Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky

by Chris Bradford

  ‘Junjun! There you are!’

  The music stopped and a beautiful woman in a purple and green kimono came running across. Her hair was styled into a curving bob that perched on her head like a black falcon with folded wings. Her flawless face was painted white as snow with her lips stained the colour of rubies. Black and red make-up rimmed her eyes and her brows had been redrawn like the fine strokes of a Shodo brush. She reminded Jack of an exquisite porcelain doll.

  Despite her delicate appearance, the angry look on her face told a different story.

  ‘Where have you been?’ demanded the woman. ‘Rehearsals started ages ago.’

  ‘Sorry, Okuni,’ said Junjun, looking apologetically down at her feet. ‘But I was attacked by bandits. These samurai saved me.’

  With formality and practised grace, Okuni bowed her respects to Jack and Akiko. She smiled openly at Benkei, whose colourful appearance seemed to garner her approval.

  ‘It’s heartening to discover there are still true samurai in this land,’ she said, addressing Akiko. ‘Junjun is one of our star performers; we’d be lost without her. Please honour us by being our guests for this evening’s kabuki show.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but we cannot stay,’ replied Akiko.

  ‘It’s not to be missed,’ insisted Okuni with evident pride in her voice. ‘We perform in towns and festivals all over Japan, and even for daimyos and the Imperial Court.’

  ‘Another time perhaps. I’m afraid we have an urgent engagement in Kumamoto.’

  ‘But it’s late already,’ she protested, indicating the sun sinking low on the horizon. ‘You won’t get there tonight. Why not rest here?’

  The sound of pounding hooves caused them all to turn. A patrol of six mounted samurai thundered down the road on the opposite bank. Jack fought the urge to run. They had to appear unconcerned by the patrol’s arrival. Akiko casually pulled on the reins of her horse to leave, although the apprehension in her face belied the approaching threat.

  Junjun whispered urgently in Okuni’s ear. The woman’s eyes widened, her shock accentuated to dramatic proportions by her make-up.

  ‘And this samurai saved your life?’ Okuni asked again, reassessing the hatted warrior before her.

  Junjun nodded emphatically.

  ‘Then we are in his debt.’

  She bowed once more to Jack and the others. ‘Do not worry, my girls will distract the patrol.’

  Okuni clapped her hands and beckoned her performers. A group of young ladies, all dressed in colourful robes and their faces painted white, scurried out.

  ‘We have potential patrons,’ she announced, indicating the mounted patrol. ‘Ensure they stay to see this evening’s performance.’

  Giggling and fluttering their fans, the kabuki troupe crossed the bridge to head off the samurai.

  ‘Junjun, you need to get changed for rehearsals,’ reminded Okuni sternly.

  Bowing a final goodbye, and with a lingering look towards Benkei, Junjun hurried inside the curtained encampment.

  ‘Like the cherry blossom in spring, she disappears again!’ sighed Benkei.

  ‘You’re a poet?’ queried Okuni, with the protective tone of a mother.

  ‘No, a conjuror.’

  Okuni seemed pleased by this answer. ‘Perhaps one day you can show us your talents? We’re always looking for new acts.’

  ‘I’d very much like to –’

  ‘Come on!’ urged Jack.

  Offering an apologetic smile, Benkei hobbled after Jack and Akiko as they lost themselves in the throng of the market. The patrol reached the bridge and paused, their eyes drawn to their glamorous welcome party. The six men stood little chance against the charms and attention of so many beautiful girls. Like sailors bewitched by the song of the sirens, they dismounted their horses and allowed themselves to be led into the tented enclave.

  With the patrol hopelessly distracted, Jack, Akiko and Benkei left the market and disappeared down the road towards Kumamoto.

  31

  No Butterfly

  Benkei sat astride the white stallion. Akiko had offered her saddle to him so he could rest his leg following their escape. And although he’d never ridden a horse before – such a privilege being reserved for the samurai class – he was clearly enjoying the experience. Settling in the saddle, he patted the horse affectionately and announced, ‘This is the only way to travel!’

