Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky

by Chris Bradford

  ‘Depends,’ she replied, hurriedly folding up a kimono. ‘Those sleeper drugs can last all night, or … just a few hours.’

  Once Okuni had settled her business affairs with the daimyo’s treasurer and apologized for their need to leave for a booking in Shimabara the next day, she led her troupe from the reception room. Jack tottered along between Akiko and Miyuki. He kept his head down as they paraded past the daimyo, who gazed longingly at the departing Junjun. This worked in their favour, and he and Akiko slipped from the chamber unnoticed.

  Descending several flights of stairs, the kabuki troupe exited the keep and crossed the gravelled courtyard that only three days before Jack and Akiko had been dragged over as prisoners. They approached the courtyard’s inner gate. A unit of eight samurai stood sentry. Flaming torches lit the entrance, banishing the night and exposing anyone who passed beneath to their unforgiving glare.

  Jack felt himself trembling with nerves. This would be his first real test. Could he really pass himself off as a kabuki dancer? He was taller and stockier than the others. His wooden geta clumped on the stone path, seemingly louder than all the girls put together. Perspiring heavily, he now worried that his make-up might be running. Miyuki had been crazy to believe this disguise could work. Any guard worth his salt would be able to tell that he wasn’t a girl!

  But it was too late to turn back now. Okuni was showing her castle pass to the guard. Satisfied, the guard beckoned the troupe through. Jack shuffled forward. The unit of samurai eyed each of the dancers. But they weren’t looking for an escaped gaijin. They were simply admiring the girls. And Jack was quickly ushered through, none of them giving him a second glance.

  Astounded to have made it past, Jack breathed a sigh of relief … until Miyuki whispered, ‘One down, six more to go.’

  With each gate, however, Jack became more and more confident of success. The samurai soldiers, distracted by the beauty of the troupe, relaxed and lowered their guard. All the men were eager to please rather than be obstructive. With Okuni and Junjun leading the way, they breezed through each checkpoint.

  ‘Last gate,’ Miyuki whispered to Jack as the kabuki troupe proceeded along the road to the castle’s main entrance. A full detachment of samurai guarded this gateway. Armed with swords and spears, they lined either side two deep. Beyond them lay Kumamoto city and freedom. For Jack, the temptation to run was almost overwhelming. But he forced himself to maintain a steady pace. The last thing he wanted to do now was trip over.

  The guards leered as the troupe promenaded by, the girls smiling demurely and giggling with all the attention. Okuni at the head of the group handed over her castle pass to the chief guard, a hairy man with a bristling beard, heavy jowls and bulbous eyes. He gave the scroll a cursory glance and waved her through, more interested in her protégée than any paperwork.

  Akiko and Miyuki stuck close to Jack’s side, hoping to shield him from direct view. Jack kept his eyes demurely to the ground, while making every effort to walk in tiny feminine steps. Ahead, Benkei was already through the gate. Another ten paces and Jack would be too –

  ‘STOP THERE!’ ordered the chief guard.

  A criss-cross of steel spear tips forced Jack to a startled halt. The spears separated the troupe in half. His heart hammered in his chest as the chief guard strode straight over to him.

  With his bulging eyes, the man looked Jack up and down.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he demanded.

  Flustered, Jack offered what he hoped was a coy sweet smile as he thought of a suitable name. Then, remembering Benkei’s birds, he replied in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, ‘S … S … Suzume.’

  The chief guard thumbed the hilt of his sword as he considered this name. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed Miyuki reaching into the folds of her kimono sleeve, where she concealed a knife. He felt Akiko tense, ready to pounce too. They would have to make a break for it.

  The chief guard leant in close to Jack’s face. ‘Well, my little sparrow,’ he breathed into his ear, ‘you certainly caught my eye.’

  Jack yelped as he felt his bottom get pinched.

  ‘Fancy visiting my nest one day?’ the man asked, grinning like the fat slimy toad he was.

  ‘Certainly not!’ Jack replied with as much grace as he could muster. ‘This little sparrow’s flying south for the winter.’

  Acting offended by the proposition, he boldly clip-clopped past the chief guard and parted the crossed spears with his gloved hand.

  ‘Come back soon, my little sparrow!’ called the chief guard, admiring his departure from behind.

  Not likely, thought Jack, hurrying out through the gate as fast as his wooden clogs could carry him.

