Read The Fifth Profession Online
Authors: David Morrell
WARNER BOOKS EDITION
Copyright © 1990 by David Morrell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
The following publishers have given permission to use quotations from copyrighted works:
I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry.
Written by Hank Williams © 1949, renewed 1977. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., and Hiriam Music. Used by permission. International copyright secured. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jesse Sanchez
Cover photo by Herman Estevez
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Originally published in hardcover by Warner Books
First eBook Edition: April 1991
ISBN: 978-0-446-55329-2
Contents
PROLOGUE:: PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE
EPILOGUE:: THE KEY TO THE MAZE
CRITICAL ACCLAIM for The Fifth Profession
“Hard to put down. Morrell is a master of the hunter-hunted suspense subgenre.”
—Houston Chronicle
“Fast-paced … powerful narrative flow … bound to pull in many readers.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Morrell's writing is, as usual, intelligent, dynamic and lucid, and the fascinating story comes through clearly.”
—Boston Herald
“Twists, combined with well-placed action and a very lean style, make this one a real page-turner …
The Fifth Profession
is a book certain to have readers promising themselves ‘just one more chapter’ well into the night.”
—The Baltimore Sun
“A taut tale … titillates the imagination of the most seasoned reader.”
—Dallas Times Herald
“On every level, this one's a winner … filled with the kind of action and suspense readers might expect from the author of
First Blood,
but even those who generally prefer their fiction in a more sedate form will find themselves drawn into its complicated story and memorable characterizations.”
—West Coast Review of Books
“An excellent blend of espionage and horror, and the tangled web of intrigue gradually unravels to reveal the mix of modern Japanese political ideology with the samurai tradition.”
—Rocky Mountain News
“Action-packed…. If you liked Rambo, you'll love Savage.”
—Kansas City Star
ALSO BY DAVID MORRELL
F
ICTION
First Blood
(1972)
Testament
(1975)
Last Reveille
(1977)
The Totem
(1979)
Blood Oath
(1982)
The Hundred-Year Christmas
(1983)*
The Brotherhood of the Rose
(1984)
The Fraternity of the Stone
(1985)
The League of Night and Fog
(1987)
The Covenant of the Flame
(1991)
Assumed Identity
(1993)
Desperate Measures
(1994)
The Totem (Complete and Unaltered)
(1994)*
Extreme Denial
(1996)
Double Image
(1998)
Black Evening
(1999)
Burnt Sienna
(2000)
N
ONFICTION
John Barth: An Introduction
(1976)
Fireflies
(1988)
* Limited edition. With illustrations. Donald M. Grant, Publisher, Hamption Falls, New Hampshire.
To Sarie: daughter,friend
“I don't understand you,” said Alice. “It's dreadfully confusing.”
“That's the effect of living backwards,” the Queen said kindly. “It always makes one a little giddy at first.”
“Living backwards!” Alice repeated in great astonishment. “I never heard of such a thing!”
“But there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both ways.”
“I'm sure
mine
only works one way,” Alice remarked. “I can't remember things before they happen.”
“It's a poor sort of memory that only works backward,” the Queen remarked.
—L
EWIS
C
ARROLL
Through the Looking-Glass
The Way of the bodyguard is resolute acceptance of death.
—M
IYAMOTO
M
USASHI
a seventeenth-century samurai
PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE
THE FIFTH PROFESSION
No single historical event marks the origin of Savage's profession. The skill to which he devoted himself has its antecedents prior to fact in the haze of myth. At the start, there were hunters, then farmers, then with something to be gained by barter, prostitutes and politicians. Given some debate about precedence, those are the first four human endeavors.
But as soon as something can be gained, it must also be protected. Hence Savage's—the
fifth
—profession. Although his craft's inception has not been documented, two incidents illustrate its valiant traditions.
THE
COMITATUS
When the Anglo-Saxons invaded Britain four hundred years after Christ, they brought with them a Germanic code of absolute loyalty to a tribal chieftain. In its ultimate interpretation, this code required a chieftain's retainers or
comitatus
to defend him with their honor unto death. One of the most gripping instances of warriors displaying such total commitment to their lord occurred on the shore of the Blackwater River near the town of Maldon in Essex in 991.
Scandinavian pirates, having raided ports along the eastern coast of Britain, camped on an island that during low tide was linked to the shore by a narrow causeway. The local British chieftain, Birhtnoth, led his faithful
comitatus
to the causeway and ordered the Vikings not to cross. The enemy defied him.
Swords flashed. Blood soaked the causeway. As the battle intensified, one of Birhtnoth's apprentice soldiers turned cowardly and fled. Others supposed that the retreating figure was Birhtnoth himself and fled as well. Only Birhtnoth and his bodyguards remained.
