The Return of the Warrior

by Chris Bradford

  Rose, who leant against the wall eating an apple, gazed round at the quiet streets. ‘It might be better to wait for market day,’ she suggested, ‘or else Sunday, when most of the parish will be here for church. Otherwise, you could be wasting your time.’

  ‘This is not a waste of time!’ insisted Jack, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

  Rose held up a hand in her defence. ‘Sorry! Just saying, though, you’ve a greater chance when there are people actually around.’

  ‘I’ll keep watch,’ Yori offered. ‘I can stay here and meditate.’

  Jack turned to his friend, who sat on the ground, his shakujō across his lap. ‘But how will you spot her with your eyes closed?’ he asked.

  ‘I can meditate just as well with my eyes open,’ Yori replied. ‘In fact, your sister would be a good focus for my meditation. Meanwhile, the focus of your training would be good for you,’ he suggested gently. ‘It’s important to keep a sharp sword … but not necessarily a sharp tongue.’

  Jack glanced sheepishly at Rose. ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you … I’m worried about my sister with that arrogant …’

  ‘No need to apologize, Jack. I’d be out of my mind if it was my sister!’ Finishing her apple, Rose tossed the core away. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘Signor Horatio’s asked me to get in some provisions for tonight’s dinner. I’ll see you later.’ With that, she strolled away towards a baker’s shop.

  Leaving Yori to keep watch, Jack and Akiko headed up the High Street to the fencing school. As they passed a cluster of people gathered outside the Greyhound Inn, they heard a familiar voice telling a familiar tale.

  ‘… It’s as if the four horsemen of the Apocalypse have descended … It’s not the plague that kills; it’s the doctors themselves …’

  Jack stopped dead in his tracks. He’d been so focused on finding Jess that he’d almost forgotten about the four ninjas on his trail. A shudder ran through him. He knew it was only a matter of time before the assassins caught up with them.

  ‘So how did you escape, then?’ a wide-eyed woman was asking him in concern.

  ‘To tell you the truth, madam, I barely made it out alive,’ the storyteller replied pitifully. ‘I lost everything …’ he added, with a sorrowful shake of his head. ‘I had to abandon all my belongings … and am left with only the gentleman’s clothes that I wear …’

  Jack, followed by Akiko, pushed through the knot of listeners to find the storyteller being comforted by the woman.

  ‘Harold!’ said Jack with a broad smile, as if greeting an old friend. ‘I trust you didn’t lose everything.’

  Harold Westcott glanced up sharply and his face blanched. ‘I-I-I didn’t expect to see you here,’ he stuttered.

  ‘I bet you didn’t,’ said Jack.

  Before Harold could make a bolt for it, Jack unsheathed the rapier on his hip and thrust the tip against the courtesy-man’s throat. Pinned against a wall, Harold swallowed hard in panic. The crowd of onlookers all took a hasty step back.

  ‘Where’s my silver locket?’ demanded Jack.

  Feeling only the blunt leather cap against his skin, Harold regained his courage. ‘Oh, it’s a practice rapier!’ he sneered. Then, laughing off Jack’s threat, he pushed the blade aside and rose to leave. But in a lightning-quick flick of his wrist, Jack slashed the blade’s edge across Harold’s face, leaving a thin line of blood along his cheek. Harold gasped.

  ‘Sit down!’ ordered Jack. ‘Now, unless you want a matching scar on your other cheek, give me back my locket.’

  Offering no further resistance, Harold hurriedly removed the chain from round his neck and shakily passed the locket to Jack. ‘I hope you don’t bear me any ill-will,’ Harold pleaded with an ingratiating smile. ‘I looked after it well.’

  Looping the chain over his own head, Jack considered the grovelling thief before him. Then he flicked the leather cap off the rapier’s tip and thrust the blade at Harold’s gut.

  ‘NO!’ shouted Akiko in alarm. The courtesy-man screamed and the gathered onlookers gasped in horror.

  Slowly, Jack withdrew the blade. There was no blood. But the rapier’s tip had pierced a red leather purse that he now extracted from the folds of Harold’s jacket. ‘No doubt as well as you looked after this lady’s purse!’ said Jack, as Harold, pale-faced and panicking, checked himself for serious injuries.

  ‘Oi! That’s mine!’ cried the wide-eyed woman in outrage.