  40

  Reunited

  ‘We made it!’ exclaimed Benkei, giving a little skip as the kabuki troupe turned a street corner and the castle gate disappeared from view.

  Miyuki shook her head gravely. ‘We’re not out of trouble until we’re on-board the ferry and halfway to Shimabara.’

  ‘I still can’t believe your escape plan worked,’ said Jack, grabbing hold of Akiko’s arm to steady himself as they kept up their hurried pace. Okuni led them through the deserted city streets towards the harbour. Dawn was still a few hours off, but they needed to ensure they were on the first boat out of Kumamoto.

  ‘It almost didn’t when that guard took a liking to you,’ said Akiko, shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘Some men have very unusual taste!’ remarked Miyuki. ‘Anyway, I can’t take all the credit for the plan. Benkei was the one who suggested using the kabuki troupe for cover.’

  ‘Then we owe you our lives, Benkei,’ said Akiko, bowing her head, repentant for having doubted his loyalty.

  He acknowledged her praise with a humble shrug. ‘All in a day’s work for Benkei the Great!’

  The kabuki troupe crossed the bridge over the Shira River and turned down a side street.

  ‘But how did you and Miyuki meet each other in the first place?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I recognized your friends, of course,’ said Benkei, grinning like a Cheshire cat and pointing down the road.

  Jack and Akiko both came to a stunned halt. Tethered outside one of the inns was Akiko’s white stallion. Beside the horse stood a rotund young samurai with bushy eyebrows and a beaming smile. And next to him a small boy in monk’s robes carrying a shakujō ringed staff. Their shadowy appearance in the darkened street made them look like ghosts.

  ‘Saburo … Yori …’ gasped Jack, almost too scared to say their names out loud in case the spell was broken.

  Arms open wide, Jack ran towards his friends, and promptly fell flat on his face as one of his geta tripped him up. Rushing over, Saburo and Yori helped him back to his feet.

  ‘Steady there, young lady,’ smirked Saburo, trying to stifle his laughter at Jack’s comic tumble and feminine appearance. ‘These streets can be dangerous at night. Never know who you might meet!’

  Jack looked from Saburo’s face to Yori’s and back again, still not quite believing his friends were real.

  ‘Akiko!’ cried Yori in delight, as she now joined the unexpected reunion.

  ‘It’s very good to see you too,’ she smiled, bowing to them both. ‘Jack told me you’d died at sea.’

  ‘We almost did,’ said Saburo, a grim look passing across his face.

  ‘So how did you escape the storm? Or even find me?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Time for all that later,’ cut in Miyuki, collecting her pack from a pile beside the inn’s entrance. ‘First let’s catch that ferry.’

  ‘After our last experience, I hope there aren’t any pirates this time!’ said Saburo, handing Akiko the reins to her horse and picking up his own bag.

  Akiko tenderly stroked the stallion’s mane, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I never thought I’d see Snowball again. Thank you, Saburo.’

  ‘It’s not me you should thank. Yori was the one to recognize him.’

  ‘I spotted your family’s kamon
on the saddle and thought Benkei had stolen your horse,’ explained Yori.

  ‘But I hadn’t!’ Benkei interrupted, hastily defending his honour.

  ‘Then what were you doing with all their belongings, hightailing it out of Kumamoto?’ challenged Saburo.

  ‘Keeping them safe,’ he replied, offering Jack and Akiko his most sincere smile. ‘After getting the travel permits, I returned to the inn and saw the samurai patrol on the doorstep. So I hid in the stables. Once they were gone and the innkeeper was busy celebrating his future reward, I sneaked back into our rooms.’

  ‘So it was the innkeeper who betrayed us,’ said Akiko in disgust, ‘even though we paid him off!’

  Benkei shook his head. ‘It was actually his wife, Momo.’

  ‘I knew I was being watched,’ said Jack, recalling the too lifelike eyes of the koto player in the screen painting.

  ‘Anyway, I grabbed all our packs, your swords and bow, and made off on the horse. I wasn’t thinking where I was going, just trying to –’

  ‘You got my pack?’ interrupted Jack. ‘I thought the daimyo had taken everything.’

  Yori stepped forward, cradling the bag with its precious cargo. ‘I’ve been looking after it for you.’

  ‘Then it’s been in safe hands,’ said Jack, smiling at his dear friend as he felt the reassuring weight of the rutter inside.

