Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (16 page)

‘A word of warning: never let an enemy
observe you write. By studying your
Shodo
form, they could uncover your inner
sword techniques and defeat you. That little flick told me a great deal about how you
finish a cut.’

Jack was taken aback. He’d never
realized there was so much to the art of
Shodo
. Its knowledge seemed to be as
limitless as the sky itself.

26
 
 

Jack’s brush hovered over the paper,
uncertain how to begin. Shiryu had presented him with the most difficult and complex
kanji
yet:

The two characters meant
‘Hesitation’, which was exactly what he was doing now.

Gently taking his hand, Shiryu steadied the
tip of Jack’s brush.

‘In
Shodo
, the body reflects
the mind,’ he said, his voice soft as a stream. ‘A shaking brush not only
makes it difficult to paint stable
kanji
, but it also indicates a nervous
mental state. As you prepare to write, the tip of your brush
must
be
still.’ He let go of Jack’s hand. ‘It’s the same for the sword.
If you notice your opponent’s
kissaki
begin to tremble, this indicates
suki
– a break in composure and concentration. And
that
is your
opportunity to attack.’

Taking a deep calming breath, Jack
refocused. After two weeks of constant practice, the brush was becoming as familiar in
his hand as his
katana
. With a loud
kiai
, he put brush to
paper
without
hesitation. The tip danced across the surface,
moving from stroke to stroke with effortless grace. Jack felt his
ki
flow
through the bamboo and into the ink. For a moment, his soul seemed rooted in the
kanji
, the characters suddenly clear and precise in his mind. With a last
out-breath, he inked the final stroke.

Shiryu knelt forward and admired
Jack’s work with quiet astonishment. ‘
Dochu no sei
,’ he
uttered.

Jack gave a humble and surprised bow, his
kanji
somehow having attained ‘stillness in motion’.

‘The student is only as good as his
teacher,’ he said.

Shiryu laughed. ‘No,’ he
corrected. ‘The teacher is only as good as his student. And there’s nothing
more I can teach you that time and practice won’t.’

‘Am I glad to hear that!’ cried
Benkei, strolling over the bridge, only a slight limp visible. ‘No disrespect,
Shiryu, but I’ve got cabin fever. And I’m not a bird that can stay caged for
long.’

‘With your peacock feathers, I can see
why,’ replied Shiryu, eyeing Benkei’s unconventional kimono with wry
amusement.

‘
No bird flies too high, if he soars with his own
wings
,’ Benkei shot back in good grace, flapping his wide sleeves and jumping
in the air as if to take off. ‘Thanks to you, I can fly again.’

‘Benkei’s right,’ said
Jack. ‘Grateful as we are, we need to move on. Not only for your safety, but we
have a journey to complete.’

Shiryu nodded. ‘All birds must leave
the nest at some point.’

Jack and Benkei stood at the gate that had
opened so unexpectedly two weeks before and saved their lives. And it was here
that they said their goodbyes to the old
Shodo
master.
Shiryu had prepared a fresh bag of supplies for their journey and given Jack a new straw
hat to wear. Jack pulled the brim low to shield his face. Finally, Shiryu bowed and
handed him a small scroll.

‘Something to remember me by,’
he said, ‘and remind you where to look for inspiration.’

Jack carefully unrolled it. At the top a
perfect
ensō
had been drawn, as round as the midday sun. Below was
Shiryu’s poem of Earth and Sky. Jack smiled, the significance of the gift not lost
on him. He stowed the scroll in his pack next to the
rutter
and bowed his
thanks to Shiryu. ‘My father used to say, good friends are hard to find, difficult
to leave and impossible to forget. I’ll always remember your kindness,
Shiryu.’

With a final bow, Jack and Benkei headed
into the forest. Shiryu remained in the gateway until they rounded a bend, then the old
man disappeared from view.

As they followed the main trail south, the
morning sun glimmered through the canopy, dappling the ground with golden leaves of
light. A soft breeze played among the branches, giving the impression that the forest
was breathing in the new day, while birds fluttered from tree to tree, singing brightly
to one another.

‘Feels good to be walking
again!’ said Benkei, skipping along the track.

Jack was glad to be back on the road too.
Every step took them a little closer to Nagasaki and the possibility of home. But he
remained wary. Although Shiryu had assured him that the search parties had moved on, he
still kept an eye out for any signs of a patrol. Kazuki may have lost their trail, but
his
rival was tenacious and Jack had no doubt that their paths would
cross again.

‘Do you know where we’re
going?’ asked Jack as they followed a zigzagging trail down the valley side.

Benkei nodded. ‘Shiryu suggested we
head towards Ōzu, then follow the Shira River to the castle town of Kumamoto.’

‘We want to avoid such towns, if we
can,’ said Jack, anxious at the thought of entering a samurai stronghold.

‘Not much choice, I’m
afraid,’ replied Benkei, leaping over a log. ‘That’s where we have to
catch the ferry across Shimabara Bay. But then it’s only a hop, skip and a jump to
Nagasaki.’

