The Way of the Sword

by Unknown

  ‘No. You decided your opponent. To know your fears is to know yourself.’ He put the teapot down and looked Jack in the eye. ‘The key to being a great samurai in peace and war is freedom from fear. If you defeat your nemesis, then you become the master of your fears.’

  With a wave of his hand, the monk indicated the way out to Jack. ‘Please, I have to prepare for the next guest.’

  Jack gave the monk a bewildered bow then headed for the crack in the wall.

  ‘Jack-kun,’ called the Mountain Monk just as he reached the hole.

  Jack stopped in his tracks, trying to recall when he had told the monk his name.

  ‘Understand that those who successfully complete the Spirit challenge are not free of fear, but are simply no longer afraid to fear.’

  * * *

  Jack stood in the centre of the grassy plateau alongside Akiko and Kazuki. The sun beat down with a glorious warmth and the three highest peaks of the Iga mountain range towered majestically over them in the bright blue sky.

  The students, sensei and temple monks formed three concentric circles around the three of them. On the command of the High Priest, the three circles clapped three times then cheered at the tops of their voices three times, their shouts echoing across the valley.

  Jack’s heart swelled with pride. He had done it. Against all the odds, he had conquered the Circle. He had survived.

  Turning to face Akiko, he saw that she was trying to hold back her own tears, a mixture of relief and delight sparkling in her eyes. When she had come down off the mountain after him, Jack had rejoiced as she recounted how she’d defeated her inner demon, a host of vampire bats, with the aid of her protecting spirit, a pure white falcon. Jack had thought how appropriate that a bird of swift beauty and sharp instinct was her guardian. Akiko had been equally delighted to hear that his spirit had taken the form of a lion.

  Then there had been a tense wait, while Kazuki scaled the peak and entered the Spirit cave himself. For a long while, he failed to emerge and Jack, going against the spirit of bushido, secretly hoped that Kazuki had failed in his final challenge. But no sooner had this thought occurred than his arch-rival had returned triumphant. Jack didn’t discover what Kazuki’s protective spirit was, though he assumed it was a snake or something equally venomous.

  ‘Young samurai, the Circle is complete,’ announced the High Priest, stepping up to join them in the centre of the Circle of Three. ‘Your mind, body and spirit will forever form a never-ending circle.’

  He indicated for the three of them to link hands to form a fourth and final inner circle. Jack and Kazuki reluctantly grasped one another’s hand and Akiko couldn’t help but laugh at their discomfort.

  ‘But while your body and mind have been strengthened by these challenges,’ continued the High Priest, ‘always remember that the most important thing for a samurai is not the sword you hold in your hand or the knowledge between your ears; it is what is in your heart. Your spirit is your true shield. If your spirit is strong, you can accomplish anything.’

  48

  THE CHALLENGE

  Akiko stared aghast at Yamato’s proposal.

  They were back at the Niten Ichi Ryū, gathered in Jack’s room within the Hall of Lions. The return journey that morning from the Iga mountains had been a relaxed one, made all the more enjoyable by their triumph in the Circle of Three and the splendid spring sunshine that had graced their ride home.

  Jack was still tired and all the muscles in his body ached, but following the best nightmare-free sleep he’d had in a long while, he felt rejuvenated. Indeed, in a few days he thought he would be raring to train again. However, the debate they were having at that moment chilled him to the bone.

  He had told Yamato and Akiko about his encounter with Dragon Eye and they were now discussing what to do with the rutter. With every mention of the ninja’s name, his heart burnt as he recalled the assassin’s sinister powers.

  ‘I’m serious,’ Yamato persisted. ‘Dokugan Ryu thinks Jack is dead. We can take him by surprise.’

  ‘No,’ countered Akiko. ‘You can never surprise a ninja. They’re trained in laying traps. Dragon Eye would instinctively sense that something’s wrong.’

  ‘Why would he?’ said Yamato. ‘Besides if we don’t get him now, he’ll just go after Jack again.’

  ‘We should move the rutter first,’ Jack suggested, warming to Yamato’s plan. ‘We have the Circle of Three celebration tonight at daimyo Takatomi’s castle. We can slip out during the proceedings and hide it elsewhere before Dragon Eye gets his hands on it.’

