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‘I know because my father was daimyo Takatomi’s personal bodyguard at the time. My father saw Tatsuo’s beheading with his own eyes.’

Jack was momentarily stunned into silence. Before he could ask more, though, Jiro came charging out of the house, wielding his bokken. He fought his way in mock combat across the garden. Jack couldn’t believe the old woman had made everything up. There had to be a grain of truth in her story. But maybe she was as convinced in her tale as Jiro was in battling his imaginary ninja.

7

THE PEARL

‘Hurry up, Jack!’ urged Akiko. ‘The sun’s about to rise.’

Akiko trotted ahead on her white stallion, the same one Jack had seen her with the morning after the Alexandria had been shipwrecked off the coast of Japan. It had been dawn and she’d been praying at a temple overlooking the cove where their ship lay. Jack had spotted the horse before being transfixed by the sight of a dark-haired girl, her skin white as snow. Akiko had been his first impression of Japan.

‘The darned thing won’t obey me,’ complained Jack, struggling to stay mounted on his smaller brown mare. ‘Give me a ship any time!’

He bounced along the coastal path behind her, gripping tighter to the mane and desperately trying to match the horse’s rhythm. Having been a sailor, Jack had never learnt to ride. The closest experience he’d had was riding the bucking yardarm of the Alexandria in a storm.

‘You managed to ride all the way from Kyoto to Toba,’ noted Akiko.

‘Yes, but I rode with Kuma-san on his horse. And look what happened! We got thrown, he dislocated his shoulder and I bruised my backside!’

Akiko laughed at Jack’s pained expression as he continued to jolt along. ‘Don’t worry, we’re nearly there.’

They rounded a small headland and Akiko dismounted. She hurried over to Jack and helped him down.

They’d been in Toba over a month now and, thanks to a good dose of motherly care and attention, Akiko had fully recovered from her poisoning. Though their return hadn’t been a matter of choice, she clearly relished being back at home and spending time with her mother and brother. In the half-light, Jack could see her face was aglow, her jet-black eyes sparkling with a newfound energy.

Jack couldn’t quite say the same for himself. It was still far too early in the day. Somehow Akiko had managed to persuade him to rise before dawn and join her to watch the sunrise at Meoto Iwa, a headland a little round the coast from Toba. Yamato had sensibly decided to have a lie-in and said he would join them later for sword practice.

Jack followed Akiko down to the rocky shoreline. She seated herself upon a flat rock, crossing her legs in the lotus position in readiness for the sunrise.

Jack breathed in the salty air, the smell instantly evoking memories of his ocean-going days. He itched to be out at sea again, to feel the roll of the deck beneath his feet, to hear the snap of the sails as the wind took hold and to steer a course for home. He looked up into the lightening sky and spotted the northern star still burning in the heavens.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Akiko, as Jack began to turn on the spot and scan the horizon.

Jack pointed into the distance. ‘That way lies England.’

Seeing the longing in his blue eyes, she smiled sadly at him.

‘You’ll get there one day,’ she said, indicating for him to sit beside her, ‘but, until then, you should enjoy the moments you have here.’

Jack looked down at Akiko. Perhaps she was right. He was so intent on returning home, he often overlooked the good things about Japan. From the calm order of samurai life to the thrill of wielding a sword, from the exquisite taste of sushi to the beauty of the cherry blossom, Japan offered so much more than England could ever give him. And if he did leave for home, he’d miss all his friends greatly – Yamato, Yori, Saburo and, of course, Akiko.

Returning her smile, he sat down next to her and waited for the sun.

‘Here it comes,’ Akiko whispered, taking a deep breath as golden rays of light fanned out across the horizon.

Out