The Way Of The Sword (12 page)

Yet what chilled Jack’s blood most was the fact that he knew who the ringleader of this mysterious group was. He recognized his voice. It was Kazuki, following in his father’s footsteps and calling for war.

Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall. The shower quickly became a torrent and within moments Jack was soaked to the skin and numb with cold. But he was determined to stay and learn all he could. Ignoring his discomfort, he strained to hear the ongoing conversation above the rain, which was now beating an insistent rhythm upon the
Butokuden’
s roof.

‘...all Christians will be forced to leave on pain of death,’ continued Kazuki. ‘Some may try to hide, but it will be our duty to hunt them down.’

‘What about Jack?’ asked the thin reedy voice. ‘Surely he’s protected by Masamoto-sama.’

‘The great Masamoto-sama’s got more important things to worry about than some
gaijin
. I mean, have you seen Masamoto-sama at school recently? No. His duty is to
daimyo
Takatomi. He couldn’t care less about Jack.’

‘And without his samurai guardian around,’ mocked the female voice, ‘there’ll be no rock the
gaijin
can crawl under where we won’t find him!’

All of sudden, Jack felt very vulnerable. He’d been so busy with training for the trials, he hadn’t noticed the continued absence of Masamoto. It only now occurred to him that his guardian’s seat at the head table during dinner had been empty for almost a month. The last time Jack had seen Masamoto was when the samurai had overseen the start of the construction of the Hall of the Hawk. Where had he gone? If the situation suddenly turned serious, Jack had no one in authority at the school with a personal interest in protecting him.

‘We must be ready for the call to arms from our
daimyo
,’ continued Kazuki. ‘That is the purpose of the
Sasori
Gang. We must now all swear our allegiance to this righteous cause.’

‘I’ll need some light for the initiation ritual,’ demanded the husky female voice.

Jack heard the sound of a flint being struck and a couple of sparks flared in the gloom. A moment later, a small oil lamp burned like a solitary firefly in the cavernous hall.

Jack gasped in astonishment. The flickering flame illuminated a girl’s bleached-white face. Her oval eyes were like coals in a fire and a pair of blood-red lips parted to reveal teeth painted black as tar. Jack instantly recognized her as Moriko, the female samurai who had competed against Akiko in the
Taryu-Jiai
. A cruel, vicious fighter, she trained at the rival
Yagyu
School in Kyoto. Jack couldn’t believe
she
was inside the walls of the
Niten Ichi Ryū
.

‘That’s better,’ she rasped, taking an inkpot and several bamboo needles from her
inro
and laying them beside the lamp. She then uncorked a small bottle of
saké
and poured a measure of the clear liquid into a cup. This was placed in the centre of the group. ‘So who will be first for
irezumi
?’

‘I will,’ said Kazuki, opening his overcoat and kimono to expose his chest.

Moriko inspected one of the needles, turning it slowly over the flame. Satisfied, she then dipped its sharpened point into the pot of black ink. With her other hand, she held Kazuki’s skin taut above his heart.

‘This will hurt,’ she said, puncturing Kazuki’s skin with the tip and inserting a drop of ink beneath.

Kazuki grimaced, but made no sound. Moriko recharged her needle before piercing his chest again. She continued slowly and methodically, adding more dots of ink to the design.

Jack had seen such work performed before, on the sailors of the
Alexandria
when they had had their arms tattooed. To Jack it had always seemed like a great deal of pain for what amounted to a poor image of an anchor or the name of some sweetheart the sailor soon forgot once they docked at another port.

‘Done,’ said Moriko, a black slit of a smile spreading across her face.

‘This is your mark,’ announced Kazuki with pride, turning so that the others could see. ‘The
sasori
!’

Jack was too stunned to breathe. Tattooed above Kazuki’s heart was a small black scorpion – the creature of Jack’s nightmares.

However hard his Christian beliefs tried to deny it, the coincidence of this tattoo and his dream was too great to ignore.

Kazuki raised the cup of
saké
.

‘Once you have your
sasori
and have shared
saké
from this cup, you’re forever a brother of the Scorpion Gang. Death to all
gaijin
!’ toasted Kazuki, drinking from the cup.