  Jack and Akiko walked on ahead, leading the horse by its reins. With evening drawing in, the dirt road to Kumamoto was deserted and Jack and Akiko were able to talk freely. Lost in each other’s company, they barely heard Benkei as he continued to expound the virtues of riding to the only companion now listening – the horse. ‘No more aching feet, no more muddy sandals …’

  ‘How did you ever find me?’ asked Jack, still reeling from Akiko’s surprise arrival.

  ‘I knew you were headed for Nagasaki, but it was mostly luck,’ she explained, then raised her eyebrows in a teasing accusation. ‘Not that you were too difficult to follow given the trail of destruction you leave behind!’

  Jack held up a hand to protest his innocence. ‘I’m just trying to get home. And I left some clues on purpose.’

  ‘I know, and you’ve made some very loyal friends on the way too,’ she added with a smile. ‘Shiryu sends his regards, as do Yuudai and Hana.’

  ‘Hana?’ exclaimed Jack, fondly remembering the girl thief who’d helped him recover his stolen swords and possessions. ‘So she made it safely to Toba?’

  Akiko nodded. ‘Along with my brother.’

  As she said this, her eyes lit up and her face seemed to radiate happiness. Jack realized how important her brother’s homecoming was to her. Kiyoshi had been kidnapped by the ninja Dragon Eye when he was just five and Akiko had spent years searching for him. By pure good fortune, Jack had discovered her brother living among a ninja clan, hidden in the Iga mountains. He’d managed to reunite Kiyoshi with his sister, but their meeting had been brief – the ninja clan forced deeper into the mountains for safety, and Kiyoshi going with them.

  ‘My mother is beside herself with joy at seeing Kiyoshi again,’ explained Akiko. ‘And he and Hana agreed to stay and look after her, while I came looking for you.’

  ‘But didn’t Hana warn you about Kazuki?’

  ‘Of course. She told me the danger you were in.’

  ‘But so are you,’ insisted Jack, alarmed that his warning had gone unheeded. ‘Even more so now you’re with me.’

  ‘I’m no defenceless butterfly, Jack,’ Akiko replied, laying a hand upon her bow and narrowing her eyes with steely determination. ‘If Kazuki wants to find me, let him come. But he’ll discover I’m the bee that stings him first.’

  Jack had to admire Akiko. She was as brave as she was beautiful. But Jack also knew that Kazuki was as devious as he was deadly.

  ‘Kazuki’s not an enemy to be underestimated,’ he reminded her. ‘He has the help of his Scorpion Gang and a thirst for revenge. By leaving a trail, I’ve been trying to lead him away in order to protect you.’

  Akiko’s expression softened. ‘I know you strive to be the “English gentleman”, Jack. But I’m the daughter of a samurai. I’m a trained warrior and know how to look after myself. Besides, together we stand a greater chance of defeating Kazuki.’ She took his hand in hers, this time not caring if Benkei saw.

  Jack realized her plan made sense. He began to wonder why fate had ever parted them in the first place. They were meant to walk this road together.

  Akiko let out a small gasp of shock.

  ‘Who did this to you?’ she asked, for the first time noticing his missing fingertip.

  ‘Sensei Kyuzo,’ said Jack, touched by the tender way she examined his injury.

  Akiko’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘NO! He wouldn’t dare …’

  But she saw the cruel truth in Jack’s eyes. She sorrowfully shook her head. ‘The Shogun has much to answer for. His rule is destroying the very spirit of bushido. It’s a dark day when a
sensei turns against his student.’

  They walked on in silence, their shadows following hand in hand, stretched thin and long across the road by the dying light of the day.

  ‘Can we stop, please?’ moaned Benkei, his face grimacing in pain with every jolt of the saddle. ‘My rear’s bruised black and blue!’

  Spotting a copse of trees, they turned off the road to make camp. Benkei stiffly dismounted and stroked the stallion’s mane.

  ‘Thanks for the ride, horse, but I think I’ll stick to walking tomorrow.’

  While Akiko tended to her stallion and unpacked their provisions, Jack and Benkei went off to collect firewood.

  ‘So what’s the story with you and the samurai girl?’ asked Benkei, as he picked up a dead branch and passed it to Jack.

  ‘We trained at the Niten Ichi Ryū together.’

