The Return of the Warrior

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The Return of the Warrior Page 27

by Chris Bradford


  His heart leaping into his mouth, Jack spun round and saw Sir Henry. He reclined in the armchair by the fire, the rutter in one hand, a loaded flintlock pistol in the other. Hidden by the shadows, he’d been so still and silent that Jack hadn’t noticed him at first.

  ‘That’s my father’s!’ said Jack firmly. ‘Give it back to me.’

  Sir Henry shook his head. ‘Tut tut, young man – what right have you to demand anything in my house? This book was in my library. In my house. So that makes it mine now.’

  Jack moved to seize the rutter, but Sir Henry held up the pistol and put his finger to the trigger. ‘Not so fast, young Fletcher.’

  ‘You won’t shoot me,’ challenged Jack, his bravado disguising his doubt. ‘You need me to sail your trading fleet to the Japans.’

  Pursing his lower lip thoughtfully, Sir Henry regarded the logbook. ‘But now that I have this “bible to the seas”, I no longer have any need of you.’ He set the precious rutter aside and glared at Jack, his face grave and bone-white in the pale moonlight. ‘You were supposed to be my golden goose, the key to restoring my lost fortune. But you had to ruin everything by snooping round Lupus Hall and finding your good-for-nothing sister! Then you brought those plague doctors to my door, or whatever those devils were. As soon as I realized the house was under attack, I summoned the local militia – although a fat lot of good those bumbling idiots were! Lupus Hall is burnt to the ground, and all because of you! Now, Jack Fletcher, you’ll pay for that debt with your life.’

  Jack tensed, preparing to spring out of the way of the oncoming bullet. But Sir Henry’s finger didn’t pull the trigger.

  ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’ said Jack, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘If you’re going to shoot me, then go ahead and do it!’

  ‘No, I’m not going to shoot you,’ Sir Henry replied with a sly grin. ‘That would spoil my prize Persian rug … and be far too quick for my liking.’

  He rose from his armchair, keeping the pistol’s barrel pointed at Jack’s chest.

  ‘Constables!’ he cried, summoning four armed men into the library. ‘Arrest this boy and his accomplices – who I wager are outside – for breaking into my house and stealing my property.’

  The sun rose red like a bloodshot eye above the River Thames, a cold autumnal mist hanging low over its waters. Only the clink of sailing lines and the squawk of seagulls disturbed the peace of the waking dawn. There was a chill in the air that cut to the bone, hinting at the impending winter. Ships, moored at the myriad wharfs and jetties, shifted and creaked with the incoming tide. Sailors and dockhands shook off the heavy cloak of sleep and set to work, as the bells of the city churches tolled in mournful unison. London was stirring and a new day beckoned.

  But for Jack and his friends it would be their last.

  They stood upon a wooden plank spanning the gap between two of the jetties at Somers Quay. Nooses had been tied round their necks, the ropes slung over a scaffold and tethered to a pair of workhorses. A small, curious crowd had gathered to watch the early-morning execution, their interest piqued at the sight of the two foreigners and their dishevelled English friend being hanged on the gallows that was normally set aside for pirates. As the docks gradually came to life, more and more people joined the throng. In the middle of the front row stood Sir Henry, dressed in his finest suit and ruff, a gold-topped walking stick in one hand, a fancy rapier on his hip and a haughty sneer upon his fat lips.

  ‘Well …’ gulped Yori, wobbling on the unsteady plank, ‘at least I got to see the Tower of London.’

  The oppressive drum-towered castle loomed behind them and Jack glanced sideways at Yori, astonished his friend could muster any humour at such a time. Following their arrest, and on Sir Henry’s insistence, the three of them had been escorted across the city and thrown into the infamous Tower, a prison offering no hope of escape. For a day and a night, they’d been holed up in the pit: no light, no food, no water. Their trial had been brief and its outcome a foregone conclusion. The sentence: death by hanging.

  ‘Forever bound to one another,’ whispered Akiko with a tender look at Jack. Her eyes were pools of both sorrow and eternal love.

  Jack desperately wanted to reach out, to hold Akiko one last time, to feel her gentle touch upon him … but their hands had been cuffed behind their backs. ‘Forever bound to one another,’ he replied, the five words expressing everything he wanted to say and more – his lifelong promise to her and his deep regret at bringing her and Yori to England … his unending apology for their present fate; his hopes for their future and his sadness at their loss. But, above all else, his love for her.

