The Way Of The Sword (31 page)

‘I’m serious,’ Yamato persisted. ‘Dokugan Ryu thinks Jack is dead. We can take him by surprise.’

‘No,’ countered Akiko. ‘You can never surprise a ninja. They’re trained in laying traps. Dragon Eye would instinctively sense that something’s wrong.’

‘Why would he?’ said Yamato. ‘Besides if we don’t get him now, he’ll just go after Jack again.’

‘We should move the
rutter
first,’ Jack suggested, warming to Yamato’s plan. ‘We have the Circle of Three celebration tonight at
daimyo
Takatomi’s castle. We can slip out during the proceedings and hide it elsewhere before Dragon Eye gets his hands on it.’

‘That’s if he hasn’t already got it,’ said Akiko, shaking her head in despair. ‘This isn’t a training game. This is real. The Circle hasn’t suddenly made you invincible, Jack. Though Dragon Eye seems to be. He keeps escaping every time and no one’s ever defeated him. What makes you think you can now?’

‘That’s
my
point: until we kill him, he’ll always be a threat,’ argued Yamato fervently.

‘Why are you so fixed on this foolish idea of a trap? It’s plain suicide,’ said Akiko. ‘It’s like you’ve got something to prove.’

‘I have!’ said Yamato, clenching his fists, his blood boiling as he got more worked up. ‘Jack’s not the only one who wants revenge. Dokugan Ryu killed my brother, Tenno. Remember? Upholding the Masamoto family honour requires that the ninja dies. This
is
my best chance to prove myself.’

Yamato’s thunderous mood, the one Jack knew so well from when he was on the receiving end, appeared to be consuming his friend.

‘Calm down, Yamato,’ interjected Jack, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

‘Calm down?’ exploded Yamato, snatching his arm away. ‘Of all the samurai, I thought you’d understand. He murdered your father as he did my brother. Dragon Eye’s not all about you and your precious
rutter
, Jack. I feel pain too. Every day. It’s just that I don’t have anything that ninja still wants. He’s already taken the only brother I had from me!’

A tense silence fell between the three of them.

Jack felt ashamed. He hadn’t ever considered Yamato’s situation that way before. He’d always been concerned with his own predicament, working out ways he could safely get home without the need for Masamoto’s protection, worrying about what had become of his little sister, mourning his father’s death and wondering how he could defend himself against Dragon Eye. Yamato would be suffering as much as he was. He’d lost his own flesh and blood too.

‘I didn’t think…’ began Jack.

‘I’m sorry…’ said Akiko, bowing.

Yamato held up his hand in peace, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself.

‘Forget it. I’m sorry I let my temper get the better of me.’ He bowed his apologies to both Jack and Akiko. ‘We shouldn’t be fighting with one another like this. We should be fighting Dragon Eye. He’s the cause of it all. Always has been.’

‘Don’t you think it’s time,’ suggested Akiko, ‘that we told Masamoto about the
rutter
?’

• • *
    

Jack knelt before Masamoto, Sensei Hosokawa and Sensei Yamada in the Hall of the Phoenix, the silk-screen painting of the flaming bird rising up behind them like an avenging angel.

‘I was delighted with your performance in the Circle of Three, Jack-kun,’ said Masamoto, putting down his cup of
sencha
and gazing at Jack with admiration. ‘As my adopted son, I am as proud of you as your father would have been.’

Jack had to blink back tears at the mention of his father and the unexpected affection displayed by his guardian. Throughout his time at the samurai school, Jack had missed the encouragement and support his father would have given him. Whether it was a sly wink of approval, or a piece of advice, or just his father enveloping him in arms as strong as the ocean. Those were the precious moments that had been absent in his life over the past two years.

‘You completed the Circle challenges with the true
bushido
virtues of loyalty, rectitude and courage,’ continued Masamato, ‘so I look forward to personally instructing you in the technique of the Two Heavens.’

Jack’s heart leapt. Finally, he would get to use Masamoto’s swords. At last, he was to be taught this unbeatable skill.

‘But now to the heart of this meeting,’ said Masamoto, his tone turning serious. ‘Is there something you wish to tell me?’

Jack was taken aback by the question. How could he know?

