The Way of the Dragon Read online

  Nobu looked at Jack’s tiny weapon and then at his own massive club.

  ‘What are you going to do? Fan me to death?’ he said, giving a great belly laugh.

  As he lifted the club for another strike, Jack flicked the fan shut and drove its reinforced spine into Nobu’s gut. Winded, Nobu dropped the kanabō. It crashed to the ground. With lightning speed, Jack struck a second time, catching Nobu across the temple. The boy flopped to the floor, groaning and unable to stand.

  Jack stepped away, breathing hard. His throat throbbed, his head pounded and his body ached from all the bruises.

  But the fight was far from over.

  35

  YOSHIOKA RYŪ

  Only zanshin saved Jack’s life.

  Sensing an attack from behind, Jack ducked. The katana blade whistled through the air, barely missing his head. Kazuki swore in frustration and followed up with his wakizashi. With no time to evade the short sword, Jack turned on the spot, blocking the thrust to his stomach with the iron spine of the tessen. He deflected the strike, but lost his grip on the fan and it went clattering to the floor.

  Kazuki came at Jack again. Jack dived out of the way, rolling across the dojo. Without a weapon, he had little hope of defending himself against two swords. He could see his own katana and wakizashi lying tantalizingly on the far side of Kazuki, but every time he tried to run for them his rival blocked the way.

  Jack feigned a desperate rush for his swords. Kazuki jumped in his path. At the last second Jack switched directions, sprinting for the Weapons Wall instead. He seized the only remaining katana. Jack didn’t even have time to unsheath the sword before Kazuki’s blade cut at his neck.

  Jack blocked the strike, the saya of his katana shattering on impact. Shaking off the remains of the scabbard, he hurriedly retreated and raised his weapon. The sword didn’t compare to Masamoto’s. It was heavy, unbalanced, its blade chipped and the handle worn smooth from constant training practice.

  Kazuki noticed the uncertainty in Jack’s stance and attacked. A whirlwind of blades sliced through the air. Jack tried to defend himself, but his second-rate weapon put him at a disadvantage. He deflected a thrust to the stomach and countered with a strike to the neck, but Kazuki easily evaded the blade. Stepping off to one side, he smashed his sword on top of Jack’s, snapping off the tip of the battleworn blade. Jack stared at his broken weapon in shock.

  Kazuki drove forward, shoulder-barging Jack into a nearby pillar. Jack crumpled against it as Kazuki’s katana came round in a great arc to cut him in half. In desperation, Jack swung his own sword across and the two weapons clashed and locked. Jack tried to disengage, but as he pulled away Kazuki executed a perfect Autumn Leaf strike, disarming Jack of his katana.

  ‘Defeated yet again!’ gloated Kazuki, placing the sword’s kissaki to Jack’s neck. ‘On your knees, gaijin!’

  With no alternative, Jack did as he was told. It appeared that Kazuki was going to force him to commit seppuku. The thought terrified him. How could anyone slit open their own stomach?

  Kazuki looked over at Hiroto, still screaming in the corner.

  ‘Will you be quiet! You’re not dying. It’s only blood.’ Kazuki shook his head in irritation. ‘Nobu, over here.’

  Nobu sat up, rubbing his head. When he saw Jack on his knees, defeated with Kazuki’s blade to his throat, his face lit up with glee.

  Kazuki studied Jack a moment, seeming to be in two minds whether to kill him or not.

  ‘You’re not samurai. Gaijin don’t deserve to die honourably by the sword,’ he sneered, drawing the blade away and flicking the kissaki across Jack’s right cheek. Jack grimaced as a thin line of blood oozed to the surface. ‘That should even up your scars, for a start.’

  Nobu lumbered over, the kanabō on his shoulder, and awaited Kazuki’s command.

  Sheathing his swords, Kazuki grabbed Jack by the throat.

  ‘You killed Moriko!’ he said, a tremor seizing his voice. ‘You will suffer for it.’

  ‘I didn’t –’ protested Jack, but Kazuki cut him off.

  ‘Nobu, break his legs. We don’t want him getting away this time. I want the gaijin to burn, just as she did.’

  Nobu obediently raised the kanabō to shatter Jack’s ankles.

  ‘Stop!’ said a timid voice from the doorway.

  Yori ran in, his sword drawn.

