His experiences were leading him to question this belief. The ninja were shielding him from the samurai and, in the main, had treated him with kindness and respect. He even considered a few, like Soke, Hanzo and Tenzen, were becoming his friends and mentors. But the ninja had been his foe for so long that, despite everything, it was hard to let go of his old convictions. Too much water had passed under the bridge to suddenly start trusting them now. He still was no closer to understanding their true intentions or their reason for helping him. So, like Momochi, he remained suspicious and on his guard.
His life as a ninja was indeed challenging … challenging everything he stood for and had come to believe.
Shonin nodded sagely, as if reading the conflict in Jack’s mind.
‘How would you assess his progress, Soke?’
‘Jack’s taken to ninjutsu like a duck to water – you should see his shinobi aruki in the paddy fields,’ he replied, giving Jack a good-natured smile. ‘Though he’s a touch hit-and-miss with his shuriken-jutsu.’
Jack glanced guiltily in Miyuki’s direction and caught her scowling at him. She still hadn’t forgiven him for breaking her pot and soaking her.
‘But he’s learning fast, Father,’ said Tenzen.
‘Good. I’m sure he will under your guidance,’ replied Shonin, beaming proudly at his son. ‘And, Miyuki, I understand you’ve been teaching Jack the Sixteen Secret Fists. Does he know them all?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, tight-lipped.
I should do, thought Jack. She’s demonstrated them on me enough.
‘Now, Jack, you’ve no doubt wondered why I agreed to Soke’s request to teach you – a samurai – the art of the ninja,’ said Shonin.
‘That has crossed my mind.’
‘Well, I’m counting on an exchange of skills. I hear you’ve introduced Hanzo to the basics of samurai swordsmanship. But I’m intrigued to know more about the Two Heavens. I’ve heard it’s invincible. What can you tell me?’
Jack hesitated. Masamoto only divulged his secret of the Two Heavens to those few Niten Ichi Ryū students he deemed worthy enough in mind, body and spirit. Even if he could have requested Masamoto’s permission to reveal such knowledge, he already knew the answer: Never reveal your secrets to the enemy. Yet the ninja had openly shared many of their own secret techniques with him. It was surely unreasonable to refuse – and disrespectful.
Caught in a dilemma, Jack wished he had Sensei Yamada around to advise him. Then he recalled an allegory the old Zen master had given Yori a few days before Jack left Toba: The cat taught the tiger how to fight. The tiger became very strong. One day the tiger turned on the cat and the cat ran up a tree. That is the one secret the cat never taught the tiger.
Jack was in danger of teaching a tiger. But as long as he kept to basic principles and didn’t reveal the inner secrets, surely he could tell Shonin about the Two Heavens.
‘You do know it?’ said Shonin, his tone firm and expectant.
‘Of course,’ replied Jack, smiling. ‘The Two Heavens is a double sword method. The moves are designed to allow attack and defence simultaneously. Masamoto-sama believed that if your life is on the line, you need all your weapons to be of service.’
‘A wise man. Go on.’
‘While the two swords are the core to this technique, the essence of the Two Heavens is the spirit of winning – to obtain victory by any means and with any weapon.’
Shonin nodded appreciatively. ‘Much the same principle as in ninjutsu. I’d very much like to speak with this samurai – even if he is our enemy.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Masamoto-sama’s been banished by the Shogun,’ said Jack.
‘That is most unfortunate,’ replied Shonin. Then a smile curled the edge of his lips. ‘Perhaps you can give me a demonstration of the Two Heavens?’
Jack had only envisaged giving a verbal explanation of the principles – not to demonstrate it. Though uneasy at the idea, Jack felt he had little choice but to agree. After all, what real harm could it do? The technique took years, if not a lifetime, to master. A single demonstration couldn’t teach the tiger how to climb.
‘I’d be honoured,’ said Jack, inclining his head.
‘Excellent. Soke will arrange a time and place. Now, I have some welcome news. The samurai patrols have been called off. At least in these mountains.’
Jack could immediately feel the invisible noose round his neck loosening. Finally, he could continue on his way to Nagasaki.
