The Samurai
and the
Long-Nosed
Devils
The Samurai
and the
Long-Nosed
Devils
Lensey Namioka
TUTTLE PUBLISHING
Boston • Rutland, Vermont • Tokyo
Originally published in 1976 by David McKay Company, Inc. Paperback edition first published in 2004 by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd., with editorial offices at 364 Innovation Drive, North Clarendon, VT 05759 U.S.A.
Copyright © 1976 Lensey Namioka
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Control Number 2004105501
ISBN 978-1-4629-0124-1
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First paperback edition
08 07 06 05 04 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Design by Linda Carey
Printed in Canada
List of Characters
Zenta and Matsuzo, two ronin who become bodyguards to the Portuguese
Chiyo, girlfriend of Hambei, attendant of Lady Yuki
Hambei, henchman to Nobunaga
Kotaro, samurai serving Lord Fujikawa
Lady Yuki, daughter of Lord Fujikawa
Father Luis, Portuguese missionary
Pedro, Portuguese mercenary soldier
Nobunaga, warlord in the process of unifying Japan (a real character)
Maria, Japanese girl converted to Christianity, serving the Portuguese
Lord Fujikawa, nobleman who hates the Portuguese
Kagemasa, sent to investigate a murder
Ungen, warrior Buddhist monk
Abbot, of the mountain monastery
Chapter 1
Breathless after crossing the mountain pass, the two travelers stood for a moment and looked down on the dark gray roofs of Miyako. The capital city was situated in a small plain surrounded on three sides by mountains. On this July afternoon, the heat lay trapped in the city as if in a large bowl. The air vibrated with the heat, and to the tired eyes of the travelers, the roof tiles seemed to be jumping up and down.
The men each wore two swords thrust into their sashes, marking them as samurai. Their kimonos were of silk and had once been even elegant, but they were now torn and white with dust. On their feet the travelers wore straw sandals nearly falling apart from hard use. Still, the two men carried themselves with the unconscious haughtiness of the warrior class, although it was clear from their shabby condition that they were ronin, or unemployed samurai.
As they made their way down into the city, Matsuzo, the younger of the two ronin, removed his large basket-shaped hat and wiped his face with his sleeve. “How much money do we have left?” he asked.
Zenta, his companion, groped inside the front of his kimono and brought out a few coins. “I’m afraid this is all we have.” Matsuzo’s face fell. “Well, it should be enough for a bath, at least. Let’s go find a public bathhouse.”
Although he was young and had a pleasant, open countenance, it was not his habit to spend much thought on his appearance. But now that he was entering the capital city of Miyako, he was conscious of his grubbiness.
Zenta, several years older and widely traveled, had very different ideas about how to spend the last of their money. “We need food more than a bath,” he said. “We came to Miyako in order to enter Nobunaga’s service. Since he is fast becoming the most powerful man in the country, thousands of ronin are rushing to enlist with him. To improve our chances of being hired, we must make a good first impression by building up our strength with a solid meal.”
Prickly heat was making Matsuzo irritable, and he spoke to Zenta without his usual respect. “How do you expect us to make a good first impression on Nobunaga when we look like this! We won’t even get past the guards at his front gate!”
“Nobunaga is certainly not going to hire two weaklings who are tottering from hunger,” said Zenta. It was true that he looked famished. He removed his straw hat to reveal a thin face with somewhat aquiline features. He was taller than his companion, and he had a naturally spare build which the recent lean days had reduced to near gauntness.
“When we had the fight with those bandits last week, we hadn’t eaten for two days,” retorted Matsuzo. “I don’t remember seeing you totter then.”
But Zenta was not listening. He was drawn irresistibly to a street stall which sold broiled eel. The cook brushed a thick brown sauce on the pieces of eel sizzling on the hot grill, and a delicious aroma filled the air. The hollowness in Matsuzo’s stomach became suddenly urgent and his mouth began to water. Bath forgotten, he found himself following Zenta to the stall.
Before the two men could give their orders to the cook, they heard sounds of quarreling down the street. It was a narrow street, made yet more crowded by the temporary stalls constructed for the coming Gion Festival. Jostling was all too easy, and when the person jostled turned out to be a touchy samurai, the result could be violent.
In this particular quarrel, however, they could hear the shrill voice of a woman. In the next moment she cried, “Let me go! Let me go!” “You are coming with us!” ordered a man’s voice roughly.
Matsuzo turned and pushed his way towards the conflict. He was new to the life of a wandering ronin, and he still cherished the romantic ideal of the samurai as the defender of the weak.
Zenta gave a last regretful look at the broiled eel. After some