Drank with the devil and forgot my name
inawarminister
Member
Chapter 1: Drank with the devil and forgot my name
Dom Justo Takamaya Ukon
Acapulco de Juárez, New Spain, 1600/01/01 Saturday
I look at my grandsons who are happily playing at the yard with our neighbours, and beyond them, the city full of myriad diverse people - all united under the belief in the Christ. Broad-eyed Spaniards, whether from here at New Spain or refugees from Manila. Native American mestizos and pure-blooded, looking so much like the devil in our homeland. I still remember that day, on the eve of Battle of Yamazaki, to avenge the betrayal and murder of our lord Nobunaga Oda by the wretched Mitsuhide Akechi, when a dark-skinned foreigner in a curious, strange clothing was brought over to us. And then suddenly his magic box chime in perfect - if a bit stilted- Japanese. Forgive me, O Lord, when I should have cut him down right then and there, before he took Hideyoshi Hashiba away with his charms...
“Chichi, are you there? Father Xavier is calling for you - the Governor is holding a meeting.” A melodious voice cuts in on my self-loathing, and I prayed in thanks for that.
It is curious how so similar Manila and Acapulco are, that I almost managed to go the wrong direction - as my legs were automatically walking the route that I used to do almost every day for five whole years. Until the Toyotomi steaming-ships crossed the sea and burned down Manila. Now it’s a Moorish city, again, as the stranger claimed it in the name of his pagan god and his claimed ancestor, Rajah Sulaiman. Thirty years of Spanish enlightened rule was burned down in thirty days as the Audencia had sent most of its soldiers south to suppress the Moors in Mindanao. It is only by God’s will that we survived the conquest as refugees packed the last Galleon almost to full-brim and sailed the four months across the Ocean that have vexed all of my ancestors to here, the New World of faithful Christians. Although, some Manilans do still blame my people for their predicaments.
Governor Pedro de los Rios is a strongly built man with impeccable European taste, and even our meeting was done in the European way. Still, it is clear from the facial expressions of all involved that things are becoming desperate. And indeed, my halting Spanish managed to understand some of that royal order from King Phillip III. RESTORE THE TRADE WITH CHINA is the main order, I think. And that’s quite hard.
“I don’t understand it. Who the hell is this man? How can a Moor hold the loyalty of tens of thousands Chinese- sorry, I mean Japanese? Where did he come from?” The Governor drinks the whole of his glass of wine, then stared flatly at me.
Father Xavier looks pitifully at the governor, before harrumphing to get everyone’s attention. “Lord Pedro, may I help translate Sir Justo explanation? Perhaps it’d be better for him to answer your question in his native language, as it is.”
With the governor’s blessing, I began telling the story.
“Here’s how it began, in the dark hours before we avenge our king, Nobunaga Oda...”
_______________________________________________
Wanli Emperor
Nanjing, Southern Capital, Year of the Pig, Tenth Month, 28th Year of Wanli’s Reign.
I miss the palace in Beijing. It’s already been three years, isn’t it? But that city is too vulnerable to the accursed Woku ships that even now roam the Bohai Sea with no care in the world. Aaah. Time to start this. “Eunuch, tell us of current events in the North and Eastern Sea.” My tired voice boomed across the palace room, as functionaries and soldiers all kneel as the Imperial Court is started.
“My Emperor, the sailors from the South and the Portuguese-barbarians at Macau have reported that Spanish-barbarian city of Manila in the northern Spice Isles had fallen by force of arms to the Eastern barbarians in this last year. Further, another two Korean rebellions have been vanquished with ease in Pyongyang and Seoul. In addition, our bribes to the Manchurians failed to dislodge the occupation at Liaodong.”
I gesture for that eunuch to stand down and called upon the General of the North. He immediately rose to a bow and reported, “The army has been levied in Beijing, my Emperor, with a full million-man ready to march into Choson at your earliest convenience. However, there is an issue with the ships, as our peace treaty with the Easterners forbid concentration of military ships in Tianjin. Still, a full fleet has been gathered in Qingdao, and Admiral Lim has confirmed that the Portuguese had sent six of their greatships to sail with us.”
Good news, at least. Perhaps the fall of their fellow Westerner stronghold to a Hui Japanese general spooked them. It is curious how deep the hatred is between the Hui and the Christians, this far from their own holy lands, but it is usable. Still.. “Remember to never let a Hui officer left alone with the Westerners, General Qin.”
The Court Historian and the other civilian advisors were waiting for me in the usual room. After I let the meeting start though, the advisor on charge of foreign spies almost started shouting, before apologising utterly. Still, his information is alarming.
“My Emperor, the pretender had sent a decree in his mass-printed newspaper that as he has kicked the Spanish out from Asia, soon he will kick Portuguese and force the Japanese ‘Emperor’ to be the sovereign of all Asia.”
“Is that not a declaration of war to us?” I warily responded.
“It is, perhaps he thinks his soldiers have recovered enough for another struggle against the Middle Kingdom. What’s more important though, is that the Hui Malays of Southern Sea have started signing up for his son-in-law.”
“Hmm, yes, the Portuguese is still holding Malacca, the capital of Malays after all. Oh blessed Grandfather, what was your wisdom in allowing it to fall back then?”
Suddenly the jade-crusted door is knocked on by several someone, and when I gesture to the door-slave to open it, it’s General Qin, who immediately kneels.
“My Emperor...! Qingdao is under attack by Devil Ships of iron which are cannon proof! It has fallen three days ago!”