‘I do realize you’ll want to continue your journey,’ Shonin acknowledged. ‘However, I’d advise extreme caution as all checkpoints and samurai outposts have been ordered to capture you, dead or alive. You may, therefore, wish to complete your training with Soke before leaving. Now, is there anything else we can do for you?’
‘Make me invisible!’ said Jack, thinking of the countless patrols and post stations he’d have to negotiate.
‘That can be arranged.’
Jack laughed. But his laughter petered out when he saw the Shonin’s deadly serious face.
‘All ninja learn the art of invisibility,’ stated Shonin, matter-of-factly.
‘But that’s impossible.’
‘I ask you, how many people are here now?’
Jack looked round the table. ‘Seven.’
Shonin shook his head. ‘You forgot Yoko.’ He pointed to the serving girl who’d been standing still and silent in the corner. ‘Being invisible isn’t about not being seen. It’s about not being noticed.’
‘That could be a little more difficult for me,’ said Jack, indicating his blue eyes and blond hair.
Shonin dismissed this obstacle with a wave of the hand. ‘Soke, please explain.’
The Grandmaster turned to Jack. ‘Invisibility is often a question of patience and agility. By combining concealment techniques with stealth-walking, a ninja essentially becomes invisible.’
‘But I can’t hide all the way to Nagasaki,’ said Jack.
‘True. So sometimes the best place to conceal yourself is right under the samurai’s nose,’ he said, pointing to Jack’s.
‘What do you mean?’
‘A ninja must be a master of disguise and impersonation. Shichi Hō De is the “seven ways of going” –’
‘Shonin, with all due respect,’ interrupted Momochi, ‘do you really think it’s right to be revealing such a deep secret?’
‘This one’s essential to his survival,’ insisted Soke.
‘Jack’s agreed to show us the Two Heavens. It’s a fair exchange,’ pronounced Shonin.
Momochi bowed his head in reluctant acceptance.
‘As I was saying, Shichi Hō De is the “seven ways of going”. A ninja may appear as a samurai, a farmer, a sarugaku dancer, a yamabushi priest, a Komusō, a merchant or a strolling player. Disguised as such, a ninja can travel freely and without detection. By impersonating an official, we can even gain access to forbidden areas.’
‘But I’m not Japanese and never can be.’
‘You’ve been practising your shakuhachi?’
Jack nodded.
‘Good. This will help make you invisible. The only people officially allowed to play that instrument are the Komusō. These Monks of Emptiness also have permission to travel freely through Japan.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ said Jack. He’d been impressed that the instrument was a weapon, but it was no magic flute.
‘Yoko!’ beckoned Shonin. ‘Bring in my Komusō garments.’
The girl slid open a shoji and returned a few moments later with some blue priest’s robes in a large round wicker basket.
‘Please show Jack how the Komusō dress.’
Slipping on the robes, together with a white obi and a golden shoulder shawl, Yoko then put the basket right over her head.
‘They wear the basket!’ exclaimed Jack, laughing out loud with amazement.
‘It’s a symbol of their detachment from the world. And it’s the perfect disguise for y
ou.’
24
DIVING DEEP
‘The Five Rings teach us how to use nature to our advantage,’ explained Soke, who sat surrounded by his students upon the bank of the village pond. ‘Earth can be used for concealment. Wind for covering our tracks. Fire for destruction …’
Jack screwed up his eyes, suddenly forced to look away by a blinding flash of light.
‘… or distraction.’
Concealed in Soke’s hand was a polished silver shuriken angled to reflect the bright summer sun.
‘But, of all the elements, a ninja should choose water to be his closest ally,’ the Grandmaster revealed. ‘Nothing is softer and more yielding than water, yet not even the strongest may resist it. Water can flow quietly or strike like thunder. It can be a weapon, a defence, offer camouflage or provide transport. For example, we’ve all heard of the Koga ninja using wooden water spiders on their feet to cross moats. I prefer a boat, of course – far drier – but this method has struck terror into the hearts of the samurai, who now believe ninja can walk on water!’
There was some suppressed laughter at this. Jack, however, didn’t join in. He’d been fooled by this very tactic during the assault on Osaka Castle. He was somewhat relieved to discover the truth behind this supernatural ability.
