Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (20 page)

‘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 perimeter 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.

But the unit stopped short outside a tea
house. With a nod from the commanding officer, two of his samurai strode inside and
dragged out the owner. Dumping him in the middle of the street, they set to beating him
with sticks. The dull
thud
of wood on flesh was unnaturally loud amid the
fearful silence of the onlookers. There was a harsh
crack
as a bone broke and
the man screamed in agony. A shrieking woman rushed out of the tea house and tried to
intervene, but she was kicked to the ground. Then she too was beaten unmercifully.

Jack was sickened by the savage violence
against two defenceless individuals. He felt compelled to intervene, but knew such a
move would be suicidal.

The beating stopped.

‘Let that be a lesson to
you … both,’ snarled the officer, before giving the order to march on,
the reason for the beating never declared.

The unit of samurai left the semi-conscious
man bleeding in the gutter and the woman sobbing beside him, one side of her face
cruelly puffed up. When the samurai were gone, the street returned to normal and
everyone went on
their way. But no one approached or helped the
battered couple.

‘We need to get out of here as soon as
we can,’ whispered Akiko. ‘This is an unforgiving place.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ said
Jack, hurriedly finishing his broth of
ramen
.

Leading the horse on foot, Akiko guided them
down the road. But the city was so overwhelming in its size, they soon lost their
bearings. Facing a bewildering number of streets and alleyways, Akiko stopped to ask an
old woman for directions to the harbour. With a polite bow, the woman gestured down the
road then said something Jack didn’t catch, before going on her way.

Akiko turned to Jack and Benkei, her
expression grim.

‘She says to follow this street until
we come to a bridge, cross the river then take the main road west.
But
there
are no ferries until tomorrow morning … and we’ll need travel
permits.’

33
 
 

‘So it’s the long way round to
Nagasaki, after all,’ said Jack, as they ducked down a side street to avoid
another unit of samurai marching by.

‘Not necessarily,’ said Benkei,
a crafty twinkle in his eye. ‘There are ways and means of getting permits,
especially in a city like this.’ He rubbed his fingers, making the gesture for
money. ‘We just need the means.’

‘Will this be enough?’ asked
Akiko, holding up a string of silver and copper coins.

Benkei grinned. ‘Definitely.
We’re good to sail!’

‘But what are we going to do until
then?’ asked Jack. ‘We can’t keep dodging patrols like
this.’

‘Certainly not after dark,’
Akiko agreed. ‘That will look even more suspicious. We must find an inn, one with
a stable.’

‘I know where to go,’ said
Benkei. ‘Follow me.’

With the plan agreed, they crossed the
bridge and took the main road west. Wooden slatted buildings crowded the street on
either side. They passed several well-to-do establishments with views over the Shira
River, but none of these met with Benkei’s approval. He turned down a side street,
and Jack and Akiko followed him into what appeared to be a less
prosperous area of the city. The inns along this stretch showed signs of wear and tear;
loose roof tiles held down with stones, crooked guttering, unrepaired rips in
shoji
doors. Empty
saké
bottles were piled high in crates, still
awaiting collection, and the signs above various businesses were chipped and
weather-beaten. The clientele hanging around outside and wandering through the streets
mirrored the rundown appearance of the neighbourhood. Their clothes were travel-worn,
their weapons more prominently displayed, and polite bows were replaced with hard stares
and hostile scowls.

Benkei stopped outside the shabbiest-looking
inn.

‘Here?’ exclaimed Akiko, turning
up her nose.

‘A place like this will ask fewer
questions,’ explained Benkei, ‘and be more likely to know where to acquire
permits.’

‘I suppose beggars can’t be
choosers,’ said Jack.

‘As long as the stable is
satisfactory,’ agreed Akiko, stroking her horse’s mane, ‘and
they’ve got a hot
ofuro
.’

Benkei pulled on the bell. It gave a dull
clang, its ringer broken. He banged on the door.

They waited a moment. Then the door slid
open a crack.

‘Yes?’ demanded a wrinkle-faced
man with hangdog eyes and a left ear that stuck out like a sail.

‘We need a room for the night,’
replied Benkei.

The innkeeper eyed the mismatched threesome
with suspicion: the elegant and well-armed girl samurai and her valuable white horse,
the spiky-haired and gangly lad in the rainbow-coloured kimono, and the mysterious
samurai retainer with a straw hat pulled too low over his face.

