Sisters of the Sword (16 page)

Without warning, Ken-ichi's foot flashed out in front of Tatsuya and suddenly Tatsuya was falling. He tried to save himself by putting out his hand, but his body collapsed awkwardly and his arm bore the whole weight of the fall. As he landed, he cried out, the harsh sound echoing around the courtyard, and kneeled very still, clasping his shoulder. His face was white with pain.

Instantly Ken-ichi bowed apologetically. “So sorry,” he said. “How clumsy of me!”

Clumsy?
I thought in a blaze of anger as I hurried across to crouch at Tatsuya's side. Ken-ichi was never clumsy. This had been something else. He'd hated it
last night when Master Goku said Tatsuya was the most improved student at the dojo. Terrified that Tatsuya might beat him in the archery competition, Ken-ichi had obviously decided to eliminate him. He certainly was his father's son.

“Are you all right?” I whispered to Tatsuya.

He shook his head. “My shoulder is in agony,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

I tried to help him sit more comfortably. Around us, the crowd had been still for a moment. But now a few people hissed their disapproval at Ken-ichi.

“Dishonorable conduct!” a man in blue silk robes exclaimed.

Ken-ichi glanced up, swept the crowd with his arrogant gaze. “What?” he cried. “Surely you don't think—?” Disbelief swept across his face and he held his hands wide, palms upward, the picture of injured innocence. “It was an accident!”

But I didn't believe him, nor did the crowd. As a couple of older students hurried out to help Tatsuya out of the arena, a few people in the audience began to thump rhythmically on their wooden benches. A restless muttering began to buzz through the air.

I heard a farmer say, “That was clearly deliberate,” while a woman cried, “Sabotage!”

Master Goku slowly walked forward to the edge
of the platform and raised his hands for silence. A muscle flickered in his cheek as he stared down at Ken-ichi. I straightened up, holding my breath. Was my cousin going to get away with his behavior? The thought made me boil up in outrage.

“I saw what you did, and it was no accident,” Master Goku said to Ken-ichi. “You have deliberately injured a fellow student and prevented him from competing. This action brings dishonor upon yourself and upon the dojo.” He folded his hands inside his sleeves. “Therefore, you are disqualified from this tournament. Please step out of the arena, Kenichi.”

Relief swept through me. This was justice.

“No!” Ken-ichi cried, stepping toward the platform. “That's not fair….”

But Master Goku stood firm. “Step out of the arena, Ken-ichi,” he said again.

Ken-ichi stayed where he was, a rebellious expression on his face. “I'm the
Jito
's son,” he said. “No one can stop me from competing. Not even you, Sensei.” He turned to look at Lord Hidehira. “Father,” he appealed. “Tell him—”

Lord Hidehira stared down at his son. His dark eyes glittered like black ice. “I will tell him nothing!” he snapped. “You are a fool, Ken-ichi. A stupid, childish puppy!”

Ken-ichi turned white with horror. “Father, I beg you!”

Lord Hidehira ignored him and turned to Master Goku. “A thousand apologies for this boy's conduct, Master Goku. Punish him as you see fit.” Both men bowed low to each other, and when Hidehira straightened up his face was tightly controlled. He faced Master Goku for a moment longer, then he said, “I regret that I can no longer be the judge of this tournament because I have been shamed by the conduct of my son. I must leave now, and beg your forgiveness for any loss of face that Ken-ichi has brought upon your dojo.”

I gazed in astonishment at Lord Hidehira as he swept across the platform, down the steps, and toward a troop of waiting samurai. My heart sank hopelessly as I realized my plan to challenge him openly had been foiled. Heads turned as the crowd watched him go, a breathless silence falling on the assembly. I caught Hana's eye. She was standing at the edge of the competitors' waiting area, her fists clenched as she watched the scene unfold. I wanted to go stand with her, but I didn't dare draw attention to myself.

Ken-ichi stayed where he was for a moment, then suddenly he launched himself forward, running after his father. “Father!” he cried. “Don't leave! What
happened was right and just. That boy, Tatsuya, is a peasant! You've always said that the peasants should be kept in their place….”

Lord Hidehira wheeled around and glared at his son. “Your behavior would shame a peasant,” he said, his voice tight with fury. “You have heaped shame upon me and disgraced the name of Yamamoto. From this day, you are no longer the son of the
Jito
!”