Benkei enacted each of the actions as he
spoke, dancing down the slope.

Shiryu’s herbs certainly did the
trick
, thought Jack, amazed by his friend’s recovery and boundless
energy.

‘How long will it take?’

‘A week at most.’

Heartened by this news, Jack couldn’t
help but bound alongside his friend. They reached a dirt road running through the
forest. It appeared to be well used, so they kept to one side just in case they heard
any samurai approaching and needed to hide.

Heading west, they stopped by a stream for
an early lunch of cold noodles before continuing on their way. Jack was eager to press
on and take advantage of the deserted road. But by mid-afternoon Benkei’s limp had
become more pronounced and their pace slowed.

‘Ōzu shouldn’t be much
further,’ announced Benkei, pausing on the road.

Jack noticed him massaging the stiffness
from his thigh and suggested, ‘Let’s rest there for the ni–’

A piercing scream interrupted him.

‘That’s the sound of
trouble,’ Benkei hissed and dived into the bushes.

Jack joined him as another scream broke the
forest silence. A girl’s scream.

Moving swiftly, Jack headed in the direction
of the cries. His feet barely made a noise as he trod lightly between the bracken and
twigs. But Benkei, who didn’t know the ninja art of stealth-walking, ploughed
through the undergrowth like a startled pheasant. Jack turned and put a finger to his
lips, urging his friend to be quiet. They crept the last few paces in silence. Remaining
hidden behind a tree, they peered round to see three rough-looking men on the road,
surrounding a defenceless girl.

‘Come on!’ grunted one of them,
a bear of a man with bushy eyebrows and a beard that looked like he’d had a fight
with a thorn bush and lost. ‘Dance for us!’

The girl, maybe sixteen, with brown eyes,
rose-red cheeks and shoulder-length dark hair, was in tears, terrified for her life. She
wore a green silk kimono that was torn at the shoulder and a string of jade-coloured
beads that hung from her hair. With as much composure as she could muster, the girl
began a formal dance, moving her arms in graceful arcs and shaking her head so that the
beads jingled.

The two other men, one portly, wearing a
dirty red bandanna, and the other a scrawny runt with a ponytail, laughed at her
efforts. Ridiculing her, they started throwing sticks and stones. The girl squealed in
pain as the missiles pelted her legs and feet.

‘Dance faster!’ ordered the
bearded man.

Sobbing, the girl continued to twirl like a
wounded butterfly.

‘Bandits!’ spat Benkei in
disgust.

Jack reached for his sword. Bandits were the
curse of the countryside – low-life criminals and dishonoured warriors who pillaged
defenceless villages and robbed innocent travellers. As a samurai, Jack couldn’t
just stand by and watch this poor girl be assaulted … maybe even killed. But a
hand upon his arm held him back. Benkei was furiously shaking his head.

‘You can’t risk getting
involved,’ he warned under his breath.

‘Shiryu took a risk to save us,’
reminded Jack. ‘And one good deed deserves another.’

27
 
 

‘I’m bored with this
dance,’ declared the bearded bandit. ‘I think we should cut her out of the
show, don’t you?’

Grinning at his nodding associates, he drew
a rusty blade from his belt and approached the girl. Before she could run away, the
bandit with the ponytail grabbed her by the hair. The girl struggled in his bony arms as
the bearded bandit raised his knife to her bare neck.

‘Let her go!’ ordered Jack,
stepping out from behind the tree.

The three bandits spun round to see who
their challenger was. Mindful to keep his face hidden, Jack nonetheless ensured the men
noticed the two samurai swords on his hip.

The bearded bandit laughed. ‘Honour
isn’t dead then? A noble samurai come to the rescue of a damsel in
distress!’ he mocked.

‘There’s no need for
bloodshed,’ replied Jack, taking his time to assess his opponents and work out the
best tactics. ‘Release her and go on your way.’

The bearded bandit considered this for a
moment. ‘Of
course …’ he replied, throwing the girl
to the ground. ‘But we
won’t
be going anywhere.’

The three bandits seized their weapons. The
scrawny one picked up a staff leaning against a tree, while the portly bandit took out a
pair of short-handled
kama
, the sickle-shaped blades sharpened into deadly
points. The bearded leader swapped his knife for a
chigiriki
. He swung the
short flail in tight arcs, making the spiked iron weight at the end of the chain whistle
menacingly through the air.

Jack stood his ground, yet to draw his
swords. Benkei remained hidden behind the tree, wide-eyed at Jack’s boldness.

The portly bandit scraped his
kama
blades together as if preparing to slice up
sushi
. ‘We eat young samurai
for lunch,’ he warned.

‘Well, I eat old bandits for
breakfast,’ replied Jack.

Exchanging an amused look, the three men
grunted with laughter at Jack’s retort. Then they attacked.

Jack had decided not to resort to his
swords, unless forced to. He planned to incapacitate the bandits, save the girl and
quickly move on. Leaving evidence of a bloody fight might draw the attention of a
samurai patrol. So Jack’s intention was for the encounter to be quick and
painless … 
painless for him at least
.