‘
One
room?’ he asked,
rubbing his bristled chin thoughtfully.

‘Two,’ corrected Akiko.
‘My retainers will share.’ She indicated her stallion. ‘I presume you
have a stable?’

The innkeeper grunted. ‘Out
back … but I may not have a vacancy.’

‘I think you
might
find
one,’ stated Benkei, glancing meaningfully at Akiko, who produced the string of
coins.

The innkeeper’s manner instantly
changed at the sight of the money. ‘I’ve just had a late cancellation. Go
round the back.’

Shutting the door in their faces, he was
then heard bawling, ‘
Momo, get up! We’ve guests
.’

‘That’s warm hospitality for
you,’ remarked Akiko as she led the stallion down the side alley.

The innkeeper opened up a gate and ushered
them into a rear courtyard.

‘Take your pick,’ he said,
pointing to three dilapidated stalls that were the inn’s excuse for a stable.

Akiko peered in, frowning in disgust at the
state of them.

‘At least the hay is fresh,’ she
muttered, tethering her horse in the first stall and removing his saddle.

‘Two
rooms … breakfast … plus stabling and hay … one
night …’ The innkeeper licked his lips as he counted off his fingers.
‘That’ll be ten
mon
. Payment in advance only.’ The innkeeper
bowed graciously and held out his hand.

‘
How much?
’ queried
Akiko, her face registering shock.

‘They are our two
best
rooms,’ he said, offering his most ingratiating smile. ‘And they guarantee
privacy
.’

The innkeeper glanced at Jack as he
emphasized the last
word – the clear implication being that his
silence did not come free.

With reluctance, Akiko handed over the ten
copper coins. ‘The
ofuro
had better be
hot
.’

‘
Momo!
’ shouted the
innkeeper over his shoulder. ‘Stoke up the fire.’

Pocketing the money, the innkeeper led them
inside. As they passed down the lamplit corridor, the warped wooden floorboards creaking
beneath their feet, Jack and Akiko exchanged doubtful looks at Benkei’s choice of
establishment. But to their surprise the rooms, though small, turned out to be clean
with
tatami
-matted floors, low wooden tables and pristine white
futons
neatly rolled in one corner. The
washi
paper walls were even decorated with
colourful screen paintings depicting hunts, festivals and theatre scenes.

‘As I said, our best rooms,’
remarked the innkeeper, noticing Akiko’s approval. He glanced at Jack, who now
looked even more conspicuous wearing his hat indoors. ‘May I take that for
you?’

Jack shook his head.

‘He was beaten in a duel and lost
face,’ cut in Akiko. ‘The shame of it!’

‘Ahhh … the famous samurai
pride,’ replied the innkeeper, accepting the answer but clearly not believing a
single word. ‘Perhaps I can get you some green tea instead?’

‘That would be nice,’ said
Akiko, taking off her sandals and entering her room.

‘
Momo! Green tea!
’
hollered the innkeeper. He bowed low, though less out of courtesy and more out of
curiosity to catch
a glimpse of Jack’s face. However, Jack bowed
quickly back and foiled his attempt.

‘Have a pleasant stay,’ said the
innkeeper as he shuffled off.

‘I’ll ask where to buy the
permits when he returns,’ said Benkei, stepping into their room and dumping their
supply bag.

Jack slipped off his pack too and rubbed his
shoulders. The journey that day had been long and tiring. He was looking forward to a
good night’s rest in a soft bed. Laying down his swords, he began to take off his
hat, when the
shoji
shot open.

‘Your tea!’ announced the
innkeeper, walking in and placing the tray on the table.

‘Thank you,’ acknowledged
Benkei. Without giving the innkeeper the chance to linger further, he asked, ‘May
I have a word?’

The innkeeper nodded and the two of them
left the room.

Once the door was closed and he was certain
the innkeeper had gone, Jack removed his hat and relaxed. Pouring himself some tea, he
sat down and, with nothing else to do, gazed at the screen painting in his room. It
portrayed a vibrant theatre scene with men and women dancing upon a stage. One panel was
devoted to a lithe woman singing and playing a thirteen-string
koto
. The figure
was almost full-size and exquisitely painted, the work so lifelike the woman’s
eyes appeared to be staring right at him.