A gasp went up from the crowd. Hana and I exchanged a startled glance.

Ken-ichi gaped at his father in horror. “No!” he cried. But it was too late. In a swirl of red and gold robes, Uncle disappeared into the midst of his waiting soldiers.

Desperate, Ken-ichi stumbled forward, but the ranks of samurai closed behind his father, hands on the hilts of their swords. I had no doubt that they would cut him down if they had to.

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Ken-ichi wheeled around to stare at Master Goku. “This is your fault!” he said, his lips white with fury. “You did this…you accepted that stinking peasant into this school. He should never have been allowed to train among us.”

“All students are equal,” Master Goku said, and he began to turn away. “Calm yourself, Ken-ichi.”

“I will not be calm,” Ken-ichi spluttered. Leaping up the steps and onto the platform, he stood eye to eye with Master Goku. “I challenge you!” he said fiercely. “I challenge you to fight me, Sensei.”

The crowd gasped. A challenge like that, once issued, could not be retracted. Astounded, I stared up at Ken-ichi. Hana put her hand up to her mouth.

One of the students beside me shook his head. “No one has challenged the Master for years,” he muttered.

“I do not accept your challenge,” Master Goku said.

“You must,” Ken-ichi said staunchly. “I know the code of the
bushi
. No honorable challenge can be refused!”

There was silence for a moment; then Master Goku bowed. “So be it,” he said, so quietly that I had to strain my ears to hear him. “But I urge you to allow a period of reflection and conversation before we choose our weapons. Will you come with me to the meditation room?”

Ken-ichi hesitated for a moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “But don't imagine that you're going to talk me out of this duel. I fight for the honor of this school and the right to be educated with my own kind—not with filthy peasants!”

“I hear what you say,” Master Goku said. With a
sweep of his long robes, he made his way down from the platform and out of the courtyard.

Ken-ichi followed behind him, but as he drew near to Choji he growled at the head servant, “Bring us some
cha
.”

Choji glanced at Master Goku, his eyebrows raised as if unsure whether he should take orders from the disowned son of the
Jito
.

Master Goku nodded. “Tea will refresh us,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Choji.”

As they left the courtyard, the crowd stirred restlessly. Choji signaled to me. “Take the tea to the meditation room, Kagenashi,” he said. “And stay with Sensei in case he needs anything else.”

I hurried across to Hana, who helped me unlace my sleeve armor and shoulder guards. “Ken-ichi doesn't know what he's doing,” she whispered. “It's madness to challenge Master Goku!”

My mind was in turmoil. The tournament was in chaos, and so was my plan to win and face Uncle openly.

By the time I got to the meditation room, Kenichi and Master Goku were kneeling opposite each other. I bowed and approached the table with my tray of drinking bowls. Master Goku seemed hardly to notice me. He was composed and calm, his gaze resting lightly on Ken-ichi's face. By contrast, my
cousin simmered with rage. His shoulders were tense, his fists clenched.

I set the tray on the table between them, bowed, and withdrew to a corner of the room to wait.

“Ken-ichi, please pour the
cha
,” Master Goku said.

“The student must serve the Master,” Ken-ichi muttered. His lip curled. “You're thinking that perhaps this will calm me down. Well, it won't, Sensei. Someone has to stand up for honor, duty, and tradition, and if I'm to be the one—so be it!”

“You speak so freely of such ideals,” Master Goku said gently. “But you forget that a samurai is also bound by other rules. He must be humble; he must control his pride; and above all he must show tolerance of his fellow men.” He watched as Ken-ichi reached out to put green tea powder into the bowls. “I'm sorry that your father spoke so angrily to you. Would you like me to intercede?”

“No!” Ken-ichi's hands shook and the sleeves of his kimono fluttered across the rims of the tea bowls, almost tipping them. “I don't want you to do anything on my behalf, Sensei. We will fight, and then my father will see that I'm worthy to be his son once more…and my honor will be restored!” As he said this, Ken-ichi caught Master Goku's gaze with his own and held it. His usual grace and elegance seemed to have deserted him, and his hands
fumbled clumsily as he added more tea to the bowls.

He's nervous,
I thought.
More than nervous, he's frightened
. But that was hardly surprising. Ken-ichi had challenged Master Goku to a duel—a duel he would certainly lose.

I gazed at my cousin sadly. There was no honor to be gained from fighting the Master.