Akiko, Yamato and himself had been discussing whether to raise the issue of the
rutter
with Masamoto, when Jack had received the summons to go to the Hall of the Phoenix to see Masamoto. Before Jack left for this unexpected appointment, the three of them had agreed that they should tell Masamoto about the existence of the
rutter
. Jack realized the consequences of this could be severe and had insisted that Akiko and Yamato remain behind. There was no reason for them to be punished too. He would deny his friends’ involvement, maintaining they had no knowledge of the logbook.

Following such praise and assertions of fatherly pride from Masamoto, a wave of guilt now replaced the elation Jack had been feeling. He was ashamed to have to admit to his guardian that he’d lied to him.

‘Thank you, Masamoto-sama, for your kind words,’ began Jack, bowing low, ‘but I don’t deserve them.’

Masamoto leant forward, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. ‘Why ever not?’

‘I know why the ninja attacked us in the Iga mountains. It was Dragon Eye. He was after me. Or, to tell the truth, after my father’s
rutter
.’

‘What’s a
rutter
?’ asked Sensei Hosokawa.

Jack told the three of them about the logbook, describing how pilots used it to navigate their ships, and explaining the
rutter’
s importance to trade and politics among the countries of Europe.

‘I’m sorry, Masamoto-sama, but I lied to you,’ Jack confessed. ‘The reason why Dragon Eye attacked Hiroko’s house in Toba was because of the
rutter
. I should have told you at the time, but I’d made a promise to my father to keep it secret. I didn’t know who to trust and then I was worried if you had the
rutter
, you’d become the target for Dragon Eye, rather than me.’

Masamoto stared at Jack. His stony expression gave little away, but Jack noticed the scars on his face had begun to redden. Sensei Hosokawa’s expression was equally severe. Sensei Yamada was the only one who looked kindly upon Jack, his eyes crinkling in sympathy at Jack’s predicament.

‘We will have to deal with this matter tomorrow,’ declared Masamoto tersely. ‘Unfortunately there’s a more pressing issue to be discussed first.’

Jack wondered what could be worse than breaking the fifth virtue of
bushido
by lying to his guardian.

Masamoto nodded to Sensei Hosokawa. The swordmaster picked up a large scroll of paper and passed it to Jack.

‘Explain this!’ demanded Masamoto.

Jack stared at the paper. It was the size of a poster with
kanji
scrawled across it. Having been taught the basics of Japanese handwriting by Akiko, Jack recognized his name among the characters.

‘What is it?’ Jack asked.

The three samurai exchanged confused looks.

‘It’s a challenge declaration,’ replied Masamoto, as if that explained everything.

Jack continued to stare in bewilderment at the scroll.

‘You may have succeeded in the Circle of Three, but your confidence in your abilities may be somewhat misguided,’ observed Sensei Hosokawa grimly. ‘What on earth made you think of entering into a sword duel with an unknown samurai on his
musha shugyo
?’

Jack looked up in shock at the sensei. Surely they were playing a joke on him. The grave expression on their faces, however, told him otherwise.

‘I… didn’t enter any duel,’ stammered Jack.

‘Your name’s down here, claiming to be the Great Blond Samurai,’ replied Sensei Hosokawa, pointing at the
kanji
. ‘Sasaki Bishamon, the samurai in question, has accepted your challenge. You are expected in the duelling ground before sunset tonight.’

Jack was stunned into silence. This couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t written his name down for any challenge. He had no wish to risk his life duelling with a samurai just to prove whose martial arts were the best. And certainly not against a warrior named after the God of War.

His only intention was to retrieve the
rutter
. That was if Masamoto still allowed him to go to Nijo Castle tonight for the Circle of Three celebration. His guardian may have suspended judgement on the issue of the
rutter
until the following day, but the threat of it hung over Jack like a guillotine.

Now Jack had the prospect of a duel to contend with too.

‘I didn’t write this,’ insisted Jack, his eyes pleading. ‘I can’t fight this samurai.’

Jack’s mind whirled in panic. Such a duel could end in him losing a limb, or even in death. Who could have done such a thing?

Kazuki.

The boy had vowed he would get his revenge. This was it. Jack had to admire his rival’s genius, though. It was so neat, so Kazuki.

‘If not you, then who?’ asked Masamoto.

Jack was about to blurt out Kazuki’s name, when he remembered how he had falsely accused his rival of cheating in the Circle. How wrong he had been then. He could be as mistaken in his judgement this time, jumping to conclusions based solely on his own prejudices.