A javelin struck him. He yanked it out and stabbed his assailant. A Viking ax cut off his sword arm. Helpless, he was slashed to pieces. But although Birhtnoth no longer ruled, his faithful
comitatus
persisted. To protect his corpse, to avenge his death, they attacked with greater valor. Their deaths were brutal, yet joyous because the
comitatus
adhered to their code of loyalty.
The original Anglo-Saxon document that describes their heroic defeat concludes in this manner:
Godric often let his spear fly, thrusting his slaughter-shaft toward the Vikings. Bravely he advanced among his brethren, hewed and laid low till he died in the struggle. He was not that Godric who ran from the battle.
Those two Godrics represent the principal conflict in Savage's profession. To protect was the mandate of the
comitatus.
But at what point, if the cause seemed hopeless, if the chieftain was dead, should a bodyguard protect himself? Whenever Savage debated this moral issue, he remembered Akira and an incident from a quite different culture that illustrated the extreme traditions of the fifth and most noble profession.
THE FORTY-SEVEN
RONIN
In Japan, the equivalent of the
comitatus
were the samurai. These protective warriors came into prominence eleven hundred years after Christ when provincial chieftains, known as
daimyo,
needed fiercely loyal bodyguards to control their domains. Over the centuries, a central military ruler, called a
shogun,
exerted power over each
daimyo.
Nonetheless each
daimyo
‘s samurai felt bonded to their local lord. In 1701, against this complex background of loyalties, an incident occurred that formed the basis for one of the most famous Japanese legends.
Three
daimyo
were summoned to the
shogun's
court in Edo (now called Tokyo) with orders to pledge allegiance. However, these
daimyo
had little knowledge of court manners. Two of the three sought help from an expert in court etiquette. They bribed him with gifts and were rewarded with advice.
But the remaining
daimyo,
Lord Asano, was too innocent to bribe the etiquette instructor, Lord Kira. Kira felt insulted and ridiculed Asano in the
shogun's
presence. Humiliated, Asano had no alternative except to defend his honor. He drew his sword and wounded Kira.
To draw a sword in the
shogun's
presence was a grievous crime. The
shogun
commanded Asano to atone by disemboweling himself. The
daimyo
obeyed. Still, his death did not solve the controversy. Now Asano's samurai were bound by the rigorous code of
giri,
which loosely translated means “the burden of obligation,” to avenge their master's death by destroying the man who'd begun the chain of insults, Lord Kira.
So compulsory was the code of
giri
that the
shogun
assumed there'd be more bloodshed. To end the feud, he sent his warriors to surround Asano's castle and demand the surrender of Asano's samurai. Inside the castle Oishi Yoshio, the captain of Asano's samurai, held council with his men. Some favored resisting the
shogun's
warriors. Others advocated committing ritual suicide as had their lord. But Oishi sensed that the majority felt their obligation had ended with their master's death. As a test, he offered them the option of dividing Asano's wealth among them. Many unworthy warriors eagerly chose this option. Oishi paid them and urged them to leave. Of more than three hundred samurai, only forty-seven remained. With these, Oishi made a pact, each cutting a finger and joining hands, sealing the pact with their blood.
The forty-seven surrendered to the
shogun's
warriors and claimed to disavow any obligation they felt to
giri
and their dead lord. They pretended to accept their lot as
ronin,
masterless samurai, wanderers. Each traveled his separate way.
But the
shogun
—suspicious—sent spies to follow them, to insure that the feud had ended. To deceive the spies, each
ronin
bitterly engaged in unworthy conduct. Some became drunkards, others whoremongers. One sold his wife into prostitution. Another killed his father-in-law. Still another arranged for his sister to become a mistress of the hated Lord Kira. Permitting their swords to rust and themselves to be spat upon, all appeared to wallow in dishonor. At last, after two years, the
shogun's
spies were convinced that the feud had ended. The
shogun
removed surveillance from the
ronin.
In 1703, the forty-seven
ronin
regrouped and attacked Kira's castle. With long-repressed rage, they slaughtered their enemy's unsuspecting guards, tracked down and beheaded the man they so loathed, then washed the head and made a pilgrimage to Asano's grave, placing the head on the tomb of their now-avenged master.
The chain of obligation had not yet ended. In obeying the burden of
giri,
the
ronin
had violated the
shogun's
command to stop their vendetta. One code of honor conflicted with another. Only one solution was acceptable. The
shogun
dictated. The
ronin
obeyed. In triumph, they impaled their bowels with their swords, drawing each blade from left to right, then fiercely upward, in the noble ritual of suicide called
seppuku.
The tombs of the forty-seven
ronin
are revered to this day, a Japanese monument.