Death on an Autumn River

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sun rose brilliantly after the storm, and all around them islands floated on a shimmering sea, some larger and some very small.

The one they approached was pitifully small, apparently consisting of no more than a large picturesque rock formation with a few pines clinging to it and a narrow strip of sandy beach. Tora saw neither buildings nor people.

Under the clearing morning skies, the pirates had got busy setting as much sail as was left. They steered the ship along the small island’s coast. Eventually, a promontory blocked the way. They took the vessel close to the land. Tora saw no reason why they would want to land here. The place was desolate and inhospitable. For that matter, the rocks loomed dangerously close. It looked almost as if they planned to ram the ship into them.

When they were almost exactly under the tallest cliff, a shout rang out from it, and the sailors answered with cheers and laughter. A lookout had seen and welcomed them. They were among friends.

They reefed the remaining sail and put men on the oars and the rudders. The ship slowed and made a turn around the promontory, and there was an inlet, a narrow opening between two sheer walls of rock. With the ease of experience, the ship entered and passed the narrows to come to rest in a small bay. Here the land fell more gently toward the water, a few shacks stood on the beach, and fishing boats were drawn up on the sand.

A new worry seized Tora. The secret entrance into this hidden cove, where the pirate ship could lie at anchor without being seen from the open sea, made it the perfect hideaway. If a pirate ship found itself pursued, it could disappear with an almost supernatural suddenness, and the pursuers would be none the wiser. He had witnessed this maneuver, found their hideaway, and could recognize the landmarks. They would not let him leave to reveal their secret to the world.

As they anchored, men and women appeared on the shore to greet them. Tora counted more people than could comfortably live in the few shacks, so there must be a settlement somewhere. He had no time to reflect on this, because the pirates lowered the boat and came for him.

No bonds this time, but neither were they gentle with him. They grunted commands to get in the boat and watched impatiently as he tried to climb down, holding on to a rope. The rope chafed his already raw hands, and he fell the last few feet, getting a kick for his clumsiness. After that, he sat, cradling his sore palms, while they rowed ashore.

There he suffered the curious scrutiny of the women, children, and old men. From their excited babble in a strong dialect, he deduced that he was being introduced as a “spy” and their prisoner. He looked around for a male who might be the chief mentioned by Dragon Tattoo but saw no one who fit his idea of a pirate chief.

A number of the returned sailors, with Dragon Tattoo in the lead, marched him inland.

The dirt path was well-travelled and showed wheel tracks but no hoof marks. Apparently goods were moved by manpower. Rocky mountain sides, thinly covered with pines and brambles enclosed the track. After about half a mile of steady climbing, Tora saw cave openings, several of them, and it occurred to him that these men lived in caves. Then he smelled smoke. And food cooking. If his mouth had not been so dry, it would have watered. He realized his hunger and thirst were much greater than his fear. Would they feed him before they killed him? He decided he would refuse to speak until he got some food and water.

The path took a few more turns before they reached a plateau. This was surrounded by sheer rock walls pierced by many openings. In front of a large cave entrance was an open fire with a large pot suspended over it. A woman stirred it with a wooden ladle. A short distance from her sat a middle-aged man on a campaign stool of the kind used by generals during a campaign. He had a thick black beard and bushy brows, wore half armor and boots, and had a sword lying beside him. He raised a hand in greeting to Dragon Tattoo before his eyes fell on Tora.

This, then, must be the chief, the man who held his life in his hands. Tora returned the look with equal curiosity.

“Bring him!” The chief’s voice boomed and echoed from the mountainside. Tora thought it appropriate for a commander of an army.

Dragon Tattoo grasped Tora’s arm, thrusting him forward so that he stumbled and fell to one knee. Catching himself, Tora shook a fist at Dragon Tattoo and then walked the few steps to the pirate chief.

“Hah!” said the chief. “You think you can threaten one of my men?”

“He’s a coward and a bastard who likes to hurt people.”

Dragon Tattoo ran up with a snarl, his own fist raised.

“No,” said the chief. “He’s right. You are a coward and I’ve seen you torturing prisoners. Tell me why you decided to bring a stranger here.”

Dragon Tattoo shot Tora a furious glance, but he lowered his fist. “He’s a spy, chief. He was asking questions about us.”

