The Way of the Warrior

by Chris Bradford

  Masamoto was clearly a man who did not expect to be questioned and had a killing streak that ran deep in his veins. He was austere and brusque, and his severe scarring put Jack on edge. He wondered what had happened in the man’s life to disfigure the samurai so badly.

  Yet all those around Masamoto honoured him and Akiko thought him to be ‘one of the greatest samurai to have lived’. He had re-set Jack’s broken arm, a skill beyond that of even the most experienced English surgeons. Jack realized there was so much more to Masamoto than a scarred face and a swift sword.

  A shadow passed across the night lamp, briefly blacking out Jack’s room. Jack instinctively tensed, but there appeared to be no one there. Not even the sound of a footstep.

  Possibly it had been Yamato returning to his quarters or else a breeze dipping the flame, surmised Jack. He turned over to settle down to sleep.

  He closed his eyes and imagined himself, as he often did at night, standing on the prow of the Alexandria, returning home to England, triumphant, with his father piloting the ship, the hold crammed with gold, silk and exotic eastern spices, Jess waving to them from the harbour…

  Another shadow passed across the room.

  Jack opened his eyes, having sensed the room darken. Behind him, he heard the shoji slide softly back.

  No one ever entered his bedroom during the night. Ever so quietly, Jack reached for his bokken, lying by the edge of his futon. He held his breath, listening intently.

  There was the unmistakable creak of the wooden veranda and the slightest pad of a foot coming to rest on the tatami as someone stepped into his room.

  Jack spun off his futon, rolling to one knee, simultaneously bringing the bokken up to defend himself. A flash of silver flew past his face and a shuriken thwacked into a wooden beam behind him.

  Jack froze.

  Crouched in front of him was the shadow warrior, his single green eye fixed upon Jack.

  ‘Dokugan Ryu!’ uttered Jack in disbelief.

  20

  AKIKO

  Dragon Eye momentarily faltered at the mention of his name.

  Jack seized the initiative. There was no way he could defeat the ninja, but there was still a chance he could escape.

  Jack flung himself with all his might at the outside wall of his bedroom. The thin wooden crossbeams splintered and the fragile paper tiles disintegrated as his body ripped through the wall.

  Semi-stunned by the collision, Jack staggered to his feet, snatched up his bokken and, without a backward glance in Dragon Eye’s direction, sprinted away down the veranda.

  Jack caught a glimpse of two shadows flitting through the garden and another one entering a room further ahead.

  Akiko! He had to warn her.

  The noise of the breaking shoji had roused the household and the cook stepped out on to the veranda to see what was happening. Bleary-eyed and bemused at the young gaijin running straight towards him, they almost collided but Jack jumped aside at the last second.

  As he did so, a second shuriken flew over his shoulder and plunged itself into the neck of the cook. The cook registered a look of mild surprise, shock blocking out the pain of the weapon now embedded in his throat. He gurgled something indecipherable at Jack, then flopped to floor.

  Jack kept running, Dragon Eye in deadly pursuit.

  Jack switched direction and dived through an open shoji just as Taka-san emerged brandishing both his swords.

  Dragon Eye was caught off-guard by Taka-san’s sudden appearance. Taka-san, battle-hardened and courageous, gauged the situation in a single glance. With calculated precision he cut at the ninja’s head. Dragon Eye evaded the strike, bending effortlessly like a blade of grass in a breeze, and Taka-san’s katana sliced through thin air, passing just above the ninja’s upturned face.

  Then Dragon Eye twisted and let loose a lightning kick into Taka-san’s midriff which sent the samurai careering into a nearby pillar.

  Dragon Eye drew his own sword from the saya strapped to his back and advanced on Taka-san.

  The ninjatō with its distinctive square tsuba, hand guard, had a straighter, shorter blade than the katana of the samurai, but was no less deadly. Dragon Eye attacked without remorse.

  Taka-san blitzed Dragon Eye with his own barrage of lethal blows and drove the ninja back along the veranda.

  Meanwhile, Jack escaped into another room, only to be confronted by a second ninja. Fortunately for Jack, this ninja had his back turned, focused on fighting someone else who was frantically fending him off. But the ninja’s victim suddenly lost their footing and dropped to the floor. Jack glimpsed Yamato’s face, drained white with fear, staring up at his assailant. The ninja raised his ninjatō to deliver the killing strike on Yamato.