  Tossing the purse back to its rightful owner, Jack then sheathed his rapier and strolled away from the scene. He’d got what he wanted.

  Akiko hurried to catch him up. ‘For a moment, I thought you were going to kill him,’ she said.

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, I’ll leave justice to take its natural course.’ And behind them there came a sharp cry followed by a plea for mercy as an angry mob dealt with the thief.

  ‘Offence is defence,’ Signor Horatio declared, as Jack and Akiko again took up their positions in the courtyard. ‘Any direct attack by an opponent must be defended and countered in one fluid action – parry and riposte.’

  He beckoned Jack forward. ‘Lunge at me, signor!’

  Jack thrust for the sword master’s heart. Before the blade could make contact with its target, his rapier was deflected and Jack felt the hard prod of a leather tip against his own heart, his sword master’s parry and riposte quicker than the blink of an eye.

  Signor Horatio grinned, enjoying the look of astonishment on both Jack and Akiko’s faces. ‘I’ll slow the action down to teach you.’

  This time Jack was able to see how the sword master rode the rapier with his own blade, redirecting the attack even as he counter-thrusted. It reminded Jack of Masamoto’s Flint-and-Spark strike.

  ‘Be sure to use the forte of the blade against the debole of your opponent’s,’ explained Signor Horatio, first indicating the stronger half of the rapier near the hilt, then the thinner weaker section towards the tip. ‘This gives you the leverage you need in your parry. And, by keeping contact, you maintain control of your opponent’s blade. Now you try, signor.’

  Jack waited for Signor Horatio’s thrust. As the attack came, slow and steady, he met the debole with the forte. Signor Horatio’s sword was deflected off-target while his own struck home in the middle of the sword master’s chest.

  ‘Bravo! A perfect parry and riposte,’ congratulated Signor Horatio. Jack smiled at the praise. ‘Now to do it at speed!’

  Slow had been easy. Fast was an entirely different matter. It took Jack several attempts even just to catch the blade, let alone deflect it. By comparison to his katana’s broader blade, the rapier’s slender strip of steel was almost impossible to see coming. As their rapiers tangled, Jack missed his target yet again. Cursing in frustration, he lowered his sword.

  ‘Don’t despair, Jack,’ encouraged Signor Horatio. ‘Like any martial art, fencing takes practice. Rarely does anyone master it first time.’ He turned to Akiko. ‘Now, signorina, let’s see how you do.’

  Signor Horatio thrust his rapier at her. With a deft touch, Akiko deflected the attack and landed a strike dead centre upon his heart. Signor Horatio’s eyes widened. ‘Magnifico! Perhaps one can master it first time. Why have I not taught women before? Your skill is astounding, signorina!’

  Akiko bowed humbly. ‘I’ve had the benefit of watching Jack first.’

  ‘Pah! You’re a natural!’ said Signor Horatio, as she repeated the feat. Jack merely smiled, accustomed to Akiko’s talent at picking up new techniques.

  After several more rounds of practice, Signor Horatio announced, ‘It’s time you two had a duel. En garde!’

  Jack and Akiko stood in the centre of the courtyard, both in warding stances, their rapiers outstretched, their eyes locked. Despite being no match for her innate skill with a rapier, Jack couldn’t help but feel elated at their imminent duel. Once again he was reminded of the Niten Ichi Ryū and of all the times he’d trained with Akiko and his other friends, like Saburo, Emi and his late Japanese b
rother-in-arms Yamato. While the samurai school had been tough, challenging and at times unbearable, it had also been a place of friendship, love and loyalty. He knew Akiko missed Japan – but he was slowly coming to realize that he did as well.

  ‘Allez!’ called Signor Horatio, commencing the duel.

  Jack tensed as Akiko stood poised like a scorpion ready to strike. Assessing each other as if old enemies, they sought the familiar telltale signs that one of them was about to attack. Jack shifted his foot. Akiko flinched. She twitched the tip of her rapier. He reacted with a flick of his blade. Then, just as he lunged, Rose entered the courtyard.

  ‘Good news!’ she announced, putting down a heavy basket of bread and other provisions.

  Distracted, Jack’s face immediately turned to look at her. At the same time his attack was parried and a lightning-fast riposte struck him in the chest. ‘Touché!’ cried Signor Horatio. ‘Akiko wins!’

