‘Well, I evaded you in the bushes!’ she said, a haughty look in her eyes. ‘You passed right by me behind the pine tree. I could’ve taken your inro then!’
Ronin stood up, waving Jack aside. ‘We’d better check what you do have.’
Grabbing the girl by the ankles, Ronin held her upside down and roughly shook her.
‘Let go!’ she cried, struggling in vain.
Three ornate brass hairpins dropped to the ground, followed by an ivory fan, a tortoiseshell comb, a bag of coins and a small blunt knife.
‘Not bad takings,’ muttered Ronin, dropping the girl and picking up the bag. He emptied its contents into his hand. ‘What’s this? Your lucky charm?’
A little paper crane sat among the coins in Ronin’s palm.
‘Don’t tell me. Thieves now practise the art of origami!’
Jack stared at the bird. ‘Let me see that.’
Ronin handed him the crane and Jack lifted its wing. Beneath it, inscribed in tiny kanji characters, was the word: Senbazuru.
Jack knew this meant ‘One Thousand Cranes’ according to the legend that said any person who folds a thousand such origami birds is granted a wish. His friend Yori had made this paper crane and had wished for Jack’s safe journey home.
‘Did you steal this from me?’ said Jack to the girl, who’d sat up and was moodily brushing off leaves.
She glanced up, a flash of defiance in her eyes. ‘No.’
‘Then where did you get it?’ Jack demanded, grabbing her arm for her full attention.
‘Some samurai,’ she replied, shrugging him off. ‘But he doesn’t care; he’s dead now.’
‘What else did you steal?’
The girl became tight-lipped.
‘Answer him!’ snarled Ronin.
‘Nothing …’ she murmured, shrinking from the samurai.
Ronin advanced on her, knife in hand.
‘Some money … and a black pearl from his friends,’ she added quickly.
‘A black pearl!’ breathed Ronin, stopping in his tracks.
‘Where is it?’ asked Jack, his eyes darting from the coins in Ronin’s hand to the spoils on the ground.
She offered him a smug smile. ‘I sold it.’
12
THE THIEF
‘That hurts!’ whined the girl thief as Ronin bound her to the fallen log.
‘Stop complaining!’ said Ronin, tying up her hands with the sageo cord from his saya. ‘Or I’ll be forced to gag you.’
The girl stuck her tongue out at him, but kept quiet. Having secured her, Ronin withdrew his knife and rested its razor-sharp edge upon her cheek.
‘Now you will tell us who’s got the pearl, or …’ He left the rest unsaid.
She glared back at Ronin, her eyes daring him to do it.
‘Ronin!’ Jack interrupted, worried the samurai might carry out his threat. ‘Let me try first.’
‘Be my guest,’ he replied, offering the knife.
Jack politely refused, considering a more friendly approach might loosen the girl’s tongue. He knelt down beside the thief.
‘What’s your name?’ asked Jack, smiling.
‘Hana.’
‘I’m Jack.’ He inclined his head respectfully, but was stopped mid-bow by her reply.
‘I know. The dōshin were talking about you. Some big reward for your head.’
At this Jack felt Ronin’s eyes suddenly upon him.
‘Don’t know why anyone would pay a whole koban for your head?’ Hana smirked, eyeing up Jack. ‘That amount of gold could keep me in rice for three years!’
Jack glanced at Ronin. Had this knowledge changed everything? Surely such a reward was tempting for even the most honourable samurai – and Jack was yet to be convinced of Ronin’s virtue. The man could literally drown himself in saké with all that money. But the samurai’s expression remained inscrutable.
‘Tell me, who did you sell the pearl to?’ demanded Ronin.
‘What’s it to you?’
‘That pearl belongs to Jack.’
‘Prove it!’
‘I was given the pearl by my best friend, Akiko,’ Jack explained. He remembered the moment with perfect clarity. Last year in Toba on a glorious summer’s day. How Akiko had swum deep like a mermaid, surfacing with an oval-shaped shell in one hand. He’d prised it open to reveal a black pearl, the colour of Akiko’s eyes. He’d treasured her gift ever since. ‘She dived into a bay near Toba and found it.’