  ‘Nooooo!’ screamed Jack.

  All the confusion, fear, pain and anger he had suffered since his father had been murdered welled up like a volcano.

  The ninja were responsible for the death of his father, his friends, his crew, and now were attacking the only other family he knew. Jack’s muscles exploded with burning aggression and, without thinking, he charged the ninja.

  Startled, the ninja spun round, his ninjatō at the ready, but Jack drove his bokken down with every ounce of strength he possessed on to the ninja’s sword arm. Jack heard a sickening crack as the ninja’s wrist snapped and the man let loose a howl of pain.

  Jack brought his weapon round for a second attack, trying to recall everything Yamato had taught him. He aimed for the ninja’s head.

  The ninja miraculously ducked, then flung himself out of the way, picking up the dropped sword with his undamaged left hand as he rolled. The ninja snarled at Jack, his broken wrist hanging useless by his side.

  Jack backed away, suddenly aware of the danger he was now in. He was trying to fight a ninja!

  The ninja shifted his grip on the sword and Jack noted his opponent was not so comfortable using his left arm. Realizing he would only get one shot at this, Jack prayed that this small advantage would give him the opening he needed. But where should he strike? Every time he moved, the ninja instantly made to counter.

  Then Masamoto’s duel flashed before his eyes – the bluff that had made Godai over-confident and permitted Masamoto to win.

  Jack let his kissaki drop, feigning defeat exactly as Masamoto had done.

  The ninja, sensing an easy kill, hissed and slid forward. He drew his weapon back to cut at Jack’s head with a backhanded slice. At the last second, Jack side-slipped the sword and brought his own bokken straight across the man’s gut. The ninja buckled to the floor, heaving like a felled boar. Jack spun round on his heels and brought his bokken down hard on to the back of the man’s head. With a thunk, the ninja dropped unconscious to the tatami.

  Jack stood over the prone body, astounded at his own strength, his bokken trembling uncontrollably in his hands, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  ‘Where did you learn that move?’ asked Yamato, hurriedly getting to his feet.

  ‘From your father,’ said Jack, his mouth thick and dry with shock.

  ‘Arigatō, gaij–… Jack,’ said Yamato, deliberately correcting himself and giving a brief but respectful bow. Their eyes locked and, for a second, an unspoken bond of comradeship passed between them.

  ‘We need to find Akiko,’ said Jack urgently, breaking the moment.

  ‘Hai!’ agreed Yamato, running out on to the veranda and along to Akiko’s room, Jack following close behind.

  Taka-san could be heard still battling with Dragon Eye, and Jack glanced over his shoulder to see Taka-san driving the ninja back towards the little bridge.

  ‘Listen,’ breathed Yamato, but from the outside Akiko’s room was ominously silent.

  Yamato pulled back the shoji to reveal the inert body of a girl, her blood spreading in a large red pool on the tatami.

  ‘NO! Akiko!’ shouted Jack.

  She lay face down on the floor, her arms outspread as if still vainly trying to escape death. Jack knelt beside t
he body, his eyes welling up with hot angry tears. He reached over and pulled back the hair from her face, to reveal the porcelain features of Chiro, her maid.

  Jack anxiously glanced up at Yamato. Where was Akiko?

  Then they heard the sound of movement in the adjoining room. They flung open the inner shoji to discover Akiko facing not one but two armed ninja. She held a short staff in one hand and her unwrapped obi in the other.

  One of the ninja wielded a short tantō, the other a ninjatō. They attacked simultaneously.

  Akiko did not hesitate. She flicked the long band of her obi into the eyes of the ninja with the sword. Like a whip, it cracked across his face, momentarily blinding him. The ninja with the tantō, surged forward and slashed at her face. In one flowing motion, Akiko blocked it with her short staff, stepped between the two ninja, and chopped her obi hand down on to the neck of her assailant. The ninja, stunned by the blow, dropped his tantō and staggered backwards against the far wall.

  The other ninja let out a venomous hiss and ran at her with his sword. Akiko spun on her attacker and, rapidly twirling her obi, wound it round the ninja’s outstretched sword arm. She tugged hard on her obi, but in so doing drew the weapon straight towards her.