  ‘That’s if he hasn’t already got it,’ said Akiko, shaking her head in despair. ‘This isn’t a training game. This is real. The Circle hasn’t suddenly made you invincible, Jack. Though Dragon Eye seems to be. He keeps escaping every time and no one’s ever defeated him. What makes you think you can now?’

  ‘That’s my point: until we kill him, he’ll always be a threat,’ argued Yamato fervently.

  ‘Why are you so fixed on this foolish idea of a trap? It’s plain suicide,’ said Akiko. ‘It’s like you’ve got something to prove.’

  ‘I have!’ said Yamato, clenching his fists, his blood boiling as he got more worked up. ‘Jack’s not the only one who wants revenge. Dokugan Ryu killed my brother, Tenno. Remember? Upholding the Masamoto family honour requires that the ninja dies. This is my best chance to prove myself.’

  Yamato’s thunderous mood, the one Jack knew so well from when he was on the receiving end, appeared to be consuming his friend.

  ‘Calm down, Yamato,’ interjected Jack, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

  ‘Calm down?’ exploded Yamato, snatching his arm away. ‘Of all the samurai, I thought you’d understand. He murdered your father as he did my brother. Dragon Eye’s not all about you and your precious rutter, Jack. I feel pain too. Every day. It’s just that I don’t have anything that ninja still wants. He’s already taken the only brother I had from me!’

  A tense silence fell between the three of them.

  Jack felt ashamed. He hadn’t ever considered Yamato’s situation that way before. He’d always been concerned with his own predicament, working out ways he could safely get home without the need for Masamoto’s protection, worrying about what had become of his little sister, mourning his father’s death and wondering how he could defend himself against Dragon Eye. Yamato would be suffering as much as he was. He’d lost his own flesh and blood too.

  ‘I didn’t think…’ began Jack.

  ‘I’m sorry…’ said Akiko, bowing.

  Yamato held up his hand in peace, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself.

  ‘Forget it. I’m sorry I let my temper get the better of me.’ He bowed his apologies to both Jack and Akiko. ‘We shouldn’t be fighting with one another like this. We should be fighting Dragon Eye. He’s the cause of it all. Always has been.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s time,’ suggested Akiko, ‘that we told Masamoto about the rutter?’

  * * *

  Jack knelt before Masamoto, Sensei Hosokawa and Sensei Yamada in the Hall of the Phoenix, the silk-screen painting of the flaming bird rising up behind them like an avenging angel.

  ‘I was delighted with your performance in the Circle of Three, Jack-kun,’ said Masamoto, putting down his cup of sencha and gazing at Jack with admiration. ‘As my adopted son, I am as proud of you as your father would have been.’

  Jack had to blink back tears at the mention of his father and the unexpected affection displayed by his guardian. Throughout his time at the samurai school, Jack had missed the encouragement and support his father would have given him. Whether it was a sly wink of approval, or a piece of advice, or just his father enveloping him in arms as strong as the ocean. Those were the precious moments that had been absent in his life over the past two years.

  ‘You completed the Circle challenges with the true bushido virtues of loyalty, rectitude and courage,’ continued Masamato, ‘so I look forward to person
ally instructing you in the technique of the Two Heavens.’

  Jack’s heart leapt. Finally, he would get to use Masamoto’s swords. At last, he was to be taught this unbeatable skill.

  ‘But now to the heart of this meeting,’ said Masamoto, his tone turning serious. ‘Is there something you wish to tell me?’

  Jack was taken aback by the question. How could he know?

  Akiko, Yamato and himself had been discussing whether to raise the issue of the rutter with Masamoto, when Jack had received the summons to go to the Hall of the Phoenix to see Masamoto. Before Jack left for this unexpected appointment, the three of them had agreed that they should tell Masamoto about the existence of the rutter. Jack realized the consequences of this could be severe and had insisted that Akiko and Yamato remain behind. There was no reason for them to be punished too. He would deny his friends’ involvement, maintaining they had no knowledge of the logbook.

  Following such praise and assertions of fatherly pride from Masamoto, a wave of guilt now replaced the elation Jack had been feeling. He was ashamed to have to admit to his guardian that he’d lied to him.

