‘Well, Junjun, there’s no need to cry any more … or bow,’ reassured Benkei. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured up a pink flower and handed it to her. ‘You’re safe with us.’
The unexpected appearance of the blossom brought a shy smile to Junjun’s face. She stared at him with a combination of relief, thankfulness and awe.
‘I’m Benkei the Great,’ he announced, clearly enjoying the hero worship.
‘You were great!’ she breathed, unable to take her eyes off him.
More than happy for Benkei to receive the credit and attention for the rescue, Jack used the moment to adjust his hat and keep his face hidden from the girl.
‘What were you doing in the forest on your own?’ asked Benkei.
Junjun, clasping the flower to her chest, replied, ‘I was returning from an errand … promoting our kabuki show in Ōzu.’
‘Kabuki?’
Junjun nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s a new style of dance and drama from Kyoto. Okuni, our troupe leader, is the founder of the style. It’s proving very popular.’ She pointed down the road. ‘We’re holding a show this evening in town. Perhaps you’d like to join us as my honoured guests.’
‘A dancing troupe!’ exclaimed Benkei, his eyes twinkling with excitement. ‘We’d love to –’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ cut in Jack, ‘but we have to move on.’
Benkei turned to Jack, his expression one of protesting dismay.
Junjun tried to hide her disappointment. ‘Well, if you change your mind, we’re performing in the market square. Now I must get back for rehearsals, otherwise Okuni will worry. Thank you for coming to my rescue.’
Junjun bowed her farewell, then scampered off down the road.
‘Be careful!’ Benkei shouted after her. Then he glared at Jack. ‘Why can’t we see the kabuki show? Life shouldn’t be all fight and no play. We’re staying the night there anyway. And Junjun seemed lovely …’
Jack regretfully shook his head. ‘I’d be easily spotted and you certainly stand out in a crowd. It’s an unnecessary risk.’
‘And fighting three bandits isn’t a risk?’ shot back Benkei.
Jack didn’t reply. He’d suddenly noticed the scrawny bandit with the ponytail was missing.
28
Sword Test
‘Time to go!’ said Jack, retrieving his pack from behind the tree.
Their dispute forgotten, Benkei picked up the supply bag and they both hurried down the road in the direction of Ōzu. But they hadn’t gone twenty paces when a group of men stepped from the forest and blocked their path. Jack and Benkei turned to head back the other way, only to discover they were surrounded.
‘That’s the samurai who attacked us!’ whined the scrawny bandit, a nasty red welt marking his forehead.
The bandit gang, armed to the teeth, closed in on Jack and Benkei.
‘I told you we should have gone with Junjun,’ said Benkei, unnerved by the lethal array of weapons that now encircled them: serrated knives, studded clubs, samurai swords, spiked chains and barbed spears.
Jack unsheathed both his katana and wakizashi. This time there would be no avoiding a bloody confrontation.
‘I’ll cut a path through,’ he hissed under his breath, ‘then we’ll make a run for it.’
Benkei nodded his agreement at the plan. But, as Jack raised his swords to attack, a net dropped from a tree above. Its weight knocked them to the ground and the mesh entangled their limbs. Jack fought to cut through the ropes, but the bandits leapt on them in an instant, quickly disarming him.
‘The samurai is a … gaijin!’ exclaimed the scrawny bandit in shock as Jack’s hat became dislodged.
The gang crowded closer to gawp at their remarkable catch. Then they stepped away as a brute of a man barged his way to the front. Shaven-headed with a thick scar across his right cheek, he was dressed in a mismatch of stolen samurai armour: a red and white breastplate, brown shoulder pads and black shinguards. In his right hand, he carried a bloodstained battleaxe. From the fearful respect shown by the other bandits, he was evidently the leader of the outlaws.
‘I hear you ruined the entertainment, gaijin,’ he snarled.
‘Your men didn’t appear to be enjoying the show,’ replied Jack, secretly trying to work his hand into his pack so he could retrieve a shuriken.
The leader stepped on his wrist. ‘Don’t try any games with me.’
Jack gritted his teeth as the bandit leader twisted his foot and crunched the bones in Jack’s hand.
