away from the guards.

‘My dad brought home a lobster hat like that after his time in Cromwell’s cavalry,’ remarked one of the sailors. His companion nudged him to be silent. The front of the tent had been pulled aside, and the Ta-yin emerged.

He was wearing the same loose black silk trousers as the day before, and a sleeveless jacket of dark-brown silk. The shoulders of the jacket were so exaggerated they extended well beyond the body. Silver thread picked out the circular mon of the Shimazu on his breast. The Ta-yin’s face was again powdered white, but this time his queue of jet-black hair had been oiled, twisted tight and brought up over the crown of his head, then doubled back again. This cockscomb was topped by a round cap of black gauze held in place by a white tape under his chin. He was unarmed, and the handle of a fan protruded from his sash.

An attendant ran forward with a folding stool even as Panu dropped into a humble crouch. The Ta-yin sat, placed his hands on his spread knees, straightened his back and threw out his chest so that, without lifting his chin, his gaze took in the assembled crew. They stood, curious and apprehensive and uncertain what to do. For a full minute the Ta-yin said nothing. His eyes glittered with disdain. When he spoke, his voice came from deep within his chest.

‘The Ta-yin says . . .’ translated Panu. He shifted his crouching position so that his voice could be heard more clearly by Stolck, who relayed his words into English so that all could hear. ‘The Ta-yin says that if he had his way, he would behead all of you forthwith. But he is obliged to consult his superiors and await their instructions.’

‘We came here in good faith . . .’ began Eaton. The Ta-yin turned on him a look of such ferocity that the captain’s voice trailed away.

The Ta-yin was speaking again, and Panu and Stolck were gabbling as they tried to keep up with his words. ‘In the Ta-yin’s opinion, you are like mongrel dogs who trespass, then lift their legs and piss to mark their territory.’

Eaton coloured with annoyance. ‘Tell him we came here by chance, and wish to leave quietly and without trouble.’

Panu muttered his translation, and the Ta-yin’s response was curt. ‘What is the true intention of your voyage?’

‘We are merchants seeking new markets.’ The captain was glib with the falsehood.

‘You lie. My men have searched your ship and found no trade goods. Only weapons.’ The Ta-yin gestured towards various items lying at the feet of his guard commander. The bushi picked up a musket and brought it forward. It was a flintlock from the Nicholas .

‘Such guns as these are much sought after,’ explained Eaton. If he hoped to placate the Ta-yin with an offer to sell him arms, he was promptly disappointed.

‘We have no need of guns.’

‘They are of modern design, very efficient.’ Eaton had adopted a huckster’s wheedling tone.

From close to the ground, Panu hissed, ‘The Shimazu manufacture their own guns, copies from long ago. Please don’t insult them.’

The bushi brought forward a canvas bag and a wooden tube. Uneasily Hector recognized the knapsack in which he kept his navigator’s equipment. The Shimazu had ransacked his berth. The bushi opened the tube, slid out the precious chart and unrolled it for the Ta-yin’s inspection.

‘This is forbidden.’

The bushi meticulously ripped the chart to shreds.

Next, he produced from the knapsack Hector’s backstaff. He turned it over in his hand, uncertain which way up to hold it. Hector felt he should intervene.

Stepping forward, he took the backstaff and then walked a couple of paces towards the stony-faced Ta-yin. Immediately the two men-at-arms lowered the points of their pikes to aim at his chest. Hector came to an abrupt halt.

‘This instrument is used for reading the sky,’ he began, then slid the vanes back and forth to demonstrate their action.

The Ta-yin’s angry interruption cut across his explanation.

‘Please step back,’ Panu begged, still crouching on the ground. ‘The great man says you stink.’

Hector was aware how unwashed and filthy he was compared to the immaculate grandee in front of him. Awkwardly he retreated. The bushi retrieved the instrument and, without waiting for instruction from his master, proceeded to smash the backstaff to splinters.

Next from the knapsack came the almanac. Hector felt a twinge of anxiety. He could make himself a replacement back-staff. But without the almanac and its tables, he would be reduced to using the North Star to establish his vessel’s latitude. The Ta-yin had opened the almanac and was idly turning the pages.