The chief glowered. “And you thought it was a good idea to show him our island? What am I to do with him?”

Dragon Tattoo’s face fell for a moment. Then he said, “You can find out who he works for before I kill him. No harm done.” He chortled.

“You’re not only a coward, you’re an idiot!” the chief roared, getting to his feet so violently that his stool fell over.

Tora saw that the others gathered around the fire where the woman was dishing out helpings of whatever was in the large pot. He was ravenous. “If you don’t mind, chief,” he said, breaking into the ominous silence before the storm, “I’d very much like something to eat and drink before you go on with this. Your men haven’t been exactly hospitable.”

The chief’s jaw dropped. He looked at Tora speechlessly for a moment, then burst into a laugh. “You’re a cool bastard. What if I let Tojo kill you? He wants to badly enough, don’t you, Tojo?”

Tojo cringed but nodded his head. “I’ll do it, chief. Right here and now. Just say the word.”

Tora gave him a pitying look. “He can’t do it. Not unless you have me tied up again.”

Dragon Tattoo exploded into another attack, fists flying. Tora skipped aside, stuck out a leg to trip him and, when he was down, sat on him. “You see?” he said to the chief with a grin.

The chief grinned back. “Let him go and get something to eat. We’ll talk later.”

Tora got up. “Thanks, chief. And by the way, the name’s Tora.”

The food was good and plentiful, fish cooked with rice. The rice was of the best quality, very white and with a rich flavor. It was what the wealthy ate. No doubt, it came from those bales he could see stacked inside the cave. Life was good to pirates.

The chief was now deep in conversation with the man who had been at the rudder of the ship, its captain or master. A small but heavy bag changed hands. The chief peered into it, then shoved it inside his shirt. He said something, and both men turned their heads to look at Tora. Tora quickly raised his bowl to his face. He was nearly done and still hungry. Holding the empty bowl out to the woman who was stirring the pot, he gave her a pleading look. She spat and turned her back on him.

“Fill his bowl!” roared the chief.

She glared at Tora but gave him another helping. He bowed to the chief and thanked her, adding a compliment on her cooking. In vain. She turned away.

Tora sighed. A spy’s life was hard.

And dangerous.

Dragon Tattoo came for his own meal and gave Tora a look of such sheer hatred that he choked on his next bite. The chief might be a man of some humanity, but the same did not apply to his people. There was little doubt that Dragon Tattoo would kill him at his first opportunity.

Tora finished his food and felt better. There was nothing to do but to await developments. The fact that no one made a move to unload the ship meant that they had made a delivery in Kawajiri and been paid off. That was why the master had passed a bag of money to the chief. Perhaps he could find out who had bought the pirated goods.

He glanced around and saw nothing but hardened faces. The chances of getting information were not good. He had better think about getting away and let the government take care of the pirate hideout.

Chances were that on its next departure the ship would resume the hunt for prey. He could not escape that way. And even if he could convince the chief that he was a promising recruit, Tora shuddered at what he would be expected to do. Pirates were ruthless about slaughtering ships’ crews.

Was there some other way?

The plateau around the great cave was high above the sea but enclosed by rocky ridges and forest. Only toward the west, he could catch a glimpse of the water. He saw two other islands, fairly close, and knew there were many more. But even so, he could not hope to swim that far.

“You! Tora! Come here.”

Tora spun around. The chief was gesturing. He got up, dusted himself off, and strolled over.

“They say you’re a spy,” the chief growled.

Tora chose a rock and sat down across from the chief. “They’re idiots,” he said, grinning.

The chief narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing in the hostel?”

“I needed a place to sleep. What else?”

“You’d been asking questions all over town. Don’t lie to me.”

“I always ask questions. I like to know what’s going on and who people are.”

“You asked questions about us.”

“No. I didn’t know anything about you. I asked about pirates.”

“Why?”

Tora looked up at the sky. After the storm it was a clear blue again. High above him circled several birds of prey. Below he could hear the cries of gulls. “I was thinking of becoming one,” he said, “but now I’m not so sure. Are you going to split that money with your men?”

“What?”

Tora brought his eyes back to the chief’s bulging shirt and grinned. “The master of your ship brought you a bag of coins. It looked heavy. Maybe it was gold. Anyway, I guess being a pirate is a dangerous and bloody business. I’d like to think there’s quite a lot of gold to be earned. The food was good, but I don’t work for food alone.”

