Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (7 page)

Sensei Kyuzo forced Jack’s face into
the dirt as the two
dōshin
came running over.

‘Did you get the other one?’ he
barked.

‘No … he disappeared into
the crowd,’ explained one of the officers sheepishly.

‘Idiots! How could you lose a suspect
dressed like a clown fish?’

‘Sorry, Renzo. He was too
slippery.’

Renzo?
thought Jack.
Have I
mistaken the man?

Spitting dirt from his mouth, Jack tried to
catch another glimpse of his captor. The man certainly looked like his
taijutsu
master. His voice had the same rough edge to it. And his attitude was as harsh and
unforgiving as ever. Then there was the wristlock he had him in:
tekubi
gatamae
. It was classic Sensei Kyuzo, and Jack could never forget the distinctive
pain his teacher was capable of inflicting. Always selected as his
uke
,
demonstration partner, at the
Niten Ichi Ryū
, Jack had suffered many agonizing
sessions being locked, thrown, grappled, kicked and punched by his teacher – all for the
purposes of
authentic
technique. Pinned helpless to the ground now, Jack was
left in no doubt that this
dōshin
was Sensei Kyuzo.

The other two officers stared in
astonishment at their prisoner.

‘You’ve captured the
gaijin
samurai!’ cried the
dōshin
in unison.

‘Yes,’ snapped Sensei Kyuzo
impatiently. ‘Now quit gawping and hand me your
hayanawa
.’

The
dōshin
obediently passed him a
short rope with a small loop on one end. Snatching it from the officer’s grasp,
Sensei Kyuzo dropped his full weight on top of Jack. With a knee pressed painfully into
the small of his back, Jack was swiftly relieved of his swords and pack. Then, in a
matter of seconds, he was trussed up with the
hayanawa
. His hands were bound
behind him and the rope secured round his neck, so that if he struggled the
hayanawa
would choke him. Although still able to walk, Jack was otherwise
powerless to fight back.

Sensei Kyuzo dragged him to his feet.

‘Let’s go,
gaijin
!’
he ordered, shoving Jack down the road.

‘Where are you taking me,
Sen–’

Sensei Kyuzo jabbed his thumbtip between
Jack’s ribs, sending a shockwave of pain through him.

‘Less talking and more
walking.’

As Jack recovered his breath and hobbled on,
he finally figured out why his teacher was being so brutal in silencing him. Benkei had
mentioned that certain samurai warriors who’d opposed the Shogun were being hunted
down. Sensei Kyuzo must be trying to keep his past identity secret. Realizing he’d
almost given the deception away twice, Jack now held his tongue. Besides, he had to
trust Sensei Kyuzo. His
taijutsu
master was his sole hope of escaping this
predicament alive. And, until he discovered what the plan was, he had no choice but to
follow his teacher’s lead.

Sensei Kyuzo and the two
dōshin
escorted him along the main street to a large white building with a curving tiled roof.
Steps led up to the entrance beside which a wooden sign read:

Thanks to Akiko’s patient teaching,
Jack was able to translate the Japanese script. The sign proclaimed:
Bugyō of Oita
District
. Jack knew
bugyō
meant magistrate. Above, a long golden
banner hung from a rafter. Emblazoned in the centre was the circular
mon
of
three hollyhock leaves – the family crest of the Shogun.

Jack’s blood ran cold at the sight.
Not only had Sensei Kyuzo arrested him but he was now turning him over to an official of
their mutual enemy.
Had he been wrong to trust in his
taijutsu
master?
It was true that they’d never seen eye
to eye. From his very first lesson at the
Niten Ichi Ryū
, Sensei Kyuzo had
objected to teaching a foreigner the secrets of their martial arts. And he’d made
little attempt to hide his personal hatred of Jack, bullying him at every opportunity.
But, in spite of the bad blood between them, Sensei Kyuzo had ultimately proven to be
loyal. During the Battle of Osaka Castle, he’d fought a group of ninja
single-handedly – sacrificing himself while Jack and Akiko had made their escape. Sensei
Kyuzo was a true samurai. He would not break the code of
bushido
. Jack was
certain of that.

A guard at the entrance waved them through.
He stared open-mouthed at the appearance of the infamous
gaijin
samurai.

Slipping off their wooden
geta
at
the top of the steps, Sensei Kyuzo led Jack down a corridor to a double set of
fusuma
doors. The two
dōshin
followed close behind, their hands on
their
jutte
at all times. After knocking respectfully, Sensei Kyuzo slid back
the panel doors to reveal a stark white rectangular room with dark wooden ceiling beams.
A
shoji
to their right was left ajar, through which the setting sun shone and
gleamed off the polished woodblock floor. A cool evening breeze wafted in from the stone
Zen garden outside, where a wind chime tinkled softly.

At the far end of the room, a portly man sat
behind a desk studying some papers. Dressed in an ink-blue
kataginu
jacket with
stiffened shoulders like wings, he exuded an air of authority and Jack assumed this was
the
bugyō.
Although the magistrate didn’t look up, Jack noticed his jowls
hung loose, seeming to merge with his neck. And his thinning hair was
overly oiled and tied into a sparse topknot. A
katana
and
wakizashi
sat upon a display rack behind him, their
sayas
brightly polished and silk
handles unblemished. At his side, an Akita hunting dog sat obediently to attention,
regarding Jack with hungry eyes.

