Tokyo Bay (27 page)

r
d a new chanted supplication rising from the upper deck and he stared again into the white mists onshore, trying to imagine where Robert Eden might be at that moment. Then, with Eden’s name silently on his lips, he closed his eyes and joined the rest of the crew in prayer where he stood, hal
fw
ay up the rungs of the gangway.

‘THIS MIST IS VERY
eerie, Sentaro. Do you think we are still going in the right direction?’
As he spoke, Robert Eden leaned low over his horse’s neck and peered vainly ahead into the grey- white murk which enclosed the morning all around them. He had tied his hat tight beneath his chin to hide his face, and although there was no other living soul in sight he was still hunching himself unnaturally in the saddle in an effort to disguise the fact that he was more than six feet tall.
‘Yes, master, I’m sure we’re still going the right way.
Sentaro, cantering steadily at his side, also screwed up his eyes to peer ahead; but he could distinguish nothing more than a few stunted trees struggling up from the surface of the desolate, rolling moorland, across which they were riding on a track of black shale. The hoofs of the horses c
ru
nched loudly on the friable, cinder
-
like surface of the rising track which wound gently upward in long zigzags, and even on the moorland to either side, patches of the same black volcanic ash were visible here and there among the tufts of sour grass.
‘We haven’t seen Fuji
-
san since sunset last night,’ said Eden in a subdued voice. ‘It seems to have disappeared without trace.’
Somewhere high above their heads they heard the piping song of a rising lark. The tiny bird, however, remained invisible and no sound other than the passage of their horses could be heard in the strange white stillness. They had ridden hard through the night, and when day dawned under its unrelieved cloak of mist they had first found themselves passing through terraced rice fields where indistinct hatted figures wielding sickles were beginning to harvest the grain. Then they had entered a chain of forests, ducking beneath spreading boughs of
o
ak, larch and pine, as they continued to follow the narrow, rising pat
h
northward. In between these forests they had encountered scattered groups of high-roofed, thatched peasant houses, from which ghostly family groups were emerging into the grey morning gloom. But they had never slackened their pace and had swept past with heads held low, their broad hats always covering their faces.
‘Whenever Sentaro risked stopping to seek directions or buy food for them, Eden had either hung back or ridden on quickly ahead, so as to arouse as little suspicion as possible. On these occasions he had turned to peer round cautiously behind them, checking for signs of pursuit. They had rested their horses regularly and when they rode on, their path had continued to rise steadily over the undulating terrain; but because the whole landscape was shrouded by the mist, they had seen nothing in the surrounding highlands which confirmed their bearings. A drizzling rain had also been fa
ll
ing intermittently since daybreak and their thin cottons were damp and splashed with mud.
‘We must try to obtain some warmer clothing, master: said Sentaro, shivering suddenly in his saddle. ‘A couple of padded kimonos and some warm
tabi
for our feet. The air up here is colder. I think we are already about four thousand feet above the sea. And at the top of Fuji-san, remember,
it
is still like mid-winter.’
Shuddering himself, Eden nodded in agreement. ‘But where will we find such garments?’
‘In this region there are several inns and rest
-
houses for pilgrims.
As they rode on in silence the mist before them began to thin, and Eden found hinse1f looking ahead at what he assumed were patches
o
f storm-dark sky becoming visible above the moorland horizon. He was puzzled at first by the absence of any high contours in these leaden heavens until he realized with a shock that he was looking not at empty sky but at one gigantic flank of Mount Fuji rising up steeply above their heads. It blotted everything from view in front of them and the gentle violet hues of the volcanic cone, which had seduced his senses so completely from a distance, had changed at close quarters to an ominous, dark, primeval colour which made its massive bulk seem overpowering and hostile.
‘You see, master, we
are
still going in the right direction: said Sentaro quietly. ‘
F
uji-san herself has drawn back the curtain to show us the way.’
Eden nodded, but made no reply. The first harsh glimpse of Fuji close up had brought his shipboard dream images flashing back into his mind: although both brilliant and enthralling, the dream had also possessed a disturbing dimension which had now been echoed in reality for the first time. Furthermore the mist, far from clearing, was closing down rapidly again, like a Curtain being deliberately redrawn for reasons of concealment. Eden just had time to catch a glimpse of the snow-covered peak rearing up with threatening suddenness above them; a few moments later the whole mountain was obscured once more by the shroud of impenetrable whiteness, and he was left with a vague and unidentifiable feeling of foreboding.
For the first time he wondered if he had been insanely rash in surrendering to his wild impulse to climb the spectacular volcano. He was well aware he had been acting on instinct not reason, and had realized he would face considerable risks; but had he seriously miscalculated the degree of danger? Was the whole venture an act of extrem
e
folly? He closed his eyes, pondering these questions with a mounting feeling of anxiety; yet, despite
his
misgivings, he found his inner senses did not urge him to abandon the attempt and turn back. Something beyond words, he felt, was drawing him on, and he shrugged his shoulders as he rode forward, trying to push all negative thoughts from his mind.