  ‘Looks more than that to me!’ pressed Benkei, giving him a knowing wink.

  ‘Akiko’s just a good friend,’ Jack insisted, feeling his face flush.

  Benkei suppressed a grin. ‘Of course,’ he replied and continued gathering wood.

  Once Jack’s arms were full, they returned to camp and built a fire. Akiko wrapped several handfuls of rice in a cloth, soaking the bundle in water before burying it beneath the fire to cook. Among the supplies Shiryu had given them, Benkei found a couple of dried fish and Jack cut these into strips to eat with the rice.

  As the sun dipped behind the mountains and darkness closed in, they gathered round the fire. The tinder-dry wood cracked and popped, sending sparks like fireflies into the night sky.

  ‘Did you know the reward is now twenty koban?’ said Akiko, digging out the cooked rice and sharing it between them.

  Jack shook his head in disbelief; every month the Shogun seemed to double the price on his head.

  ‘Twenty koban!’ exclaimed Benkei, almost choking on his fish. ‘That’s enough gold coin to feed a man for a lifetime!’

  ‘You’re not thinking of turning me in, are you?’ asked Jack, grinning playfully as he tucked into his rice.

  ‘I could do with a new kimono,’ replied Benkei in all seriousness and began inspecting his tattered patchwork of robes. Then he noticed Akiko glaring at him. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Akiko! The nanban saved my life. He’s my friend.’

  Akiko smiled cordially, but Jack could tell she didn’t fully trust Benkei. His explanation of how he’d met the conjuror caused her to question Benkei’s integrity. In her opinion, anyone found buried up to his neck in sand and who made a living tricking people wasn’t to be trusted. But in the time Jack had known Benkei he’d more than proved his loyalty.

  As soon as the meal was over, they turned in for the night. Akiko unclipped a blanket from the saddlepack on her horse and spread it on the ground.

  ‘Three’s a crowd!’ remarked Benkei, giving a wide, obviously feigned, yawn. ‘I’ll let you two catch up. See you in the morning!’

  Finding a grassy patch and a rock for a pillow, he lay down, wrapped his kimono tightly around him and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was snoring away. Jack didn’t mind if Benkei was faking sleep; he just appreciated the gesture of privacy.

  Akiko settled on the blanket and invited Jack to join her. For a while they sat in silence, the chirps of the crickets sounding all around them, the flickering light of the fire dancing off their faces.

  ‘So tell me,’ whispered Akiko, ‘did you really save an entire village from bandits?’

  Jack nodded.

  Akiko gazed at him with wonder and admiration, but also a touch of sadness. ‘Your good heart will get you killed one day.’

  Jack prodded the dying embers of the fire with a stick, unable to meet her eye. ‘And my friends.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Holding his head in his hands, Jack tried to pluck up the courage to tell her. ‘They’re dead … Yori … Saburo … Miyuki.’

  Akiko went visibly pale at the news. ‘No … they can’t be!’

  ‘All drowned at sea … and it’s my fault.’

  Jack tearfully recounted their escape from Pirate Island, the devastating storm that struck their tiny boat and his failure to sail them safely to shore. Akiko listened without interruption or judgement. When he’d finished, she laid a hand on his arm to comfort him.

  ‘It was an act of nature. You mustn’t blame yourself. ‘

  Jack swallowed hard, trying not to let grief overwhelm him once more. ‘But I do. If I hadn’t agreed to them coming with me, they would still be alive.’

  ‘Jack, it was their choice. They were willing to risk their lives to help you get home. They wanted to be with you … just like I do.’

  Akiko gently kissed Jack on the cheek, then lay down. ‘Get some rest. We need to make an early start to stay ahead of the patrol.’

  Despite his exhaustion, Jack continued to coax the fire a while longer. He fought sleep, not wanting to close his eyes, in case he woke the following morning to find Akiko’s arrival was all just a dream.

  32

  Kumamoto Castle

  ‘The hop’s done – only a skip and a jump left!’ declared Benkei, pointing to Shimabara Bay in the hazy distance.