The magistrate didn’t bother to
acknowledge their entrance as Sensei Kyuzo marched Jack into the room. Halfway down,
Jack was forced to his knees and made to bow his respects. Still the magistrate barely
glanced up as he selected a fresh piece of paper and dipped a fine brush into an
inkstone.

‘Name?’

Encouraged by a rough prod from a
jutte
, he declared, ‘Jack Fletcher.’

The magistrate started to inscribe the
kanji
characters before the foreign name fully registered. The
bugyō
almost dropped his brush when he realized the Shogun’s most
wanted fugitive knelt before him.

12
 
 

‘How on earth did you catch the
gaijin
?’ enquired the
bugyō
.

‘He was an accomplice to an illegal
betting scam,’ stated Sensei Kyuzo.

The
bugyō
raised his pencil-thin
eyebrows in surprise. ‘So where are the other perpetrators?’

Sensei Kyuzo glared at the two
dōshin
. ‘There was only one other and he got away.’

The magistrate tutted disapprovingly.
‘I don’t like loose ends, but I suppose it’s of little consequence at
a moment like
this
.’

He wet his ink brush again and finished
writing Jack’s name on the paper.

‘Was the
gaijin
carrying any
belongings?’

Sensei Kyuzo nodded and one of the
dōshin
presented the magistrate with Jack’s swords and pack. The
bugyō
inspected the weapons, then laid out the pack’s contents on the
table, making a meticulous inventory of all that he found. To Jack’s
consternation, the magistrate took particular interest in the
rutter
. Then with
surprising care he repacked the bag and instructed the
dōshin
to store the
property in his private office.

Recharging his brush from the inkstone, the
bugyō
now fixed his bulbous eyes on Jack.

‘Before we attend to the greater
matter at hand, we must first deal with your crime here,’ he declared. He
inscribed several more characters on the paper. ‘Jack Fletcher, you’ve been
arrested on the charge of illegal gambling.’

To his astonishment, Jack realized he was on
trial. Already accused of high treason against the Shogun, he stood little chance of a
fair hearing from this magistrate. He glanced up at Sensei Kyuzo, again wondering what
his plan was.

Sensei Kyuzo stepped forward. ‘Is it
really worth trying the
gaijin
when he’s already been sentenced to death
by the Shogun?’

A flicker of annoyance passed across the
magistrate’s face. ‘I’m the
bugyō
for this town and
it’s my responsibility to see that law and order is maintained. This recent plague
of gambling needs to be stamped out. We must set an example to all lawbreakers.
None
should escape the consequences of their crimes, including this
gaijin
. Now, are there any witnesses to the offence?’

The two
dōshin
both bowed in
acknowledgement.

‘He whistled a warning,’ stated
one of them.

The magistrate made a note of this on the
paper and seemed satisfied.

Without offering Jack the opportunity to
plead his case, he declared, ‘In my authority as
bugyō
of Oita District,
I pronounce you, Jack Fletcher, guilty as charged. In respect of the severity of your
crime, you’re sentenced to
yubitsume
.’

Jack had never heard this term before, but
it didn’t sound pleasant and a rising sense of panic gripped him.

‘Is that wise?’ interjected Sensei
Kyuzo. ‘The Shogun signed the warrant for the
gaijin
’s arrest
himself. He should be the one to administer the punishment. This judgment could have an
adverse effect on the reward for his capture.’

‘I, of all people, am aware of the
reward, Renzo,’ said the
bugyō
firmly. ‘Yet the Shogun would surely
respect my duty to uphold
his
law. And I intend to carry it out to the letter.
Besides, the
gaijin
will still be in one piece … my mistake, two
pieces!’

The
bugyō
allowed himself a small
grunt of laughter.

‘But –’

‘Don’t question my authority
again,’ said the
bugyō
tersely, cutting off Sensei Kyuzo. ‘Do as I
say or I’ll charge you with contempt. Carry out the punishment
forthwith.’

Sensei Kyuzo fumed. Nonetheless, he
submitted to his superior’s will with a curt bow of the head. He gave instructions
to the two
dōshin
to bring in the block.

‘If the
gaijin
wishes to act
like a samurai, then he should be punished like one,’ stated the
bugyō
.
‘Finger shortening is a fitting penance and one that would meet the Shogun’s
approval, I’m sure.’

Jack realized he was to be mutilated. Sensei
Kyuzo’s attempt at defence had failed. He
had
to escape, but, bound
helpless, he was unable to avoid the imminent
yubitsume.

The
bugyō
settled back to watch the
proceedings, giving his dog an affectionate pat on the head as a wooden chopping block
was brought in and placed before Jack. One of the
dōshin
laid a ceremonial
white square of cloth on top and smoothed it flat.

Jack silently willed his teacher to make his
move.

Without a word, Sensei Kyuzo unbound
Jack’s left hand and strapped it to the block, palm down.

‘Hold him tight,’ he ordered the
two
dōshin
.

Jack struggled, helpless in their grip. His
throat went dry and his heart began to pound as Sensei Kyuzo unsheathed a razor-sharp
tantō
. The lethal blade caught the last rays of the dying sun, burnishing
the steel an ominous blood-red.

‘Cut off the little finger,’
instructed the
bugyō
, his eyes bulging in cruel anticipation.

Sensei Kyuzo approached the block, his knife
raised. Whatever his
taijutsu
master’s plan, Jack knew this was the final
chance to execute it. As the blade hovered over Jack’s finger, Sensei Kyuzo caught
his eye and grinned. Taking this as the signal, Jack readied himself for his
taijutsu
master to cut his bonds and for them to fight their way out.