by Unknown
‘Don’t you ever stop eating?’ Taro demanded, giving his brother a despairing shake of the head. ‘What will our father say, when you can’t fit into your armour?’
Saburo glared at Taro. ‘As if he’d notice with you flashing your two swords about –’
‘Will you both please stop arguing?’ interrupted Kiku. ‘Emi’s riding first for our school.’
Looking to the head of the course, the daimyo’s daughter was already mounted upon her steed. She was anxiously adjusting her quiver and arrows as she awaited the signal to start. The crowd quietened in anticipation.
Lots had been drawn to determine the order of the three riders from each school. They were competing for two prizes, one to be awarded for the best archer and another for the school with the highest number of targets struck and broken.
An official waved a large paper fan with a single red sun emblazoned on it and Emi was off, her horse galloping at a breakneck speed down the track. She let go of the reins and reached for her jindou. Nocking the wooden-tipped arrow, Emi cried out ‘In-Yo!’ and took aim at the first target.
But her horse veered slightly on the approach and she had to grab for the reins. There was a groan of disappointment as she shot by the mark. Jack had to admire Emi’s skilled horsemanship, though. She recovered quickly and readied herself for the second target. Letting fly her arrow, she struck it dead centre and a cheer erupted from the Niten Ichi Ryū.
Now into the flow, Emi smoothly strung a jindou for the final target. But her horse was galloping at such a pace that she was soon alongside the mark. Quickly aiming and firing, her arrow caught the edge of the wooden board, breaking off the bottom corner.
The crowd applauded her run. Sensei Yosa took Emi’s horse by the reins and congratulated her. Two strikes was a fine achievement. Masamoto-sama seemed pleased too, bowing his head respectfully in Emi’s direction.
Next up was a boy from the Yoshioka Ryū. He appeared more confident than Emi. The signal fan went up and at once he spurred on his horse. Flying down the course, he took out the first target with practised ease.
But his over confidence got the better of him. Standing high in the saddle, he lost his balance before the second mark. His horse stumbled slightly and the boy went tumbling to the ground, bouncing a couple of times through the dirt before rolling to a stop.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the crowd waited to see if he had survived the heavy fall. Then, with the aid of a couple of officials, the boy got to his feet and limped to the sidelines. The students all gave him a sympathetic round of applause, but Yoshioka-san in the tower looked thoroughly displeased with his archer’s performance. He flicked his paper fan closed so violently that the spine broke. Jack noticed Masamoto leant over to offer words of condolence, but the samurai ignored him.
‘Did you know that Masamoto-sama and Yoshioka-san once duelled?’ Taro whispered furtively into Jack’s ear.
‘No,’ said Jack.
Saburo nudged Jack with his elbow and rolled his eyes at the prospect of hearing yet another of his brother’s sword stories. He went back to munching on his yakitori, while a boy from the Yagyu Ryū took up position at the head of the course.
‘When Masamoto-sama first arrived in Kyoto, he was an unknown swordsman,’ explained Taro. ‘In order to make his name, he decided to challenge the most renowned school in Kyoto, the Yoshioka Ryū.’
There was a cheer as the Yagyu Ryū archer took out the first target.
‘To everyone’s surprise, Masamoto-sama defeated the head of the school, Yoshioka-san, with only a bokken!’ said Taro, shaking his head in amazement at such an accomplishment.
A groan filled the air, the boy having missed the next target.
‘This was so humiliating for the school that Yoshioka-san’s younger brother now challenged Masamoto-sama to a duel. Once again, Masamoto-sama won, this time gravely injuring his opponent.’
Applause broke forth as the Yagyu boy completed his run. He’d struck two out of the three targets.
‘Incensed at their failure, Yoshioka-san ordered his son to regain the family honour,’ continued Taro, no longer paying attention to the Yabusame competition. ‘Despite being only a young lad, the son agreed and issued a final challenge at the Kodaiji Temple. But he was devious. He laid a trap for Masamoto-sama. Dressed in full battle armour, he arrived with a party of well-armed retainers determined to kill him.’
Jack listened as the next competitor from the Yoshioka Ryū lined up her horse.
