Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (22 page)

‘
Sumo
is combat at its
purest,’ declared
daimyo
Kato, gesturing towards the
dohyō
with
his fan. ‘Two mighty forces confronting one another. Yet the battle is rarely won
on strength alone. The true conflict takes place in the mind. The conqueror and
conquered decided in the blink of an eye.’

He clapped his hands. ‘
Gyōji!
Summon Riku.’

The
sumo
referee bowed and turned
to one of the many armed retainers, who stood unnoticed at the edge of the hall. The
retainer hurried out and returned a few moments later accompanied by a hulking young
man. With the body of an ox and legs like tree trunks, the wrestler clomped across the
dojo
floor to the central ring.

‘Riku is our youngest champion,’
explained the
daimyo
. ‘What he lacks in girth compared to his opponents,
he more than makes up for in skill and mettle.’

In Jack’s eyes, Riku looked as huge
and intimidating as the other two wrestlers, but he wasn’t going to argue with the
daimyo
. In fact, he couldn’t – even if he’d wanted to – the gag
was still in his mouth.

‘I wonder,’ mused the
daimyo
, a playful grin on his lips, ‘can a
gaijin
survive a
sumo
bout?’

With a wave of his fan, he commanded the
officer to unbind Jack.

Glad to be free, Jack swallowed the dryness
from his throat and rubbed his raw wrists. He glanced over at the man-mountain that was
Riku. The young wrestler was pounding a fist into a fleshy palm, the message clear: he
would beat Jack into a pulp.

‘I’m not here to entertain your
whims,’ said Jack. ‘What reason do I have to fight your champion?’

Daimyo
Kato considered this a
moment – then glanced at Akiko. ‘For her life.’

Jack felt as if all the breath had been
knocked out of him. He knew their situation was desperate, but the
daimyo
’s statement brought home the grim truth. As prisoners of a loyal
supporter of the Shogun, they were destined to die. Yet a chance, however slim and
uncertain, had been offered to save Akiko’s life.

‘He’s just playing a cruel game
with us,’ whispered Akiko.

‘You’re right. But what a prize
to win,’ said
daimyo
Kato, his hearing keen as a hawk’s.
‘While all traitors
must
be punished by death, clemency is possible in
certain circumstances. I’ve considerable influence with the Shogun. Defeat my
champion,
gaijin
, and, I assure you, your lady will live.’

Although Akiko urged him to refuse, Jack
nodded his acceptance of the challenge. Akiko’s welfare was all that mattered now.
And he would fight till his last breath to save her.

The officer led Jack at sword point over to
the
dohyō.
Two attendants stripped him to the waist, then shoved him into the
ring. The samurai patrol eagerly crowded round the edge to watch the spectacle. Akiko
remained kneeling with one of the samurai guarding her closely. She offered Jack an
encouraging smile, but her eyes couldn’t disguise her concern. The inevitable
result of the forthcoming bout was impossible to ignore as Riku stood on his slab-like
feet, an immovable mound of flesh and muscle, waiting to destroy him.

Nonetheless, Jack took up position behind
his white start line. The referee in the purple robes turned to him. Although he was a
great deal shorter, the man somehow managed to look down his nose in distaste at Jack
when he spoke. ‘The winner of the bout is the first wrestler to force his opponent
out of the ring, or make him touch the ground with any part of his body other than his
feet,’ explained the referee. ‘It is
against
the rules to use
fists, pull hair, or choke your opponent. Is that clear?’

Jack nodded. Despite never having fought
sumo
-style before, he had trained in
taijutsu
and was familiar
with a number of wrestling techniques. Almost every day at the
Niten Ichi Ryū
,
Sensei Kyuzo had tested their throwing and grappling skills.

Break their balance, break the
opponent!
That was what Sensei Kyuzo had drilled into them.

