Death of a Doll Maker

23

He dozed fitfully, waking from time to time to bouts of nausea and the urge to do something, anything. His body would not obey.

He had somehow rolled on his back. Gingerly, he moved his hands. They were tied with rope and rested on his stomach. He tried lifting his arms, but pain exploded in his side hot as fire. He steadied his breathing and rested until it eased. Then he tried moving his feet and legs. They were tied at the ankles.

The stench of tar, human waste, and vomit filled the cold air. The steady slap of water to the hull masked other noises, but eventually Tora knew there were others nearby. Someone wept softly, and someone else mumbled sutras or repeated in an endless murmur Namu Amida Butsu.

He opened his eyes. Darkness. A little faint light crept through the cracks of a trapdoor or hatch above him. He was in the hold of a ship, and he was not alone. He could barely make out three huddled shapes near him and guessed they were convicts.

“Hey?” he croaked, surprised he could make a sound at all.

The praying stopped, but the weeping continued.

“Who are you?” Tora asked. His mouth hurt.

Someone gave a snort that could have been a bitter laugh or a sob. “Nobody. We’re all dead men, and so are you.”

Waves washed against the hull, the boards creaked and the floor beneath Tora lifted, shifted, and plunged. Nauseatingly. Over and over again. And someone still wept. Tora tried to move again. His side told him all was not well. His companion was wrong about his being dead anyway. The dead felt no pain.

It came back to him then: the talk about convict ships and getting rid of him. Well, they had managed it. He was tied up and at sea. The movement of the ship was too violent for a river. How long since they left Hakata? How far to Tsushima?

He could hear muffled sounds above, and faint shouts. They must be deep in the hold of the ship.

The voice spoke up again: “In a little while, they’ll come and drag us up on deck. Then they’ll slit our throats and toss us overboard. Food for the fishes.” He snorted again.

Tora decided it was a laugh rather than a sob. The one who wept was still weeping. A bit more loudly.

“Is that why you’re praying?” Tora asked.

“I never pray.”

“Oh.”

Tora decided his rib did not hurt quite as much as earlier. Though what good it would do him he did not know. His arms and legs were tied. And even if they were not, where could he escape to on a ship?

“I’m Tora,” he said. “What makes you think they’ll kill us? I thought we were going to Tsushima to work in the mines.”

“Same thing. But a lot go overboard before they get there. What crime did you commit?”

“No crime. I was bludgeoned by a couple of devils. Next thing I knew I was here.”

Silence.

Tora stretched cautiously again. His rib protested a little, but the pain was bearable. He realized his wrists were tied in front, not behind him as in Hakata. “Don’t you believe me?” he asked, testing the bond of the rope. When he pulled, it tightened. Not helpful. His wrists started to hurt.

“If you’re telling the truth, then it’s pretty certain they’ll cut your throat before we get there.”

Tora flexed his wrists. He wondered why they’d tied them in front. Theoretically, it was much easier to escape this way. But then they knew he was not going to go anywhere on this ship. The other answer to the “why” also became apparent. He was not wearing his own clothes any longer. He seemed to have on a rough shirt without sleeves and a pair of thin pants cut off at the knee. They had to untie him to change his clothes. He tried raising his feet to see if he could reach his ankles, but his rib gave him another sharp pain, and he desisted.

“What makes you so sure they’ll kill me?” he asked the other man. “I’m strong. I’m a good worker.”

The other chuckled. “As I said, if you’re telling the truth, then your case is personal. Someone wants to get rid of you. Permanently. This is how they do it here.”

“I’m not from here. Just got to Hakata a few weeks ago. You say this sort of thing is common?”

“Pretty much. You made an enemy. Fast work. What did you do?”

“Two actually. One’s a bastard called Okata. I didn’t like the way he was running things and got him fired.”

“Okata? Captain Okata?” His companion whistled. “How did you manage that?”

Tora was working with his teeth on the hemp rope around his wrists and could not answer.

“What are you doing?” asked the other.

Tora spat out some fibers. “Trying to chew through this rope. When I’m free, I’ll untie you.”

“Thanks, I’m not tied up.”

Tora froze. Who was this man to be left unbound? Probably a guard. And he was chatting away with him as if they were sharing a flask of wine.

“Who or what are you really?” he growled.

A chuckle. “A man like you.”

“But you aren’t bound? You can move about freely?”

“Yes. See?” A tall shadow rose beside Tora and waved its arms.

Suddenly afraid, Tora said nothing.

It was silent, except for the slapping of the waves and the rhythmic groaning of the wooden hull. The weeping man had fallen silent also.

His companion sat down again. “I’m a prisoner like you. I just started chewing through my bonds while you were having your nap. I thought I might at least take a couple of them with me before they kill me.”

Relief washed over Tora, then anger. “You could have untied me,” he said resentfully.

“I wasn’t sure you were safe. Convicts bound for Tsushima can be dangerous travel companions.”