‘Masamoto-sama, however, was cunning. Having turned up late to the first two duels, he arrived early this time. Discovering it was an ambush, he concealed himself. Just as they were setting the trap, Masamoto-sama cut a swathe through the retainers and broke the lad’s shoulder with his first attack. Yoshioka-san’s son hasn’t been able to wield a sword since.’
The girl from the Yoshioka Ryū sped down the course and improved the fortune of their team by taking out two targets and clipping the third, though it didn’t break. Yoshioka applauded loudly, shooting Masamoto a haughty look down his nose.
‘Despite the intervening years, Yoshioka-san has never got over the shame and still refuses to speak with Masamoto-sama.’
‘Will you please be quiet?’ said Kiku in exasperation. ‘It’s Akiko’s turn.’
Akiko patted the neck of her white stallion, calming it before the run. Jack crossed his fingers for her. He knew Akiko had been training hard for this moment.
The signal fan went up.
Akiko spurred on her horse.
Jack found himself holding his breath as she nocked, aimed and shot her first jindou. It struck the very centre of the target, exploding it into pieces. The Niten Ichi Ryū cheered her on.
Approaching the second mark, Akiko gripped the stallion with her thighs to steady herself for the shot. The jindou flew straight and true, cracking the target in two. Again, there was rapturous applause and Jack punched the air with delight.
All eyes were on Akiko for the final mark.
But by the time she’d raised her bow, her horse had overshot the last target. A disappointed groan rose from the crowd, but Akiko hadn’t given up. Turning round in her saddle, Akiko fired backwards, demolishing the last target.
The Niten Ichi Ryū went wild.
Unable to contain himself, Jack ran down to congratulate her. By the time he got there, she’d dismounted and was making her way back up the course.
‘You were amazing,’ said Jack. ‘That final shot was unbelievable.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Akiko, smiling bashfully. ‘But I can’t take all the credit. Takuan taught me that technique.’
Jack could have guessed Takuan would be involved somehow.
‘Well, we’d best go and wish him luck then,’ suggested Jack as gallantly as he could. ‘He has a lot to live up to after your performance.’
As they passed the start, the second Yagyu Ryū student set off. Only polite applause greeted the boy when he reached the end of the course. He’d failed to hit a single target.
‘We’re going to win!’ said Jack. ‘The Yagyu Ryū have only broken two targets; the Yoshioka Ryū have three; we’ve got five already.’
‘There’s still a rider from each school to go,’ reminded Akiko, nodding in the direction of a tiny girl from Yoshioka Ryū mounting her horse.
‘I’d be amazed if she can even reach the target, let alone hit it!’ said Jack. ‘Besides, you’re bound to get the prize for best archer.’
The girl, though smaller than the saddle she sat upon, had a fierce look of determination about her. The signal fan went up and she urged her horse into a gallop. Careering down the track, she could hardly stand up in her stirrups. But, incredibly, she managed to nock an arrow and shatter the first target. The second was demolished soon after.
Akiko gave Jack a knowing look.
The girl went for the final mark, but she lost grip of her arrow and it fell to the ground.
‘Told you,’ said Jac
k, a look of triumph on his face. ‘You’re going to win.’
‘You’ve forgotten Takuan, and also the final Yagyu Ryū rider. She might be good enough to win best archer,’ said Akiko, with uncharacteristic malice.
Making final adjustments to her saddle was Moriko. The girl had viciously beaten Akiko during the Taryu-Jiai contest two years ago, a fact Akiko had not forgotten. She was talking earnestly with Kazuki, who stood close by. Taken off-guard by Akiko and Jack’s sudden appearance, the two of them seemed furtive and embarrassed by the interruption.
‘Good luck,’ mumbled Kazuki, bowing.
‘You too,’ she replied, flashing a blackened smile at him. Kazuki pushed past Jack, ignoring him. Jack wondered if he’d been passing on more news from his father, unaware the samurai was really on Masamoto’s side.
Moriko mounted her black steed and headed towards the start.
‘Nice pony trick,’ hissed Moriko, giving Akiko a withering look as she passed by. ‘Shame it won’t count.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Akiko, rising to the bait.
