Young Samurai 06 - The Ring of Fire (9 page)

‘No,
I’m
the champion!’ cut in the other samurai, striding angrily over. ‘Tell us how old you are,’ he demanded of the boy.

‘Fifteen … and a half.’

‘See! He’s not yet of age.’

‘What does age have to do with it?’ argued the boy. ‘I beat you.’

The samurai looked ready to explode. ‘You arrogant child! I’ll teach you your place,’ he said, waving a fist in the boy’s face.

The boy didn’t flinch. ‘I welcome a challenge.’

‘Then we’ll double the target distance
and
put it on water,’ snapped the samurai. ‘Best of two arrows.’

The boy coolly bowed his acceptance and the crowd buzzed with excitement at this unprecedented development. The official ordered a porter to move a target on to a boat and row it out into the middle of the river. A path was cleared from the veranda to the dock, allowing a clear line of sight for the two archers.

‘Now we’ll prove who is the
true
champion,’ said the samurai, lining himself up to take his first shot. ‘Prepare to be humiliated.’

With practised ease, he raised his bow, pulled back on the string and released the arrow. It soared through the air, arcing high above the crowd and towards the distant bobbing boat. They all strained to see where it would land upon the target. But, even without the porter raising a black flag in confirmation, it was clear that the arrow had struck dead centre – a bullseye.

The crowd went wild – no one had ever witnessed such an incredible feat before.

Caught up in his own conceit, the samurai shot the boy a superior look before taking his next shot. This was his mistake. The tiny break in his concentration sent the second shot a fraction off-course. The porter, his eyes wide with alarm, leapt from the boat and into the river as the stray arrow struck the wooden seat he’d just been sitting on.

This time the crowd broke into laughter.

‘It was
meant
to test his reactions,’ muttered the samurai, trying to cover up his error as the bedraggled porter clambered back in. ‘You’ll be lucky to even hit the boat, boy!’

Ignoring the samurai’s jibes, the boy positioned himself side-on to the target, forming a perfect A-shape with his body. Jack recognized the motions the boy was going through from his own
kyujutsu
training – the perfect balance, the unwavering focus, and the combining of the spirit, bow and body as one.

The boy moved with the fluidity of a single breath and, upon release, the arrow cut through the cold air like a knife. The eyes of the crowd followed it across the sky and towards the constantly shifting target. As it landed, a splintering sound travelled back across the waters to the dock.

Raising a soggy black flag with a trembling hand, the porter cried out, ‘The boy split the samurai’s arrow in half!’

More amazed applause burst forth from the crowd.

‘I think we’ve found our first young samurai,’ said Jack, grinning at the others.

The boy placed his second arrow back into his quiver and stepped off the veranda.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ demanded the samurai.

‘I’ve nothing else to prove,’ replied the boy.

‘Come back here! I’m not finished with you.’

But the boy continued to walk away. The applauding crowd parted to let him through. Utterly humiliated, the samurai reached for an arrow with which to kill his opponent. Jack was about to shout a warning, when the boy spun round with lightning speed, drew his own arrow and shot at the samurai first.

But the arrow flew clear past the man’s shoulder and disappeared into the depths of the warehouse.

With a sorry shake of his head, Saburo leant close to Jack. ‘Are you
sure
we want him?’

Laughing, the samurai nocked an arrow and slowly drew back on his bow. ‘Now you’ll pay for your insolence.’

The boy stood his ground.

He merely watched as the warehouse’s
saké
barrels tumbled off their cart, bounced across the wooden dock and hurtled into the samurai. The impact knocked the man clean over the side. With the boy’s arrow having sliced through the cart’s binding rope, several more heavy barrels rapidly followed their victim into the murky depths of the river.

By the time the battered and half-drowned samurai was rescued, the boy had disappeared into the crowd.

13

HAYATO

‘Any luck?’ asked Jack, returning to the storehouse with Toge. Having lost sight of the archer boy, the five of them had split up to find him.

Slumped on his haunches, Sora woefully shook his head.

‘Are Yori or Saburo back yet?’

‘What do
you
think?’ Kunio sulked, waving a hand at the empty room.

Toge clipped the boy round the ear. ‘Show some respect!’

‘
Ow!
’ cried Kunio, rubbing his head and bowing an apology to Jack. ‘But why did
I
have to miss the
Tōshiya
contest? Sora could have guarded the rice.’

‘We weren’t there for the show! Need I remind you our village is at stake –’

The door opened and Yori stepped through, a flurry of snow following in his wake. They all looked expectantly in his direction.

Yori shook his head as he dusted himself down and put his
shakujō
in the corner. ‘I asked everyone I met, but no one saw the boy cross the bridge or head west out of town.’

Jack sighed wearily. ‘He would have been perfect for this mission.’

‘There will be others,’ consoled Yori.

‘Will there?’ snapped Toge, his cheeks hollower than ever in his despair. ‘As poor farmers, we can’t afford proper
ronin
! All we can persuade are children! And I didn’t see that many
young
samurai at the contest!’

‘There were at least two others,’ countered Jack.

‘And how are we supposed to find
them
now? We’re running out of time. The black moon is only three weeks away!’

‘Have faith,’ said Yori.

‘Faith?’ spat Toge. ‘Every year I pray to the gods. I pray for rain. I pray for sun. I pray for a good harvest. I pray that we can feed the village. I
pray
that Akuma won’t come! And do the gods answer?’