‘You’re a very sought-after individual,’ he continued. ‘I’ve never known so many samurai patrols in this forest. And to think that I found you –’
‘Give that back!’ cried a bandit.
The leader fumed as two of his men began arguing over the possession of Jack’s katana.
‘I got to it first,’ spat the other bandit, steadfastly holding on to the handle.
A tussle broke out between them and punches were thrown.
‘Enough!’ declared the leader, bringing his axe crashing down. The two men jumped apart a split second before the axe head cleaved them in half. ‘The sword’s now mine.’
He snatched the katana from the bandit’s grasp. Inspecting its gleaming blade, his eyes lit up at the name etched upon the steel.
‘A Shizu sword!’ he uttered in astonishment. ‘These are legendary. I’ve heard they can slice through three warriors in a single stroke!’
‘Impossible,’ declared a potbellied bandit with a drooping moustache. ‘No blade can do such a thing.’
‘If it’s sharp enough, it could,’ said a bandit with buck teeth.
‘Never. At some point, the sword would get stuck in bone.’
An argument erupted among the bandits as they debated the possibility of such a feat.
‘Quiet!’ shouted the leader, his face purple with rage at his men’s disorder. ‘There’s only one way to prove the legend. We need to test these swords … properly. By tameshigiri.’
The suggestion was greeted with enthusiastic shouts. A moment later, Jack and Benkei were hauled from the net and laid upon the ground. Held down by several strong pairs of hands, they were helpless as their ankles and wrists were bound with rope. Jack was then staked to the earth, Benkei thrown on top and his body tied to Jack’s.
Neither of them could believe what was happening.
‘If I’d known he was going to test swords on us, I’d have swallowed stones to stop the blade,’ muttered Benkei, humour his only defence against his rising panic.
Jack struggled to free his hands. He’d been quick enough to tense his muscles when the bandits had bound him, so he now had a little slack in the knots. Working his wrist back and forth, he tried to pull out a hand. But the rope was still viciously tight and he felt his skin scraping off as he yanked at the bonds.
‘But we need one more body,’ said the buck-toothed bandit.
‘Of course,’ agreed the leader, grinning. ‘Where’s that dancing girl?’
Two bandits dragged a screaming Junjun from the forest and began to lash her to Benkei.
‘No!’ pleaded Benkei, his eyes wide in shock at seeing the dancer recaptured. ‘She’s done you no harm. Let her go.’
‘I would if I could,’ sighed the leader in mock sympathy. ‘But we need to prove the legend.’
‘Then put her beneath us,’ urged Jack, realizing Junjun would have the greatest chance of survival there. He also hoped if the bandits changed their positions, he might get an opportunity to fight his way free.
‘Such gallantry when facing certain death,’ remarked the leader, nodding approvingly. ‘You are a true samurai.’
Ignoring their pleas, he took several practice swings with the katana. The blade whistled through the air, its razor-sharp edge glinting like a guillotine. Junjun fell silent with fear, her tearful eyes following the steel as it rose and fell. In her hand, she still clasped Benkei’s flower.
‘What about the reward for the gaijin?’
asked the potbellied bandit. ‘Shouldn’t we keep him alive?’
The leader shook his head and smirked, ‘Dead or alive, the order said. Besides, the Shogun might double the reward if I cut him in half!’
The bandit gang laughed heartily at their leader’s joke. But Jack didn’t find their predicament funny in the least. They were bound to stakes, at the mercy of a brutal bandit. Try as he might, he couldn’t untie his hands and soon all three of them would be slaughtered like pigs.
The bandit leader stood over them, contemplating his cut.
‘Should I aim for the chest, stomach or hips?’
‘The stomach,’ advised the buck-toothed bandit. ‘Less bone. Only their spines to chop through.’
Nodding in agreement, the leader lined up the katana with Junjun’s bellybutton, then raised the sword above his head. ‘Let’s hope for your sake, gaijin, the legend isn’t true.’
At that moment, Jack pulled his right hand free, but it was too late. The Shizu blade was already slicing down.
29
Forever Bound
Junjun screamed as the katana’s razor edge scythed towards her stomach. A spray of blood and gore splattered Jack’s face. He tensed, waiting for the steel to cleave through him too.