  A court official pushed his way through the swelling crowd.

  ‘S-s-sorry, I’m late,’ he mumbled to Sir Henry, who shot the diminutive and balding man a fierce glare. The court official busied himself with a piece of parchment, shakily unrolling it before taking up his position at the edge of the quay.

  ‘Jack Fletcher, Akiko D–’ the bumbling official squinted at the parchment – ‘Dāte and Yori Sanada, you have been charged and tried for horse theft, burglary, larceny and arson. You have been formerly tried and sentenced for disturbing the peace, for wilful destruction of property, for brawling in a public place and for violent robbery; the punishment for which you then escaped and went on the run through His Majesty’s kingdom.’ The crowd fell silent at such a disgraceful list of offences. ‘Considering the severity of your crimes and their repeated nature,’ the official went on, ‘the Court finds you guilty of all charges and has decided that you should be hanged by your necks till your bodies are dead and three tides have covered them.’ Neatly rolling up the parchment, he then stepped back from the quay.

  Now Sir Henry came forward and took his place. He eyed Jack with the utmost contempt. ‘It is my duty, as servant of the King and the Court, to pronounce your execution …’

  Deaf to the man’s proclamations, Jack frantically pulled at the manacles round his wrists. If he could get a hand free, then he might just be able to … But it was futile. The iron cuffs were too tight, his efforts only shredding his skin. He’d have to chop his own hand off to remove them. He scanned the crowd for a friendly face. By now, Signor Horatio, Rose and Jess must have realized that something had gone terribly wrong with their attempt to recover the rutter. But they wouldn’t know where to find them. And what can they do even if they come? he thought. To attempt a rescue would be suicidal. Jack just prayed that the three of them had seen sense and were already aboard a ship bound for Italy.

  The atmosphere round the quay grew tense with excitement as Sir Henry raised his arm to give the hangman the command. Akiko and Yori held their heads high, facing their demise with the honour and dignity befitting samurai. Jack tried to muster up the same bold, defiant spirit, but the sense of injustice at their fate cut too deep. To rub salt into the wound, from his precarious position on the plank, Jack could spy the Hosiander among the countless vessels docked at the quay. Their last hope of escape was but a short dash from where they now stood awaiting death.

  Sir Henry glowered at Jack and stood poised to signal the hangman. ‘May the Lord have mercy upon your souls –’

  Suddenly there was a commotion in the crowd.

  ‘MAKE WAY! PARDON! MAKE WAY!’ shouted a footman, barging through the bemused onlookers.

  The crowd parted and a unit of guards followed hot on the footman’s heels, escorting a man and two young women. Now Jack’s despair deepened to unimaginable depths. To his horror, he saw the three being held in the guards’ custody were Signor Horatio, Rose … and Jess! This was the final twist of the knife. Jess and his two loyal friends were to face the same cruel punishment.

  Then an elderly silver-haired man wearing a formal chain of office and a slim rapier on his hip stepped forward from the unit of guards. ‘Cut them down!’ he ordered. It was none other than Lord Robert Percival.

  One of the guardsmen dashed over and sliced through the ropes with his sword. Jack, A
kiko and Yori teetered on the plank, Yori almost toppling headfirst into the water. Signor Horatio caught him and guided him safely to the quayside, before returning for Jack and Akiko.

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’ roared Sir Henry. ‘These criminals have been formally tried and sentenced to be hanged until three tides have passed!’

  Lord Percival held up a vellum scroll bearing a large red seal. ‘I have in my hand a Royal Pardon for all three prisoners from King James himself.’

  Sir Henry blustered. ‘Let me see that!’ He snatched the scroll out of Lord Percival’s hand and broke the seal. His indignant expression turned first to befuddlement, then to astonishment, and finally to outrage. ‘I don’t believe it! No one in their right mind would pardon these rogues!’

  A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Lord Percival stared hard at Sir Henry. ‘Watch what you say, sir. Are you calling His Majesty the King mad?’

  Sir Henry swallowed. ‘N-n-no …’ he stammered, ‘that’s not what I meant at all – just that this pardon might be a forgery.’

  Lord Percival’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his rapier. ‘Then if you aren’t questioning the King’s sanity, are you questioning my integrity, sir?’

  Inclining his head in deference, Sir Henry replied quickly, ‘Of course not, my lord.’