  With the morning sun at their backs, Jack and Akiko joined him on the rise and gazed across the grassy plain. The Shira River meandered like a silver thread before passing through the city of Kumamoto to join the glistening waters beyond. Across the bay, its summit shrouded in cloud, the volcanic peak of Unzen-dake could be seen brooding on the far reaches of the horizon.

  But what drew Jack’s eye was Kumamoto Castle. Set atop the only high ground on the floodplain, the fortress dominated the skyline. Built on epic proportions, the complex even challenged Osaka Castle in size – and that had been a city in itself. The stone walls boasted over fifty turrets and the battlements stretched for almost a mile in each direction. From what Jack could make out, the formidable fortifications enclosed a grand palace with majestic arching roofs, several gardens, a proliferation of courtyards, rows of barracks, at least four tree groves, a small lake and, at its heart, a black-and-gold keep that looked like an armoured eagle poised for flight. Beyond the castle walls, Kumamoto city itself fanned out across the plain, the dwellings clustered like dutiful servants in the shadow of the fortress.

  ‘Kumamoto is the stronghold of daimyo Kato,’ warned Akiko, as they set off towards the city. ‘A fiercely loyal supporter of the Shogun, he rules this province with an iron fist – even prides himself on the brutality of his samurai to keep law and order. So we must stay vigilant.’

  ‘Nothing like putting your head into the lion’s mouth!’ remarked Benkei drily.

  ‘Sometimes that’s the best place to hide,’ said Akiko, ‘since it’s the last place they’ll look.’

  Despite her words, Jack was bracing himself for a rough ride. Kumamoto was likely to be the most dangerous part of their journey. The streets would be crawling with samurai and metsuke, the Shogun’s spies. One false step and there’d be nowhere to run or hide. But he accepted that the risk was necessary. Kumamoto was the only realistic crossing point to Shimabara. The alternative was to trek round the inland Ariake Sea, which would add weeks to their journey – as well as increasing the opportunities for being spotted. But once on the ferry and across the bay they would be home free – Nagasaki less than two days’ travel. With such a gain, they’d all agreed the gamble was worth taking.

  They reached the city outskirts towards late afternoon. The streets and alleyways bustled with travellers, merchants, samurai, craftsmen plying their trade and ronin looking for work … or trouble. Jack kept his head down, walking obediently alongside Akiko’s horse and fulfilling his role as the faithful retainer. The steady stream of foot traffic was both a danger and a cover. Every pair of eyes threatened to discover his identity. Yet most people were too busy going about their daily business to pay a samurai retainer much attention.

  As the three of them made their way through the winding streets, they passed the outer per
imeter of the castle. Jack risked a glance up and was astounded by the sheer scale of the fortifications. Up close, the immense walls rose above them like a tidal wave of rock. The smooth curving stone-block construction raked at such a steep angle that no one could possibly climb it. And even if, by some miracle, an invader did manage such a climb, then they would be faced by the perilous overhangs of the battlements. Hatches in every section threatened to release an avalanche of rocks, boiling oil and other lethal deterrents.

  If any castle can be described as impenetrable, this is it, thought Jack.

  They carried on down a street lined with stalls selling fried noodles, yakitori, ramen and many more mouthwatering dishes, as well as a few less savoury items like candied crickets and pickled pigs’ ears. Strips of meat and slices of fish sizzled on little grills and the spicy aroma of cooking eventually became too tempting. Having not eaten since breakfast, Akiko gave Benkei the money to buy three steaming bowls of ramen. Sitting on a wooden bench beside the noodle stall, the three of them ate ravenously.

  All of a sudden, cries of alarm broke out and the people in the street scattered. A unit of samurai in black-and-red armour, a white circular kamon on their breastplates, marched four abreast down the road. As they advanced, a ripple of fear seemed to pass through the crowd. Like toppling dominoes, the inhabitants bowed their heads or prostrated themselves on the ground, according to status.

  ‘Stay calm,’ urged Akiko, putting down her bowl. ‘And bow like everyone else.’

  Jack did as he was told, pulling his hat lower, yet keeping his eyes alert.

  The samurai unit headed straight for them. Jack’s hand twitched for his sword. He noticed Akiko reaching for hers at the same time. The sound of marching feet drew closer and Jack grasped the handle of his katana ready to do battle.