But the searing cut never came.
Instead, he heard a strangled guttural cry from the bandit leader. Blinking away the blood, Jack saw an arrow embedded in the man’s throat. His eyes bulging in shock, the leader dropped the Shizu sword and clasped his pulsating neck. His fingers ran red and he spewed up more gobs of blood.
Above Jack, Junjun was sobbing yet alive, the katana blade never having made contact.
With the attack so sudden and swift, the other bandits merely stared open-mouthed as their leader collapsed to his knees. Then more arrows flew and the gang of outlaws broke into a wild panic. Not knowing which way to run, they barged one another out of the way in a desperate bid to escape with their lives. The scrawny bandit fled for the cover of the trees, but an arrow struck him in the back. The potbellied bandit, tripping over him, hit his head on a rock and ended up sprawled in the earth, before being trampled by the other bandits.
‘Someone’s ruffled their feathers!’ said Benkei, glancing at their fallen leader, who was now quivering on the ground in his death throes.
Amid the chaos, Jack fumbled at the knots binding his left hand. From his position staked to the ground, he could only see the stampeding feet of the bandits. But there was no question in his mind that a samurai patrol had ambushed them. And he didn’t want to be around when they finished massacring the outlaws.
Then Jack spotted a lone samurai thundering down the road astride a white stallion. Clad in a turquoise-blue suit of armour with a bronze face mask, the warrior wielded a formidable Japanese bow and was unleashing arrow after arrow with deadly accuracy. Jack, Benkei and Junjun watched in amazement as the warrior laid waste to the bandit gang. Jack had rarely witnessed such archery skills, especially on horseback.
‘Wait, it’s only one samurai!’ cried the buck-toothed bandit, furiously waving his spear for attention.
He managed to rally a few men and they rushed to intercept their attacker. Two were felled by arrow fire before they got anywhere near. But the other three met the warrior head on. Now at close quarters, the mounted samurai switched from bow to sword. The bandits each tried to land a blow, but the samurai was too quick. Blade met blade, every attack blocked and lethally countered.
They tried to surround the samurai and attack from opposite sides, but the stallion – coaxed by a tug on the reins – reared up and lashed out with its hooves. The bandits scattered … but were a fraction too slow. One was kicked in the chest. Another was trampled under hoof and barely managed to crawl into the bushes with his life.
The buck-toothed bandit alone kept his distance. He thrust his spear at the samurai. But, with a single sword swipe, the warrior cut the shaft in two and its barbed tip clattered to the ground. The samurai then heel-kicked the bandit in the face. There was a sickening crunch as his nose imploded and his two front teeth were knocked out. He staggered backwards, howling in agony and spitting blood. Glancing at the useless stump of spear in his hand, the toothless bandit turned tail and ran off down the road.
With all the outlaws dead, wounded or fleeing, the samurai warrior dismounted the white stallion and strode over to Jack and the others. Still staked to the ground, the three of them were powerless to escape.
‘I hope this samurai doesn’t want to test any swords!’ whispered Benkei.
Jack frantically stretched his fingers for his katana lying on the earth beside the dead bandit leader … but the red leather handle was just out of reach.
Staring at Jack, the warrior picked up the sword and held it aloft. In two quick swipes, the blade cut through their bonds. The three of them rolled off one another with relief.
While Benkei helped a trembling Junjun to her feet, Jack warily approached their saviour.
‘Thank you,’ he said, bowing yet not taking his eyes off the warrior. ‘But who do we have the honour of thanking?’
The samurai removed the turquoise helmet and bronze mask. A cascade of jet-black hair unravelled past the warrior’s shoulders. A girl’s face was revealed, eyes dark as ebony, skin like cherry blossom, and with a smile that warmed Jack’s heart like no other.
‘AKIKO!’ he gasped.
With complete disregard for Japanese formalities, he embraced his friend. ‘Is it really you?’
Akiko returned his hug and whispered into his ear, ‘Forever bound to one another.’
30
Okuni
With Akiko in his arms, Jack felt time stand still. All his pain and worries melted away. It was as if the ensō inside him was whole again. He now repeated their vow – the one they’d made on the battlefields of Tenno-ji, when the bond between them had become unbreakable.