‘Death to all
gaijin
!’ echoed the others, pledging their allegiance and eagerly opening up their kimonos for Moriko to begin the
irezumi
.

Outside the
Butokuden
, the storm thundered its approval.

Jack shook uncontrollably. He hugged himself for warmth, pressing his body against the wall in an attempt to shelter from the relentless downpour.

His mind, like the elements, was a whirlwind of confusion. What should he do? He’d heard all the testimony he needed. Japan was being turned against foreigners. If someone didn’t stop Kamakura, Jack would become an outcast. The enemy. He needed to tell Masamoto, but how could his guardian protect him against such forces?

Crack!

A blast of wind caught the wooden shutter, slamming it against the window frame. Startled, Jack dropped his
katana
and it went clattering across the stone-clad courtyard, disappearing into the darkness.

‘Someone’s there!’ cried Moriko from within.

Panic rose up in Jack’s chest. He quickly searched for his weapon, but he could hear the Scorpion Gang fast approaching.

Leaving his
katana
behind, he ran for his life.

Jack sprinted round the corner of the
Butokuden
, but he knew he wouldn’t make it across the courtyard without being spotted by Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang.

Glancing around, the only cover within reach was the building works of the Hall of the Hawk. Jack ran and dived into a waterlogged hole in the newly dug foundations just as several figures burst out of the
Butokuden
.

Peering over the muddy lip, he watched as they hunted for him. The first two went round the far side of the training hall, while the other two headed in Jack’s direction. Jack slipped further into the murky depths of the hole. As they drew closer, he could hear the squelch of their feet in the mud. They stopped at the edge of the flooded foundations.

‘There’s no way I’m going in there,’ protested a voice.

‘Go on!’ ordered Kazuki. ‘You need an excuse for a bath.’

Jack heard three more squelching footsteps and looked up. Above him towered the bulk of Nobu.

‘I can’t go any further. I’m sinking!’ complained Nobu, oblivious to Jack’s presence right at his feet.

‘You’re useless! Come back then.’

Turning round, Nobu slipped and wobbled on the edge. For a moment it looked like he might fall into the hole, but to Jack’s relief the oaf regained his balance.

‘Do you think it was one of the sensei?’ asked Nobu as he slowly made his way back to Kazuki.

‘No,’ replied Kazuki. ‘A sensei wouldn’t run away! But whoever it was, we need to convince them to join the gang. Or else silence them. Come on. Let’s go find the others.’

Jack, shivering with a combination of cold, fear and anger, waited until he was sure Kazuki and Nobu were gone, then crawled out of the hole. As much as he wanted to go back to his room, he first had to find his sword. Masamoto had instructed him that ‘it must never fall into the hands of your enemy’. He couldn’t risk Kazuki finding it.

Jack hurried to the back of the
Butokuden
, but in the darkness and downpour it was impossible to see anything. He scrabbled around on his hands and knees, praying his fingers would come across it.

Suddenly he was aware of footsteps running up behind him.

Loath to leave his sword, he realized he had no choice but to escape while he could.

Jack sensed the blow a fraction before he was caught hard across the gut. He reeled, gasping for breath. Struggling to keep his feet, he heard movement to his left and turned to face his enemy.

The problem was that Jack couldn’t see. The darkness completely enveloped him. But he could hear Kazuki snorting with laughter in the background and the sound of shuffling feet. Apart from that, he had no other way of knowing where the next attack might come from.

Out of nowhere the
swoosh
of a weapon came rocketing towards his head. More by luck than skill, Jack lurched sideways and avoided the blow. In blind retaliation, he swung wildly at his assailant. Missing his target, he flailed through empty air.

Before Jack could follow through, he was struck across the shins. His legs went from under him and he fell to the ground face first. He tried to roll out of the fall, but was too disorientated. Jack grunted in pain as his shoulder ploughed into the stony earth.

‘Yame!’
boomed the voice of Sensei Kano, bringing the fight to a halt.

Jack pulled off his blindfold, squinting into the bright light of the midday sun. Kazuki was kneeling in line with the other students, delighting in Jack’s defeat.