‘Now tell me, what ways can we turn water into a weapon?’
Tenzen raised his hand. ‘You could block and divert a river to cause a flood or wash away bridges.’
Soke nodded. ‘Excellent. Such a tactic avoids direct engagement with the enemy. However, it requires careful planning and the terrain may limit you. Other options?’
‘You can poison a castle’s water source,’ Miyuki suggested.
‘Ah … yes, very effective. But this may kill innocent people too.’
‘Then just the drinking cup of your enemy.’
‘Better,’ Soke acknowledged.
Jack made a mental note never to accept a drink from Miyuki.
‘So how about camouflage?’ asked the Grandmaster.
Hanzo thrust up his arm. ‘You can hide in barrels, urns, wells, ponds, rivers –’
‘Yes, yes, thank you, Hanzo, we get the idea,’ cut in the Grandmaster, gently waving the boy’s enthusiasm down. ‘Your breathing training will enable you to conceal yourself for short periods of time. But occasionally you’ll need to stay submerged for longer.’
Getting to his feet, Soke approached a clump of reeds and plucked a long thin stalk from the waters.
‘A hollow reed like this will allow you to breathe underwater. It also has the benefit of blending in with its environment, making it harder for the enemy to detect you. But what if there isn’t one to hand?’
‘You can use your saya,’ said Shiro, who sat beside Miyuki, picking distractedly at the grass.
Tenzen, noting Jack’s puzzled frown, picked up his ninjatō and showed Jack the end of the scabbard – where Jack’s samurai saya was rounded and solid, the ninja’s had a small breathing hole in it.
Soke continued. ‘Finally, water can be used as a defence. You can draw your enemy into a river and force them to fight in the water. A samurai’s armour will weigh them down, giving you the advantage. To improve your water-fighting skills, you’ll practise your taijutsu and weapon work later in the pond.’
Jack hoped he wasn’t partnered with Miyuki again. She was more than likely to drown him – ‘accidentally’, of course.
‘Water can also act as a shield. Tenzen, I require you for this demonstration.’
As Tenzen stripped down to his loincloth, Soke went over to the hanging tree where a bow and quiver of arrows rested against the trunk.
‘You may be under fire when making an escape, so it’s vital you learn how to avoid the arrows and gunshot of the enemy.’
To Jack’s utter amazement, the Grandmaster picked up the bow, nocked an arrow and took aim at his student.
Diving into the pond, Tenzen swam hard beneath the surface. Soke fired at him, the arrow lancing through the water. It appeared to strike Tenzen, but he kept going. As Soke launched another two arrows, Tenzen swam on, emerging unharmed on the opposite bank.
‘Your turn, Jack,’ shouted Tenzen.
‘Me?’ replied Jack, alarmed at the idea. Tenzen may have made it unscathed, but he knew what he was doing.
‘Go on,’ urged Hanzo. ‘Tengu can’t die!’
Jack gave Hanzo a doubting look.
‘The samurai’s too scared,’ Miyuki taunted.
Jack realized that if he wasn’t to lose face, he had no real choice. Stripping off, he approached the bank.
‘Bet the water’s cold as ever,’ mumbled Shiro as Jack prepared to dive in.
The Grandmaster already had an arrow nocked.
‘Remember to swim deep,’ advised Soke, pulling back on the drawstring and taking aim.
The old man really meant to shoot him.
Jack, taking three deep controlled breaths, dived into the icy waters of the pond. The chill shocked him initially, but he soon began to pump his legs when he caught a glimpse of an arrow shooting past his head. He had to go deeper.
As he swam, he felt an arrow strike his back. Luckily, he was deep enough for the initial momentum of the weapon to have been lost. Even though it didn’t pierce his skin, it was a painful reminder of how dangerous the training exercise was.
Not willing to risk surfacing, he kept swimming. But the exertion was putting considerable strain on his lungs. He desperately needed to take a breath. Suppressing the instinct as he’d been taught, he forced himself onwards.
Another arrow glanced off his leg, much softer this time. The dark shadow of the bank drew nearer and Jack exploded to the surface, gulping in a lungful of air. Clambering out, he collapsed on the ground, breathless and horrified by the experience.