Tora accepted this. His fellow prisoner spoke like a man who had some education, was someone like himself. “Well, how about it?” he asked.

The shadow rose again and came closer. “You haven’t made much progress with your teeth,” he observed, feeling the rope around Tora’s wrists. He found the knot and started working it.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” Tora observed.

“You can call me Shigeno. It’s the name my father gave me, though I haven’t used it for a while. There!”

The rope parted, and the relief was huge. Blood flowed into his hands again. Tora massaged his wrists. “Thanks. Can you get my feet too?”

“Get them yourself!”

“One of the bastards kicked in a rib. I can’t bend at the waist.”

Shigeno muttered, but he worked on Tora’s ankles.

“How many are we?” Tora asked. He thought if they freed everyone they might be able to take over the ship.

“Four, with you.”

“Only four? How many above?”

The rope on Tora’s feet parted. He stretched and winced at the stab of pain in his chest.

“Twenty, maybe more. Sailors and armed guards. There’s a policeman among them. Too many. Besides, you can’t fight in your condition.” Shigeno returned to his place.

Another voice from the darkness asked, “Please untie me, too.”

Shigeno snapped, “What good will it do you? Best stay a prisoner.”

“But you and Tora are free.”

“Not free, just able to do some damage when they come to throw us overboard. You two are safe. You’re going to Tsushima. If I untie you, the guards will kill you.”

Silence. Then the man began reciting his prayer again. Tora expected the weeping to start next, but the fourth man remained quiet.

Tora held his breath and struggled into a sitting position. The pain almost caused him to black out. He rested for while, propped against the bulwark behind him and started flexing his leg muscles. He was very stiff after being tied up all this time. How long? He had no idea but guessed it was less than a day but more than four hours.

When his chest hurt less, he tried to get his legs under him and rise. The pain came back, but he struggled on.

Impossible!

He had managed to get on his knees, and this position seemed to ease his ribcage.

“Give me a hand,” he said.

The hand reached for his and hauled him upright. Tora gasped and stood swaying, waiting for the pain to subside again. He noted with surprise that the other man was nearly a head taller. He was also strong. “Anything we can use for a weapon down here?” he asked when he got his breath back.

“Too dark to be sure, but I doubt it. Let me see where you’re hurt.”

Tora took the other man’s hand and placed it on his lower ribcage on the left side. The man felt around, and Tora snarled, “Watch it.”

“Pah. It’s nothing,” said the other. “You’re a crybaby.”

Someone laughed. Since the praying man had not stopped his recital, Tora guessed it had been the weeper. Very funny! He took a few unsteady steps. The motion of the ship was no help.

“Here, wait.” Shigeno grabbed his arm. “I’m going to tie my sash around you. That should help keep the rib in place.” He wound it around a few times, then pulled it so tight that Tora gasped. “Hold still,” Shigeno said and tied a knot. “There!”

It did help. Tora still could not bend very well, but he could move both arms without undue pain and even turn at the waist. “Thanks,” he said. Then he called out to the other two shadows,” Hey, you two. Do you know anything about sailing a ship like this?”

The praying man said, “We both do. We’re sailors.”

“Let’s untie them, Shigeno. They can help.”

“You must be mad. I told you, there are at least twenty men up there. Besides, the ship’s too big for two sailors to handle.”

“What’s your solution? A moment ago you planned to let them toss you overboard.”

The praying man said, “Hey, stop arguing and untie us.”

The other sailor wailed softly, “They’ll kill us.”

Tora snapped, “Maybe, but I don’t think many come back from the mines. If you get away, you can head for the hills and start a new life elsewhere.”

There were no more arguments. Tora and Shigeno untied the convicts and searched for something that could be used for weapons. Even though Tora’s eyes had adjusted, it was still very dark. Unidentifiable mounds of things were piled in far corners. They felt around among pieces of rough cloth to mend sails, rope of varying thickness, and pieces of lumber too long and heavy to be useful.

A rough ladder led up to the hatch above. Now and then, Tora could hear footsteps up there.

Shigeno hissed, “Sssh! I think they’re coming for us. Hurry!”

One of the convicts gasped, but both came to help. They found an iron spike, a broken oar, and a couple of short spars. Shigeno pulled out a grappling hook with a length of broken rope attached, and Tora took the oar, breaking off the paddle end. The rest would make a cudgel or short fighting staff.

Up above, they heard voices near the hatch. Shigeno said softly, “I’ll go halfway up the ladder, grab the first of the bastards, and pass him on to you. You’d best kill him quick and follow. Stand ready!”

It was mad. Tora was conscious of being in poor shape even as he gripped the shaft of the oar. When those above realized their prisoners were free, they would simply slam the hatch cover down again until they reached port and could deal with them.

Shigeno climbed up to the hatch, and Tora took position just below him. The other two sailors waited at the foot of the ladder.

Then the latch cover lifted.