Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (18 page)

Junjun screamed as the
katana
’s razor edge scythed towards her stomach. A spray of blood and
gore splattered Jack’s face. He tensed, waiting for the steel to cleave through
him too.

But the searing cut never came.

Instead, he heard a strangled guttural cry
from the bandit leader. Blinking away the blood, Jack saw an arrow embedded in the
man’s throat. His eyes bulging in shock, the leader dropped the
Shizu
sword and clasped his pulsating neck. His fingers ran red and he spewed up more gobs of
blood.

Above Jack, Junjun was sobbing yet alive,
the
katana
blade never having made contact.

With the attack so sudden and swift, the
other bandits merely stared open-mouthed as their leader collapsed to his knees. Then
more arrows flew and the gang of outlaws broke into a wild panic. Not knowing which way
to run, they barged one another out of the way in a desperate bid to escape with their
lives. The scrawny bandit fled for the cover of the trees, but an arrow struck him in
the back. The potbellied bandit, tripping over him, hit his head on a rock and ended up
sprawled in the earth, before being trampled by the other bandits.

‘Someone’s ruffled their
feathers!’ said Benkei, glancing at their fallen leader, who was now quivering on
the ground in his death throes.

Amid the chaos, Jack fumbled at the knots
binding his left hand. From his position staked to the ground, he could only see the
stampeding feet of the bandits. But there was no question in his mind that a samurai
patrol had ambushed them. And he didn’t want to be around when they finished
massacring the outlaws.

Then Jack spotted a lone samurai thundering
down the road astride a white stallion. Clad in a turquoise-blue suit of armour with a
bronze face mask, the warrior wielded a formidable Japanese bow and was unleashing arrow
after arrow with deadly accuracy. Jack, Benkei and Junjun watched in amazement as the
warrior laid waste to the bandit gang. Jack had rarely witnessed such archery skills,
especially on horseback.

‘Wait, it’s only
one
samurai!’ cried the buck-toothed bandit, furiously waving his spear for
attention.

He managed to rally a few men and they
rushed to intercept their attacker. Two were felled by arrow fire before they got
anywhere near. But the other three met the warrior head on. Now at close quarters, the
mounted samurai switched from bow to sword. The bandits each tried to land a blow, but
the samurai was too quick. Blade met blade, every attack blocked and lethally
countered.

They tried to surround the samurai and
attack from opposite sides, but the stallion – coaxed by a tug on the reins – reared up
and lashed out with its hooves. The bandits scattered … but were a fraction
too slow. One was kicked in the chest.
Another was trampled under hoof
and barely managed to crawl into the bushes with his life.

The buck-toothed bandit alone kept his
distance. He thrust his spear at the samurai. But, with a single sword swipe, the
warrior cut the shaft in two and its barbed tip clattered to the ground. The samurai
then heel-kicked the bandit in the face. There was a sickening
crunch
as his
nose imploded and his two front teeth were knocked out. He staggered backwards, howling
in agony and spitting blood. Glancing at the useless stump of spear in his hand, the
toothless bandit turned tail and ran off down the road.

With all the outlaws dead, wounded or
fleeing, the samurai warrior dismounted the white stallion and strode over to Jack and
the others. Still staked to the ground, the three of them were powerless to escape.

‘I hope this samurai doesn’t
want to test any swords!’ whispered Benkei.

Jack frantically stretched his fingers for
his
katana
lying on the earth beside the dead bandit leader … but the
red leather handle was just out of reach.

Staring at Jack, the warrior picked up the
sword and held it aloft. In two quick swipes, the blade cut through their bonds. The
three of them rolled off one another with relief.

While Benkei helped a trembling Junjun to
her feet, Jack warily approached their saviour.

‘Thank you,’ he said, bowing yet
not taking his eyes off the warrior. ‘But who do we have the honour of
thanking?’

The samurai removed the turquoise helmet and
bronze mask. A cascade of jet-black hair unravelled past the warrior’s shoulders.
A girl’s face was revealed, eyes dark as ebony, skin
like cherry
blossom, and with a smile that warmed Jack’s heart like no other.

‘AKIKO!’ he gasped.

With complete disregard for Japanese
formalities, he embraced his friend. ‘Is it
really
you?’

Akiko returned his hug and whispered into
his ear, ‘
Forever bound to one another
.’

30
 
 

With Akiko in his arms, Jack felt time
stand still. All his pain and worries melted away. It was as if the
ensō
inside
him was whole again. He now repeated their vow – the one they’d made on the
battlefields of Tenno-ji, when the bond between them had become unbreakable.

‘
Forever bound to one
another
,’ he whispered back.

But how could Akiko be here in Kyushu? She
was supposed to be in Toba, caring for her mother. After all, they’d said their
final heart-wrenching farewells in the Iga mountains the previous year. Her appearance
now was like a dream to him.

For a moment, they simply gazed into each
other’s eyes, their breathless silence expressing more than words ever could.

A polite cough interrupted their embrace.
‘I don’t wish to break up this happy reunion,’ said Benkei, an urgency
to his voice, ‘but the bandits are coming back.’

Akiko stepped away from Jack, suddenly
self-conscious of their display of affection.

‘And there’s a samurai patrol
not far behind me,’ she revealed, regaining her composure and handing Jack back
his
katana
.

This double threat impelled them all into
action. Jack retrieved his
wakizashi
from the dead leader, while Benkei
gathered their belongings. Junjun, however, appeared to be in a state of severe shock.
She stood unmoving, her large brown eyes fixated on Jack, the trauma of the
tameshigiri
evidently too much for her.

‘Y … you’re … the
gaijin
samurai,’
Junjun finally managed to stutter. ‘And it’s true … your hair is
golden
.’