Jack rapidly assessed his opponent. There
was no way he could match Riku’s brute strength or sheer weight, but he did have
the advantage of agility and a longer reach. If he timed his movements so that Riku
overcommitted to an attack, he might be able to use the wrestler’s immense power
against
himself. He would only have one chance at this, so he had to
make it count. Adjusting his feet for the best stability, Jack felt the coarse sand
between his toes and the hard unyielding clay beneath. He dropped into a crouch, his
knuckles on the line, and readied himself for the charge.

Glaring at Jack, Riku raised his left leg
high and stomped the ground. Then he lifted his right leg and brought this crashing
down. Each time his foot pounded the clay, Jack felt the whole
dohyō
shudder.
The wrestler was like an earthquake about to happen and Jack was directly in its path.
Then Riku broke away and stepped out of the ring. He drank a ladleful of water from a
bucket before drying his lips with a piece of rice paper. Returning to his white line,
Riku squatted, clapped his hands and spread them wide …

In his determination to win, Jack had
forgotten about the
sumo
rituals that preceded the actual bout. He now mirrored
Riku’s gesture, opening out his arms to show he held no weapons. Satisfied, Riku
returned to his corner and scattered a handful of salt. With the ring purified, he
crouched once more in front of Jack and locked eyes with him. To Jack, it was like
staring into a fathomless pit – Riku’s stony gaze giving nothing away.

Daimyo
Kato had spoken the truth
when he said
sumo
was a battle of the minds.

Riku’s glare continued to bore into
him and Jack shifted uncomfortably. At that tiny lapse in concentration, Riku charged.
The speed of his attack was inconceivable for his size. Jack barely had time to raise
his arms before Riku almost pulverized him. Meaty forearms slammed into Jack’s
chest. Hands like rocks slapped at his face. As the avalanche of muscle
and flesh bowled into him, all Jack’s tactics crumbled like a castle made of
sand.

He numbly felt the edge of the ring with his
back foot and in a last-ditch effort tried to stall Riku’s charge. But the
wrestler, rather than going for a final push, grabbed Jack by an arm and a leg and
lifted him high above his head. Flailing helplessly in Riku’s grip, Jack was then
slammed into the clay ring. The impact was bone-shattering; Jack’s skeleton
rattled like a child’s toy, even his brain seeming to shake inside his skull. Yet
through the pain all Jack could think of was that he’d failed to save
Akiko’s life.

‘Disappointing,’ remarked the
daimyo
, as Jack gave an agonized groan and curled up in the foetal position
on the
dohyō
. ‘I expected more from the infamous
gaijin
samurai.’

Although Jack’s body throbbed as if a
stampeding bull had thundered over him, he wasn’t defeated. With an immense effort
of will, he pulled himself back to his feet and gasped, ‘I demand … a
rematch … now I understand the rules. Best out of three!’

The
daimyo
raised his eyebrows in
surprise. ‘I do admire your fighting spirit,
gaijin
. On your head be
it.’

Splashing water in his face with the ladle,
Jack revived himself and took up position at the white marker.
Daimyo
Kato
dipped his fan to indicate to the official to commence the match. Riku re-entered the
ring and faced off against Jack.

‘I’ll break
every
bone
in your body,
gaijin
,’ warned Riku, loosening his neck with a crack.

‘I’ll do the same to you,’
replied Jack, ‘if I can find any!’

Riled by the insult, Riku began stomping the
ring.

This time Jack followed all the rituals of
sumo
: clapping his
hands, stamping his feet and tossing
the salt. If Riku was offended or thought Jack was ridiculing him, he didn’t show
it. He remained as stone-faced as before. As they crouched opposite each other, his hard
and glassy stare focused on Jack, Riku gave no ground on their mental battlefield. Yet
neither did Jack. This resulted in a second round of staring. On this occasion, Jack
played to Riku’s overconfidence and feigned a flash of doubt. Riku registered it
but broke away without charging, trying to hide the smug grin of certain victory on his
face.