‘You’d ridden past the end of the course,’ gloated Moriko. She trotted off, leaving Akiko stunned and unable to protest.
‘Ignore her,’ said Jack, seeing the concern in Akiko’s eyes. ‘The official’s flag went up. It must have counted. Anyway, who cares if she gets all three targets, we still have Takuan. He won’t fail us, will he?’
31
FALLEN RIDER
Moriko’s horse pounded down the track, snorting under the exertion. But she rode with calm confidence, her eyes locked on the first target. Standing up in her saddle, she maintained perfect balance. With no sense of urgency, Moriko nocked an arrow, drew back on the bow, fired and destroyed the first mark with brutal proficiency.
The next target was also obliterated.
Approaching her final mark, Moriko waited until she was almost alongside before releasing her jindou. The wooden-tipped arrow struck dead centre and annihilated the target, splinters of wood flying in all directions. A huge cheer erupted from the students of the Yagyu Ryū.
Akiko shook her head in dismay. ‘That was impressive,’ she admitted.
‘But shooting backwards surely proves you’re the more skilful archer,’ said Jack.
She smiled kindly at Jack’s belief in her. ‘Let’s wish Takuan good luck. He’ll need it after that display.’
They followed the path round to where the horses were tethered.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Akiko, rushing over to Takuan, who lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his side.
‘I was saddling my horse…’ he gasped, wincing with each breath, ‘when I stepped back and knocked into another horse. It kicked me in the ribs. I think they’re broken.’
‘Will the last rider for the Niten Ichi Ryū please come forward?’ announced an official.
‘Do you think you can still ride?’ asked Jack.
Takuan tried to sit up, but the effort was too much. He shook his head feebly. ‘It hurts like hell. I can hardly breathe.’
‘Final call for the Niten archer!’ shouted the official.
‘But the schools are tied on points,’ said Jack. ‘You only need to hit one target for us to win.’
‘You do it,’ Takuan wheezed.
‘But I’ve not trained on a real horse!’ protested Jack.
‘You let go of the reins last week,’ said Takuan, giving Jack a pained smile.
‘And I fell off!’
‘Jack, don’t worry about it,’ said Akiko, kneeling down beside Takuan. ‘It’s just a competition. It’s more important we look after Takuan.’
Jack realized an opportunity to impress Akiko was about to slip through his fingers. Kazuki was right. Akiko wanted a real samurai, one who wasn’t scared to take a risk.
‘No, I’ll do it,’ he said, untying Takuan’s horse.
He led it to the start line, not daring to look back in case Akiko saw the fear on his face.
Jack gazed down the length of the Yabusame course and swallowed nervously. It appeared to stretch on forever, the targets impossibly small. He shifted in his saddle, trying to get a better grip with his thighs. Takuan’s stallion was so much bigger than his wooden dobbin. Not only that, it had legs! There was simply no way he could do this.
The faces of hundreds of young samurai stared expectantly in his direction. Jack spotted Saburo gawping back at him in shock, a half-eaten stick of yakitori hanging from his open mouth. Sensei Yosa came up on the pretext of checking the bridle on Jack’s horse.
‘Where’s Takuan?’ she hissed, her eyes fiercely glaring up at him.
‘A horse kicked him,’ Jack whispered.
The official raised his red sun fan, signalling Jack to start.
Sensei Yosa took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Well, it’s too late now. Just don’t break your neck!’
Giving Sensei Yosa an uneasy smile, Jack urged his horse on. The stallion quickly built up speed and was soon galloping down the track. Jack gripped the reins and his bow so tightly his knuckles went white.
All too soon, the first target loomed into view. Willing himself to let go, Jack reached behind for one of Takuan’s arrows. Jolted around by the movement of the horse, he struggled to nock the jindou. At the last second, he fumbled it into place and took a desperate potshot at the target.
Jack was so wide of the mark, he almost hit one of the officials. He caught the sound of laughter as he hurtled past. He realized he would have to stand up in his stirrups to have any hope of keeping steady long enough to strike a target.
