The Ring of Earth - Chris Bradford [14]
The four of them gawped at Jack in amazement.
‘I caught him,’ Hanzo explained. ‘And now he’s set me a test to defeat the sword.’
‘That’s easy,’ scoffed Kobei, keen to impress the tengu.
Suddenly the challenge was on. Jack was taken aback by the children’s enthusiasm as all four grabbed a piece of bamboo and held it out like Hanzo.
Just then a young farmer approached. Strong and tanned from working in the fields, he looked tougher than many samurai. Jack judged him to be about seventeen. He had a broad handsome face with eyes brown as the earth. Discovering the children standing like statues, their faces screwed up with the effort of holding their bamboo swords, he shot Jack a questioning glance but made no comment.
‘Hanzo!’ called the farmer. ‘Soke said to bring your guest to Shonin.’
‘Yes, Tenzen,’ replied the boy, hurriedly putting down his makeshift weapon.
‘You lose!’ said Kobei.
‘I’ll beat you all later,’ shot back Hanzo.
Jack got to his feet and bowed. The farmer inclined his head respectfully.
As they made their way through the paddy fields, Jack’s curiosity finally got the better of him. ‘Who is Shonin?’ he asked.
‘Not who, but what,’ replied Tenzen civilly. ‘Shonin means the head of the village and is how you should address the leader of our clan. He’s also my father.’
Walking up a rise and passing through a tall wooden gate, they entered the main square. In one corner was a set of stables. Several children were playing on the horse rail outside, attempting to walk along its beam without falling. Beyond the fence was the pond, where a group of lads were swimming, diving and play-fighting.
The villagers in the square gazed in wonder at Jack, many bowing at his approach. Jack returned the courtesy. It appeared the anti-foreign prejudice afflicting the rest of Japan had not yet reached this community. Even so, Jack overheard uneasy murmurings among the crowd about a samurai being in their village. It seemed his status was more of an issue than his race.
Tenzen led Jack over to the farmhouse. The building was far grander than Soke’s and more akin to a samurai’s dwelling. It had a raised veranda and shuttered windows, and was at least double the size of any other home in the village. Two men greeted Tenzen at the door and let them through. Slipping off their sandals, the three of them walked down a polished wooden corridor, passing two rooms to a set of double shoji doors at the far end. As they drew nearer, Jack could hear a heated conversation going on.
‘Do you really think it’s appropriate to have brought a samurai here?’
‘We could learn many things to our advantage,’ replied a voice Jack recognized as Soke’s. ‘Besides, I sense the boy has a good heart.’
‘You said that last time about an outsider and we all know what happened. What if he were to draw a patrol to this valley? Need I remind you that daimyo Akechi still seeks to destroy our village?’
‘I realize it’s a risk, but the boy’s as much an outsider as we are. Meet him and judge for yourselves.’
The doors to the room opened and Jack was ushered inside.
8
SHONIN
The reception room was large, carpeted with finely woven tatami mats and a raised wooden dais at the far end. To Jack’s right was another set of shoji and on the wall behind the dais hung an ink painting of a kingfisher perched over a river.
Three men sat upon the raised floor, observing Jack’s entrance.
‘I thought you said he was samurai,’ whispered the man in the middle. Pudgy, with a generous double chin, drooping moustache and balding head, he reminded Jack of a walrus. As first impressions went, he seemed an odd choice for a Shonin and bore little resemblance to his lean, muscular son. But as this was a farming community, Jack presumed they didn’t require a toughened warrior as their leader. Or a tactful one, it seemed.
‘The boy trained at the Niten Ichi Ryū,’ replied Soke, who sat to the man’s left.
‘But he’s foreign,’ the pudgy man remarked as Jack approached.
‘He’s still samurai.