Читать книгу The Emperor's Men 8: Stormy Heavens - Dirk van den Boom, Emmanuel Henné - Страница 7

Lengsley touched Sarukazaki’s shoulder. He was allowed this confidentiality. He had been working side by side with the technician for weeks, and it was as if two related souls had found each other. Across all linguistic and cultural differences, the two men shared a common passion for everything related to technical devices. Be it the complicated machinery of the boat, be it the much simpler things they tried to convey to the Maya, it was all engineering, and everything was equally important. There were some among the Maya who shared this passion, a strange mix of builders, artisans, scribes, and some young people who might not have been all of these, often sons of influential nobles. They had formed an informal circle around Lengsley and Sarukazaki, a group of students and teachers, because even the time travelers had to understand what their hosts knew before they could set out to teach them anything useful.

It was always in the evening, and it was not always the same number of Maya who gathered around the two men, but the changes were minor. Lengsley and Sarukazaki had started to come up with something like a curriculum to be able to convey information in a targeted manner. Since this was entirely in line with Inugami’s wishes, who generally did not think much of the achievements of Mayan culture and saw a massive need for development, there was no danger of causing the Captain’s dislike.

They had started to learn the numbers of the Maya themselves and how they did the math. In some areas the Mutalese were very advanced. Lengsley was only beginning to get an idea of what astronomical knowledge existed, but he was already impressed. He found understanding listeners as he began to work through formulas and calculations that he slowly introduced and ended his explanations immediately when he found that someone already knew the answers and could do it much better. In this way, he succeeded in exploring the scope of Mayan mathematics, which in many ways was the basis, above all, for the introduction to mechanics.

Otherwise it was just fun. It was a pleasure to work with people who wanted to know something and who were able to use their previous knowledge correctly and build on it. Sometimes the evening discussion wandered and they left the topic that they had intended. As a rule, it remained with technical-scientific discussions, also on topics where even Lengsley and Sarukazaki had to resign at some point, since they knew little more about it than the Maya. But they were not resented for it. The questioners steadfastly probed the depth of their teachers’ knowledge, and soon they seemed to have gained an impression of where further inquiries were worthwhile and where not. Their respect didn’t seem to shrink. Of course, the teachers lost the nimbus of infallibility, but since neither the British nor his Japanese colleague had ever seriously tried maintain such and did not attach any importance to it, this did not particularly matter. With each lesson, apparent and actual differences blurred a little more.

However, their lessons got a special quality when one evening Prince Isamu appeared with them, along with his teacher, the old Sawada. Lengsley did not lack respect, but Sarukazaki immediately became stiff, terribly formal, and hardly dared to look the boy in the face. Sawada just sat with the Prince, and they both listened to the conversation. They said nothing, and at the end, when everyone left the fire to sleep, Sawada came up to both of them and said, “The Prince will be attending your classes in the future, Brit. He needs instruction, and I’m busy with many other things that Captain Inugami told me to do. You will include His Highness in the conversation, and he will learn.”

The way Sawada said it sounded like an order. Lengsley had no major reservations, Isamu seemed to be nice enough despite his parentage, and he had already learned a lot of the Mayan language. Sarukazaki, however, only turned pale when he heard Sawada’s words, and the first two evening sessions showed how uncomfortable he was, tense, excited, and unsure of how to behave properly. Lengsley was concerned about this and wasn’t sure how to help his colleague. Sarukazaki was of little use during these lessons.

It was their Maya friends who solved the problem. The younger ones included Isamu in their conversations, first carefully, then with greater courage when the Prince was ready to respond to her request. This broke the ice for Sarukazaki, too, and since the Prince never complained when someone turned to him without being asked or even corrected him, the soldier relaxed visibly.

Lengsley knew that Sawada was playing a dangerous game. Inugami had specifically ordered that the Prince be kept as far away from the “savages” as possible. He wanted to make the boy a god emperor, as Aritomo had explained to the British, exactly as he was meant to do, and in the spirit of the old shogunate – as a puppet and symbol of a power that was actually in the hands of the shogun, and who in turn intended to hold this office, there was no doubt for Lengsley.