  ‘If you hurt Jack, I’ll kill Kazuki,’ he threatened, pointing his sword at Kazuki’s heart. Despite the courage of his words, Yori’s sword arm trembled.

  ‘Nobu, do what he says,’ said Kazuki, bowing his head in defeat.

  Nobu, his podgy face wrinkling in bemusement, was about to lower his club when Kazuki struck. With lightning speed, he withdrew his katana and knocked Yori’s sword to the ground.

  ‘Yet again, your little bodyguard fails you, gaijin,’ sneered Kazuki, poking Yori in the chest with his finger. ‘Go on, Yori, run away like you always do.’

  Yori stood there, his lip trembling. He sobbed in great gulps of air and looked like he was about to cry.

  Kazuki walked away, laughing coldly. ‘Nobu, after you snap the gaijin’s legs, crush the mouse.’

  Grinning, Nobu raised the kanabō above his head.

  All of a sudden, an ear-splitting kiai filled the Butokuden.

  ‘YAH!’

  Nobu staggered backwards, a confused expression on his face. All his strength evaporated and he dropped the kanabō on his head. Lurching like a Daruma Doll, he crumpled to the floor again, this time unconscious.

  Kazuki spun round, his eyes wide with shock. Drawing his swords, he charged at his enemy.

  ‘YAH!’

  Kazuki stopped in his tracks. He tried to lift his katana again.

  ‘YAH!’

  Kazuki dropped to his knees, his face ashen, groaning as if a spear had been thrust through his body.

  ‘No more! You’ll kill him,’ shouted Jack.

  Yori, his lungs full for another attack, slowly released his breath. Jack got to his feet and retrieved his swords.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, seeing Yori shuddering.

  Yori blinked, as if awoken from a trance, and nodded weakly. In a tiny voice he replied, ‘I couldn’t fail you again.’

  ‘And you didn’t,’ said Jack, putting his arm round Yori. ‘I guess Sensei Yamada was right, even the smallest breeze can make ripples on the largest ocean.’

  Jack indicated the immense Nobu out cold on the floor and they both laughed from a combination of exhaustion and relief. But they stopped when they noticed Kazuki had managed to stagger to the doorway.

  Leaving Hiroto still groaning in the corner and Nobu unconscious, Yori and Jack hurried after Kazuki. By the time they reached the door, the traitor had disappeared among the chaos of battle.

  A huge cry sounded as a fresh wave of young samurai poured in through the Niten Ichi Ryū gates.

  At the head of the column was Yoshioka.

  Masamoto rallied his students together in front of the Southern Zen Garden, each group led by a sensei. Jack and Yori ran over and joined the ranks to face their new enemy from the Yoshioka Ryū. Tired, battleworn and vastly outnumbered, Jack realized there was little hope for them now.

  ‘We’ll fight to the last samurai standing!’ shouted Sensei Kyuzo, raising his katana.

  The Niten Ichi Ryū bellowed in response, firing up their courage for the final assault.

  The Yagyu Ryū, confident of victory, roared back. But the students of the Yoshioka Ryū didn’t join in the battle cry. Instead, they unsheathed their swords and attacked the students and sensei of the Yagyu Ryū.

  Suddenly the invaders were on the defensive and being driven back. The tide of battle had turned.

  Their advantage lost, the Yagyu Ryū beat a hasty retreat.

  The Niten Ichi Ryū cheered their unexpected allies and joined in routing the enemy. Soon the courtyard was cleared and the gates closed against further attacks.

  Jack and the others lowered their swords
with relief, glad to have survived the raid.

  But the cost of victory had been high. Sensei and young samurai of both schools lay bleeding and dying in the courtyard, while all around the Niten Ichi Ryū continued to burn.

  36

  AFTERMATH

  The dawn sun bled through the smoke-laden sky, staining the clouds a watery red. A solemn silence hung over the Niten Ichi Ryū as the survivors tended to the wounded and salvaged what they could from the burnt-out buildings.

  Jack kicked aside the smouldering ruins that had been the Shishi-no-ma. His room had been completely destroyed, his bokken, bonsai and clothes ravaged by the fire. For once he was glad Dragon Eye had the rutter. It would have been burnt to a cinder otherwise. But now he possessed nothing save the kimono on his back and Masamoto’s daishō.

