The Way Of The Dragon (22 page)

Hiroto, Goro and Nobu burst into laughter before carrying on down the corridor to their rooms. Insulted, Jack and Saburo ran to the door. But unable to think of a suitable comeback to Kazuki’s abuse, they could only glare after them.

Yori remained where he was, transfixed by the bowl still humming away.

Akiko’s defence crumpled under Masamoto’s onslaught.

Having already lost her
wakizashi
to an Autumn Leaf strike, she valiantly tried to sustain her attack. But Masamoto’s skill was unassailable. He drove forward, knocking Akiko’s
katana
from her grasp and bringing his sword down upon her head. In a fit of apparent insanity, Akiko slammed her hands together either side of the sword.

There was a gasp of utter astonishment from the Two Heavens students standing down one side of the Hall of the Phoenix.

Akiko had caught Masamoto’s blade with her bare hands!

‘Not the recommended defence for a samurai,’ said Masamoto, strangely unfazed by Akiko’s miraculous skill. ‘You could easily lose your fingers.’

Akiko let go, suddenly self-conscious of her feat. She picked up her swords and rejoined Jack in line. Jack couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. Blocking a sword like that was a technique far beyond their samurai training. But before he could question Akiko, Masamoto summoned him on to the floor. Immediately the training duel began.

Jack struggled to defend himself against Masamoto’s double sword attack. Blocking the cut to his head with his
wakizashi
, Jack thrust his
katana
in a counterstrike at his guardian’s throat. But Masamoto effortlessly sidestepped the threat, bringing his own
katana
slicing across Jack’s chest.

Their swords clashed.

Without thinking, Jack struck down hard upon Masamoto’s blade with his
kissaki
. Twice.

The sword clattered to the
dojo
floor.

All the students now stared in wide-eyed amazement at Jack, apart from Taro who bore a proud grin.

It took a moment for Jack to realize what he’d done.

He’d disarmed the legendary swordmaster, Masamoto Takeshi.

He’d accomplished a perfect Autumn Leaf strike.

‘I did it!’ breathed Jack. ‘I’ve mastered the Two Heavens.’

But the duel wasn’t over. Masamoto still had his
wakizashi
.

Before Jack could exploit his advantage, Masamoto had changed grip on the short training sword and threw it at Jack. The hilt struck him hard in the chest. Staggering backwards, his heel caught on the edge of the dais and he crashed to the floor.

‘You’re dead,’ stated Masamoto, ending the duel.

Breathless and exasperated, Jack tried to protest, ‘But
that
... wasn’t sword fighting… You threw it at me.’

‘Mountain to Sea,’ replied Masamoto, offering Jack no sympathy. ‘In order to break through your double guard and win, I had to change tactics. I had to attack in a manner that wouldn’t be expected. In other words, move from the Mountain to the Sea. Learn from this, young samurai.’

Jack got to his feet and returned Masamoto’s
wakizashi
to him.

‘It’s satisfying to see you’ve grasped the Autumn Leaf strike at last, but do
not
confuse individual sword techniques with the Two Heavens style as a whole,’ reprimanded Masamoto, his scarred face stern and unsmiling.

Jack bowed his head in acknowledgement. Carried away by his brief success, it had been foolish to think that he’d suddenly mastered the technique.

‘The true Way of this style is not solely about handling two swords,’ Masamoto explained, now addressing the whole class. ‘The essence of the Two Heavens is the spirit of winning – to obtain victory by any means and with any weapon. Understand this and you’ll be well on the way to mastering the Two Heavens.’

With the snow now gone, the early spring sunshine had encouraged people on to Kyoto’s streets. Jack and Yamato, late as they were for their
Yabusame
class, had to push their way through the crowds. In the marketplace, Jack noticed a tense, edgy atmosphere as harassed shoppers bought provisions. After no word for months, rumours were now spreading that Kamamura’s army was on the march and many people were stocking up in case of war.

‘So how’s the Two Heavens training going?’ asked Yamato.

Jack was taken by surprise at the unexpected question. His friend usually avoided talking about it. Despite Yamato’s prowess in other classes, it reminded him of his failure to live up to his father’s expectations.

‘Good and bad,’ replied Jack. ‘I’ve just discovered the Two Heavens is as much to do with battle strategy, as it is with skill -‘

Suddenly a hand shot out from a side alley and grabbed Jack by the arm. His immediate thought was of
ronin
seizing him for punishment again and he shouted to Yamato for help. At the same time, he instinctively twisted his hand round and put the attacker into a crippling lock. The man fell to his knees, crying out for mercy. In a flash Yamato was by Jack’s side, sword drawn.

‘Don’t kill me!’ pleaded the man as he grovelled on the ground. ‘I mean you no harm.’

‘What do you want then?’ demanded Yamato.

