The Way of the Warrior - Chris Bradford [72]
Saburo spotted his chance and shot out a foot, catching the back of Raiden’s legs, who tripped over and bounced off a sakura tree. The tree shuddered. The force of the impact dislodged a paper lantern that dropped straight on to Toru’s head.
Its flimsy frame split apart on impact and the little candle inside fell on to the boy’s greasy hair, which instantly caught light. Toru immediately released Akiko and Jack and began to leap around like a dancing bear. He flapped frenetically with his hands at his flaming crown, trying to extinguish the fire.
Saburo, Kiku and Yori broke into peals of laughter at the dancing Toru, but their joy was short-lived.
In the chaos, Raiden had regained his feet and now grabbed Saburo by his hair, winding up to punch him out. The incensed Toru, his head smoking like a chimney, now bore down on Akiko and Jack.
Their playtime over, the two Seto twins were determined to end the fight with the next strike.
‘YAME!’ boomed a voice with such unquestionable authority that even a passing group of drunken samurai halted in their tracks.
‘What in the name of Buddha is going on?’ demanded the voice.
Out of the darkness stepped Masamoto, his scarred face glowering. The retreating Yamato immediately went pale and bowed his head shamefully, while Kazuki and Nobu dropped to their knees in supplication.
‘Leave my students alone!’ Masamoto ordered and his hand shot out a nukite-uchi with lightning speed at Raiden’s neck.
Masamoto’s ‘spear hand thrust’ struck a hidden pressure point at the back of the neck and caused Raiden’s knees to buckle instantly. He collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Saburo, rubbing his head where a big clump of hair was missing, scurried over to Kiku and Yori. They then all bowed in deference to Masamoto.
‘Masamoto! Leave my students alone,’ commanded a second voice from behind Masamoto.
A samurai in a blue, yellow and gold kimono strode down the path. As he got closer, the lanterns illuminated his face. Jack immediately recognized him. It was the daimyo from the lacquered palanquin on the Tokaido Road, Kamakura Katsuro.
The man was a little shorter than Masamoto, but still he attempted to look down his nose at him. Kamakura had a cruel pointed face with a stringy moustache that flicked up from a tight mouth. He surveyed the scene with an air of arrogance, his eyes examining each of Masamoto’s students in a pitiless manner, as if they were vermin to be exterminated. Kamakura gave off an air of pomposity and self-righteousness. Jack thought of the old tea merchant who had been beheaded simply because he hadn’t bowed in time.
‘Maintain better control of your students or I will,’ replied Masamoto firmly. ‘It appears to me that you have a discipline problem in your school.’
‘We have no problem with discipline,’ said Kamakura haughtily, ‘but it seems your school has a problem with training. I have never seen such poor technique.’
‘There was nothing wrong with their technique! Akiko executed an outstanding ushiro-geri and I’d like to see any of your students deliver a mae-geri while being strangled!’
‘Masamoto, please. We are old comrades-in-arms,’ said Kamakura in a conciliatory yet devious tone. ‘This is not a matter to be settled in a public park. Let us do this in the proper tradition. I propose a Taryu-Jiai between our two schools.’
‘A Taryu-Jiai?’ repeated Masamoto, taken off-guard.
‘Those three,’ said Kamakura, indicating Jack, Akiko and Saburo with a dismissive wave of his hand, ‘against Raiden, Toru and one of my girl samurai, any of whom could outperform against the ushiro-geri girl!’
‘What disciplines do you propose?’ queried Masamoto, disregarding the insult directed at Akiko, but warming to the