But Sawada seemed to want to use the opportunity that Inugami was in Saclemacal for his own plans. Since none of the crew dared to contradict the Prince and his wishes – an effect that the Captain may have underestimated –, he was able to gradually ensure that the Prince’s isolation was removed. The evening lessons with the intellectual elite of Mutal were as much a part of it as some other arrangements that Sawada had made in a subtle way.

Aritomo didn’t seem to notice or didn’t want to notice. Lengsley assumed that he did not want to, since he had to enforce his orders in Inugami’s absence, at least in theory. And there were probably those for whom the first officer did not feel the necessary enthusiasm to enforce anything.

Isamu thawed more every night.

And it happened what Sawada would have intended.

He found a friend – a young man, a year or two older than the prince, the son of a nobleman, who attended every evening instruction with his friends and had never been absent, and whose intent was no doubt to be more than just a member of the elite the city. His name was Ichik, and he was one of the first to speak to Isamu. The Prince discovered a fascination for Mayan architecture with him. One day when Lengsley saw the two boys standing in front of the Jaguar Temple as Ichik explained the intricacies of the building to him – and shortly afterwards the intricacies of some of the noble daughters of their age passing by –, it was clear to the Brit that there was no way back into isolation for the Prince. How would Inugami deal with it – and what drastic measures would he be ruthless enough to take in order to restore the status quo? And if he admitted, to think how would he take revenge on Sawada or even him, the suspicious Gaijin?

This said something about Sawada that he hadn’t asked him beforehand, knowing that any possible consequence would hit him at least as hard as the old teacher. Both were, of course, indispensable to the captain in their own way. But that didn’t mean Inugami couldn’t make life very difficult for them. He was a calculating but also a vindictive man who did not shy away from violence in any form. There was a reason why King Chitam had sent his family to safety far from Mutal, out of the captain’s reach, and before they left for Saclemacal.

Lengsley found himself thinking about his own escape options. It was not a good sign.

It was one evening, the day the news of the triumph at Saclemacal reached their ears, when the group had been smaller than usual and lectures ended earlier. A violent tropical storm had wreaked havoc, and most of the usual guests had been busy repairing until the dark, so tiredness had prevailed over eagerness to learn. But Isamu, and with him his friend Ichik, had not missed the opportunity to attend Sarukazaki’s presentation of a model of a water mill. The Maya relied heavily on the strength of their muscles and had achieved something outstanding with it. But since they didn’t even use wheels for vehicles, they had underestimated hydropower, and Sarukazaki had made it its business to change that.

The presentation went well; there had been questions and a request to repeat it again the next time everyone was there. The Japanese had been satisfied, and Lengsley had little to contribute as this was the technician’s show.

He helped Sarukazaki disassemble his carefully constructed water mill and to safekeep the model for another demonstration, and only realized when they were done and the Japanese left with his treasure toward the accommodation that Prince Isamu and Ichik had waited until the end.

The Brit felt almost alarmed against his will. He took a deep breath and smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?” Lengsley said with a respectful tone. He couldn’t take the risk of claiming too much freedom. As a stranger among the Japanese as well as the Maya, his position was special, and he had to use the credit he had obtained on both sides with great care.

“Mr. Lengsley, I’d be happy if you just call me Isamu – when we’re among us.”

Ichik was apparently included in “among us,” and the fact that the Prince spoke to him in English – which he knew surprisingly well – was a sign that he was serious.

“Good, Isamu … whatever you want. But if I accidentally ignore certain elements of expected etiquette, then –”

“It is already forgiven,” the Prince replied, smiling.

“So what can I do for you?”

“I would like your opinion as an outsider.”

Lengsley pressed his lips together briefly. Isamu did not act diplomatically, but on the other hand this word corresponded exactly to the thoughts he had just had himself. So why should he blame the young man? “My opinion on what?”

“To my fate.”

Lengsley immediately felt overwhelmed, and the alarmed feeling returned. The question was asked so clearly, without any self-pity, and there was a great deal of uncertainty behind it, but at the same time there was also self-knowledge about his own role – it was so much that he did not know at which level he should answer and why he was actually chosen to deal with this topic. He had, of course, talked to Aritomo about the Prince, and they had both agreed that Isamu was a poor guy who would find it very difficult to assert himself in the face of all the forces that were pulling at him. The boy had also started talking to Aritomo a few weeks ago, and Aritomo had told Lengsley about it in a nutshell. The Prince was looking for advice old Sawada obviously couldn’t give him.