Dirty and dishevelled, the man wore a tattered cowl and cloak, his face was haggard, and his eyes sunken and bloodshot. But the most remarkable thing about him was that he wasn’t Japanese.

‘I… I’m Friar Juan de Madrid,’ he stuttered, his Spanish accent thickly tainting his Japanese. ‘I’m a Franciscan monk from the Church of St Francis in Edo. I saw this boy and thought he could help me.’

‘What could I do?’ asked Jack, wondering how the friar had got into such an appalling state.

‘You’re European. I thought you may be attached to a Spanish or Portuguese vessel.’

‘No. I was shipwrecked here. I’m English.’

‘English!’ exclaimed the friar, stunned. Jack nodded. ‘No matter. In these dreadful times, we must be allies, not enemies. As I said, I’ve come from Edo in the north where I’ve been for many years, had a faithful congregation, but now that’s all gone… gone…’

Tears welled up in his eyes.

‘Come to the
Niten Ichi Ryū
,’ suggested Jack, kneeling down to try and comfort the friar. ‘You’ll be safe there.’

‘No. No one’s safe,’ the friar shot back. ‘
Daimyo
Kamakura’s army has destroyed all Christian churches and burnt down our houses, even as we slept in them! Those friars and Jesuit priests that didn’t die by the fire were slaughtered by the sword…’

The friar was convulsed in sobs as he relived the horror of the massacre.

‘But why weren’t you killed?’ demanded Yamato, his sword still at the ready.

‘I don’t know. Somehow I managed to escape. But I’ve lost everything, save the clothes on my back. I’m trying to get to Nagasaki. I have to leave this godforsaken land.’ Clasping Jack’s arms, the friar exclaimed, ‘
Daimyo
Kamakura and his army are headed this way as we speak! We have no time to lose. You should come too! He will kill
you
for sure.’

Looking around in a wild panic, he tried to stand, but his legs gave way under him.

‘You need to rest,’ said Jack, putting his arm round the friar. ‘Let us take you to Sensei Yamada, our Zen master. He’ll look after you.’

It was early the following morning that Sensei Yamada and Jack bid farewell to Friar Juan de Madrid.

‘You’re welcome to stay longer,’ said Sensei Yamada.

‘No, you’ve been too kind already,’ said the friar, bowing humbly. ‘Thank you for the food and fresh robe, but it’s too dangerous to linger.’

Looking at Jack, he implored, ‘Are you
certain
you won’t come with me?’

‘Jack-kun will be safe here with us,’ assured Sensei Yamada.

With that, the friar set off down the road. Jack watched him shamble away, keeping to the shadows. With confirmation that
daimyo
Kamakura’s war had begun in earnest, Jack realized he’d have to give up all hope of retrieving his father’s
rutter
. Fighting a single ninja, even one as ruthless as Dragon Eye, was entirely different from battling a whole army. His greatest concern now was his own life. With each passing day, the threat drew ever closer.

The friar disappeared round the corner without looking back.

‘Perhaps I should have joined him,’ reflected Jack.

Sensei Yamada slowly shook his head.

‘You’re safer in the lion’s den than in a field of snakes,’ replied the Zen master. ‘The road to Nagasaki is hard and dangerous. I doubt the friar will even make it to Kōbe, and that’s barely three days’ journey from here. In these uncertain times, there will be few who will take him in and many who will want to take his head. Masamoto-sama, though, can protect you, Jack-kun. The
Niten Ichi Ryū
is the safest place you can possibly be.’

The
taiko
drum boomed to the thunder of horses’ hooves pummelling the air as the competing archers galloped past. The students jostled for position along the roped-off length of the
Yabusame
course, cheering and applauding their teams. Jack, seeing Akiko, Emi and Takuan fly by, gave a great shout of encouragement.

Spring had finally arrived and with it the exquisite
sakura
blossom that heralded the inter-school archery contest. But in the month that had passed since the friar’s unexpected appearance, many more stories of persecution and massacre, of branding and public burnings, had reached Kyoto. So far, the cleansing and Kamakura’s army had remained within the boundaries of Edo Province. But there was a growing tension among Kyoto’s citizens as more and more of his forces gathered on the border. Even though
daimyo
Kamakura had yet to directly attack a Japanese lord and his army was still seven days’ march from the city, this didn’t allay people’s fears. The lord of Edo could strike at any moment.

Seated high upon the ceremonial wooden tower, Masamoto and Yoshioka, the heads of the
Niten Ichi Ryū
and the
Yoshioka Ryū
, oversaw the proceedings. From their privileged position, they could view the entire course. A third
zabuton
cushion, set aside for the head of the
Yagyu Ryū
,
daimyo
Kamakura, remained ominously vacant.

‘Would you like some chicken?’ asked Saburo, offering Jack a bite of his
yakitori
.

Jack refused. They’d just had lunch.

‘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.