  Jack shouted a warning. But she deftly evaded the blade and purposefully guided it in the direction of the other ninja. The ninja was now so off balance that he couldn’t stop his forward momentum and his sword sunk deep into his comrade’s chest.

  Akiko had been so quick that Jack and Yamato had barely stepped into the room before it was all over. The ninja swiftly withdrew his sword, but was too late. His comrade, choking with blood, slumped dead on the tatami.

  Turning, he faced the three children – a girl, a boy and a gaijin! They stood their ground, raising their weapons as one. Unnerved by their daring, he shot one glance at his fallen comrade and fled.

  ‘How… did you do that?’ stammered Jack, astounded at Akiko’s lightning skills.

  ‘Japanese women don’t just wear kimonos, Jack,’ she replied, indignant at his incredulity.

  Outside, they heard Taka-san shouting.

  ‘Quick! Taka-san needs our help,’ she said, hurrying to the door ahead of the two boys.

  They raced out into the garden just in time to see Dragon Eye run Taka-san through with his sword. All three of them screamed at the top of their lungs and charged Dragon Eye as one.

  Dragon Eye stepped away from Taka-san’s body, pulling his sword out, and turned to confront them. Taka-san crumpled to the ground, clutching his bleeding stomach and hacking up blood. Jack, Akiko and Yamato formed a protective ring round their wounded friend.

  ‘Young samurai! How novel!’ laughed Dragon Eye, amused at the absurd sight of three children wielding weapons.

  ‘Not too young to die, though,’ he added with sinister malevolence.

  The two other ninja emerged out of the darkness, weapons at the ready. Jack noted that one of them cradled a broken wrist to his chest. Clearly didn’t hit him hard enough, thought Jack bitterly.

  ‘Rutter,’ hissed Dragon Eye, his solitary green eye flaring at Jack. ‘Where is it?’

  21

  NITEN ICHI RYŪ

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Jack, thinking on his feet.

  Akiko and Yamato exchanged puzzled glances. Was Jack the reason for the attack?

  ‘Liar!’ countered Dragon Eye. ‘We wouldn’t be here unless they knew you had it.’

  Suddenly there was a high whistling in the air and the soft sound of a fleshy impact. The ninja with the broken wrist fell face down on the snowy ground, an arrow quivering in his back.

  ‘Masamoto!’ spat Dragon Eye.

  Masamoto, swords drawn, charged into the garden flanked by four samurai. Three more samurai thundered across the veranda, stringing fresh arrows on to their bows.

  ‘Another time, gaijin,’ promised Dragon Eye, before fleeing with the remaining ninja over the bridge.

  Yamato dragged Akiko and Jack to the ground as arrows shot overhead. The first arrow caught the trailing ninja in the leg. The second pierced his throat. The third was targeted on Dragon Eye, who leapt cat-like into the cherry blossom tree, the arrow flying beneath him and embedding itself in the trunk. Dragon Eye swung from the lower branch, dislodging a thick curtain of snow, and deftly flipped himself over the wall, before escaping into the night.

  ‘By Akuma! Who was that?’ demanded Masamoto as he levelled with them.

  ‘Dragon Eye,’ said Jack, getting back to his feet.

  ‘Dokugan Ryu?’ echoed Masamoto, incredulous, then shouted at the nearest samurai. ‘Captain! Fan out. Secure the house. Raise all our samurai from the village. By the memory of my son, Tenno, find this so-called Dragon and destroy him!’

  The captain barked orders at his retinue of samurai and they disappeared into the night. Masamoto, beckoning a heavyset samurai and a distraught Hiroko over from the house, turned back to Jack, Yamato and Akiko, who still knelt upon the ground cradling the wounded Taka-san in her arms.

  ‘Kuma-san here will look after you all. He is one of my most loyal samurai. Don’t worry about Taka-san, Akiko,’ he said, noting the pleading look in her eyes. ‘I will have him tended to. Now go!’

  The next day, Jack, Akiko and Yamato were summoned to see Masamoto in his chamber.

  ‘Be seated,’ he ordered curtly.

  Masamoto, sitting in his usual place on the raised platform, appeared to Jack to be less composed than on previous occasions. His scarring was more inflamed and his voice tight and hoarse.

  Hiroko poured him sencha.