  Reunited, he gazed in turn at Yori, Saburo, Miyuki and Akiko. His circle of friends was complete – as if another perfect ensō had been drawn in his life. ‘It’s so good to see you all … alive!’

  ‘Are you coming?’ urged Okuni, who’d been waiting anxiously with her girls. As leader of the troupe, she was only too aware of the danger she’d put them in by aiding the escape of a sworn enemy of the Shogun. Now they’d finished loading their belongings on to two handcarts and were keen to depart.

  Saddling Akiko’s horse with their packs, Jack and his friends rejoined the kabuki troupe and headed west along the main road out of Kumamoto. Still in disguise as a dancer, Jack couldn’t be seen to carry any weapons, so his swords were also strapped to the saddle. Akiko and Miyuki walked alongside him to prevent any further mishaps, while Saburo and Yori followed behind, leading the horse.

  The harbour was some distance beyond the outskirts of the city. So by the time they’d navigated the streets, avoiding the night patrols, and reached the mouth of the river, the early glow of dawn was visible on the horizon. Jack could hear the gentle wash of waves, as the velvet-black sky retreated to reveal the rippling bay before them. The silhouettes of four large wooden ferries were visible alongside a line of fishing boats moored to a broad stretch of dock. As they approached the harbour, a checkpoint loomed into view. A bamboo barrier straddled the road, beside which sat a reed-covered hut and a small wooden bunkhouse.

  ‘What about travel permits?’ Jack asked Benkei. ‘Are the ones you got still valid?’

  ‘Afraid not, but there’s no need to worry,’ Benkei replied confidently. ‘Travelling performers don’t need them. We should pass straight through without too much question.’

  As the procession reached the barrier, a bleary-eyed harbour guard emerged from the hut.

  ‘Halt!’ he growled. Unshaven and with hangdog jowls, the man leant wearily upon his spear and gave a huge yawn.

  Inside the bunkhouse, Jack could see at least a dozen other samurai snoring away. All were heavily armed, even if they weren’t yet awake.

  ‘Why are you all up so early?’ the harbour guard demanded gruffly. ‘The sun’s not even risen!’

  ‘I need to guarantee places for my whole troupe on-board the first ferry,’ replied Okuni brightly, introducing her girls with a flourish of the hand.

  But the bleary-eyed harbour guard failed to be impressed. ‘You’re performers, eh? What, all of you?’

  Okuni nodded. ‘You may know of us. My dance troupe performs kabuki all over Japan.’

  The harbour guard snorted. ‘Never heard of such a style. You’ll have to prove your talents. You, girl, show us what you can do.’

  He gestured with his spear, but no one moved. Jack wondered why the performer hadn’t begun her dance. Then his stomach knotted into a ball of shock as he realized the harbour guard had pointed at him.

  ‘Suzume is a little shy … she’s still learning the routines,’ said Okuni hurriedly. ‘How about Junjun? She’s our best dancer.’

  ‘A shy performer?’ queried the harbour guard, ignoring Okuni and eyeing Jack suspiciously. ‘The girl had better dance well or none of you will be on that ferry.’

  41

  Jig

  The harbour guard stood unsmiling, arms crossed, waiting for the show to begin. The other samurai now emerged from the bunkhouse to see what the commotion was all about. They blinked in heavy-eyed surprise at the presence of so many girls, before gathering round in anticipation of the early morning performance.

  Jack swallowed nervously as the troupe’s three musicians unpacked their instruments and waited for his cue to begin. Akiko and Miyuki reluctantly stepped away from him, wondering what he would do. A refusal to dance would arouse further suspicion and stop them boarding the ferry. Retreating to Kumamoto simply wasn’t an option. And drawing their weapons to fight the samurai could only be a last resort since it would risk the lives of the entire troupe.

  Jack had no choice but to dance.

  Slipping off his geta, Jack took his position in the middle of the road. He gave a hesitant nod and the music struck up. Its rhythm and melody were strange to his Western ears. He couldn’t distinguish any definite beat and the song seemed to unfurl with no obvious breaks or repeat of theme.

  As he stood swaying uncertainly, at a loss how to even begin, he felt the eyes of the samurai boring into him.

  ‘If this is kabuki, you can keep it. My dog dances better than this girl!’ the harbour guard grumbled.

