Samurai William [antikvár]

Prologue They had reached the end of the world. A tremendous storm had pushed them deep into the unknown, where the maps and globes showed only monsters of the deep. The night sky sparkled with oriental brilliance, but the unfamiliar stars had proved a mischievous guide to these lost and lonely adventurers. For almost two years, William Adams and his crew had braved wild and tempestuous oceans. They had clashed with spear-toting island chieftains, and suffered from sickness and empty bellies. Now, on 12 April 1600, these few survivors had once again sighted land, where they expected death at the hands of some barbarous savage. The bell of the great Manju-ji monastery clanged at dawn. As the weak spring sunlight spilled over the southern mountains, a dozen temples added a noisy echo. It was already light on the watery delta of the Oita river, but night still lingered in the palaces and pagodas of Funai. Their cuneiform roofs trapped the shadows and it would be several hours before daylight pierced the grid-like maze of walkways. The strange vessel that was drifting helplessly into the harbour was in a terrible state of repair. Her sails were