By the Ten Courts of Hell...
Dom Justo Takamaya Ukon
Acapulco de Juárez, New Spain, 1600/01/01 Saturday
I look at my grandsons who are happily playing at the yard with our neighbours, and beyond them, the city full of myriad diverse people - all united under the belief in the Christ. Broad-eyed Spaniards, whether from here at New Spain or refugees from Manila. Native American mestizos and pure-blooded, looking so much like the devil in our homeland. I still remember that day, on the eve of Battle of Yamazaki, to avenge the betrayal and murder of our lord Nobunaga Oda by the wretched Mitsuhide Akechi, when a dark-skinned foreigner in a curious, strange clothing was brought over to us. And then suddenly his magic box chime in perfect - if a bit stilted- Japanese. Forgive me, O Lord, when I should have cut him down right then and there, before he took Hideyoshi Hashiba away with his charms...
“Chichi, are you there? Father Xavier is calling for you - the Governor is holding a meeting.” A melodious voice cuts in on my self-loathing, and I prayed in thanks for that.
It is curious how so similar Manila and Acapulco are, that I almost managed to go the wrong direction - as my legs were automatically walking the route that I used to do almost every day for five whole years. Until the Toyotomi steaming-ships crossed the sea and burned down Manila. Now it’s a Moorish city, again, as the stranger claimed it in the name of his pagan god and his claimed ancestor, Rajah Sulaiman. Thirty years of Spanish enlightened rule was burned down in thirty days as the Audencia had sent most of its soldiers south to suppress the Moors in Mindanao. It is only by God’s will that we survived the conquest as refugees packed the last Galleon almost to full-brim and sailed the four months across the Ocean that have vexed all of my ancestors to here, the New World of faithful Christians. Although, some Manilans do still blame my people for their predicaments.
Governor Pedro de los Rios is a strongly built man with impeccable European taste, and even our meeting was done in the European way. Still, it is clear from the facial expressions of all involved that things are becoming desperate. And indeed, my halting Spanish managed to understand some of that royal order from King Phillip III. RESTORE THE TRADE WITH CHINA is the main order, I think. And that’s quite hard.
“I don’t understand it. Who the hell is this man? How can a Moor hold the loyalty of tens of thousands Chinese- sorry, I mean Japanese? Where did he come from?” The Governor drinks the whole of his glass of wine, then stared flatly at me.
Father Xavier looks pitifully at the governor, before harrumphing to get everyone’s attention. “Lord Pedro, may I help translate Sir Justo explanation? Perhaps it’d be better for him to answer your question in his native language, as it is.”
With the governor’s blessing, I began telling the story.
“Here’s how it began, in the dark hours before we avenge our king, Nobunaga Oda...”
_______________________________________________
Wanli Emperor
Nanjing, Southern Capital, Year of the Pig, Tenth Month, 28th Year of Wanli’s Reign.
I miss the palace in Beijing. It’s already been three years, isn’t it? But that city is too vulnerable to the accursed Woku ships that even now roam the Bohai Sea with no care in the world. Aaah. Time to start this. “Eunuch, tell us of current events in the North and Eastern Sea.” My tired voice boomed across the palace room, as functionaries and soldiers all kneel as the Imperial Court is started.
“My Emperor, the sailors from the South and the Portuguese-barbarians at Macau have reported that Spanish-barbarian city of Manila in the northern Spice Isles had fallen by force of arms to the Eastern barbarians in this last year. Further, another two Korean rebellions have been vanquished with ease in Pyongyang and Seoul. In addition, our bribes to the Manchurians failed to dislodge the occupation at Liaodong.”
I gesture for that eunuch to stand down and called upon the General of the North. He immediately rose to a bow and reported, “The army has been levied in Beijing, my Emperor, with a full million-man ready to march into Choson at your earliest convenience. However, there is an issue with the ships, as our peace treaty with the Easterners forbid concentration of military ships in Tianjin. Still, a full fleet has been gathered in Qingdao, and Admiral Lim has confirmed that the Portuguese had sent six of their greatships to sail with us.”
Good news, at least. Perhaps the fall of their fellow Westerner stronghold to a Hui Japanese general spooked them. It is curious how deep the hatred is between the Hui and the Christians, this far from their own holy lands, but it is usable. Still.. “Remember to never let a Hui officer left alone with the Westerners, General Qin.”
The Court Historian and the other civilian advisors were waiting for me in the usual room. After I let the meeting start though, the advisor on charge of foreign spies almost started shouting, before apologising utterly. Still, his information is alarming.
“My Emperor, the pretender had sent a decree in his mass-printed newspaper that as he has kicked the Spanish out from Asia, soon he will kick Portuguese and force the Japanese ‘Emperor’ to be the sovereign of all Asia.”
“Is that not a declaration of war to us?” I warily responded.
“It is, perhaps he thinks his soldiers have recovered enough for another struggle against the Middle Kingdom. What’s more important though, is that the Hui Malays of Southern Sea have started signing up for his son-in-law.”
“Hmm, yes, the Portuguese is still holding Malacca, the capital of Malays after all. Oh blessed Grandfather, what was your wisdom in allowing it to fall back then?”
Suddenly the jade-crusted door is knocked on by several someone, and when I gesture to the door-slave to open it, it’s General Qin, who immediately kneels.
“My Emperor...! Qingdao is under attack by Devil Ships of iron which are cannon proof! It has fallen three days ago!”
By the Ten Courts of Hell...
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