  Jack realized he had to attempt something, however lame. He couldn’t hope to reproduce Junjun’s spellbinding performance, but since none of the samurai had ever seen kabuki before it didn’t matter what he did, as long as it was convincing. And Jack knew only one type of dance – a sailor’s jig.

  Taking up his long sleeves in his hands like hankies, he began to skip to the music. Waving his arms backwards and forwards and jumping in the air, he tried to remember the moves Ginsel, the Dutchman on-board the Alexandria, had taught him. He twirled one sleeve then the next. He bobbed up and down. Spun on the spot with his hands planted on his hips. Kicked out with his left foot. Hopped on his right. In his head, he imagined the lively tune of a fiddle and whistle and pranced enthusiastically before the harbour guard, with a fixed grin on his face.

  Okuni and her dancing troupe watched his performance with a mix of shock, fascination and utter bewilderment. Akiko and Miyuki both smiled encouragingly, but their expressions were strained to the limit. Saburo shook his head in doomed despair, while Benkei was barely able to conceal his mirth. Only Yori tried his best to clap along, acting as if he knew the dance.

  But the harbour guard and his men observed the performance in stony-faced silence.

  Jack now threw himself into the jig with an almost desperate energy. Jumping around like a firecracker, he slapped his thighs, clapped his hands, tapped his feet and circled his sleeves above his head. The samurai grew even more dumbstruck by this flailing attempt at a dance. Even the musicians trailed off as his crazy jig distracted them from their playing.

  Panting heavily, Jack pirouetted to a stop, then bowed with a dramatic flourish of the sleeves.

  A deathly silence hung in the air. The harbour guard cocked his head to one side and looked Jack up and down.

  ‘We’re as good as dead,’ whispered Miyuki, reaching for the throwing knife hidden in her kimono sleeve.

  Of the same opinion, Akiko stealthily edged towards her horse to grab her weapons.

  Then a wide-mouthed grin creased the harbour guard’s face and he roared with laughter, a full-throated guffaw bending him double. He wa
s quickly joined by the other samurai, who all began belly-laughing at the spectacle they’d just witnessed. Wiping the tears from his eyes, the harbour guard chortled, ‘That’s the … funniest dance … I’ve ever seen! No wonder your troupe is so famous!’

  Almost helpless with laughter, he raised the bamboo barrier and ushered them through.

  For a moment, Jack simply stood there, stunned by the samurai’s reaction to his earnest efforts at a dance. The jig wasn’t supposed to be funny.

  Unable to believe their good fortune, Miyuki urged him onwards and the troupe hurried through the checkpoint and into the harbour.

  ‘Well done, Jack,’ praised Yori. ‘I never knew you could dance so well.’

  Jack smiled wryly at him. Yori was a loyal friend but a terrible liar.

  ‘That wasn’t dancing,’ remarked Benkei. ‘That was a lethal form of martial arts – death by laughter!’

  ‘Remind me never to ask you for a dance, Jack!’ quipped Saburo.

  ‘Who says I’d even accept!’ Jack shot back, feigning offence at the jibes.

  ‘Good or bad, your performance saved us a fight,’ said Miyuki, glancing over her shoulder to check none of the harbour guards were following them. ‘And we certainly don’t want to leave any trail for daimyo Kato to follow. As far as he’s concerned, you two could have escaped in any direction.’

  ‘Do you think he knows by now?’ asked Yori, his staff jingling as they made their way along the harbour side.

  ‘Possibly. But if not, he soon will. They change the guards at dawn.’

  ‘Then let’s find this ferry and get out of here,’ urged Akiko.

  The dock was relatively quiet, with just the local fishermen at work this early in the morning. In no time at all, they found the ferry that was leaving first. Although the captain had barely woken, he was only too keen to have such glamorous passengers on-board his vessel. Lowering the gangplank, he welcomed each of the girls personally and offered them prime seats near the prow. The ferry was a large open-decked ship with room for some sixty passengers plus cargo. The crew helped transfer the troupe’s belongings on-board and there was even a stall for Akiko’s horse. As the girls made themselves comfortable, Jack had a quick glance round the vessel and was relieved to discover that not only did it possess a large canvas sail but a dozen burly oarsmen sat ready to power the ferry. That meant they wouldn’t be reliant upon the wind to depart – which could be an essential factor if they needed to make a quick getaway.