  Crouching down, he spotted a charred scrap of paper buried in the ash. Pulling it free from the blackened inro case, he held the remains of a child’s drawing. His sister’s scribble of their family. The picture had been obliterated. Jack let the scrap fall back into the dying embers.

  He could no longer hold out hope of returning home to Jess. Not when a war threatened to consume Japan. It wasn’t just the fact that battles would bar his way. The Niten Ichi Ryū had been attacked and, having vowed to follow the Way of the Warrior, it was his duty to defend his school’s honour. Bound by the code of bushido, his loyalty to Masamoto and his friends had to take priority over his long-held dream of going home.

  The inro that had contained the picture was all but destroyed. Tossing the case aside, he heard a rattle as it landed. Picking it up again, he found Akiko’s pearl inside. Miraculously, it had survived the fire. Allowing himself a weary smile, he slipped the precious gift inside the folds of his obi. It would serve as a reminder of everything that was good about Japan and why he must fight to protect it.

  He was about to return to his friends, when he noticed a glint of steel. Brushing aside the ash, he uncovered the tantō he’d taken from the ninja in the bamboo forest. The lacquered saya had cracked under the heat, but the knife itself was undamaged. In fact, the fire seemed only to have further tempered the steel, for Jack’s little finger was dripping blood. He must have cut it while clearing away the embers. Very carefully, Jack tucked the demon blade into his belt.

  ‘Jack!’ called Yori, scurrying over.

  Rising slowly to his feet, Jack greeted his friend. He felt sore all over, his muscles bruised and battered and his neck aching from his near-hanging experience. But he was one of the fortunate ones. At least he could walk.

  Yori, his face streaked black with smoke and dried tears, handed him a small round bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth.

  ‘This is yours,’ he said proudly.

  Opening it, Jack found himself staring at his Daruma Doll. ‘It was lying on top of the kimono I used to collect the weapons,’ Yori explained. ‘I know the wish it contains means a lot to you, so I rescued it along with your swords.’

  ‘Thank you,’ replied Jack, patting his friend on the shoulder. ‘But I don’t think this Daruma Doll works. It’s been nearly three years since I made that wish.’

  ‘Daruma wishes do come true. You can’t give up hope, Jack.’

  Yori’s pleading eyes looked up at him. Jack realized his friend was barely holding himself together. The sudden attack and the brutality of the fighting had left him shocked and on the verge of falling apart. Yori was looking to Jack for reassurance.

  ‘We survived, didn’t we?’ replied Jack, smiling. ‘And it was your loyalty that saved me. My mother used to say, “Where there are friends, there’s hope.” You’re a true friend, Yori.’

  Touched by his words, Yori bowed his head. ‘It’s my honour.’

  Crossing the courtyard, they passed a group of Yagyu students guarded by samurai from the Yoshioka Ryū. Patched up but looking thoroughly defeated, Nobu and Hiroto were among the prisoners, their heads hung in shame. Jack noticed Kazuki was not with them, the traitor having escaped amid the confusion of battle. News of his defection had spread rapidly among the students. Masamoto had been furious to discover the truth of Kazuki’s father’s treachery. Vowing to punish Oda-san, he’d sent a patrol in search of his son. But so far Kazuki had evaded capture.

  Beside the main gate, the bodies of the fallen had been gathered for cremation at various temples. Akiko stood nearby.

  ‘You go on, I’ll join you shortly,’ said Jack to Yori.

  His friend nodded in understanding and headed inside the Chō-no-ma.

  As Jack approached Akiko, she looked up, her eyes red from crying.

  ‘I may not have liked her, but she didn’t deserve to die like this.’

  Akiko gazed down at the lifeless Moriko.

  ‘It was all my fault,’ she sniffed, her voice cracking slightly.

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ Jack insisted, trying not to look at the charred corpse. ‘You didn’t know the building was about to collapse. Besides, if you hadn’t knocked her out with your jindou, she would have killed us both.’

  ‘But is this what war really means?’ asked Akiko, waving a despairing hand at the pile of dead bodies. ‘None of our training prepared us for this.’

  Jack understood what she meant. They’d been so focused on the training, they’d never really thought about the consequences – of actually taking a person’s life. But the onset of war had forced them into using their skills. From this day forth, they would have to face up to their responsibilities as samurai.

