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Not only that, Jack had to contend with the constant threat to his life posed by Dragon Eye. He couldn’t leave Japan without his father’s rutter. It was rightfully his and the key to his future. He had to retrieve the logbook before the code was broken. The hunter had now become the hunted. He had to find Dragon Eye.

Dokugan Ryu’s eyeless mother had laughed at the suggestion of seeking out her ninja son. Dragon Eye was like the wind, she said, and moved with the seasons, never settling in the same place twice. Despite the offer of another coin, she refused to reveal his location. Yamato very much doubted she knew it anyway. He believed she was making the whole story up and they’d wasted their money on worthless lies.

‘Nice picture,’ Yamato commented, rounding the trunk of the sakura, fresh from his bath. ‘That the one Akiko rescued from the tree?’

‘Yes, it is,’ mumbled Jack, startled by his friend’s sudden appearance.

He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed Yamato’s approach. Jack carefully folded the parchment and slipped it back inside his inro. He was far more guarded with it ever since Kazuki, his arch-rival at school, had snatched the picture from his hands and thrown it into the topmost branches of a maple tree. Thankfully, Akiko had retrieved it for him, with an astounding display of agility.

‘I’ve been thinking we should keep our training up, just in case my father decides to allow us back to school,’ suggested Yamato.

Jack looked up in surprise. Clearly, the bath had not only cleansed his friend’s body but his mind too. It was the most positive thing Yamato had uttered in ages. He knew his friend feared his father. Masamoto was a hard man to please since the death of his firstborn son, Tenno, and Yamato was desperate for his approval.

Perhaps there was some hope for Yamato and Akiko of going back to the Niten Ichi Ryū, but Jack doubted he would ever be allowed to return.

‘It’ll be like old times. Remember when we used to spar with our bokken over there?’ said Yamato merrily, indicating a bare patch of training ground at the back of the house.

Jack nodded.

‘And he used to thrash you!’ cried a small voice.

Jack turned round to see a young boy thundering full pelt across the wooden bridge towards them.

‘Jiro!’ exclaimed Jack as the boy ran into his arms.

Apart from Akiko, Jiro – her brother – had been Jack’s only companion in those early months following his arrival. Back then, he and Yamato hadn’t been friends. Jiro was quite right. Their sparring sessions had been more an excuse for Yamato to beat him up. Yamato’s harsh instruction, though, had helped Jack learn the basics of sword fighting and this had led him to be invited by Masamoto to train at the Niten Ichi Ryū, the One School of Two Heavens.

‘You’ve grown,’ observed Jack, measuring up the grinning brown-eyed boy.

‘Big enough to carry a sword now!’ Jiro replied in a defiant tone.

‘Is that right?’ said Jack, raising his eyebrows at Yamato. ‘Think you’re big enough to challenge me, do you?’

‘No problem,’ said Jiro, resting his fists upon his hips.

‘A duel!’ exclaimed Yamato in mock horror. ‘There’s no escape for you, Jack. I’ll be the judge. Jiro, get your bokken.’

Thrilled at the prospect, Jiro sprinted off to get his wooden sword. It reminded Jack of his own excitement when he’d first trained in the Way of the Warrior. But the opportunity to become a samurai had given Jack more than just a thrill. It had given him hope. For with such fighting skills at his disposal, Jack had a chance of survival. Maybe even of defeating Dragon Eye.

‘Yamato,’ he asked, while they waited for Jiro to return, ‘why were you so convinced the old woman in the Dragon Temple was lying? Isn’t there a chance Hattori Tatsuo could have survived to become Dokugan Ryu?’

Yamato rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated that Jack was still pursuing the idea after three days. ‘That hag was crazy. She was playing a sick joke on you. Tatsuo died in the Nakasendo War ten years ago.’