  But Jack didn’t care who had won or lost. He only cared about what Rose had to say.

  ‘Sorry, Jack, nothing to do with your sister,’ said Rose, answering his querying look. ‘But they have found Rakesby … or at least what’s left of him!’

  ‘Can you see how Jack invites an attack?’ whispered Signor Horatio to Rose, as they leant over the balcony watching the duel play out in the courtyard below. ‘He’s intentionally left his high outside flank open to encourage Akiko to strike there.’

  ‘Then why isn’t she attacking?’ asked Rose under her breath.

  A sly smile crept across Signor Horatio’s lips. ‘She’s too clever to fall for that old trick.’

  In the courtyard, Jack and Akiko warily circled each other, rapier and parrying dagger in hand. The two students had a right to be cautious. Over the course of the week, their sword master had introduced them to feints, parries, presses and binds. He’d shown them how to glide down an opponent’s blade. How to void an attack. Perform circular thrusts. And strike with accuracy at the hands, face, throat, eyes and even the teeth. Their previous experience with the samurai sword had meant they both picked up the rapier techniques swiftly, and they progressed faster than the average student. But it was their unique training in the Two Heavens that had enabled them to master the dual combination of rapier and dagger so quickly.

  Akiko stamped her front foot loudly on the flagstones. Jack tensed for an attack. But none came.

  ‘Nice attempt at an appel by Akiko to startle and distract Jack,’ whispered Signor Horatio approvingly.

  But Jack was used to kiai shouts in his taijutsu training and didn’t overreact. Instead he made a feint to Akiko’s hip. She parried his sword and immediately responded with a riposte. Jack countered with a beat parry, knocking Akiko’s blade aside and leaving her open to a thrust to the heart. He lunged forward. Akiko leapt back, recovering with a deflection, followed by a glide along his blade. His rapier forced off line, Jack missed his target as she retaliated with a jab to his face. The leather tip almost caught his eye, but Jack ducked at the last second, whipping his sword under hers and fending off the assault.

  ‘What a conversation of blades!’ exclaimed Signor Horatio, his eyes wide as he followed the action. ‘Did you see that prise de fer? How she took Jack’s blade with a bind and forced it on to a different line?’

  Rose nodded as if she knew what the sword master was talking about.

  Panting from his exertions, Jack retreated across the courtyard. After numerous bouts, he and Akiko were now familiar with each other’s personal fencing style. While she had beaten him in every duel so far, he was learning her tells and becoming wise to her tricks. He was no longer fooled by her every feint, or beaten by every riposte she made. Sometimes he could gauge just by the angle of her lead foot the attack she intended, at others by the way she held her head. Occasionally, though, he had no clue at all –

  And there it was! The twitch near the hilt. He knew she was about to lunge, but this time he’d get in first. Jack thrust with his rapier a moment before she did. Their blades passed each other, flying like silver arrows for their targets. Yet Jack felt the leather tip of Akiko’s rapier press against his throat first … his own sword still an inch short of Akiko’s slender neck.

  ‘Touché! Akiko wins … again,’ Signor Horatio declared, as Rose applauded the outcome.

  His rapier still held out straight, Jack studied his sword arm against Akiko’s and frowned. ‘How do you always manage to hit me first when your arm is shorter than mine?’ He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. ‘Are you using a longer sword?’

  Akiko shook her head. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then how do you do it?’ asked Jack, exasperated.

  ‘Pommelling,’ she replied.

  Jack looked to Signor Horatio; he’d clearly missed something during their lessons. ‘What’s pommelling?’

  The sword master leant over the balcony and grinned. ‘While you’ve been keeping a lookout for your sister, I’ve had the honour of tutoring Akiko in some more advanced techniques.’ He pointed to her sword hand. ‘By gripping the hilt at the pommel, one can extend the reach of a rapier by a good few inches. That can make all the difference in a duel. But it is a trade-off. One loses some control over the blade work, so you need a strong grip and a skilled hand to pommel effectively.’

  ‘So Akiko cheated?’ questioned Jack with good humour.