‘Look, there’s something ahead, master,’ said Sentaro a few minutes later, pointing towards what turned out to be a tiny pilgrim inn nestling in a fold of the land. ‘I will stop to get us extra clothing.’
Eden was shivering continually now, and he spurred his horse into a clump of trees while Sentaro reined in outside the inn and dismounted. The former castaway joined him again fifteen minutes later, grinning broadly from under the brim of his wide hat. Across the neck of his horse he carried two black padded kimonos, two traditional pilgrim over-gowns of white cotton, thick white woollen
tabi
for their feet, and several spare pairs of woven- straw sandals. He had filled a new water bottle and also bought climbing staves, which he carried in one hand. Slung around his neck like necklaces, he wore two strings of eggs that had been cooked in their shells; each egg had been tied up individually inside a narrow strip of straw matting and, after riding far enough off the track to be invisible to anyone passing, they pulled on the warm garments, the white overgowns and the woollen socks.
B
owing his head respectfully, and gri
n
ning at the same time, Sentaro hung one of the skeins of hardboiled eggs around Eden’s neck, as though honouring him with a decoration, and they paused long enough to devour two of the eggs from the other skein.
‘I have rice and vegetables in my pouch, master, so we are better prepared now to begin our climb,’ said Sentaro, his narrow face become serious again. ‘But the landlord of the inn warned me that it is very dangerous to attempt the climb at any time without a guide. When the mist is thick, it is especially dangerous. He also said the snows this year still look very deep near the sum
m
it.’
‘We will find our own way, Sentaro. A guide would only betray us.’
Eden spurred his horse away with a sudden ferocity as if trying to calm the sense of disquiet nagging inside him. Sentaro followed quickly and they rode side by side without speaking up the winding track, noticing that the stretches of black sand and ash were growing larger. Very soon the surface of the moorland had become predominantly black, with only occasional splashes of green where small clumps of rank grass had taken root. In the dead grey light the whole landscape had taken on a charred and abandoned appearance as though it had been recently swept by fire, and the two
mollusk
hatted riders clad all in white passed steadily across it, moving forward like silent, insubstantial ghosts.
‘There was an eruption from this side of Fuji-san a hundred and fifty years ago panted Sentaro at Eden’s side. ‘The ashes rained down for many miles around
-
even the rooftops of Yedo were covered.
The landlord of the inn back there told me this whole area was covered with black sand to the height of a man . .
The hoofs of the horses were sinking deeper into the soft, volcanic cinders, slowing their progress, and the track grew steeper. Very soon the last patches of green and even the stunted trees disappeared, leaving the surface of the earth all round them ominously bare. As they climbed higher Eden began to realize that the frowning bulk of Fuji was not even the dark metallic blue it had seemed to be half an hour earlier:
the whole of the mountain, like the moorland, was a shocking cinder-black. Framed within lines of extraordinary symmetry; the cone seen from those lower slopes was a daunting pyramid of dead ashes, lava and cinders. Only high above
-
many miles away, it seemed to Eden
-
was this grim colour relieved by the sudden whiteness of the snow- covered summit, which by contrast seemed purer and more dazzling than before.
‘We must leave the horses soon, master, and continue on foot,’ whispered Sentaro, gazing up towards the peak with a bemused expression in his eyes. ‘I was told there’s one last pilgrim inn where they can be sheltered.’
Half an hour later, after Sentaro had stabled the horses, they were standing side by side, holding the staves in their hands, at the bottom of the steep cliff of black scoriae. Whenever they moved, their feet sank deep into the loose cinders, making a sharp crunching sound. A cold breeze was beginning to blow, chasing the fog, wisp by wisp, from the trackless mountain face and Eden stared through narrowed eyes at the harsh contours as they came gradually into focus.
No other human figure was visible on the steep slopes ahead of them to give any clue where invisible paths might lie, and he searched in vain for some logical line of ascent through the drab wastes. A sense of bafflement engulfed him suddenly as he struggled to come to terms with the horror of the grim scene before them. The charred flanks of the mountain, abandoned by all visible life forms, were a seared and deserted realm that reeked of fiery death and destruction. An ominous silence had descended and in those moments it seemed impossible that the spectacular mountain which had captivated him at first sight as a vision of light and beauty could have transformed itself so nightmarishly into the opposite.
‘Which way shall we climb, master?’ asked Sentaro, speaking in an uncertain voice at his side. ‘Have you made up your mind?’
Eden did not reply at once. Unable to formulate any rational plan of action, he jabbed his stave into the black cinders at his feet with a sudden decisiveness.
‘Yes, this way! Follow close behind me.’
The next instant he lunged blindly away across the loose scree and Sentaro hurried after him. A sharp gust of wind whipped against their faces and
wi
th
each
step they took
th
ei
r feet sank
deeper into the loose black sand.