  ‘Thank you, Masamoto-sama, for your kind words,’ began Jack, bowing low, ‘but I don’t deserve them.’

  Masamoto leant forward, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘I know why the ninja attacked us in the Iga mountains. It was Dragon Eye. He was after me. Or, to tell the truth, after my father’s rutter.’

  ‘What’s a rutter?’ asked Sensei Hosokawa.

  Jack told the three of them about the logbook, describing how pilots used it to navigate their ships, and explaining the rutter’s importance to trade and politics among the countries of Europe.

  ‘I’m sorry, Masamoto-sama, but I lied to you,’ Jack confessed. ‘The reason why Dragon Eye attacked Hiroko’s house in Toba was because of the rutter. I should have told you at the time, but I’d made a promise to my father to keep it secret. I didn’t know who to trust and then I was worried if you had the rutter, you’d become the target for Dragon Eye, rather than me.’

  Masamoto stared at Jack. His stony expression gave little away, but Jack noticed the scars on his face had begun to redden. Sensei Hosokawa’s expression was equally severe. Sensei Yamada was the only one who looked kindly upon Jack, his eyes crinkling in sympathy at Jack’s predicament.

  ‘We will have to deal with this matter tomorrow,’ declared Masamoto tersely. ‘Unfortunately there’s a more pressing issue to be discussed first.’

  Jack wondered what could be worse than breaking the fifth virtue of bushido by lying to his guardian.

  Masamoto nodded to Sensei Hosokawa. The swordmaster picked up a large scroll of paper and passed it to Jack.

  ‘Explain this!’ demanded Masamoto.

  Jack stared at the paper. It was the size of a poster with kanji scrawled across it. Having been taught the basics of Japanese handwriting by Akiko, Jack recognized his name among the characters.

  ‘What is it?’ Jack asked.

  The three samurai exchanged confused looks.

  ‘It’s a challenge declaration,’ replied Masamoto, as if that explained everything.

  Jack continued to stare in bewilderment at the scroll.

  ‘You may have succeeded in the Circle of Three, but your confidence in your abilities may be somewhat misguided,’ observed Sensei Hosokawa grimly. ‘What on earth made you think of entering into a sword duel with an unknown samurai on his musha shugyo?’

  Jack looked up in shock at the sensei. Surely they were playing a joke on him. The grave expression on their faces, however, told him otherwise.

  ‘I… didn’t enter any duel,’ stammered Jack.

  ‘Your name’s down here, claiming to be the Great Blond Samurai,’ replied Sensei Hosokawa, pointing at the kanji. ‘Sasaki Bishamon, the samurai in question, has accepted your challenge. You are expected in the duelling ground before sunset tonight.’

  Jack was stunned into silence. This couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t written his name down for any challenge. He had no wish to risk his life duelling with a samurai just to prove whose martial arts were the best. And certainly not against a warrior named after the God of War.

  His only intention was to retrieve the rutter. That was if Masamoto still allowed him to go to Nijo Castle tonight for the Circle of Three celebration. His guardian may have suspended judgement on the issue of the rutter until the following day, but the threat of it hung over Jack like a guillotine.

  Now Jack had the prospect of a duel to contend with too.

  ‘I didn’t write this,’ insisted Jack, his eyes pleading. ‘I can’t fight this samurai.’

  Jack’s mind whirled in panic. Such a duel could end in him losing a limb, or even in death. Who could have done such a thing?

  Kazuki.

  The boy had vowed he would get his revenge. This was it. Jack had to admire his rival’s genius, though. It was so neat, so Kazuki.

  ‘If not you, then who?’ asked Masamoto.

  Jack was about to blurt out Kazuki’s name, when he remembered how he had falsely accused his rival of cheating in the Circle. How wrong he had been then. He could be as mistaken in his judgement this time, jumping to conclusions based solely on his own prejudices.

  Jack looked to the floor and slowly shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘In that case, we are presented with a difficult dilemma,’ said Masamoto, taking a thoughtful sip of his sencha. ‘Your name and the name of this school have been seen on this challenge declaration around Kyoto. If you pull out of the duel now, you will bring shame not only on yourself, but on the Masamoto name and on the Niten Ichi Ryū.’

