Young Samurai 06 - The Ring of Fire (17 page)

BOOK: Young Samurai 06 - The Ring of Fire
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‘They can’t leave yet,’ said Hayato, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘We’ve still got army training.’

‘Forget that!’ Saburo exclaimed as he collapsed against a tree. ‘Everyone’s exhausted!’

‘These farmers can either be dead tired – or dead. We
have
to practise our defence drills.’

‘But it’ll be dark soon,’ countered Saburo, looking to the others to back him up.

‘Even more reason to practise,’ said Hayato. ‘Akuma might launch his attack at night.’

‘He’s right,’ said Miyuki, her ready agreement surprising Hayato. ‘The farmers can rest once Akuma’s dealt with for good.’

As tired as he was, Jack saw the necessity for the extra training. Only through constant repetition would the farmers have any chance of mastering the vital fighting skills in time.

Jack called after Toge. ‘Gather everyone in the square for army training.’

‘What?’ he said, his face looking thinner and more gaunt than ever. ‘If we keep this up, we won’t have the strength to fight!’

‘Well, you don’t have the skill yet either,’ said Hayato matter-of-factly.

Toge scowled. ‘Whatever you command, young samurai.’

After several calls to assemble, the villagers eventually congregated in the square and wearily took up their positions. Standing on the veranda for a clear view, Hayato led them through their drills. The units shambled to and fro, their long spears rising and falling in disorganized waves. Their half-hearted efforts infuriated Hayato.

‘No! An
arrow
formation!’ he shouted at the Digging unit, holding his hands up in a V-shape. ‘For attack.’

The Digging unit clumsily rearranged themselves on Saburo’s instruction. At the same time, a farmer in the Bridge unit dropped his spear during a mock charge. A mass pile-up of bodies formed as several men tripped over it and went flying. Jack, who’d taken control of the unit for the drill session, began to feel Hayato’s frustration.

‘Stop!’ cried Hayato in despair. ‘All of you, STOP!’

The villagers stood where they were and stared glumly at their young commander.

‘I’ve seen monkeys more coordinated than you! Have you learnt
nothing
in the past week?’

‘We’re trying our best,’ said Toge indignantly.

‘Well, your best isn’t good enough! You must
focus
. Do I need to remind you the black moon is almost here?’ A collective shiver ran through the villagers and they all bowed their heads submissively. ‘Then back to your original positions. And this time, FOCUS!’

In the rush to reorganize themselves, even more chaos ensued.

Jack ran over. ‘Maybe we should take a break?’

‘We’ve not made enough progress yet.’

Yori joined the conversation. ‘Perhaps you’re being too hard on them?’

Hayato shook his head. ‘Having attended the
Niten Ichi Ryū
, I thought you’d understand the importance of rigorous training.’

‘I do,’ said Yori. ‘But they’re not
that
bad.’

‘Use your eyes, Yori. They’re a lost cause! There’s no fighting spirit. No
kiai
! No
bushido
!’

‘I’m sure, when the time comes, they’ll pull together.’

‘I wish I had your faith,’ said Hayato.

He strode over to the blacksmith’s hut, found the iron bar and hammer, and began clanging it loudly.

‘BANDITS! BANDITS!’ he screamed at the top of his voice.

Startled by the sudden alarm, the villagers scrambled in all directions. Units collided with one another and spears became entangled as they ran in panic to their prearranged defensive positions.

Hayato walked back with a resigned expression. ‘Not even close to being ready.’

The drill practice continued late into the evening. The light was almost gone, yet still they trained. The false alarm had proved to all the young samurai and their units that much more needed to be done. And they committed every last bit of energy to instructing and encouraging the exhausted farmers.

‘Drill number one
again
!’ ordered Hayato, his voice hoarse from shouting. ‘The lines mustn’t break like that. Remember, in a storm a single tree falls, but a forest still stands. How many times must I tell you?’

As the farmers dragged their worn-out bodies into formation for the umpteenth time, Toge threw his spear to the ground. ‘I’ve had enough!’

