The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils Read Online Free PDF Page B

that this ronin may have been sent as an assassin?” said Nobunaga. “Some of the northern lords like Uesugi and Takeda see themselves as future rulers of the country. They must want me out of the way.”
    â€œAfter your recent successes, my lord, assassination is a great danger,” said Hambei. He was not trying to flatter his master. He was simply stating a fact. “But I don’t believe that Zenta is an assassin. I’ve worked with him before, and I know his character well. He would rather starve than work for a master he considered unworthy. He told me that he came to Miyako to enlist in your service because you had the best chance of unifying the country.”
    â€œVery gracious of him,” said Nobunaga dryly. “I hope that I can live up to his high expectations.”
    When Pedro went into Father Luis’s study, he found the priest fanning himself with a large folding fan painted brightly with irises in blue, green and gold. It was a gift from Nobunaga, and it looked odd against the dark color of his Jesuit gown. Although it was still early morning, the day already promised to be sweltering, and Father Luis seemed to have decided that the way to cope with Japanese weather was to use a Japanese implement.
    â€œWell, what do you think of our new bodyguards?” Pedro asked.
    The priest took off his spectacles and polished them. Pedro suspected that Father Luis’s eyes were quite good and that he occasionally wore his spectacles because he took a simple pleasure in startling the Japanese with them. At least being called “four eyes” was a change from being called “long-nosed devil.”
    â€œOur bodyguards looked as violent as the men who attacked us,” said the priest and sighed. “What is to stop them from turning their sharp swords on us if they feel like it?”
    â€œThey won’t do that,” protested Pedro. “Loyalty is very important to the samurai. Once they enter our service they won’t turn against us.”
    â€œAh, but what people say and what they do are quite different,” said Father Luis. “The samurai are all so cruel! Remember the man we saw last week who cut off the head of a peasant because he didn’t bow down fast enough?”
    â€œNot all of the samurai are cruel,” said Pedro. He rather liked the two bodyguards and hoped to make them his friends. “That man Zenta could have killed his opponent yesterday, but instead he only cut off the man’s topknot. It was a feat much more difficult to perform.”
    â€œHis skill with the sword proves that he is a man of war at heart,” said the priest. “The common people in Japan are the gentlest and most courteous in the world, but the warriors are like another race. I sometimes wonder if I shall ever make Christians of them.”
    Pedro knew what Father Luis meant. He had once seen a samurai use his sword on a man just to test its sharpness. But he also found much to admire in the warrior class. The best of the samurai had a very strict code of honor, and they possessed a personal integrity often superior to that of the warlords who employed them.
    â€œThere is cruelty in Europe as well,” Pedro pointed out. “I have seen Protestants and Catholics slaughtering each other, and I have seen babies hacked to pieces in front of their mothers’ eyes.” He had served as a mercenary soldier in the religious wars ravaging Europe, and some of the atrocities had sickened him.
    â€œRooting out heresy is not a matter for us to question, Pedro,” said Father Luis heavily. His glance was both affectionate and anxious. “I know that you are devout, in spite of the bluff soldierly manner you like to put on. But Pedro, you should watch your tongue when you return to Europe. Otherwise you might be suspected of heresy.”
    â€œIn that case I may decide to remain in Japan,” said Pedro lightly. “I can make my