Tokyo Bay by Anthony Grey Page A

coloured message flags were fluttering up the mizzenmast and the midshipman made a detour on returning to the quarterdeck to hand over the private message to Robert Eden.
‘With Lieutenant Rice’s compliments sir!’
The boy saluted smartly as he passed on the slip of paper. Close up, he realized that traces of Ed e n’s Indian ancestry were indeed visible in his broad face; but, although the trainee officer stood respectfully to attention before him, Eden did not look at him directly. Instead he merely nodded his thanks before dismissing him, then glanced briefly towards the flag lieutenant on the quarterdeck to acknowledge the note’s delivery. Before opening i t, Eden scanned the surrounding sea and the distant beaches, to check whether his gunnery crews might be called urgently into action. Only when he was satisfied there was no immediate danger did he unfold the piece of paper.
The message read: Robert - first, m ay I offer a friendly word of advice. I think our Japanese castaway should remain invisible in his quarters during this dangerous period of our approach - , his sake as well as ours. Perhaps you would give him appropriate instructions. Secondly, a personal request. The commodore, for protocol reasons, has ordered me to conduct any initial negotiations on his behalf He wishes to remain unseen, and will eventually meet only the very highest imperial dignitary. If any Japanese, armed or unarmed, come aboard, I want you and nobody else to head my guard party. I hope you’ll agree - John Rice. Eden folded the note away into a pocket and glanced round at Sentaro. The Japanese was still crouched on the deck, staring intently through the gunport. Following his gaze, Eden saw that Mount Fuji seemed to have grown suddenly in size, and for the first time its broad base had become fully visible. But because the lower slopes glowed grey in the growing light, they still seemed to melt and merge moment by moment into the paleness of the morning sky, renewing the impression that the dramatic peak had the power to detach itself from the earth whenever it chose, and to soar majestically into the heavens. The enchantment of the mountain, he found, was as great by day as by night - and it was with an effort that he turned away and bent to tap the Japanese castaway on the shoulder.
‘The next few hours could be difficult here on deck, Sentaro,’ he said firmly in Japanese. ‘It would be best if you went back to your place under the fo’c’s’le.’
‘Yes, master, of course,’ gasped the castaway, his eyes widening with apprehension. ‘I’ll go at once.’
‘And you’d better stay there until I tell you it’s safe to come out.’
‘Yes, master!’
As the Japanese rose to hurry away, Eden found himself moved by the fearful expression in his eyes, and he dropped a kindly hand on his shoulder. ‘We’re all in danger here, Sentaro. But try to stay calm - I’ll do everything I can to protect you

4
    ON A CLIFFTOP IN the lower reaches of the bay, Prince Tanaka Yoshio stood among a tense group of high-ranking Japanese, watching the American warships move inexorably northward towards Yedo. It was mid-afternoon, and they could see their own Nipponese guard-boats and coastal junks still buzzing like an ineffectual gnat-swarm in the wake of the massive, black-hulled steam frigates. Occasional puffs of smoke continued to rise into the still air as successive warning shots were fired from shore batteries, but nothing interrupted the steady progress of the US Navy squadron.
‘They have already penetrated further into the bay than any other foreign vessel: rasped one scow l ing daimyo as he stared southward towards the distant ships. ‘They must be stopped now by force!’
‘You know it’s impossible for us to halt them by force of arms, Lord Daizo,’ said Tanaka quietly. ‘At present we have no adequate defence against such power.’
‘We have innumerable brave samurai who will fight to their last drop of blood,’