‘Such a sweet story,’ said Hana, pretending to blink away tears. ‘I almost believe you.’
‘Please tell me who’s got it.’
Hana pursed her lips as if weighing up the truth in his story. ‘If you ask nicely, I might …’
Jack took a deep breath. It was like getting blood out of a stone. Bowing before Hana, he said, ‘I’d be indebted to you if you’d tell me who has the pearl. We’ll let you go if you do.’
‘A merchant,’ she replied, smiling coyly at him, pleased with her victory.
‘Which merchant?’ Jack persisted.
‘The one who sells fancy hairpins and kimono in Kizu.’
‘Do you know his name?’
Hana shook her head.
‘If you sold it to this merchant,’ said Ronin, ‘where’s the money gone?’
‘You’ve got it all!’ she said, exasperated. ‘Now I’ve done what you asked. Let me go.’
Ronin snorted in disbelief. ‘That was a black pearl you sold. Very rare. It’s worth at least a hundred times what you have here.’
Hana’s eyes widened with genuine shock. ‘B-b-but the merchant said black pearls were worthless.’
Ronin laughed coldly. ‘You’ve been robbed!’
‘Wish I’d stolen more of his precious hairpins now,’ muttered Hana, seething at being swindled.
Jack contemplated what to do next. His predicament was becoming more complex by the day. He’d been robbed by at least three men, possibly samurai, but one of them was now dead and the other two had disappeared. His swords had been won in a duel and were on their way to Kyoto, while the pearl had been sold to a merchant in the very town they’d just been forced to leave. Where his other posessions were was anyone’s guess. He still had the clue of the omamori, but no memory of how he’d got it or what had happened to him.
‘You said you stole the pearl from the dead man’s friends. Would you recognize them?’ asked Jack.
‘Probably.’
Jack turned to Ronin, who beckoned him away from the bound Hana.
‘What do you want to do?’ asked Ronin quietly.
‘If she’s telling the truth, there’s a good chance we could get back my pearl and identify my attackers.’
‘Well, we can’t take the girl to Kyoto. She’d be too much trouble,’ he replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully. ‘And it is a valuable pearl. Perhaps worth half a koban.’
‘That pearl means more to me than money,’ said Jack. ‘It was a gift from Akiko.’
‘All the more reason to return to Kizu.’
‘But what about my swords?’ asked Jack, despite being secretly relieved at the prospect of no longer going to Kyoto.
‘A samurai is nothing without someone to fight for,’ replied Ronin, a roguish grin on his face. ‘Once we’ve got back your precious pearl, we can resume our journey to Kyoto. Now we’d best get some sleep.’
Ronin gathered the stolen items together, slipping the knife into his obi and the rest inside his kimono sleeve, before settling down against the log. Jack found a place near a tree, so he could keep one eye on Hana and the other on Ronin, just in case the idea of the reward became too enticing for the samurai. He tried to make himself comfortable on the forest floor.
‘Hey! You promised to let me go!’ protested Hana, struggling against her bonds.
‘We will,’ replied Ronin. ‘After you’ve got Jack’s pearl back.’
13
THE MERCHANT
‘Don’t make me do this,’ pleaded Hana.
The three of them stood beside the merchant’s premises in Kizu, hidden from passers-by down a side alley.
‘Perhaps we should turn you over to the dōshin instead?’ suggested Ronin.
Hana scowled at him. ‘The merchant won’t just give me the pearl. Besides, he must suspect I stole his hairpins.’
‘Convince him otherwise,’ said Ronin, passing her the money she’d obtained in exchange for the pearl.
‘Good luck!’ Jack whispered, realizing they were all taking a risk by returning to Kizu. A dōshin patrol could appear at any moment.
‘I’ll need more than luck,’ replied Hana coolly.
As she turned to go, Ronin seized her by the arm. ‘Don’t even think of running. We’ll be watching you. And if you don’t come back with the pearl …’ Ronin drew a grim line across his neck with his forefinger.
‘What an encouraging thought!’ replied Hana, shooting him a sarcastic smile as she stepped out into the street.