‘Sorry, Jack,’ apologized Yamato, taking off his own blindfold and offering his hand to help him up. ‘I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. It’s just I couldn’t see where you were…’

‘Don’t worry, I’m fine,’ grimaced Jack, pulling himself to his feet.

‘Good work, both of you,’ commended Sensei Kano, who sat upon the worn steps of the Kompon Chu-do Temple.

Once again, Sensei Kano had led his students at dawn up Mount Hiei for their lesson in the Art of the
Bō
. He considered the long walk good conditioning for them and the mountain air beneficial to training.

‘I heard three attacks avoided. And you, Yamato-kun, were highly aware of your surroundings. Two strikes on target are praiseworthy for a first attempt at blind
kumite
, but please control your strength next time. It sounds like Jack-kun took quite a tumble. Let’s have the next two students.’

Relieved the free-fighting session was over, Jack handed over his blindfold to another student and knelt back in line between Yori and Akiko. He massaged his aching shoulder, groaning as his fingers found the bruise.

‘Are you hurt badly?’ asked Akiko, noting Jack’s pained expression.

‘No, I’m fine… but I’m still not sure why we’re learning to fight blindfolded,’ replied Jack under his breath, ‘when all of us can see.’

‘As I explained before, Jack-kun,’ interrupted Sensei Kano, whose acute sense of hearing had picked up the comment from the opposite side of the courtyard, ‘to see with eyes alone is not to see at all. In my lessons, you’re learning
not
to rely upon your eyes to defend yourself. As soon as you open your eyes, you begin to make mistakes.’

‘But wouldn’t I make fewer mistakes if I could see what my enemy was doing?’ asked Jack.

‘No, young samurai. You must remember the eyes are the windows to your mind,’ explained Sensei Kano. ‘Come stand on this step before me and I will show what I mean.’

Sensei Kano beckoned him over. Jack got to his feet and joined him on the steps.

‘Look at my feet,’ instructed the sensei.

Jack studied his teacher’s open-toed sandals and was instantly struck on top of the head by the sensei’s
bō
staff.

‘My apologies, I’m blind and sometimes clumsy,’ said Sensei Kano. ‘Please keep an eye on my staff for me.’

Jack followed the tip of the white staff, ensuring he was not caught out again.

Sensei Kano kicked him sharply in the shin.

‘Oww!’ Jack exclaimed, hobbling backwards.

The students all sniggered behind their hands.

‘Lesson over,’ stated Sensei Kano. ‘Now do you understand?’

‘Not really, Sensei…’ said Jack, rubbing his sore shin.

‘Think about it! If you look at an opponent’s feet your attention will be directed to his feet, and if you look to his weapon your attention will be drawn to his weapon. So it follows, when you look to the left you forget the right, and when you look to the right you forget the left.’

Sensei Kano let the message sink in. He pointed to his own sightless eyes.

‘Whatever is being contemplated within never fails to be revealed through the eyes. Your enemy will take advantage of this. In order to fight without giving yourself away, you must learn to fight without relying on your eyes.’

Jack put down his writing brush. After his humiliation in front of Sensei Kyuzo over not being able to write
kanji
, Akiko had offered to teach him the basics of calligraphy. Whenever they had free time before dinner, they would meet in her room and she would show him a new
kanji
character and the correct order of brushstrokes needed to form it.

Akiko looked up at Jack, wondering why he had stopped halfway through her explanation of the character for ‘temple’.

Jack took a breath. Since his discovery of the Scorpion Gang and losing his sword, this was the first opportunity he’d had to speak with Akiko alone and he was uncertain how to tackle the mystery of her absence the previous evening.

‘Where were you last night?’ Jack eventually asked. ‘You weren’t in your room.’

She blinked once, her mouth visibly tightening at Jack’s inappropriate directness.

‘I don’t know what it’s like in England, but that’s not the sort of question you ask a lady in Japan,’ she replied coolly and started to pack away her writing tools. ‘Perhaps the question that should be asked is, where were
you
?’

‘Me? I was at the
Butokuden
...’

‘That will explain why I found this,’ she snapped, sliding open the door of her wall closet and taking out Jack’s
katana
.

Jack was completely thrown, both by Akiko’s harshness and his sword’s unexpected appearance.