“Your father would think you a worthy son if you behaved like a samurai,” Master Goku said. “Accept responsibility for your actions. Apologize to Tatsuya, and put this episode behind you.”

“Apologize to that peasant?” Ken-ichi spat. “Never!” He picked up a tea bowl and held it between his fingers, offering to Master Goku. “Drink your
cha
, Sensei. And we'll toast your good health.”

Master Goku accepted the tea bowl, bowed, and sipped. “This is a little bitter, Ken-ichi. Too much powder perhaps?”

Ken-ichi shrugged, watching as Master Goku sipped again. “Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps you taste the bile of your own disappointment, Sensei. It must be galling to have had your precious tournament cut short.”

“I am disappointed with you, Ken-ichi. Nothing else,” Master Goku said. He sipped again and then drained the bowl. “I give you one last chance to change your mind about the duel.”

Ken-ichi shook his head and scrambled to his feet, his tea untouched.

“A samurai never changes his mind,” he said. I knew that there was no going back when Ken-ichi spoke again. “Choose your weapon, Sensei!”

M
aster Goku sighed. “If you insist, Kenichi. I choose the
yari
spear, an ancient and noble weapon of the battlefield.” With that, he rose to his feet and led Ken-ichi out of the meditation room.

I paused to quickly tidy the table, wiping the tea bowls clean. One of them had green, gritty residue at the bottom and I frowned. How strange—green tea powder didn't usually leave a residue…. I sniffed the bowl, noticing a bitter smell.

Perhaps the green tea wasn't very good quality? Who knew where it was coming from, what with all the food shortages since Uncle took over as
Jito
.

I stacked the bowls carefully, leaving the table neat before I hurried back outside.

In the fight arena, the crowd seemed to have grown larger, as though word had spread outside the dojo and people were coming from nearby to witness the duel between Master and student.
As they went to get their weapons, I hurried back to my place and found Tatsuya sitting with Hana, who was massaging his shoulder through his kimono. Ko was kneeling beside them.

“Are you badly hurt?” I asked Tatsuya.

He shook his head. “I must have sprained my shoulder when I landed awkwardly. It hurts, but it's nothing that a few days' rest won't fix.”

Down in the arena, Master Goku was taking off his flowing ceremonial robes and handing them to Choji. Soon he was wearing just an undershirt and breeches, his feet bare on the sandy floor of the courtyard. Ken-ichi stood facing him, looking bulky in his shoulder armor and leather arm protectors. He was dressed for archery, not close combat.

“Surely it's not fair for Ken-ichi to wear so much armor,” I muttered as Choji brought forward their
yari
.

“Don't worry,” Tatsuya reassured me. “the Master knows what he's doing. No armor means he's lighter on his feet. He'll be able to dance around Ken-ichi and tire him out.”

The spears were perhaps four feet long, the type usually carried into battle by samurai on horseback. Each had a wooden shaft covered in lacquered bamboo strips, wrapped in wire at intervals with a heavy steel pommel at the blunt end. The blades
were straight, flat, steel daggers, razor sharp for cutting and stabbing.

A murmur rose from the crowd and people edged closer to the fight arena, keen to get a good view.

The crowd fell silent as the two combatants bowed and took up their fighting stances. Master Goku's gaze was steady, watching Ken-ichi alertly…and then the fight began.

Ken-ichi lunged forward, spear glittering in the sunshine. Master Goku blocked, and the clash of iron blades tore the air. Then Ken-ichi was leaping sideways, lunging again, and then again. Master Goku defended with skill and speed, using his body in harmony with the spear. His torso weaved back and forth as he met every move with an expert deflection.

Around me the men and women in the crowd gasped and sighed as Ken-ichi unleashed one stinging attack after another, his spear whirling, his arms flashing like the spokes of a wheel. I clenched my fists, watching intently.

My cousin was as skillful with a
yari
as he had been with his sword that day I had fought him outside the gates of the dojo. But it could never be enough to best his teacher.

Master Goku began to move faster, his feet kicking up arcs of white sand. The noise from the crowd
intensified and expanded, breaking in a wave against the stone walls of the courtyard.

Goku deflected each one of Ken-ichi's attempts and did not once try to attack his student. the Master's superior skill was clear for all to see.

How would this fight end? Ken-ichi looked like he would never give up, but surely Goku wouldn't really injure Ken-ichi….

