The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [59]
The daimyo looked unimpressed. ‘You could easily have seen that when you were brought in.’
‘The blossom is in ivory!’
‘I still need convincing.’
‘But I’ve told you the design!’ Jack insisted as Kanesuke raised his sword and Hana began to scream.
‘Then tell me, gaijin, how many birds are in the tree?’ the daimyo demanded, a crafty smile upon his lips.
Jack wracked his brains, trying to remember. His mind had gone blank under the pressure. Hana’s scream faded into a pitiful whimper, her face turning deathly pale as Kanesuke adjusted his grip upon the sword, ready to do the deed.
‘Wait!’ cried Jack as the daimyo’s trick dawned on him. ‘There are none!’
Kanesuke looked to his lord for permission to cut off the hand, but daimyo Sanada’s smile disintegrated into a scowl. ‘Correct.’
Kanesuke, incensed by the disclosure, brought down the sword to chop Hana’s hand off anyway.
‘NO!’ ordered Sanada, glaring at his advisor. ‘The gaijin won the challenge. And it would appear he’s telling the truth about this inro.’
The man visibly shrank under the severe gaze of his master, returned the sword and shuffled, head bowed, to his former position. Hana clasped her hand to her chest with relief.
The daimyo toyed with the inro in his hand. ‘I’d willingly give this back to you, but you’ll have little use for it where you’re going.’ He passed the carrying case to another of his retainers. ‘So, we have your inro here and, of course, your swords … what about this book called a rutter?’
Jack’s mouth dropped open in shock. ‘You have it?’
The daimyo slowly shook his head. ‘I was hoping you did. The Shogun has requested its return.’
‘Return?’ Jack exclaimed. ‘But it’s mine. It belonged to my father.’
‘You lay claim to much, young samurai,’ said the daimyo. He walked over to a small wooden table, tutting in disappointment. ‘It’s most unfortuate you no longer have it. I’d have gained great favour with the Shogun for finding this rutter.’
Surprisingly, Jack discovered he was relieved to hear that the rutter had not been found. The Shogun was the last person he wanted to own it. That meant Botan might still have the logbook, unless he’d traded it … or thrown it away … or used it for tinder. With a death sentence hanging over his head, Jack realized he might never know.
Daimyo Sanada seemed lost in contemplation for a moment. He sat down at the table on which a set of black and white stone counters was arranged in a complex pattern across a square grid scored into the table’s surface. From a bowl he removed another small white stone and placed it down with a clack.
‘Have you played the game of Go before?’ he suddenly asked.
Jack shook his head.
‘How uncivilized your country must be!’ remarked daimyo Sanada. ‘Then it’s my duty to introduce you to Go before you die.’
Astounded, Jack couldn’t help himself. ‘As you intend to kill us, why on earth would I want to play any game with you?’
‘For your freedom?’ suggested daimyo Sanada to Jack’s utter disbelief. ‘In respect of the great service you showed daimyo Takatomi, I propose a game for you to win your life back.’
‘But I’ve no idea how to play,’ said Jack.
‘Oh, the rules are simple,’ said the lord, waving away his protest. Sanada looked to Ronin. ‘I assume you know the game.’
Ronin, tight-lipped since their arrival, gave a barely perceptible nod.
‘Good. Then I’ll give you the rest of the morning to teach the gaijin.’
‘You’re too kind,’ Ronin muttered.
‘But if I beat you,’ interjected Jack, ‘how can I trust your word?’
‘I’m an honourable man who plays by the rules and my word is my bond,’ replied the daimyo, offering an ingratiating smile.
Jack knew that was probably the best he’d get. ‘And what about my friends?’
The daimyo considered them for a moment, then threw up his hands. ‘Why not? I’m in a generous mood. You’ll all be released … if you win.’
Turning to Kanesuke, daimyo Sanada instructed, ‘Keep six guards on them at all times. They can use the game board by the tea house. You are responsible for them, but first I need to speak with you alone.’
As the daimyo and