  ‘Good,’ said Lord Percival, taking back the scroll. ‘Now, guards, arrest this man.’

  ‘What?’ cried Sir Henry, as he was seized roughly by both arms. ‘You can’t arrest me! I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  Lord Percival peered down his arched nose at him. ‘No wrong, you say? The kidnapping and extortion aside, Sir Henry Wilkes, you’re hereby charged with failing to pay your debts. It has been decided that you should be held in Fleet Prison until such debts are repaid, in full.’

  Sir Henry’s face blanched. ‘But I owe thousands upon thousands of pounds!’ he exclaimed, as the guards started dragging him away.

  ‘Then you’ll be in prison, sir, for a very long time,’ replied Lord Percival with a wry smile.

  ‘King James wishes you good fortune on your voyage,’ said Lord Percival, handing Jack his precious rutter. They were standing on the quayside the following morning. It was a wholly different day from the one before. The dawn sun was warm, the sky blue and cloudless, and the air fresh and crisp, a steady westerly breeze blowing. London gleamed like a jewel in the autumnal light, the gothic tower of St Paul’s a beacon above the shining roofs of the city. A regal bevy of swans glided over the waters of the Thames and countless ferries weaved in and out of one another like damselflies. The dockside was hectic and noisy, yet the bustle had a reassuring rhythm to its chaos – and no victims hung from the pirate gallows overlooking Somers Quay.

  Gratefully welcoming the return of the logbook, Jack was then given an envelope with an official red wax seal.

  ‘As His emissary to the Japans,’ explained Lord Percival, ‘you are asked by King James to deliver this letter of goodwill to the Emperor and he trusts that a mutually beneficial trading agreement can be brokered.’

  ‘I’ll do my utmost to fulfil His Majesty’s request,’ said Jack, respectfully taking the letter and stowing it safely in his pack with the rutter. As part of the deal for securing their pardon, Jack was to act as the official royal envoy to the Japans. The promise of a lucrative trade agreement between those islands and England had helped Lord Percival convince the King of Jack and his friends’ merit. But much of the credit for their last-minute pardon belonged to Rose, whose idea it had been in the first place to approach Lord and Lady Percival for help. Signor Horatio, being a knighted gentleman, had been able to make a direct approach to the lord who in turn had then secured an audience with His Majesty.

  ‘Once again we must thank you and Lady Catherine for your kind graces and timely intervention,’ said Jack, inclining his head stiffly, his neck still sore from the noose’s burn.

  ‘We offer you our deepest gratitude too,’ said Akiko, bowing low with Yori.

  ‘Consider it a good deed returned,’ Lord Percival replied heartily. ‘If it wasn’t for you and your friends, I’d likely still be tied half-naked to a tree, and my darling Lady Catherine here would be without a head!’ At this, she curtseyed her gratitude. ‘Saving you from the gallows was the least I could do.’ An arch smile crossed his lips. ‘Just don’t fall foul of the law again. The King won’t pardon you twice!’

  Akiko laughed. ‘You can be assured, my lord, that we’ve no intention of getting into further trouble upon these shores.’

  Yori raised an eyebrow and murmured wistfully, ‘The only problem is – trouble seems to find us!’

  Patting his friend amiably on the back, Jack said, ‘It’s lucky, then, that we watch one another’s backs.’

  ‘JACK!’ called Captain Spilbergen from the quarterdeck of the Hosiander. ‘We’re casting off.’

  Lord Percival shook Jack’s hand, then bid farewell to the others. ‘Forgive me, I too must attend to the King’s business. I bid you safe passage.’

  As they watched him and Lady Catherine depart, Jess turned to Rose and Signor Horatio. ‘So, dear friends … this is goodbye, then?’

  Rose nodded and pulled Jess into her arms. Jess began to cry and tears welled up in Rose’s eyes too. Jack also shed a tear at the thought of leaving Rose, the girl who’d given him his first kiss, who’d guided them through the perils of London and all the way to Stratford … and who had ultimately saved his sister’s life.

  ‘The witch was right,’ sniffed Rose, drying her eyes.

  ‘About what?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Her prophecy,’ Rose explained. ‘One will live, Two will love, Three will cry, and Four will die.’

  First she nodded at Akiko. ‘You lived after being drowned on the ducking stool.’