‘Well done,’ said Tenzen, patting him on the back.
‘Soke is crazy!’ gasped Jack.
Tenzen nodded. ‘Usually he blunts the arrow tips.’
The two of them waited together on the far bank while the other students made the perilous crossing. As Jack lay there drying in the sun, he noticed there were no farmers in the fields.
‘When do you do any farming?’ he asked.
Tenzen smiled.
‘Summer’s the best season to be a rice farmer,’ he explained. ‘Having planted the seedlings in spring, nature takes over. Aside from a bit of weeding and irrigation, we can sit and watch the rice grow. That is when we’re not training as ninja. But come end of summer, we’ll be working dawn to dusk, harvesting the crop.’
‘And that’s no fun!’ moaned Shiro, flopping down next to them, breathless from his swim. ‘Won’t be long now until we’re threshing the rice till our arms drop off.’
Jack was suddenly aware how quickly time had slipped by. If he didn’t move on soon, summer would be over and he’d be travelling through the autumn. The days would be shorter, the nights colder and the journey longer. It was time to go.
Hanzo surfaced and swam over in his direction, a broad grin on his face.
‘Told you tengu can’t die!’
Jack realized it would be sad to say goodbye to Hanzo. Despite the boy’s irritating refusal to call him by his name, Hanzo’s enthusiasm was infectious. His easygoing nature and openness were refreshing and in contrast to the typically reserved temperament of most Japanese. Over the course of their sword lessons together, the boy had proved a quick learner and dedicated student. As a result, Jack had grown fond of the lad.
Hanzo pulled himself out and sat upon the edge of the pond, his feet dangling in the water, as he watched Miyuki prepare to cross.
‘Hanzo …’ began Jack, then he tailed off, his mouth dropping open in astonishment.
Jack couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. But this was the first time they’d been swimming together.
‘What is it?’ asked Hanzo.
‘Erm … nothing.’
But it wasn’t nothing.
There, on Hanz
o’s lower back, was a small cherry-red birthmark in the shape of a sakura blossom petal.
Just like the one Akiko had described on Kiyoshi, her long-lost brother.
25
A SILENT MIND
That night Jack lay on his futon, unable to sleep, his mind whirling with the prospect that Hanzo might be Akiko’s little brother.
Akiko had once told him that the boy had been snatched as a child by Dragon Eye during the assassination of Yamato’s older brother, Tenno, five years earlier. Though many thought Kiyoshi had been killed, Akiko always believed her brother was still alive. Why else would the ninja have taken him?
In spite of a prolonged search by Masamoto and his samurai, the boy was never found. But Akiko didn’t give up hope. She’d heard a rumour about a boy of samurai status entering a ninja clan in the Iga mountains, and had convinced herself that it must be Kiyoshi.
This was one of the reasons Akiko had agreed to Masamoto’s plan for her to train as a ninja. She’d intended to infiltrate the shinobi and discover the whereabouts of her lost brother. But Dragon Eye was the only one with certain knowledge of Kiyoshi’s fate. When the ninja had died, the secret died with him. And so had Akiko’s hopes.
Until now.
Jack had once asked Akiko how she’d recognize her brother after the passing of so many years. She’d informed him that Kiyoshi had a birthmark like a petal of sakura blossom on his lower back. Just like Hanzo.
It could be a complete coincidence. But Hanzo was the right age. There were aspects of his nature that were very familiar to Jack. His passion for life, his independence and his gentle spirit were all reminiscent of Akiko. And, like his sister, the boy was a natural martial artist.
How many other young ninja would have such a distinctive birthmark?
‘Are you asleep?’ came a whisper from the other side of the room.
Jack didn’t answer, caught up in the possibilities surrounding Hanzo. Or could it be Kiyoshi?
‘I know you’re awake. I can tell by your breathing.’
A shaft of pale moonlight filtered through the bars of the room’s little window. Jack turned to face him. In the half-light, he thought he could picture Akiko in Hanzo’s features. The high cheekbones. His easy smile. The eyes, black as the pearl she’d given him.
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