Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (40 page)

‘I hear you’ve learnt a new
trick or two with your swords,’ remarked Masamoto as the two of them made their
way through the partying crowd. ‘A
reverse
grip?’

By the tone of his voice, Jack wasn’t
certain whether his guardian approved of him modifying the Two Heavens. Bowing
respectfully, he held out his hand to show the missing fingertip.

‘I was forced to make a few changes to
my technique,’ Jack explained in his defence.

Masamoto smiled, a rare occurrence as only
one side of his face reacted to the expression. ‘You must teach me the
grip,’ he said.

Jack’s jaw dropped open at the
suggestion.
What could
he
teach the greatest swordsman in Japan about
combat?

Noting Jack’s stunned expression,
Masamoto continued, ‘No sensei ever stops being a student, Jack-kun. If a sword
style doesn’t evolve, then it becomes redundant and dies. As you know, the essence
of the Two Heavens is the
spirit of winning
. And in order to accomplish this,
the style must constantly adapt and overcome each and every situation.’ He glanced
at Jack’s injured hand. ‘Which I see you have done. Sensei Kyuzo sends his
apologies for his grave mistake in carrying out
yubitsume
.’

Jack studied his little finger.
‘It’s a little late for apologies,’ he replied.

‘It’s a bit late for many
things,’ said Masamoto with a heavy sigh. ‘The past is behind us, so we must
learn from it. And
Sensei Kyuzo won’t
ever
make such a
misjudgement again. He’s committed
seppuku
.’

Jack turned to his guardian in shock. He
knew the two were firm friends and saw a deep seam of sadness in Masamoto’s eyes.
‘But why?’

‘Out of shame for his
actions.’

Jack suddenly felt a wave of guilt.
He
was the reason Sensei Kyuzo had killed himself. Although he understood
that such an act of ritual suicide by a samurai was considered to wipe away all previous
transgressions and restore their honour, it didn’t make him feel any better.

‘I’m sorry …’

‘Why should you be?’ said
Masamoto firmly. ‘He volunteered. It was the right thing to do.’

Jack bowed his head in respect. ‘Then
I accept his apology and will remember Sensei Kyuzo for his courage in the Battle of
Osaka Castle.’

Masamoto nodded with approval.
‘I’m proud to call you my son, Jack-kun. At the
Niten Ichi Ryū
, I
taught you all you need to live this life. And you’ve proven you can apply those
skills not only for your own sake, but for the benefit of others too.
Bushido
is in your blood. You are a true samurai.’

67
 
 

Peals of temple bells filled the night air
as the harbour side swelled with revellers. Many were gathered beside a wooden tower
built near the water’s edge for the festival. On top of the main platform, a group
of musicians and singers were performing a jaunty song.
Shamisens
twanged
loudly and
tsuzumi
drums beat out the rhythm as three girls sang a soaring
melody to the crowd. A circle of people danced a series of choreographed moves in unison
around the base. Leading the dance were Okuni and her
kabuki
troupe.
They’d arrived the previous night and their shows had been a great hit with the
locals. The young girls now swayed and twirled to the music. In their hands, they
flourished bright red fans that fluttered like a flock of birds through the night.

Jack spotted Benkei at the front of the
admiring crowd, his eyes transfixed upon Junjun. He’d been as delighted as Junjun
at their reunion. Nearby, Saburo was tucking into a slice of watermelon and licking his
lips contentedly. Yori was tapping his staff to the beat of the music, while Akiko was
browsing a street stall selling a colourful array of paper lanterns. With his friends no
longer deemed traitors to Japan, they were all at ease and enjoying the celebrations to
the full.

‘You should join them,’ Masamoto
urged Jack. ‘If I learnt anything during my exile, it’s that friends and
family are what matter most in life. Treasure the moments you have left here.’

Jack bowed graciously to his guardian.
‘You
are
my family.’

Masamoto laid a hand upon Jack’s
shoulder with firm affection. For a moment, the great warrior seemed choked with
emotion. Then, with a nod of the head, he sent Jack on his way.

Jack headed across the harbour, aware of his
guardian watching him all the way. As he walked towards his friends, a hatted figure
slipped from the crowd and matched his stride. Jack’s hand instinctively reached
for his sword, but he relaxed when he saw the face. ‘
We
made the rain
fall, didn’t we?’

The ninja smiled enigmatically.
‘Tropical storms are common this time of year.’

Jack knew he’d get no more from
Zenjubo, the ninja characteristically terse. Yet he was surprised to see one of
Miyuki’s clan in Nagasaki at all. ‘What are you doing this far
south?’

‘Searching for you, and recovering the
fallen.’

‘You
mean … Miyuki.’

Zenjubo nodded. ‘That was some battle
by the looks of it. She defeated ten samurai before succumbing to her wounds.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Jack,
his heart heavy with grief and guilt. ‘I should have done more to save
her.’

‘Don’t be,’ replied
Zenjubo. ‘She died a ninja’s death. Feel only pride at her
valour.’

