Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (15 page)

Benkei managed a laugh. ‘You? Need
practice? Not from what I’ve seen!’

Jack put down the empty soup bowl. ‘I
was lucky to have survived my fight with Kazuki. Before I lost my finger, we were an
equal match, but now …’

He trailed off, the reality biting hard.
Kazuki had defeated him with disturbing ease. Unless he could resolve the problem of his
weakened grip, their next confrontation would end in death.
His
death.

That afternoon Jack devoted himself to Two
Heavens practice in the garden. As if he was training at the
Niten Ichi Ryū
, he
limbered up, stretching his muscles and flexing his joints. Then he worked his way
through the different sword
kata
that Masamoto had taught him. Each prescribed
set of moves focused on a particular combat technique: Flint-and-Spark,
Lacquer-and-Glue, the strike of Running Water, Monkey’s Body, Autumn Leaf strike
and so on. The goal was to internalize the movements of each
kata
so that the
techniques could be executed under any circumstance, without thought or hesitation.

Jack had practised these
kata
so
many times they were second nature to him … at least they should have
been.

Rather than flowing in a natural,
reflex-like manner, his
kata
were flawed and uneven. The weakness in his left
hand, combined with his diminished grip, unbalanced his moves – only marginally, but
enough for him to miss his intended target at crucial times. He noticed that the blade
of his
wakizashi
often wavered rather than cutting in a straight line. Much to
his annoyance, he even dropped it on two occasions.

With every
kata
, Jack grew
increasingly frustrated. He felt like a beginner again. He’d lost the fine control
that he’d spent the past four years honing – the control that meant the difference
between life and death in a duel. When he lost grip on the
wakizashi
a third
time, Jack wearily turned his back on it and left the sword where it fell, the steel
blade mocking him like a silver snake in the grass. Finding a rock beside the edge of
the pond, he sat down and gazed at the koi carp gliding past without really looking. He
massaged his throbbing left hand. The tip of his little finger itched wildly, although
there was nothing there to scratch.

How could the loss of something so small
have such an impact on his sword skills?

Jack knew the little finger was crucial for
grip on the handle. It also helped him judge the delicate balance of the sword and to
execute
ten-uchi
correctly – this was the twisting technique
upon the handle, like the wringing of a towel, that caused the blade to strike its
target with a sharp snapping force that broke any initial resistance. Without
ten-uchi
, the attack was only half as powerful. But Jack didn’t have
a clue where to begin adjusting his overall technique. He desperately needed
Masamoto’s expert advice. His guardian would know how to compensate for the lack
of a fingertip. But with Masamoto banished to a remote Buddhist temple on Mount Iawo
there was no hope of gaining his wisdom. Jack was on his own and at a loss for
ideas.

‘A samurai without belief has lost the
battle before it has begun,’ said Shiryu, who had been watching Jack’s
struggle from the pavilion. ‘Maybe I can be of assistance?’

‘I appreciate your offer,’ said
Jack, bowing his head. ‘But, with respect, what would a
Shodo
master know
about the way of the sword?’

Shiryu smiled. ‘Everything.’

25
 
 

‘The way of the sword and the way of
the brush are one and the same,’ explained Shiryu, picking up Jack’s
discarded
wakizashi
. ‘Yuri’s priest told me that in the West you
say “the pen is mightier than the sword”. But in Japan we say
bunbu
ichi
– the pen and sword in accord.’

He held the brush beside the blade, uniting
the tools of art and war.

‘If you think of the paper as your
opponent and the brush as your sword, then the connection becomes clear. In
Shodo
, each stroke must be delivered like the slash of a samurai sword, yet
the brush must be held in a relaxed manner and manoeuvred without loss of controlled
calmness. The same is true for a warrior and his sword in a duel. Without a focused mind
and a complete commitment of spirit, the fight is over before the blade has been
drawn.’

He returned Jack his
wakizashi
.

‘Why not grip the sword like one holds
the brush?’ Shiryu suggested.

Jack stared at the old
Shodo
master, perplexed at the idea. They were totally opposite techniques. A samurai sword
was
gripped primarily by the middle, fourth and little fingers,
whereas a brush was held between the thumb, fore and middle fingers. The shift, while
apparently small, represented a major alteration of technique.

Disheartened though he was, Jack realized it
was worth a try. He reminded himself that Kazuki had overcome his own hand injury to
return a stronger fighter. If his rival could manage such a feat, then he was determined
to do so too.

Jack stood and retook his position in the
garden. Holding his
katana
in his right hand and the
wakizashi
in his
left, using the new grip, he resumed his practice. Working through the first
kata
, it became immediately apparent that the imbalance of the
wakizashi
was a problem. He stopped and slid his hand down the handle.

‘In
Shodo
, the little finger
is required to do nothing, just lie naturally,’ explained Shiryu, helping Jack to
position his fingers correctly. ‘So don’t concern yourself about the missing
tip.’

With the sword now evenly weighted, Jack
tried again. He understood the new technique would take time to master, but the first
few moves passed with surprising fluidity. Gaining confidence from such progress, Jack
sped up … then in the middle of an overhead strike, the
wakizashi
flew from his grasp. It spun through the air, whipping past Shiryu’s startled face
to pierce a pillar of the pavilion.