  ‘Can’t you explain that it was a mistake?’ pleaded Jack.

  ‘It would make no difference. Your challenge has been accepted.’

  ‘But surely I’m too young to fight a duel?’

  ‘How old are you?’ asked Sensei Hosokawa.

  ‘Fourteen this month,’ replied Jack with hope.

  ‘I fought my first duel at thirteen,’ reminisced Masamoto with a hint of pride. ‘Against one Arima Kibei, a famous swordsman back then. He too put up a sign appealing for challengers. I was an impetuous boy at the time, so naturally put my name down. In fact, I see a great deal of myself in you, Jack-kun. At least, sometimes. That’s why, I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t actually issue the challenge; and even more disappointed that I find out you’ve been lying to me.’

  Jack felt his cheeks flush with shame and could no longer meet his guardian’s eyes.

  ‘But no matter,’ continued Masamoto. ‘At sundown you will honour this school and prove yourself a mighty young samurai of the Niten Ichi Ryū.’

  Jack’s jaw dropped in disbelief. ‘But I haven’t sparred with a real sword yet!’

  ‘Neither had I,’ retorted Masamoto, with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘I defeated Arima with my bokken.’

  It was then that Jack realized he was to be given no option. He would have to fight the samurai.

  ‘Looks like you’ve finally got what you wished for. Your impatience to use your swords in class has caught up with you,’ commented Sensei Hosokawa with a wry smile. ‘I wouldn’t concern yourself too much, though. I’ve seen you practising with your katana in the Southern Zen Garden. Your form’s good. You could survive.’

  Could? thought Jack, alarmed by his sensei’s relaxed attitude.

  He hoped his chances were better than that.

  49

  THE DUELLING GROUND

  The young samurai lay twitching in the dust, blood spurting from his severed neck across the duelling ground in miniature rivers of red.

  The crowd bayed and whistled, hankering for more bloodshed.

  Distraught at the young man’s fate, Jack stood at the edge of the makeshift arena of spectators, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles went white and the inlaid metal menuki dug painfully into his palm.

  Staring down into the
samurai’s eyes, Jack witnessed the life drain from them like the flame of a guttering candle.

  ‘Next!’ bellowed the formidable warrior, who stood victorious in the centre of the duelling ground. The samurai on his musha shugyo was dressed in a dark red-and-white hakama. He held his katana aloft then brought it down sharply, flicking his opponent’s blood from the blade – chiburi.

  Yamato nudged his friend forward. ‘He’s calling for you, Jack.’

  ‘This is just brilliant, isn’t it?’ said Saburo, as he stuffed an obanyaki into his mouth, the custard filling of the pastry spilling down over his chin.

  ‘How can you say that?’ exclaimed Akiko.

  ‘We’ve got to see a duel! I didn’t think we’d get back in time from the Circle of Three.’

  ‘Saburo,’ said Jack, mortified at his friend’s insensitivity. ‘I’m about to die.’

  ‘No, you aren’t,’ said Saburo, dismissing the idea with a jovial grin. ‘Masamoto has agreed with your opponent that your match will be to first blood only. You might get a battle scar, but he won’t kill you.’

  ‘But that last duel was supposed to be to first blood too!’

  Saburo opened his mouth to reply, but obviously couldn’t think of anything to say, so he took another bite of his obanyaki instead.

  ‘That challenger was just unlucky, Jack,’ said Yamato, trying to calm him. ‘He pressed forward at the wrong time and got caught in the neck. An accident, that’s all. It won’t happen to you.’

  Despite his friend’s attempt at reassurance, Jack was still doubtful.

  ‘Jack!’ came a familiar cry, and the crowd opened up to let a small boy through.

  Yori hobbled over, helped by Kiku.

  ‘You should be in bed,’ chided Jack. ‘Your leg –’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ interrupted Yori, leaning on his crutch. ‘You were there for me when I needed you. Besides, I had to bring you this.’

  Yori handed him an origami crane. It was tiny, smaller than a cherry-blossom petal, but perfectly formed.