The Way of the Warrior - Chris Bradford [96]
‘I don’t have a home. You killed my father. Remember?’ said Jack, outraged. ‘Was my father a mission too?’
‘Your father was nothing. The rutter was my mission!’
Jack stared in disbelief at the ninja. ‘Who’s ordering these missions?’
‘You won’t give up, will you?’ hissed Dragon Eye in irritation. ‘Let’s hope you still live without your sword arm!’
Dragon Eye raised his ninjatō and brought it down to sever Jack’s right arm.
Out of the night like a shooting star, Akiko’s wakizashi spun through the air towards Dokugan Ryu. At the last second, the ninja twisted on instinct, the arc of his sword shifting and missing Jack’s shoulder by a hair’s breadth. The wakizashi pierced Dragon Eye’s side and, though the blade cut deep, he barely made a sound. Staggering slightly, the ninja glanced absently at the weapon protruding from him.
‘Who did you learn that from? Masamoto?’ he spat in disgust at Akiko as she appeared by Jack’s side.
The ninja carefully removed the bloody blade, glaring at them in defiance. He then flipped the short sword over in his hand and was about to throw it back at the now defenceless Akiko, when the main gate burst open and Masamoto and his samurai dashed into the courtyard bearing flaming torches.
‘Spread out!’ ordered Masamoto. ‘Find them, and kill the ninja!’
‘Another time, gaijin!’ hissed Dragon Eye. ‘The rutter is not forgotten.’
The ninja dropped the wakizashi, and scaled the castle wall like a malevolent four-legged spider, disappearing into the night.
In the distance, fireworks exploded and brightly coloured sparks reigned down like a meteor shower in the night sky.
43
KENDO – THE WAY OF THE SWORD
‘We believe Dokugan Ryu was sent to poison daimyo Takatomi,’ explained Masamoto the following night in the Hō-oh-no-ma, the Hall of the Phoenix.
He sat upon his dais, framed by the magnificent flaming phoenix. Sensei Kyuzo and Sensei Yosa on his left, Sensei Hosokawa and Sensei Yamada to his right.
Jack knelt between Akiko and the bandaged Yamato on the lower floor. Yamato had been extremely fortunate. The shuriken had not been poisoned and, while he had suffered a deep chest wound, he would recover.
‘But who sent him?’ asked Jack.
Masamoto sipped from a cup of sencha then gazed pensively at it.
‘That we don’t know. It may be a sign of things to come,’ he replied gravely. ‘So daimyo Takatomi has increased his personal guard and has ordered new security measures to be installed in his castle. He sends his apologies for not being here tonight. He has been called away to Edo. But he is most appreciative of all your efforts in stopping the ninja. He wanted me to give you these as a token of his esteem.’
A maid entered bearing three boxes and placed one in front of each of the young samurai. Jack examined his. It was a small rectangular box made of thickly lacquered wood. The surface was exquisitely decorated in gold and silver leaf, and he could make out a finely engraved sakura tree within the design, its blossom picked out in ivory. Attached to the top of the box by a hemp cord was a small ivory toggle carved into the shape of a lion’s head. He looked enquiringly over at the others.
They too had received similar gifts, but the boxes bore different designs and Yamato’s had a monkey-shaped toggle, while Akiko’s was carved into a miniature eagle.
‘They are called inro, Jack-kun,’ explained Masamoto, seeing Jack’s puzzled expression. ‘They’re used for carrying things, such as medicines, money, pens and ink. That small ivory lion’s head is called a netsuke. You slip it through your obi and it will secure the inro to you.’
Jack picked up the beautifully crafted inro and ivory netsuke. He had always wondered what the Japanese had done without pockets in their kimono. The inro consisted of a stack of tiny boxes that fitted snugly one on top of the other. He passed the lion’s head netsuke through his obi and secured the inro to his belt.
‘Takatomi-sama has