He palmed an object into Jack’s hand.
‘Miyuki would want you to have this.’

Jack opened his hand to find one of her
silver throwing stars. The steel gleamed like a jewel in his palm, and he felt a
lump form in his throat as the tragic loss of Miyuki was brought home
to him once more.

‘Thank you,’ he managed to
reply. But, when he looked up again, Zenjubo was gone.

Wiping away a tear with the back of his
hand, Jack tucked the precious
shuriken
into his
obi
and joined Akiko,
Saburo and Yori at the water’s edge.

‘You look sad,’ said Saburo.
‘This should be a time for a celebration. We’re
all
free!’

‘I was thinking of Miyuki,’
replied Jack, attempting and failing to manage a smile.

Yori bowed his head in respect and
recited:

Jack was almost overwhelmed with emotion
when he heard Yori’s dedication to their lost friend, and Akiko gently took his
hand in comfort.

‘Like Yamato, Miyuki made the ultimate
sacrifice for us,’ said Akiko, passing Jack a paper lantern set upon a wooden
float. ‘We should honour her.’

Jack studied the lantern where Akiko had
inked two
kanji
characters:

Beautiful Snow
. The meaning behind
Miyuki’s name.

‘The
Bon
Festival ends with
Toro Nagashi
,’ explained Akiko,
indicating the
crowds gathering around the moonlit bay. ‘Lanterns are floated down rivers and out
to sea to guide the spirits back to their own world. And Miyuki deserves a light of her
own, one that burns bright.’

Jack nodded, touched by Akiko’s
thoughtfulness. Taking a smouldering taper from Saburo, he lit the candle inside. And
with a silent heartfelt prayer he placed the lantern upon the water and pushed it out
into the harbour. Then he lit a second lantern for his father, while Akiko launched one
in memory of Yamato.

The four friends stood in silence, side by
side, and watched the three flickering lights bob across the bay to join the growing
stream of lanterns that slowly and peacefully floated out into the distant sea. An
endless line of candlelit spirits, gone but never to be forgotten.

68
 
 

The
Hosiander
sat low in the
water, its hold packed to the gunwales with the finest silks, silverware and several
tonnes of supplies for the long voyage ahead. While her crew made the last checks to the
sails and rigging, Captain Spilbergen completed the necessary formalities with the
bugyō
of Nagasaki.

Jack stood on the dockside with his friends,
bathed in the golden glow of the rising sun. They’d gathered for a final farewell,
but no one wanted to begin the goodbyes. After four years of training, fighting and
surviving together, the idea that their paths were to separate forever was as
unimaginable as it was heart-rending.

‘You’re welcome to stay as much
as you’re free to go,’ Masamoto declared to Jack. ‘The Regent has
bestowed you with the rank of
hatamoto
. This guarantees your safety throughout
Japan. And now you’re of age, Jack-kun, as a samurai in the service of the Regent,
you’ll receive an income and some land. Your future here is assured.’

But Jack had already made his decision.

‘I appreciate the honour, but I must
go home,’ he replied. ‘With my father dead, my sister needs my
protection.’

Masamoto bowed his head, as much to
acknowledge Jack’s duty as to conceal the sadness at his adopted son’s
departure. ‘Then this is my last lesson to you, Jack-kun.
Saya no uchi de
katsu
– victory in the scabbard of the sword.’

Jack looked down at his
katana
,
bemused.

‘During my exile, I was enlightened
that the ultimate Way of the Warrior is to achieve victory without fighting,’
explained Masamoto. ‘To win a conflict without unsheathing the sword.’

‘Even though you could take down your
opponent with one cut?’ said Jack, surprised that such a benign philosophy was
being proposed by a swordmaster.

‘Absolutely. That is why I let Kazuki
live,’ replied Masamoto. ‘True victory lies in forgiveness and
understanding.’

Jack bowed deeply to his guardian, the
lesson both understood and recognized to be Masamoto’s official goodbye to
him.

Saburo was next in line. His friend started
to bow, then throwing all Japanese decorum aside, he opened his arms and embraced Jack
in a bear hug.

‘Take care, my friend,’ he said,
the words catching in his throat. ‘And if you ever find yourself in the Pacific
again, make sure you stop by. My-my-my …’

‘Hey, no tears, big boy!’ cried
Benkei. ‘This is a happy time. Jack’s going home at last.’

Wiping his eyes and sniffing, Saburo let go
of Jack. ‘Not much of a fearless warrior, am I?’

‘Saburo, you’re the bravest and
most loyal samurai I know,’ said Jack earnestly. ‘Your father will be proud
of you.’

‘I really hope so. I’ve done
enough courageous deeds on this
musha shugyō
to last me a lifetime!’

Reluctantly parting from Saburo, Jack bowed
his gratitude to Benkei. ‘Without your guidance and scheming, I’d never have
made it to Nagasaki.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine!’
exclaimed Benkei with a grin. ‘Boiled, stabbed, punched and almost burned alive.
We must do it again some time!’