Ronin waited by the entrance to the alley, ready to cut off any escape attempt, while Jack peeked through a tiny gap in the wooden wall of the shop to follow Hana’s progress.
The merchant was clearly proud of his store. The floor was spotless, the wooden surfaces polished to a bright gleam. Arranged in neat piles were swathes of cloth and exquisite kimono, offering an irresistible rainbow of colour to any browsing shopper. The merchant sat upon the raised floor, inspecting his stock of glittering hair ornaments – brass pins and silver clasps, painted combs of tortoiseshell and lacquered wood, silk flowers and shimmering ornate chains, all displayed upon a large black square of cloth.
Jack saw Hana enter, slip off her sandals and approach the merchant. He was a balding man with narrow eyes, thin lips and a sharp ridge of a nose. Everything about him suggested he was a shrewd merchant and a hard bargainer. Suddenly aware of his new customer, the merchant’s face softened and he offered his most welcoming smile. But it instantly vanished upon seeing Hana.
‘You!’
‘Pleased to meet you again,’ she replied, bowing and smiling sweetly.
‘Where are my hairpins?’ he demanded, pointing angrily to empty spaces in his display.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Perhaps you lost them?’
The merchant snorted with contempt. ‘You stole them. I’m missing three and a comb since yesterday.’
‘Why on earth would I steal hairpins? I don’t have the hair for it,’ remarked Hana, tugging at her black matted bob. ‘Besides, if I was a thief, would I really return to your store?’
The merchant glared at Hana. She continued to smile innocently back, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. He didn’t appear wholly convinced by her act, but a seed of doubt had been sown. ‘So what do you want?’
Hana cleared her throat. ‘The black pearl I sold you belongs to –’ she glanced uncomfortably to where she knew Jack was watching – ‘my master. It was given to him as a love-token and he would like it back, please.’ She held out the coins to the merchant and waited expectantly.
Not even glancing at the money, the merchant stared blankly at her. ‘What pearl?’
‘The one I sold you yesterday.’
‘I don’t recall any such transaction.’
Dismissing her with a wave of his hand, he busied himself with rearranging his stock of hair ornaments.
Jack turned to Ronin. ‘Perhaps Hana’s lied to us?’
But Ronin was no longer paying attention. His eyes were drawn to a young lady gliding down the main thoroughfare. Even Jack’s concentration was broken by the vision. The beautiful woman was dressed in a striking red silk kimono, embroidered with white chrysanthemum blossom. Her long black hair was tied up and adorned with a glimmering golden butterfly. This was embellished with silk flowers that cascaded down either side of her angelic face. As she walked, a soft tinkling could be heard accompanying her every step – the tiny silver chains dangling in her hair chiming her approach.
The attractive lady entered the shop, spotted Hana and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the girl’s dishevelled appearance. Immediately the merchant was by the woman’s side, bowing and scraping as he led her to a seat.
‘Who’s she?’ questioned the lady.
‘A nobody,’ replied the merchant, shooing Hana out of the door.
Hana bristled at this and stood her ground. The lady, no longer paying Hana any attention, began to preen before a small looking glass. She adjusted a large gold pin in her hair so that it sat beside the butterfly for the greatest effect.
‘I can’t express my joy enough at your new gift,’ said the lady to the merchant. ‘My friends were so envious. They’d never seen a black pearl before.’
Hana gasped in outrage when she spotted the gem now mounted on the end of the lady’s hairpin. ‘Isn’t that the pearl I sold you?’ Hana demanded of the merchant.
Jack squinted through the gap. It might just be a coincidence, but he thought it highly unlikely that there were two identical black pearls in this town.
‘Oh, that pearl,’ acknowledged the merchant begrudgingly. ‘It’s not for sale.’
‘But my master wants it back,’ insisted Hana.
‘The pearl now belongs to my wife.’
‘His wife!’ Ronin muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘She’s half his age. He must be rich …’
‘What’s the problem?’ demanded the merchant’s young wife.
‘Nothing, dear,’ replied the merchant, trying to steer Hana out of the store.
‘But I must return it to its rightful owner!’ cried Hana, looking nervously in the direction Ronin was concealed.