  Then she turned her gaze affectionately upon Signor Horatio. ‘We two fell in love.’ As Signor Horatio kissed Rose on the cheek, Jack’s eyes met Akiko’s. Rose and Horatio weren’t the only two to find love.

  Wiping away Jess’s tears for her, Rose went on: ‘And at least three of us are crying.’

  ‘And four died,’ said Yori ominously, giving them all a grave look.

  ‘I’m just glad that that part of the prophecy turned out to be the ninja plague doctors rather than us!’ said Jack with a morbid laugh.

  After Jess had finished hugging Rose goodbye, Akiko stepped forward. ‘I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, Rose, but I was wrong to judge you too hastily. In our time together you’ve demonstrated loyalty, honour and courage – the virtues of a true samurai. As a token of my respect for you, please accept this small gift.’ And, bowing, Akiko humbly offered Rose her golden kanzashi.

  ‘Why … thank you,’ said Rose, for once seemingly lost for words. Admiring the sakura flower engraved at the end, she added, ‘It’s beautiful.’

  Akiko shared a conspiratorial smile with her. ‘It’s also deadly … just like you!’

  ‘Signor Horatio had best keep on my good side, then!’ Rose laughed and slid the sharpened hairpin into her mane of flame-red hair. ‘I’ve only this pomander for you,’ she said, and she presented Akiko with a strongly scented carved wooden ball on a red ribbon. ‘The perfume will keep away the bad smell of the sailors!’

  ‘It’s not stolen, is it?’ asked Akiko, sniffing the spiced rose aroma appreciatively.

  Rose laughed, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. ‘Of course not! I made it myself. On your example, I’ve finally seen the error of my ways.’

  ‘Then it’s all the more valuable,’ said Akiko, hanging the pomander round her neck.

  Next Yori bowed his respects and gave Signor Horatio and Rose a pair of matching origami paper cranes. ‘For peace,’ he explained.

  Finally it was Jack’s turn. ‘Signor Horatio, you’re a loyal friend, a fine gentleman and a true sword master. I know my guardian, Masamoto Takeshi, will be fascinated to learn the fencing skills you’ve taught me. The way of the rapier is another world to the way of the
katana.’

  ‘Certo, signor! That’s what makes it such a fine weapon.’ Then Signor Horatio unsheathed his slender steel rapier and handed it to Jack. ‘Take it. You now have the best of both worlds.’

  ‘I can’t accept this,’ said Jack, taken aback at such a generous gift.

  Signor Horatio clasped Jack’s shoulder. ‘I can’t think of a better student to wield such a blade … apart from Akiko, of course.’ He then produced another rapier with a finely crafted handguard, which he presented to Akiko, who bowed deeply in appreciation.

  As Signor Horatio stepped away, Rose came forward. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you, Jack …’ she said demurely, ‘except this –’ and she planted her lips on his cheek. In that moment, the memory of a young red-haired girl kissing him beneath Moorgate awoke in Jack’s mind. He smiled and gave his childhood friend a fond hug.

  ‘Are you coming or what?’ yelled a sailor from the Hosiander’s main deck, breaking up the tender moment.

  After a final flurry of goodbyes, Jack, Akiko, Yori and Jess grabbed their packs and hurried up the gangplank. As the Hosiander cast off, they bid a final farewell to Rose and Signor Horatio down on the quay. Then, with the ship easing out of port, they ran to the stern. Their two friends still stood arm in arm at the far end of the quay, all the time waving, until the ship rounded a bend in the river and they disappeared from view.

  Leaning on the stern gunwale, Jack gazed at the wake of the ship as it ploughed through the sea and at the thin line of land fast disappearing behind the darkening horizon. After three days’ good sailing, the Hosiander had left the Thames Estuary, passed through the Strait of Dover and along the English Channel, and was now heading for the open ocean.

  ‘I hope you’re not too sad to be leaving your home so soon after arriving,’ said Akiko, who leant beside him with Jess and Yori. Her long black hair rippled in the breeze.

  Jack sighed, his face forlorn. ‘I thought it was home, but after so many years away it didn’t feel like home any more. England’s become a foreign country to me.’ He looked at Jess with a tender smile. ‘But I found who I was looking for. That’s all that really matters.’ He wrapped an arm round his sister and drew her to him. She buried her head in his chest, and Jack experienced the warmth in his heart that only family could kindle.

 

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