But then, Ken-ichi flexed his knees, coming in with a low slice that only just missed Goku's stomach. My heart began to beat harder.

“Ken-ichi seems to be getting closer to a strike,” I murmured to Hana.

She bit her lip, her gaze fixed on Master Goku. Abruptly she reached sideways and grabbed my sleeve. “Something's wrong!” Her voice was a low and urgent whisper.

“What do you mean?” I asked. My fists were clenched so tight that I could feel my nails driving into my palms as I watched Goku swing into a sudden attack.

But my sister shook her head. “Watch Sensei,” she said. “He's slower than usual.”

I followed her gaze and at first I couldn't see what she meant. Master Goku's spear sliced sideways and upward. He was driving Ken-ichi relentlessly backward. A murmur of voices rose from the crowd. Some of the students leaped to their feet, yelling
encouragement to Master Goku. Nobody seemed to be cheering for Ken-ichi, who was buckling under the onslaught. Everything about his movements spoke of defeat.

But then Goku missed a beat. Instead of striking into Ken-ichi's center, Goku's jab went wide.

Ken-ichi took the advantage and struck back, the shaft of his spear clanging against Goku's. They struck and parried, struck again, and I saw that Master Goku
was
slowing down, as though his limbs were suddenly too heavy. A strange look washed across his face. He frowned in confusion, brought his spear up to catch a glancing blow from Ken-ichi, and shook his head as if to clear it.

“He looks like one of Father's samurai looks after drinking too much sake,” Hana murmured.

Master Goku stepped forward to attack again, missed his footing, and slumped to one knee. Hana was right. He looked like he was drunk.
What was wrong with him?

The crowd gasped, and someone yelled, “Come on, Sensei! On your feet.”

“What's the matter, Master?” Ken-ichi taunted loudly. “Getting too
old
to fight a mere student?”

In the arena, Ken-ichi danced toward Master Goku, launching a sudden, vicious kick that knocked the Master to the ground.

“Get up!” Tatsuya called urgently.

But Master Goku lay there on his back in the sand, looking dazed. Ken-ichi stood over him for a moment. “Do you yield?” he asked, his voice tight.

The crowd waited breathlessly, and at last Master Goku shook his head. “I will never yield to you.” He rolled sideways and came up onto his knees, then launched a sluggish attack with his spear. Ken-ichi parried it effortlessly. Goku's momentum sent him stumbling to the ground.

“Do you yield?” Ken-ichi demanded again, aiming his spear at the Master. His voice was louder this time, as if he was sure of victory and he wanted everyone to know it.

“Never!” Master Goku said again. Pain and fatigue were etched across his face and suddenly he looked like an old man. His gaze slipped sideways and for a heartbeat, his eyes made contact with mine.

This isn't right,
I thought. Suddenly my mind raced back to that day up behind the bathhouse, when Ken-ichi had talked about slipping poison into drinks.

My skin prickled with dread. Hadn't there been a gritty residue in the bottom of the tea bowls when I wiped them?

And hadn't Master Goku complained of the
cha
tasting bitter?

Ken-ichi must have poisoned him!

I launched myself forward, desperately elbowing through the crowd to get to Master Goku. People got in my way, pushing at me in confusion. “Please,” I begged, my voice raw and savage. “Let me through.”

Through the press of the crowd I could see the Master struggling to rise to his feet once more. His movements were listless and heavy, but his face was stubborn. I knew in my heart that he would keep on getting up until whatever it was that Ken-ichi had put in his
cha
finally stopped his heart beating.

Ken-ichi knocked Master Goku down for a third time. Caught between two farmers, I watched as my cousin reached down and wrenched the Master's spear from his grasp.

He flipped it over, and then held the point lightly to Master Goku's chest. “Yield,” he said.

“No.”
Goku was panting for breath now, his face the color of ash and his lips blue. He reached up and gripped the spear's shining blade. “You have not won this fight fairly, Ken-ichi—”

“Silence!” Ken-ichi roared. “And yield to my honorable victory!”

“There is no honor left in you,” Goku gasped, and I could see panic spread across Ken-ichi's face. “You have—”

Before the Master could say another word, my cousin brought his
yari
spear plunging down.

“No!” I yelled, and shoved the people in front of me out of the way with all my strength. As I broke through the crowd, my spirit broke once again.

Ken-ichi had stabbed Master Goku through the heart.