  ‘You told me once that being a samurai means “to serve”,’ said Jack. ‘That our duty is to our Emperor, our daimyo and our family. I didn’t understand at the time, but I now know what duty means. As samurai, we may have to kill, or be killed, if we want to protect those we serve and love.’

  ‘You’re right, Jack,’ sighed Akiko. ‘It doesn’t make it any easier, though.’

  ‘No, but it’s a peace worth fighting for.’

  And with those words, Jack realized he’d willingly lay down his life for Japan and those he loved.

  * * *

  Inside the Chō-no-ma, injured young samurai lay upon the cleared tables, Sensei Yamada and Sensei Kano administering to their wounds. The other teachers were in conference with Masamoto and Yoshioka in the Hall of the Phoenix.

  ‘Wait till our parents hear about this!’ exclaimed Taro as Jack and Akiko approached their friends.

  Taro stood over his brother. Saburo was laid out on a table, his shoulder bound in bandages, a patch of blood oozing through.

  ‘Leave him alone, Taro,’ said Jack, rushing to Saburo’s defence. ‘He’s been through enough as it is.’

  ‘Jack, you misunderstand me. He’ll be a hero in their eyes. Saburo sacrificed himself for another samurai.’

  Saburo grinned proudly, ‘And I’ll have a real battle scar!’

  ‘You need to rest,’ insisted Kiku, helping him sip some water and wiping his brow.

  ‘Has anyone found out what’s going on yet?’ said Yori.

  Yamato nodded. ‘A student from the Yoshioka Ryū told me there have been surprise attacks all over the city. Daimyo Kamakura has begun his rebellion.’

  ‘But why did the Yoshioka Ryū help us?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Yoshioka-san is a loyal subject of daimyo Takatomi,’ explained Taro with an air of authority. ‘His duty to his lord outweighs any personal grievance against Masamoto-sama. He was most likely commanded to come to our aid. Besides, by rescuing us, Yoshioka-san has regained the status he lost in his duels with Masamoto-sama.’

  The shoji by the head table flew open and Masamoto strode in, flanked by his sensei. All the students stopped what they were doing and knelt down. Masamoto took his place in the centre of the dais, put his swords to one side and fixed his students with a stern gaze. The scarring down his face throbbed an angry red and there was a vicious cut above his right eye. Sensei Hosokawa was beside him, a tourniquet wrapped round his left bicep. A tense silence fell over the hall.

  ‘WAR has been
declared,’ stated Masamoto.

  Still in shock from the battle, the students could only stare back in numb horror. Yori glanced nervously at Jack. His worst fear had come true.

  ‘No longer is daimyo Kamakura targeting just foreigners and Christians. He is attacking any daimyo and their samurai who will not submit to his rule, whether they are sympathetic to foreigners or not. We believe daimyo Kamakura has organized coordinated strikes across Japan. The city of Nagoya has fallen, the Tokaido Road to its north is in his control and his army is marching south as we speak.

  ‘We’ve received word that samurai loyal to the Council and Hasegawa Satoshi, our ruler-in-waiting, are combining forces at Osaka Castle. From there, they intend to face down and destroy this enemy of the Emperor. By the order of daimyo Takatomi, we leave for Osaka today.’

  It was midday by the time all the preparations were complete. Horses were saddled, supplies were gathered and samurai armed. Not all the Niten Ichi Ryū students were going. The younger trainees were being sent back to their families, while the wounded would remain at the school until fit to fight. Those destined for battle now stood in formation in the courtyard, awaiting the command to leave.

  ‘Gambette,’ said Saburo, wishing them luck. Despite Kiku’s protests, he’d insisted on coming to say goodbye to his friends. He bowed stiffly.

  Kiku, who’d volunteered to stay behind to look after the wounded, wiped a tear from her eye and bowed too. Akiko, Yamato and Yori returned the bow. Saburo glanced over at Jack, then pulled him into an awkward hug. Wincing from the pain in his shoulder, Saburo blurted, ‘Keep your head down. Don’t do anything stupid. Watch out for ninja. Make sure you eat all your rations –’

  ‘I’ll miss you too, Saburo,’ said Jack sincerely. Then, with a grin, ‘I’ll have no one to take an arrow for me now!’

  Saburo laughed. Then he pulled away, the smile on his face fading into sorrow. ‘Take great care, my friend.’