‘I’m its rightful owner,’ snapped the young wife. ‘There’s only one of these in the whole province and it’s mine.’
‘Please … my life depends upon it.’
The lady laughed shrilly at Hana’s plea. ‘Your life’s not worth the dirt on my sandals – let alone my pearl. Now get out before my husband calls the dōshin.’
The merchant went to throw Hana into the street.
‘I beg you! It belongs to a samurai,’ said Hana, struggling in his grip.
The merchant pulled her close until they were face to face. His narrow eyes had widened in concern at the revelation. ‘Which samurai?’ he hissed, hoping his wife hadn’t heard the exchange.
‘The … gaijin samurai.’
The merchant laughed. ‘Nice try. Even if it were true, that gaijin traitor would be long gone by now … or else dead.’
With that, he kicked Hana out of the store.
‘And don’t come back!’ said the merchant, wiping his hands of her. He turned to his wife, who was now glowering at him.
‘I thought you said you handpicked this pearl yourself, Isamu!’ she scolded.
‘I did! I did!’ he insisted, fussing around her. ‘The girl’s lying. She’s a thief … a nobody! Now, my darling butterfly, have you seen this beautiful gilded comb? It only arrived today …’
While the merchant tried to placate his wife with gifts, Hana dusted herself off and rejoined Jack and Ronin in the alley.
‘I tried my best,’ she said defiantly to Ronin. ‘Now either cut my throat or let me go!’
‘Well, your best wasn’t good enough,’ Ronin replied, his fingers grasping the hilt of his sword.
Fearing for Hana’s life, Jack stepped forward to protect her, but Ronin had already grabbed her wrist and forced her against the alley wall.
‘You’re a highly skilful thief,’ reminded Ronin, prising the coins from Hana’s trembling hand and grinning at the panic in her eyes. ‘You’ll just have to steal the pearl back. Won’t you?’
14
BREAKING AND ENTERING
The streets of Kizu were virtually deserted, an autumnal chill to the night air. The merchant’s house, a two-storey building with an ornate balcony to its rear, was situated within a walled garden on the outskirts of town.
‘Are you sure we should be doing this?’ whispered Jack, pee
ring through the impressive wooden gates.
‘It’s not stealing if it’s stolen from you in the first place,’ Ronin replied.
Jack couldn’t argue with that, but it didn’t allay his fears.
‘Besides,’ Ronin added, ‘she’s the only one breaking the law.’
Hana stood sullenly next to Ronin. They had spent the afternoon discussing the best way to retrieve the pearl. A daylight robbery was considered too dangerous. There’d be witnesses, the possibility of a violent and unwanted confrontation, and a good chance of being caught by dōshin. A night-time burglary, on the other hand, should give them enough time to make their escape before the pearl’s disappearance was discovered.
Jack beckoned Ronin to one side. ‘Now Hana knows the pearl’s true value, what’s to stop her running off with it?’
‘Good point. Go with her.’
‘Me?’
‘It’s your pearl,’ remarked Ronin, between swigs of saké.
Jack wondered whether it was worth taking such a risk, but he dearly wanted Akiko’s gift back. The pearl symbolized their undying bond – forever bound to one another. And its imminent recovery gave him hope that he would eventually find all his possessions – most importantly, the rutter.
‘I’ll need the money for the pearl then,’ said Jack.
‘We need it for food and …’ Ronin shook the half-empty saké jug.
‘I know, but as samurai we must follow the code of bushido and be honest. This money belongs to the merchant, even if he is a swindler.’
Acknowledging this fact with a grunt, Ronin handed him the coins and strode over to the treeline.
‘I’ll keep watch from here,’ he said, crouching in the shadows with his dwindling supply of saké. ‘Off you go!’
Hana looked at Jack. ‘He’s good at giving orders. Does your friend ever lift a finger?’
Jack wouldn’t have described Ronin exactly as a friend, but he remembered how the samurai had saved his life at the tea house. ‘Sometimes.’
Leading the way, Hana headed to the lowest section of garden wall.
‘You’d better not make a sound,’ she cautioned.
The Ring of Water Page 6