His horse powered on. Jack snatched another jindou from his quiver as the second target rushed towards him. Throwing caution to the wind, he released the reins and stood. He managed to match the rhythm of his horse and took aim. But an unexpected jolt threw him off balance and Jack went tumbling forward. In desperation, he lunged for the horse’s neck.
There was more laughter from the ranks of young samurai as the gaijin flew past, hanging on for dear life. For Jack, it felt like he was back on-board the Alexandria, wrestling to stay upright on the yardarm in some fearsome storm.
That was it! Jack realized. He just needed to find his sea legs again.
Imagining the horse was the yardarm and forgetting his fear, Jack stood up in his stirrups. He allowed his body to bend and bounce, absorbing the movements of the galloping stallion as if they were waves.
With one more target left, Jack only had moments to prepare. All the training on the back of the dobbin, however, now paid off. Remembering what Sensei Yosa had taught him a year before – ‘When the archer does not think about the target, then they may unfold the Way of the Bow’ – he no longer focused on the final target. He simply let his body go through the motions of nocking, drawing and shooting the arrow. On the wooden horse, he knew he could hit the mark every time, even with his eyes closed. Jack had to trust his instincts.
He let the arrow fly.
His horse thundered on, galloping past the end of the course as Jack reached in vain for the reins hanging below its neck. His first indication that he’d actually struck the Yabusame target came when he heard a distant cheer. But by then Jack was deep into the woods.
* * *
‘You were hilarious,’ said Saburo, later that evening at the school celebrations in the Chō-no-ma. ‘You almost killed an official, strangled your horse, then rode off into the next province!’
‘But he still broke the target,’ reminded Takuan, who sat opposite Jack, his ribs bandaged tightly, surrounded by several concerned girls.
‘It was a team effort,’ said Jack, toasting Takuan with a cup of sencha that Akiko had just poured him. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Modest to the last,’ said Yamato. ‘He usually takes all the glory!’
Yamato gave Jack a friendly nudge in the ribs to let him know he was teasing.
‘How are you feeling, Takuan?’ asked Emi.
‘Much better,’ he replied, bowing his head to he
r as she joined them at their table. ‘Sensei Yamada says it’s probably only a cracked rib. The bruising is already fading thanks to the herbal ointment you gave me.’
Emi smiled coyly. ‘It’s just something my nurse had to hand.’
Saburo looked pointedly at Jack, then whispered in his ear, ‘How does he do it? Even the daimyo’s daughter is running round after him!’
Suppressing a grin, Jack took another sip of his green tea.
‘Kohai!’ called Masamoto from the far end of the Hall of Butterflies.
The students ceased their chattering and turned to the head table.
‘Once again, young samurai, you have made me proud. Triumphing against the Yagyu Ryū and Yoshioka Ryū proves we are the greatest samurai school in Kyoto!’
The students gave an almighty cheer.
‘We are doubly fortunate to also have the best Yabusame archer in Kyoto,’ he added, inclining his head in Akiko’s direction.
Akiko bowed humbly and Jack beamed at her with pride. The Yabusame officials had awarded her the prize in light of her exceptional rear-facing shot. It had been the first time any student had successfully executed such a technique in an inter-school Kyosha. Moriko had fumed at the decision and later Jack had spotted the girl snapping her arrows in a fit of temper while Kazuki tried to console her.
‘As tradition dictates,’ said Masamoto, lifting his cup of sencha in a toast, ‘winning the Kyosha brings good fortune on the Niten Ichi Ryū for the rest of the year. May it last. Kampai!’
‘Kampai!’ replied the students, returning the toast.
All of a sudden, the doors to the Chō-no-ma flew open. A girl ran in, screaming, ‘The Hall of the Hawk is on fire!’
32
FIRE OF THE HAWK
The magnificent Taka-no-ma was lit up like a bonfire against the night sky. The students formed a line from the school well to the blazing hall, frantically passing buckets to one another. At the front, Jack was dousing the flames on the veranda. The heat was so intense that the hairs on the backs of his arms were all singed and he had to shield his eyes from the fire. Smoke swirled around him and Jack began to choke.