Jack’s hand went to his head, his
straw hat missing. He realized that Benkei’s advice not to get involved in the
girl’s predicament may have been hardhearted, but it had been prudent. Now Junjun
might tell the samurai patrol.

‘Well, I don’t see any
gaijin
,’ Benkei stated, shooting her a conspiratorial wink as he
plonked Jack’s hat back on his head. ‘Do you?’

For a moment Junjun crinkled her nose in
puzzlement, then it dawned on her what he was implying.

‘No,’ she replied earnestly.
‘I
never
saw any
gaijin
.’

Angry shouts warned them that the bandits
were getting closer.

‘Let’s go,’ urged Akiko,
mounting her stallion and taking up the reins.

With Junjun offering to guide them to Ōzu,
they hastened down the road. A few well-aimed arrows from Akiko kept the outlaws at bay
as they made their escape. After two more fell by the wayside, the bandits ceased their
pursuit and raided their slain comrades for weapons and spoils instead.

‘Bandits have
no
honour!’ exclaimed Akiko, disgusted by their immoral behaviour.

But Jack was just relieved the gang had
given up the chase.
Yet this was no reason to slow down. ‘How
close is that samurai patrol?’ he asked, running alongside Akiko’s
horse.

‘In the last village, a little way up
the valley,’ she replied.

‘Were they still searching for
me?’

‘The whole of Japan is looking for
you.’

‘Well, I’m glad it’s
you
who found me first,’ said Jack, grinning up at her.

‘And not a moment too soon,’
added Benkei, hurrying along beside them. ‘Any later and we’d have been
sliced and diced like
sushi
!’

The forest had given way to paddy fields and
the road now followed a broad lazy stretch of the Shira River. Further along, a small
town hugged its banks and spread out like the fronds of a pond from the water’s
edge. Even from a distance, Ōzu was evidently busy. A steady stream of foot traffic
crossed a wooden bridge at its centre.

‘It’s market day,’
explained Junjun, pointing to an open field on the opposite bank filled with stalls,
farmers and local townsfolk.

‘We should avoid the town, if we
can,’ said Jack, searching for a path across the paddy fields.

‘That might look suspicious,’
said Akiko. ‘Besides, we can’t afford to waste time. If you walk by my side,
with your head down, people will think you’re my retainer and not give you a
second look.’

Trusting in Akiko’s judgement, Jack
kept close to her horse’s flank. They entered Ōzu, Benkei taking the weight off
his aching leg with a strong forked stick Junjun had found for him in the forest. The
tea houses and shops were thronged with visitors and farmers from the neighbouring
villages. So
much so that no one paid Jack and his friends any
attention.

As they crossed the town’s bridge to
the market itself, they heard the twang of a
shamisen
and the
clack
of
wooden clappers coming from a tented encampment. Two rectangular marquees with red and
white vertical stripes were pitched inside a circular camp curtain. As Junjun stepped
through a gap in the curtain, Jack spotted a wooden stage upon which two young women
were dancing – their flamboyant movements like two birds-of-paradise competing in a
courtship ritual.

‘Junjun! There you are!’

The music stopped and a beautiful woman in a
purple and green kimono came running across. Her hair was styled into a curving bob that
perched on her head like a black falcon with folded wings. Her flawless face was painted
white as snow with her lips stained the colour of rubies. Black and red make-up rimmed
her eyes and her brows had been redrawn like the fine strokes of a
Shodo
brush.
She reminded Jack of an exquisite porcelain doll.

Despite her delicate appearance, the angry
look on her face told a different story.

‘
Where
have you been?’
demanded the woman. ‘Rehearsals started ages ago.’

‘Sorry, Okuni,’ said Junjun,
looking apologetically down at her feet. ‘But I was attacked by bandits. These
samurai saved me.’

With formality and practised grace, Okuni
bowed her respects to Jack and Akiko. She smiled openly at Benkei, whose colourful
appearance seemed to garner her approval.

‘It’s heartening to discover
there are still
true
samurai in this land,’ she said, addressing Akiko.
‘Junjun is one of our star
performers; we’d be lost
without her. Please honour us by being our guests for this evening’s
kabuki
show.’

‘I’m sorry, but we cannot
stay,’ replied Akiko.

‘It’s not to be missed,’
insisted Okuni with evident pride in her voice. ‘We perform in towns and festivals
all over Japan, and even for
daimyos
and the Imperial Court.’

‘Another time perhaps. I’m
afraid we have an urgent engagement in Kumamoto.’

‘But it’s late already,’
she protested, indicating the sun sinking low on the horizon. ‘You won’t get
there tonight. Why not rest here?’

The sound of pounding hooves caused them all
to turn. A patrol of six mounted samurai thundered down the road on the opposite bank.
Jack fought the urge to run. They had to appear unconcerned by the patrol’s
arrival. Akiko casually pulled on the reins of her horse to leave, although the
apprehension in her face belied the approaching threat.

Junjun whispered urgently in Okuni’s
ear. The woman’s eyes widened, her shock accentuated to dramatic proportions by
her make-up.

‘And
this
samurai saved your
life?’ Okuni asked again, reassessing the hatted warrior before her.

Junjun nodded emphatically.

‘Then we are in his debt.’

She bowed once more to Jack and the others.
‘Do not worry, my girls will distract the patrol.’

Okuni clapped her hands and beckoned her
performers. A group of young ladies, all dressed in colourful robes and their faces
painted white, scurried out.

‘We have potential patrons,’ she
announced, indicating the
mounted patrol. ‘
Ensure
they
stay to see this evening’s performance.’

Giggling and fluttering their fans, the
kabuki
troupe crossed the bridge to head off the samurai.

‘Junjun, you need to get changed for
rehearsals,’ reminded Okuni sternly.