But was he, the Gaijin, capable to do so?

The Prince seemed to think so. Or he was desperate enough to try to talk to anyone who was available to him.

“Let’s sit down again,” Lengsley murmured. The nighttime fire around which they had gathered had already started to go out, so he added some branches. “So your fate – I can’t see the future, my prince.”

Isamu looked into the flames and nodded. “Nobody can. But I would like to know what you would advise me, which way to go.”

“It depends on your wishes and ideas.”

“I thought of my duty.”

Lengsley nodded. “When fulfilling your duty is your wish –”

“What is my duty?”

“Good question. If we believe Captain Inugami –”

“That’s my problem,” Isamu interrupted. Lengsley saw the otherwise controlled and motionless mask that the Prince always seemed to wear getting crumbly. Emotions became visible, and they had to be quite violent. “I do not believe him.”

Lengsley didn’t know what to say. It was difficult for him to internalize the Japanese concepts of discipline and obedience. After all, it wasn’t just about belief. Many may have doubts about the Captain’s plans. But no one admitted it openly, except perhaps Aritomo, who was high up in the hierarchy itself. Lengsley was not a soldier, but he knew what the Japanese thought and what alternatives they had if they tried to break the cycle of obedience and discipline. Often enough, only dishonor or even suicide remained. His comrades were too quick at hand with death for Lengsley’s taste.

Isamu knew all of this much better than Lengsley, because he had been trained that way all his life. If he was willing to cross these invisible barriers, the limits that Japanese society had placed around him, the Prince’s despair must be greater than Aritomo had assumed. And often desperate actions grew out of desperation. The fact that Isamu spoke to Lengsley – well considered – certainly had its meaning.

“I don’t want to rule over these people, Mr. Lengsley, neither by name, as a mere symbol, nor seriously. They have their own dynasties, as venerable and old as those I am from. I have no right to do so. And I do not share Captain Inugami’s attitude, who treats the people here like things or pawns like they are just tools with which to accomplish his great plans. I know that I will never see my home again. And you know what? It doesn’t matter to me. I do not long back to the court, I do not miss the rules, the stiff ceremony and all the expectations that have been imposed on me without ever having a realistic prospect of sitting on the throne. I see this journey as a way to freedom.”

Lengsley nodded slowly. “But the captain blocks this path, Isamu.”

“That’s the way it is. I cannot and will not accept that.”

Lengsley was surprised at the Prince’s intense speech. Put forward in well-spoken words that betrayed both his intelligence and his education, he had not turned clouded his true feelings and aspirations. Ichik sat next to him and probably understood more than enough of what his friend had just said. Lengsley felt a great burden placed on his shoulders with the Prince’s trust. If Isamu revealed his true feelings and intentions to him and Aritomo, wasn’t there a great responsibility for both of them? And how did one want to do it justice? The hope of advice and assistance was clearly evident from the Prince’s words. Lengsley was still clearly overwhelmed with it.

To say this to the Prince would cause too much disappointment. Then who else did he have to turn to?

“Have you spoken to Aritomo Hara about these things?”

“Once and not so clearly. It’s difficult for him too.”

Isamu had put the first officer’s dilemma in one simple sentence. That he said this spoke of his ability to observe. And it became Lengsley’s burden. Isamu, in his perception of hierarchy, obedience, honor, and discipline, had come to the conclusion that Aritomo Hara, with all his goodwill and understanding, had his hands tied in many ways. But Lengsley …

Lengsley was the Gaijin, even at the best of times one who was on the margins, outside, who didn’t belong, couldn’t belong at all. And Isamu, in his thinking, with his doubts and hopes, felt more like a stranger, more and more so, and apparently believed that Lengsley was most likely to be the one who would understand … and help him.

It had a certain logic, but it didn’t help the British very much.

“What do you expect of me, Isamu?”

The Prince nodded slowly, gave Ichik a long look. He took a deep breath.

“I know that it sounds insane and dangerous, Mr. Lengsley. But I want to do what I can only accomplish before the golden cage around me is completely closed. I want to run away, Mr. Lengsley.” He stared into the Britishman’s eyes as if this would prove the seriousness of his intentions. “I want to run away as soon as possible, and I want you to help me with that.”