Jack looked to the floor and slowly shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘In that case, we are presented with a difficult dilemma,’ said Masamoto, taking a thoughtful sip of his
sencha
. ‘Your name and the name of this school have been seen on this challenge declaration around Kyoto. If you pull out of the duel now, you will bring shame not only on yourself, but on the Masamoto name and on the
Niten Ichi Ryū
.’

‘Can’t you explain that it was a mistake?’ pleaded Jack.

‘It would make no difference. Your challenge has been accepted.’

‘But surely I’m too young to fight a duel?’

‘How old are you?’ asked Sensei Hosokawa.

‘Fourteen this month,’ replied Jack with hope.

‘I fought my first duel at thirteen,’ reminisced Masamoto with a hint of pride. ‘Against one Arima Kibei, a famous swordsman back then. He too put up a sign appealing for challengers. I was an impetuous boy at the time, so naturally put my name down. In fact, I see a great deal of myself in you, Jack-kun. At least, sometimes. That’s why, I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t actually issue the challenge; and even more disappointed that I find out you’ve been lying to me.’

Jack felt his cheeks flush with shame and could no longer meet his guardian’s eyes.

‘But no matter,’ continued Masamoto. ‘At sundown you will honour this school and prove yourself a mighty young samurai of the
Niten Ichi Ryū
.’

Jack’s jaw dropped in disbelief. ‘But I haven’t sparred with a real sword yet!’

‘Neither had I,’ retorted Masamoto, with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘I defeated Arima with my
bokken
.’

It was then that Jack realized he was to be given no option. He would have to fight the samurai.

‘Looks like you’ve finally got what you wished for. Your impatience to use your swords in class has caught up with you,’ commented Sensei Hosokawa with a wry smile. ‘I wouldn’t concern yourself too much, though. I’ve seen you practising with your
katana
in the Southern Zen Garden. Your form’s good. You could survive.’

Could?
thought Jack, alarmed by his sensei’s relaxed attitude.

He hoped his chances were better than that.

The young samurai lay twitching in the dust, blood spurting from his severed neck across the duelling ground in miniature rivers of red.

The crowd bayed and whistled, hankering for more bloodshed.

Distraught at the young man’s fate, Jack stood at the edge of the makeshift arena of spectators, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles went white and the inlaid metal
menuki
dug painfully into his palm.

Staring down into the samurai’s eyes, Jack witnessed the life drain from them like the flame of a guttering candle.

‘Next!’ bellowed the formidable warrior, who stood victorious in the centre of the duelling ground. The samurai on his
musha shugyo
was dressed in a dark red-and-white
hakama
. He held his
katana
aloft then brought it down sharply, flicking his opponent’s blood from the blade –
chiburi
.

Yamato nudged his friend forward. ‘He’s calling for you, Jack.’

‘This is just brilliant, isn’t it?’ said Saburo, as he stuffed an
obanyaki
into his mouth, the custard filling of the pastry spilling down over his chin.

‘How can you say that?’ exclaimed Akiko.

‘We’ve got to see a duel! I didn’t think we’d get back in time from the Circle of Three.’

‘Saburo,’ said Jack, mortified at his friend’s insensitivity. ‘I’m about to die.’

‘No, you aren’t,’ said Saburo, dismissing the idea with a jovial grin. ‘Masamoto has agreed with your opponent that your match will be to first blood only. You might get a battle scar, but he won’t kill you.’

‘But that last duel was supposed to be to first blood too!’

Saburo opened his mouth to reply, but obviously couldn’t think of anything to say, so he took another bite of his
obanyaki
instead.

‘That challenger was just unlucky, Jack,’ said Yamato, trying to calm him. ‘He pressed forward at the wrong time and got caught in the neck. An accident, that’s all. It won’t happen to you.’

Despite his friend’s attempt at reassurance, Jack was still doubtful.

‘Jack!’ came a familiar cry, and the crowd opened up to let a small boy through.

Yori hobbled over, helped by Kiku.

‘You should be in bed,’ chided Jack. ‘Your leg -‘

‘Don’t worry about me,’ interrupted Yori, leaning on his crutch. ‘You were there for me when I needed you. Besides, I had to bring you this.’