‘They will,’ assured Yori.

‘For you, they might. But not for us farmers!’ shouted Toge.

Consumed with frustrated rage, he stomped out through the back of the storehouse, leaving Jack and the others to stare at one another in shocked silence.

Neko appeared a moment later, her eyes panicking. But once she spotted Jack, she breathed a sigh of relief and went back to preparing dinner.

‘Please don’t take his words to heart,’ said Sora meekly. ‘He’s upset, that’s all. He always is when Black Moon nears.’

Nodding their understanding, Jack and Yori settled upon the wooden platform and waited for Saburo to return.

‘Do you think he’s all right?’ asked Yori, peering out at the darkening sky.

‘He’s probably eating!’ quipped Jack, in an attempt to mask his own unease.

Another hour went by and Neko served up a meal of plain rice and a few steamed vegetables. They ate in silence, Yori and Jack’s concern for Saburo growing with each passing moment.

All of a sudden, the door flew open. Jack leapt to his feet, sword in hand.

‘I found him!’ cried Saburo, wind and snow swirling into the room.

Sheathing his blade, Jack hurriedly put on his hat to cover his face as Saburo ushered a shadow in from the cold.

The archer boy entered, his falcon-brown eyes darting round the room for any threats.

‘Please sit with us,’ said Saburo, inviting him to join Yori and Jack on the raised platform.

The boy’s gaze lingered on Jack, noting his concealed face, but he made no comment. Seemingly satisfied with his safety, he laid down his bow and knelt in a half-seated position. He wasn’t taking any chances – with one knee still raised and a
katana
on his hip, the boy could react instantly to any surprise attack.

Neko rushed over with two bowls of steaming rice. Saburo tucked in, but the boy politely waved his meal away.

‘I’ve already eaten, with Saburo,’ he said. ‘You may have it.’

Neko looked to Jack for an explanation. Jack clumsily signed that the meal was hers. Delighted, she beamed at Jack, then bowed gratefully to the boy.

‘This is Hayato,’ announced Saburo through a mouthful of rice. ‘I found him practising in the fields.’

Hayato gave a humble bow, then glanced to where Toge, Sora and Kunio crouched in the corner. ‘I understand these farmers have a problem with bandits.’

‘Yes,’ Jack replied, returning the boy’s greeting. ‘Has Saburo explained about the enemy we’re facing?’

Hayato nodded, apparently unfazed by the prospect of such a dangerous foe.

‘And that the farmers can only offer food and lodging as payment?’

Again, Hayato nodded. ‘That’s more than enough. As a samurai, it’s my duty and honour to protect the rice that feeds our nation.’

Jack, Saburo and Yori looked at one another. The boy was pure
bushido
: the ideal that Masamoto always drove his students to attain. They couldn’t wish for a better ally. But there was one more hurdle to overcome.

Turning back to Hayato, Jack said, ‘If you are to join us, there’s something you should know first.’

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst, Jack removed his hat.

Hayato’s eyes widened momentarily and his hand edged towards his
katana
, but his demeanour did not change.

‘I presume you’re the infamous
gaijin
samurai.’

Jack’s own hand now twitched for his sword.
Was the boy intending to kill him for the reward?

‘Are there any
more
surprises?’ asked Hayato, eyeing the three of them warily.

Saburo and Yori shifted closer to protect Jack. The farmers shrank back into the corner as the tension between the four samurai increased.

‘No,’ said Jack.

Letting his sword hand relax, Hayato smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not seeking you out. In fact, we fought on the same side at the Battle of Osaka Castle. My father was
daimyo
Yukimura.’

Jack remembered the man. The samurai lord had been assassinated by ninja during an attack organized by the Shogun himself.

‘My father … he talked of you,’ revealed Hayato, a crack of emotion in his voice. ‘You saved his friend’s life, the great
daimyo
Takatomi. I admire any samurai who confronts a ninja, especially one as deadly as Dragon Eye.’

‘I was in the right place at the right time, that’s all,’ replied Jack.

‘You’re too humble,’ said Hayato. ‘I like that. I’d be proud to fight at your side against this bandit Akuma.’

Overcoming their fear, the farmers shuffled forward and bowed their gratitude. Even Toge’s mood seemed improved at the news and he signed impatiently to Neko to brew some fresh
sencha
.

As the four samurai sipped their tea, Jack admitted to Hayato, ‘We’ve struggled to find willing volunteers. Do you know anyone else who might join us?’

Putting down his cup, Hayato pondered this for a moment, then raised a single finger in the air. ‘One boy may be worth recruiting.’

14

YUUDAI

‘What do you think?’ asked Hayato, the following morning down by the docks.

Jack and the others were momentarily speechless. The young samurai in question was lugging
saké
barrels two at a time into a warehouse – other porters could barely manage one cask between two.

‘He’s the size of a mountain!’ gasped Yori, who didn’t even measure up to the boy’s hip.

Jack was equally astonished. This young samurai possessed a broad chest, legs like tree trunks and arms rippling with muscles. His hair, swept up into a topknot, was slick and black as tar, and his face seemed to be chiselled out of granite.

‘Yuudai is big for his age,’ granted Hayato. ‘But that’s what makes him such a formidable warrior.’

A stick-thin woman with narrow eyes and grey papery skin marched out of the warehouse.