‘Forever bound to one another,’ he whispered back.
But how could Akiko be here in Kyushu? She was supposed to be in Toba, caring for her mother. After all, they’d said their final heart-wrenching farewells in the Iga mountains the previous year. Her appearance now was like a dream to him.
For a moment, they simply gazed into each other’s eyes, their breathless silence expressing more than words ever could.
A polite cough interrupted their embrace. ‘I don’t wish to break up this happy reunion,’ said Benkei, an urgency to his voice, ‘but the bandits are coming back.’
Akiko stepped away from Jack, suddenly self-conscious of their display of affection.
‘And there’s a samurai patrol not far behind me,’ she revealed, regaining her composure and handing Jack back his katana.
This double threat impelled them all into action. Jack retrieved his wakizashi from the dead leader, while Benkei gathered their belongings. Junjun, however, appeared to be in a state of severe shock. She stood unmoving, her large brown eyes fixated on Jack, the trauma of the tameshigiri evidently too much for her.
‘Y … you’re … the gaijin samurai,’ Junjun finally managed to stutter. ‘And it’s true … your hair is golden.’
Jack’s hand went to his head, his straw hat missing. He realized that Benkei’s advice not to get involved in the girl’s predicament may have been hardhearted, but it had been prudent. Now Junjun might tell the samurai patrol.
‘Well, I don’t see any gaijin,’ Benkei stated, shooting her a conspiratorial wink as he plonked Jack’s hat back on his head. ‘Do you?’
For a moment Junjun crinkled her nose in puzzlement, then it dawned on her what he was implying.
‘No,’ she replied earnestly. ‘I never saw any gaijin.’
Angry shouts warned them that the bandits were getting closer.
‘Let’s go,’ urged Akiko, mounting her stallion and taking up the reins.
With Junjun offering to guide them to Ōzu, they hastened down the road. A few well-aimed arrows from Akiko kept the outlaws at bay as they made their escape. Aft
er two more fell by the wayside, the bandits ceased their pursuit and raided their slain comrades for weapons and spoils instead.
‘Bandits have no honour!’ exclaimed Akiko, disgusted by their immoral behaviour.
But Jack was just relieved the gang had given up the chase. Yet this was no reason to slow down. ‘How close is that samurai patrol?’ he asked, running alongside Akiko’s horse.
‘In the last village, a little way up the valley,’ she replied.
‘Were they still searching for me?’
‘The whole of Japan is looking for you.’
‘Well, I’m glad it’s you who found me first,’ said Jack, grinning up at her.
‘And not a moment too soon,’ added Benkei, hurrying along beside them. ‘Any later and we’d have been sliced and diced like sushi!’
The forest had given way to paddy fields and the road now followed a broad lazy stretch of the Shira River. Further along, a small town hugged its banks and spread out like the fronds of a pond from the water’s edge. Even from a distance, Ōzu was evidently busy. A steady stream of foot traffic crossed a wooden bridge at its centre.
‘It’s market day,’ explained Junjun, pointing to an open field on the opposite bank filled with stalls, farmers and local townsfolk.
‘We should avoid the town, if we can,’ said Jack, searching for a path across the paddy fields.
‘That might look suspicious,’ said Akiko. ‘Besides, we can’t afford to waste time. If you walk by my side, with your head down, people will think you’re my retainer and not give you a second look.’
Trusting in Akiko’s judgement, Jack kept close to her horse’s flank. They entered Ōzu, Benkei taking the weight off his aching leg with a strong forked stick Junjun had found for him in the forest. The tea houses and shops were thronged with visitors and farmers from the neighbouring villages. So much so that no one paid Jack and his friends any attention.
As they crossed the town’s bridge to the market itself, they heard the twang of a shamisen and the clack of wooden clappers coming from a tented encampment. Two rectangular marquees with red and white vertical stripes were pitched inside a circular camp curtain. As Junjun stepped through a gap in the curtain, Jack spotted a wooden stage upon which two young women were dancing – their flamboyant movements like two birds-of-paradise competing in a courtship ritual.
Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky Page 11