He stomped off, but Hayato leapt from the veranda and seized his arm.


Never
desert your post!’ growled Hayato.

Toge tried to shake Hayato off. ‘Let me go! I’m
not
one of your samurai.’

‘That’s the problem,’ replied Hayato, releasing him with disgust. ‘You give in so easily. As samurai, we don’t have that choice. We
must
fight. It’s our fate.’

‘Well, it wasn’t
my
fate!’ Toge shouted, his cheeks flushed with anger. ‘I was born a farmer – not a samurai. This training is too little, too late.
All too late!

Stamping on his bamboo spear, he snapped it in half and stormed off.

‘Toge’s right,’ mumbled an old man. ‘We’re fooling ourselves. We’ll never be warriors.’

This was met with a murmur of defeated consent. As the despondency spread, more and more farmers lowered their spears and trudged back to their homes.

The young samurai watched helpless as their army disbanded.

Saburo shook his head regretfully. ‘Now I understand why my father says the farmers need us more than we need them. They may grow the rice, but they don’t have the will to protect it for our nation.’

With army training cut short, the young samurai drifted back to the farmhouse, Hayato kicking at the snow in frustration. As Jack started to follow, Sora shuffled over to him.

‘I must apologize for Toge’s behaviour,’ he said, bowing low. ‘He’s always upset near the time of the black moon. His wife was killed by Akuma in last year’s raid – for hiding a handful of rice to feed their little boy.’

Jack glanced at the shadowy figure of Toge, crouching on his own by the pond. ‘He has a son?’

Sora woefully shook his head. ‘Not any more.’

The old farmer then walked away, dragging his spear behind him.

The square had emptied of all people and Jack stood alone. His heart went out to Toge. The farmer seemed crushed by the weight of his grief, all the spirit beaten from him by a tragic life.

Yori returned from the farmhouse. ‘Are you coming, Jack? Neko’s got the fire started.’

Jack sighed. ‘Perhaps Hayato’s right. These farmers
are
a lost cause. They’ve been so trodden down, they can no longer make a stand, even if they want to.’

‘Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day,’ replied Yori. ‘But teach him how to fish, and he’ll never starve.’

‘But they’ll need a
lifetime
of teaching before they can defend the village,’ argued Jack. ‘We’ve only a few days. This crusade of ours is futile.’

‘If you’ve nothing to lose, then nothing can be lost in the trying,’ countered Yori. He paused, clearly pleased with his new proverb. ‘Akuma will attack whether you help or not. But you’re giving these farmers a fighting chance. That’s more than they’ve ever had before.’

29

WANTED

‘Jack! You’d best hear this for yourself,’ said Miyuki, waking him the next morning.

She roused the others and led them quietly to the back of Junichi’s farmhouse. Peering through the gap in the wall, they could see a crowd of villagers gathered before Junichi, Toge and Yoshi. A young farmer sat in the middle of the room, all eyes and ears fixed on him.

‘And who told you this?’ asked Junichi.

‘A travelling merchant,’ he replied. ‘A sign’s been posted in Okayama market.’

‘How much is the reward?’

‘Four
koban
!’ he breathed, his eyes wide.

There was a collective gasp of amazement and the farmers began to whisper excitedly to one another.

‘That’s enough gold coin to feed the entire village for over a year,’ said Junichi, rubbing his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

‘Or we could pay off Akuma,’ suggested one of the farmers. ‘And we wouldn’t need to fight.’

‘It’d certainly be less painful than suffering the torture of any more army training!’ said Toge.

Junichi held up his hand for silence. ‘Are you suggesting we turn Jack Fletcher in?’

‘Without question!’ declared an elderly farmer. ‘He’s a wanted criminal. A traitor to the Shogun.’

‘No!’ cried Sora, pushing his way to the front. ‘Jack’s our saviour.’

‘He’s our downfall!’ shot back the farmer. ‘If we continue to protect him, the Shogun will raze our village to the ground and kill us all!’

The other farmers murmured their agreement.