Jack hung his head, both embarrassed and
disappointed. ‘Sorry, I don’t think it’s working …’

‘Even when you fall on your face,
you’re still moving forward,’ encouraged Shiryu, retrieving the
wakizashi
for him.

Persuaded to carry on, Jack started more
slowly this time.
But, despite his initial success, his
kata
moves remained stilted, the
wakizashi
feeling heavy and cumbersome in his
altered grasp.

‘Let the sword float in your
hand,’ advised Shiryu with sharp observation. ‘Just as with a brush, a
gentle grip is required for the precise and pure motions of a samurai.’

Only now was Jack aware that he’d been
tensing his hand muscles to compensate for his little finger. As soon as he relaxed his
hold, the
kata
began to flow more freely. His
wakizashi
cut the air in
perfect unison with his
katana
. By his fifth run-through of the
kata
,
he achieved the final move without a single mistake.

Shiryu quietly applauded his success. Jack
bowed his appreciation in return.

‘You could even reverse the
wakizashi
in your grip,’ suggested Shiryu with a wry smile.
‘That would
really
confuse your opponent.’

Jack grinned back at his new sensei. It was
a radical idea, but one that might just work.

Two weeks passed undisturbed, during which
Jack practised hard. The new hold soon became familiar as an old glove, while the
reverse grip proved to be a formidable and revolutionary sword technique. Although less
powerful and more limited in range, the reversed blade enabled him to execute hidden
slashes, unexpected stabs and full coverage deflections. He could even strike to the
rear and, combined with his
katana
, perform devastating double cross-cuts that
the traditional Two Heavens style wouldn’t allow.

Yet, despite this progress, Jack was mindful
that the new technique would only work in certain close-quarter situations. So he
trained himself to fluidly switch between forward and reverse grips.

A clever tiger hides its claws
, the
Grandmaster had once said in reference to a ninja’s tactical use of surprise. Jack
knew it was important that he saved this secret technique for the right moment.

At the end of each training session, Jack
joined Shiryu in the pavilion for a
Shodo
lesson. The old master had explained,
‘A samurai warrior well versed in the arts of peace is strong for the arts of war.
Shodo
cultivates a strength of mind and composure that will allow you to
respond more instantly to an opponent’s attack. By removing the hesitation in your
brushstroke, we’ll remove any hesitation in your sword strike too.’

The ‘spiritual forging’, as
Shiryu liked to call it, lasted until nightfall … or else Benkei complained
for lack of company in the house. Each lesson began with a fresh sheet of rice paper and
a new set of
kanji
to learn. Jack would kneel beside Shiryu, copying the
brushstrokes for each character, memorizing their order and attempting to put
‘rhythm’ and
ki
into them. He would repeat the characters over and
over, focusing on quietening his mind so that he could become one with the brush, ink
and paper. Familiar with meditation as a result of Sensei Yamada’s Zen philosophy
lessons, Jack found this aspect the easiest to master. But the essence of
Shodo
– stillness in motion – eluded him.

Nevertheless, by the end of the first week,
Shiryu had been
impressed enough with Jack’s progress to ask him
what
kanji
characters he’d like to learn next. Without a second thought,
Jack asked for the Five Rings:

Shiryu smiled appreciatively. ‘A
powerful set of
kanji
,’ he remarked, pointing to a scroll hanging from
the eastern beam of the pavilion. Upon it, Shiryu had inscribed a poem in
kanji
in his exquisite hand:

If we always look at the earth,

we do not see the sky.

‘A
Shodo
master often seeks
the Ring of Sky as a means of connecting to the energy of the universe,’ he
explained.

Jack tried to contain his surprise at the
idea of a
Shodo
master using ninja techniques to write.

‘The element of Sky inspires our
creative nature,’ Shiryu continued, ‘and nourishes our ability for
self-expression.’

With a flourish, he inked the strokes for
Sky. The
kanji
was so charged with energy, it seemed to soar off the page.

He invited Jack to follow his movements.
Jack loaded his brush and tried to imitate Shiryu’s work. He produced an admirable
likeness, but spotted an incomplete stroke and without thinking went back to touch up
the character. Shiryu immediately stopped him.

‘Just as a mistake in a sword duel
results in death, in
Shodo
all mistakes are final too.’

He handed Jack a blank sheet.

‘Start afresh. Remember, a
Shodo
artist endeavours to succeed before the brush even touches the paper,
in much the same way that a skilled samurai will spiritually win
before
drawing
his sword.’

Nodding, Jack pictured the
kanji
for Sky in his head before committing brush to paper. Only when he could see the whole
form in his mind’s eye did he begin. This time the strokes were faultless.

Within a few days, as a result of
Shiryu’s excellent tuition, Jack had mastered all five of the elements. He
finished the
kanji
for Wind with a small flick of the brush, then handed his
work to Shiryu for inspection.

Shiryu raised his eyebrows appreciatively,
then glanced at Jack.