They both returned to the ring, Riku tossing
salt. Taking up their fighting positions, the battle of wills reached its peak. The
moment both fists touched the sand, Riku exploded into a charge. But, like a spitting
cobra, Jack flicked the salt he still held into the eyes of his opponent. Riku was
momentarily blinded, allowing Jack to neatly sidestep him. Sweeping his right foot
across, Jack knocked Riku’s legs from under him. His balance taken, the wrestler
tumbled head first into the sand. His own momentum drove him forward and over the edge
of the raised
dohyō.
Riku landed like a beached whale on the woodblock floor
below. A muffled crack and cries of pain filled the hall: not just from Riku, who rolled
around like a defective Daruma Doll, the force of the drop having broken several ribs,
but also from the two samurai who’d captured Akiko. They lay pinned beneath the
mammoth wrestler, Riku’s immense weight crushing the breath from them.

Payback for Akiko!

Dusting his hands of the salt, Jack locked
eyes with Riku. ‘Seems I did find a bone or two to break!’

36
 
 

With Riku struggling to rise for a third
bout, even with the help of two attendants, Jack turned to
daimyo
Kato and
declared, ‘Final match is forfeit. I win.’

‘No!’ said
daimyo
Kato
firmly. ‘You cheated.’

‘I used tactics,’ corrected
Jack. ‘You said the conqueror and conquered are decided in the blink of an eye.
Riku blinked.’

Outfoxed,
daimyo
Kato fumed, his
face contorting in silent rage. His hands gripped his fan so tightly it was on the verge
of snapping in half. Then the referee stepped in.

‘The
gaijin
is
disqualified,’ he announced, ‘for being over his start line.’

‘I wasn’t –’

‘The referee’s decision is
final
,’ cut in the
daimyo
, with an imperious sneer, as the
sumo
official turned his back on Jack’s protests and left the
ring.

Jack realized the samurai lord
had
been playing a cruel game with him, one that he’d had no intention of letting Jack
win. Incensed, Jack glanced at Akiko held prisoner at the feet of the smugly smiling
daimyo
.
Forever bound to one another
, he mouthed to her, then
leapt from the
dohyō.

The samurai patrol, clustered round the
defeated wrestler and their crushed comrades, were too distracted to notice Jack’s
bid for freedom. As he touched down on the
dojo
floor, Jack targeted the neck
of the nearest samurai with a knife-hand strike. The man collapsed like a puppet whose
strings had been cut. Jack swiftly unsheathed the
katana
from the
samurai’s
saya
as he fell.

The patrol officer, suddenly realizing what
was happening, rushed to draw his own sword. Jack floored him with a spinning elbow
strike to the jaw. He took out the next samurai using the brass pommel of his
katana
’s handle, embossing the man’s forehead with the dragon
design that adorned the end. The five other samurai finally pulled themselves together
and drew their weapons. In a frenzied attack, Jack charged into them, knocking one
samurai over the writhing body of Riku and attacking another with his sword.

At the same time as Jack was decimating the
patrol, Akiko dropped forward as if to bow to the
daimyo
, then mule-kicked the
guard behind her. The samurai went flying. He landed unceremoniously on his backside and
skidded across the polished woodblock floor. Leaping cat-like to her feet, Akiko raced
to help Jack. But the two
sumo
wrestlers from the earlier bout charged to
intercept her. As they converged on either side, determined to crush her between their
bloated bodies, Akiko sprang into the air and somersaulted away. The two titans collided
head first. There was a sickening crack of skulls and they collapsed in a fleshy useless
heap.

Jack fought furiously, but with only a
single
katana
to keep the four samurai at bay he was in mortal danger. As he
deflected a blade slicing for his chest, he heard the ominous
whoosh
of a
sword cut from behind. With no hope of avoiding it, Jack anticipated
the icy sensation of razor-sharp steel scything through his flesh. But the blade missed
and the sword clattered to the floor as his attacker let out a pained grunt and crumpled
where he stood.