‘But without Jack, we’re at the mercy of Akuma.’

The elderly farmer snorted. ‘That
gaijin
doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s just a boy playing at being samurai! Desperation drove us to use him. But now we have a better option.’

‘Have you forgotten Jack was the
only
samurai willing to help us?’ interjected Yuto, pleading with the other villagers. ‘He saved our baby and he can save this village too.’

‘But Jack will
still
be saving us,’ countered Toge. ‘That four
koban
would solve a lot of our problems.’

Yoshi coughed for attention. ‘And what will we do next year when Akuma returns? We won’t have another
gaijin
samurai to betray.’

‘We’ll hire real samurai to get rid of Akuma!’ argued the elderly farmer.

Yoshi laughed bitterly. ‘Do you truly believe
daimyo
Ikeda will hand over the reward?’

‘He’d have to! The money comes direct from the Shogun.’


Daimyo
Ikeda will want all the glory for capturing the
gaijin
samurai – and the money.’

‘But we can’t defy the Shogun!’

‘We already have,’ snapped Yoshi. He eyed the villagers with contempt. ‘Is
this
how we repay those who risk their lives to help us?’

The young samurai watched as a heated argument broke out among the villagers, who were torn between fear, duty and a debt of gratitude.

Jack felt his stomach harden into a knot. Nowhere was safe for him to hide any more. And with such a large reward on offer, no one could be trusted either. He didn’t blame the impoverished farmers for being tempted. But after everything he’d done for them, he couldn’t believe they’d simply hand him over.

Miyuki turned to Jack. ‘I think it’s time you left.’

‘But what about Akuma?’ asked Jack.

‘Your sense of honour is admirable,’ said Hayato. ‘But these farmers aren’t worth it. I told you, they’ve no
bushido
, no sense of loyalty.’

‘They won’t turn me in,’ insisted Jack.

‘Farmers are as changeable as the seasons,’ replied Hayato. ‘You can’t trust them.’

Jack looked to Neko, who was desperately trying to follow what was happening. He wished his faltering sign language was more advanced so he could explain.

‘We can take her with us,’ Miyuki suggested.

‘Us?’ said Jack.

Miyuki nodded, holding his gaze. ‘You don’t think I’ll abandon you now!’

‘You can count on me too,’ said Yori faithfully. ‘And Saburo.’

‘Of course,’ said Saburo. ‘For that sort of money, I might hand you in myself!’

They all looked aghast at him.

‘I’m only joking,’ he added quickly. ‘But the Shogun’s clearly desperate to get his hands on you, Jack. That’s the second time he’s doubled the price on your head.’

‘This is no time for jokes,’ said Hayato sternly. ‘Jack, you’d best gather your belongings and go. Yuudai and I will delay any attempt at pursuit.’

‘But when Akuma discovers the farmers intended to put up a fight, he’ll destroy the village,’ argued Jack.

‘It’s the fate of farmers to suffer,’ said Hayato. ‘They’ve brought it on themselves. Now go!’

But as they went to leave, Yori beckoned them back to the wall.

‘Wait!’ he said. ‘Junichi’s called a vote.’

‘All those in favour of turning the
gaijin
in, raise your hands,’ instructed the village leader.

The elderly farmer’s arm shot straight up, followed by several others.

From his restricted view through the rear wall, Jack couldn’t see how all the villagers were voting. But there seemed to be a lot of hands.

‘Those against.’

Yuto’s hand went up, followed by Sora’s, then the farmer’s next to him. More arms were raised. Junichi began to count off the vote as Sora frantically encouraged others to follow his lead. Jack felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. With his friends by his side, he didn’t fear the farmers. But he did fear the Shogun’s samurai. And their noose was once again tightening around him.

‘That settles it,’ declared Junichi. ‘We agree to
ignore
the Shogun’s order, whatever the consequences …’

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. His faith in the farmers had paid off.

‘Well, there’s a surprise!’ said Hayato, raising his eyebrows. ‘Farmers displaying honour and loyalty.’

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