  ‘Dokugan Ryu has not been found,’ he said bluntly, clearly displeased at his samurais’ failure. ‘My scouts had word of a sighting of ninja from Matsuzaka village, ten ri from here. We came as fast as we could. However, our horses were not swift enough to save Chiro.’

  Hiroko stifled a sob and Masamoto signed for her to make a discreet exit. They all knew she was grief-stricken by the loss of her faithful maid.

  ‘Masamoto-sama, may I ask how Taka-san is?’ enquired Akiko.

  ‘He is comfortable, Akiko-chan. His wound is deep, but I have been told he will recover with time. Dokugan Ryu is a formidable enemy and he fought with valour.’

  Masamoto scrutinized all of them.

  ‘He was fortunate, though, to have you three by his side. You acted with true bushido. Do you know what that is, Jack-kun?’

  ‘No, Masamoto-sama,’ replied Jack and bowed as he had been taught by Akiko.

  ‘Bushido means “Way of the Warrior”, Jack-kun. It is our samurai code of conduct. It is unwritten and unsaid. It is our way of life. Bushido is only known through action.’

  Masamoto took a deep draught of his sencha before continuing.

  ‘The seven virtues of bushido are rectitude, courage, benevolence, respect, honesty, honour and loyalty. Last night, each of you demonstrated these virtues through your actions.’

  He let the weight of his words hang in the air. All three bowed low in appreciation.

  ‘I have one question, though. For I’m mystified as to why Dokugan Ryu should rear his head again. I cannot believe he’s still under the employ of my daimyo’s enemies. That threat has passed. The men responsible for that assassination attempt are now all dead, by my own hand. I can only assume he has a new mission, but how that involves my family again I do not know. So, did Dokugan Ryu give you any indication as to why he dares attack the sanctity of this house?’

  Jack remained silent, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable under his kimono. He could sense Masamoto’s eyes on him. Should he reveal the truth about the rutter? Chiro had died because of it, yet his father had strictly commanded that he keep it secret. The rutter was his lifeline home and until Jack knew who wanted the rutter, he could not reveal the book’s true purpose to anyone, not even to Masamoto.

  ‘Jack…’ began Yamato.

  But Akiko glared at Yamato, her eyes clearly stating that it was Jack’s duty to tell M
asamoto if he knew anything. Not Yamato’s.

  ‘Yes, Yamato?’

  ‘Jack…’ Yamato waivered, ‘saved my life. He defeated a ninja with his bokken.’

  ‘Jack-kun, you have skill in weaponry? My, my, you have surpassed my expectations,’ said Masamoto with a surprised expression, his question about Dokugan Ryu momentarily forgotten. ‘I sensed from the first time I laid eyes upon you that you possessed strength of character. Indeed the essence of bushido spirit.’

  ‘It was Yamato’s training that made it possible, Masamoto-sama,’ replied Jack, keen to give Yamato the credit in order to impress his father. He also hoped it would lead the conversation away from the rutter.

  ‘Excellent. But he is no teacher,’ stated Masamoto with no malice or intent, but his blunt comment cut deep at Yamato’s pride.

  Jack felt sorry for Yamato. Nothing he did ever seemed good enough to gain Masamoto’s respect. His own father, on the other hand, had always been quick to recognize his achievements. A bitter pang of grief swept through Jack as he thought how proud his father would have been. He had defeated a ninja!

  ‘Jack-kun. You have proven yourself worthy to follow the Way of the Warrior. I decree therefore that you are to train at the Niten Ichi Ryū, my “One School Of Two Heavens”. Whatever Dokugan Ryu’s intentions are, you’ll be safer under my direct supervision. Tomorrow we shall leave for Kyoto.’

  22

  THE TOKAIDO ROAD

  Dawn had barely broken when Jack was roused from his bed by the noise of horses’ hooves and the curt shout of a commanding samurai bringing their troop to a halt outside the house.

  Jack gathered together what few possessions he had: his spare kimono and obi, extra tabi, a pair of sandals, his bokken and, most important of all, his father’s rutter. He picked up the priest’s dictionary, not forgetting his promise to deliver it to Father Bobadilla in Osaka when the chance arose, and stuffed it along with the other items in a shoulder bag. With a final check to ensure the rutter was safely stored at the bottom, away from prying eyes, he stepped out on to the veranda.