“You’re a cocky bastard all right,” said the chief. “Cocky bastards are trouble. Best make short work of them.”

“Cocky bastards are what you need more of. Not idiots like Dragon Tattoo. And by the way, he stole my sword. I want it back.”

The chief snorted. “He took it off you; you take it back. I’d like to see you try.”

“Very well.” Tora got to his feet. “It’s been a pleasure, chief,” he said, made a slight bow, and walked away.

He did not really feel very cocky, but by now and with a full stomach he was very angry. Part of the anger was directed at himself for having been careless. Part was directed at Dragon Tattoo, the man he held responsible for his capture. It had become clear that the bastard had acted out of personal spite rather than because he really thought Tora was a spy and a danger to their enterprise. Sometimes a fool is more dangerous than the slyest villain.

Since they made no effort to restrict his movements, he wandered around, trying to get an idea how to get away. They watched him though, and he knew better than to go off by himself. Instead, he stayed with groups of the pirates, watching their work, asking questions from time to time that received no answers, and surveying as much of the island as he could.

They would not let him explore the cave where they stored their loot, but nobody objected when he joined some men who headed down to the hidden harbor. They got into the boat that had brought them ashore, and rowed out to the ship. Tora sat on the sandy beach and watched them begin repairs.

When the boat returned to pick up some lumber, he got up to meet them. “I can help,” he offered. “I’d rather work than sit about doing nothing.”

They looked at each other. Tora thought he recognized the man he had stopped from going overboard during the storm. He said, “Let him come. There’s no way you can escape.”

Tora grinned. “I don’t want to escape.”

They did not become any friendlier or more talkative after that, but they pointed out the lumber stored in one of the shacks, and sail cloth, and big bundles of hemp rope. These he helped them load into the boat and then joined them for the return trip to the ship.

In the afternoon they rowed back to the shore to drag a large tree trunk to the ship. It would be the new mast, replacing the one the storm had taken away. This was very heavy work, and Tora was drenched in sweat. He had long since stripped to his pants. They had stared at him when he did this. Tora’s torso and upper arms bore many scars from fights and battles of the past, and he thought they treated him with more respect afterward.

For his part, he developed equal respect for their ability to make these repairs and for their determination and pride in their work. He was too clumsy for most of the chores, but he knew how to carry, lift, pull, use a hammer, and generally lend a hand.

Dusk came early in the small bay hidden by the tall rocks, and they stopped their labors for their evening rice. Tora could not remember when he had last been so utterly exhausted. He was still bruised from the stormy night, and his head was sore and hurt. But the pirates had taken more punishment during the storm, and he was not about to show them how weak he was. He dragged his weary body from the bay to the plateau above, seriously doubting that he could make the climb.

. The sinking sun still left a golden glow in front of the great cave. Once there, he collapsed and emptied his mind, lying on the ground, watching birds circling above in the fading light. When he gathered his wits again and sat up with a groan, he saw that the chief was listening to the report on the repairs. Some of the men he had worked with stood around him, and by their gestures and glances he guessed that they talked about him. He had been unable to glean anything useful about their habits or his chances of escaping, but perhaps he had won himself some goodwill.

Feeling a strange bristling on the back of his neck, he turned his head. Dragon Tattoo was sitting a few yards behind him. He was looking at him, his eyes filled with raw hatred. Only now, Tora thought, there was something new: a hint of triumph and gleeful anticipation.

The attack would come soon.

He was still weighing his options against Dragon Tattoo when the chief called them both over.

He told Tora, “I could put you in chains tonight, but you’ve made yourself useful, and besides Tojo would just slit your throat. On the other hand, left free, you might try to escape while the camp is asleep. So I’ve decided that Tojo will watch you while you sleep.”

Dragon Tattoo protested. “Chain him up. I want to sleep myself.”

Tora said nothing. He eyed his sword at Dragon Tattoo’s side and wondered if he could snatch it and cut the bastard’s throat. Maybe the chief would overlook it.

The chief growled, “No. It’s your punishment for being an idiot and a coward. And if he gets away, or if something happens to him, I’ll personally cut off your balls.”