  ‘No, signor, she won fair and square,’ Signor Horatio replied, ‘and, as you well know, that’s all that counts in a real duel –’

  Suddenly the doors into the courtyard burst open and Yori came running in, ushering a young lad ahead of him. ‘Jack! Jack!’ he cried. ‘This boy says he’s seen your sister!’

  Jack rushed over, his heart in his mouth. ‘You have? Where?’

  The lad, dressed in a leather apron and smock, his hair a tangle of wiry black curls, struggled to get his breath back. (Yori had clearly dragged the witness at high speed across town.) ‘Aye …’ he panted, ‘I seen her … or a girl that looks like that one in that there locket o’ yours.’

  ‘But where did you see her?’ pressed Jack.

  ‘In the garden,’ replied the boy, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘I was ’elping me father deliver a cartload of wine and beer they’d ordered. I think they must be ’aving a party or summut –’

  ‘But what garden? WHERE?’ demanded Jack in exasperation.

  ‘Lupus Hall.’

  The coach rattled along the potholed highway, its iron-rimmed wheels making the bones of its occupants shudder. Jack sat rocking between Akiko and Yori; Signor Horatio and Rose perched on the seat opposite. They passed rolling fields, with the earth stubbled and brown after the harvest, and Jack stared impatiently at them out of the window. The coach they’d hired couldn’t go fast enough for him. He gripped the hilt of his katana in one hand; his other nervously thumbed the pommel of the rapier Signor Horatio had lent him. Jack hoped that he wouldn’t have to use them, that he could recover his sister without a fight, but he knew from experience that Sir Toby was rash and quick to take up arms. So he was ready to duel for his sister’s life if it came to it.

  ‘We’re here!’ the driver called out gruffly.

  The coach passed beneath a large stone gateway and into the grounds of a country estate. The rutted road turned to gravel and, as they approached the main house, lush lawns took over from the pastured fields. Marble statues of Roman emperors formed an imperial procession up to a stone bridge, beyond which stood the imposing manor house of red brick, tiled roofs and tall corkscrew chimneys. Four storeys high in places and protected by a wide square moat, the house was more akin to a castle than a country residence.

  Crossing the bridge, the coach clattered through a gatehouse into a large cobbled courtyard, where the driver drew the horses to a halt. Jack and his friends clambered out, stiff from the ride and cautious at their unannounced arrival. Signor Horatio paid the driver as Jack’s eyes swept round the yard, deserted apart from another coach which looked to be the one that had borne his sister
away. He gazed up at all the glazed windows encircling the inner yard, astounded by the huge quantity of glass in one building. Suddenly his breath caught in his throat. High up on the top floor, through the smallest window, a pale girl’s face peered down at him –

  ‘Fletcher? Is that you?’ boomed a voice.

  Jack spun round to see a portly figure with a pointed white beard emerge from the main house.

  ‘Sir Henry Wilkes!’ gasped Jack. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I might ask you the same, Jack! This is my family home,’ Sir Henry replied. Jack snatched another glance at the upper window but the face had gone. ‘Too much talk of plague doctors in London,’ Sir Henry went on. ‘So I thought I’d escape to the country – but it seems the doctors are everywhere!’

  ‘Everywhere?’ gulped Yori, a visible tremble making the bells of his shakujō ring.

  ‘Yes, I fear so. Aylesbury, Buckingham, Banbury … they’ve all been visited. The last sighting of them was in the village of Kineton.’ Sir Henry shook his head in dismay. ‘I pray that the plague doesn’t spread any further north. Kineton is little more than ten miles from here!’

  Jack exchanged a troubled look with Akiko and Yori. The four ninjas must have picked up their trail. Are they that close to Stratford? thought Jack. The need to find Jess had just become even more pressing.

  Sir Henry suddenly noticed their sword master and squinted. ‘Why, Signor Horatio Palavicino!’ he exclaimed. ‘I thought you’d returned to your homeland, sir.’

  Doffing his feathered hat, Signor Horatio bowed. ‘Che piacere vederti, Sir Henry. No, I’ve been in Stratford establishing a new fencing school. In fact, you’re talking to some of my best students.’

  Sir Henry raised an eyebrow at Jack, then laughed. ‘You really are a jack of all trades! Well, come in – let me offer you some refreshment. This is fortunate timing indeed! I’m holding a masque tonight – you know, a masked ball – and you’ll be among some most distinguished company.’