The Way of the Warrior - Chris Bradford [20]
After dinner, Akiko led Jack out on to the veranda, where they sat on plump cushions in the fading evening sunlight. A silence had settled over the village like a soft blanket and Jack could hear the tentative chirps of crickets and the trickle of the stream as it wound itself through Ueyika’s immaculate garden.
Akiko sat absorbing the peace and, for the first time in days, Jack allowed his guard to drop.
Then he noticed Taka-san standing silently in the shadows, his hand resting upon his sword. Jack instantly tensed. They were taking no chances; he was being watched now.
A shoji slid open and Chiro brought out a lacquered tray with a beautifully embellished pot and two small cups. She laid the tray on the floor and carefully measured out some hot green-coloured water. The liquid reminded Jack of ‘tea’, the fashionable new drink Dutch traders had begun importing into Holland from China.
With both hands, she passed a cup to Akiko, who then offered it to Jack.
Jack took the cup and waited for Akiko to pick up hers, but she signed for him to drink first. He hesitantly sipped at the steaming brew. It tasted like boiled grass and he had to force back a grimace at its bitterness. Akiko then drank from her own cup. A look of quiet contentment spread across her face.
After several moments of silence, Jack plucked up the courage to speak.
Pointing to the green tea she evidently enjoyed so much, he said, ‘What is this drink called?’
There was a brief pause as Akiko attempted to understand his question before replying ‘Sencha.’
‘Sen-cha,’ repeated Jack, feeling the word in his mouth and working it into his memory. He realized he would have to acquire a taste for sencha in the future. ‘And this?’ he said, indicating the cup.
‘Chawan,’ she replied.
‘Chawan,’ copied Jack.
Akiko quietly applauded and then began pointing at other objects, giving Jack their Japanese names. She seemed pleased to teach him her language and Jack was relieved, since this was the first time that anyone had attempted to properly communicate with him. Jack continued to press for new words until his head was overflowing with them and it was time to go to bed.
Taka-san led him back to his room, closing the shoji door behind Jack.
Jack settled down on his futon, but he couldn’t sleep. His head whirled with Japanese words and turbulent emotions. As he lay there in the darkness, looking at the soft glow of the night lanterns through the walls, he allowed a sliver of hope to enter his heart. If he could learn the language, then perhaps he could survive in this strange land. Maybe gain work with a Japanese crew, get to a port where his fellow countrymen were and, from there, work his way back to England. Perhaps Akiko was the key. Maybe she could help him get home!
A shadow shifted on the other side of the paper wall and Jack realized Taka-san still stood outside, guarding him.
Jack was completing his early morning walk in the garden the following day, when Jiro came flying round the corner of the veranda.
‘Kinasai!’ he shouted, dragging Jack to the front entrance of the house.
Jack could barely keep up.
Outside, Akiko and Taka-san were waiting. Akiko wore a shimmering ivory kimono, embroidered with the image of a crane in flight. She held a crimson-coloured parasol over her head to keep off the sun.
‘Ohayō gozaimasu, Jack,’ she said, bowing.
‘Ohayō gozaimasu, Akiko,’ echoed Jack, wishing her a good morning.
She seemed pleased at his response and they set off down the dirt track towards the harbour.
At the jetty, they climbed into the boat of Akiko’s pearl fisherman, who rowed them across to the island in the middle of the harbour. As they drew closer, Jack was astonished to see a huge crowd had gathered along a wide stretch of the beach in front of the red wooden gateway.
‘Ise Jingu Torii,’ Akiko said, pointing at the structure.
Jack nodded his understanding. The torii was the colour of evening fire and the height of a double-storey