RIDING FAST THROUGH
the thick mist at the head of a group of twenty helmeted arid fully armed samurai, Prince Tanaka failed to spot the tiny pilgrim inn nestling at the edge of the moorland. He had already passed
it
and was spurring his horse onward along the winding track, when Gotaro, who was riding at the rear of the group, noticed the blurred out
li
ne of the little thatched building and reined in his mount.
‘
O
Ka
m
i-san, forgive me: he called out loudly. ‘There is an inn here. We could stop and seek information.’
He waited respectfully while Tanaka wheeled his horse and led the rest of the samurai troop up to the inn gates. When Tanaka dismounted, the chief guard followed him to the doorway where the
teishi,
or landlord, had already appeared. Having caught sight of Tanaka’s richly embroidered
jimbaori
and the horned helmets of his escort, emblazoned with the Kago clan insignia, the landlord had already prostrated himself abjectly on the threshold with hands folded before him. He touched his forehead to the ground five times as the group approached, and remained in this position until he was addressed.
‘Rise,’ commanded Tanaka brusquely. ‘We wish only to ask you a question or two.’
The
teishi
half rose, still bowing obsequiously, and began backing into the shabby inn, indicating with mumbled se
l
f
-
effacements that his lordly visitor was very welcome to enter his unworthy establishment.
‘We don’t require the service of your inn at present, Teishi-san,’ said Tanaka quick1’ ‘We wish only to know if any strangers have called seeking refreshment, or otherwise passed by here today.’
‘It is at present very quiet in this remote region, o Kami-san,’ said the
teishi,
bowing very low again. ‘When the snows have melted fully on Fuji-san, many pilgrims will come by as usual. Today only one man has called at my humble inn.’
‘What sort of man was he?’ asked Gotaro eagerly. ‘Did he look anything like a
banzoku
-
a foreign barbarian bandit?’
Tanaka shot an angry glance at his chief guard as the
teishi’s
eyes widened in alarm; then he bowed again before replying.
‘The man who called today at my humble inn was an ordinary Nipponese
-
a farmer, a fisherman or some such, I should think..
‘What did he want?’ asked Tanaka, his eyes glowing with sudden interest. ‘Why did he call here?’
‘He merely bought some warm clothes,
O
Kami
-
san, to climb the mountain
-
and also some food. I warned him how dangerous it would be for them without a guide.’
‘Why do you say far
them?’
asked Tanaka sharply.
‘Because he bought clothes and food for another man as well, and he said he was preparing to climb the mountain with a companion.. .‘ The
teishi
stopped speaking, suspicion dawning in his eyes; when he resumed his voice bad taken on a faint edge of excitement. ‘Yes,
O
Ka
m
i-san, that’s right! And one of my servants said he saw another man gallop up with him. But the other man rode on past the inn without stopping...’
‘What sort of clothing did you sell them?’
‘Warm clothes,
O
Kami-san. Pilgrim robes,
tabi
and thick kimonos...’
‘And what clothes did he buy for his unseen companion?’
‘The same
-
but the largest size of everything...’
‘It must be the
banzoku,
O
Ka
m
i-san,’ said Gotaro excitedly. ‘And he clearly intends to commit the gravest of crimes by climbing sacred Fuji-san itself!’
‘How long is
it
since they passed?’ asked Tanaka, ignoring the samurai’s impetuous interruption.
The
teishi
thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps three hours or so,
O
Ka
m
i-san. Four hours at the most.’
‘And which way did they go?’
He pointed along the black shale track to the north. ‘That way,
O
Kami-san.’
Tanaka reached into a pouch at
h
is waist, extracted two silver coins and held them out. ‘I commend you for your assistance, Teishi-san. And I expect you to say nothing of these things to anybody else.’
‘
O
Kami-san does my humble dwelling the greatest honour.’
The
teishi
received the coins in both hands and bowed from the waist again in gratitude. He remained in this respectful posture while Tanaka climbed into his saddle, and did not straighten up until the group of horsemen had swept from the inn yard, to disappear rapidly into the mist. For a moment or two he stood listening to the urgent, fading beat of their hoofs, his face indicating that he was deep in thought. Then he called over his shoulder to a young servant, who throughout the meeting had hovered judiciously out of sight just inside the door.
‘Saddle up a horse he said to the youth, ‘and ride fast to our lord’s castle. Tell him i is believed the foreign barbarian bandit passed by here this morning, in the company of a Nipponese fisherman. Say they were last seen moving up the slopes of Fuji-san! Say also that a prince of the Kago clan is pursuing him hotly, with twenty of his samurai.’
‘Yes, master!’ said the youth, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘I will go at once!’
He dashed away towards the stables to prepare a horse and three minutes later galloped furiously out of the inn yard. Bent low over the horse’s mane, he swung away in the opposite direction to that taken by Prince Tanaka, and in his turn disappeared swiftly into the mist.