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‘Ronin?’ asked Jack.

‘Masterless samurai,’ explained Masamoto as he sipped his tea, only to find it had become too cold for his liking. ‘Ever since the Battle of Nakasendo brought an end to civil conflict ten years ago, many soldiers have been out of service. Ronin seek a daimyo to serve, to fight for, to die for. The cause rarely matters, so long as they have food in their stomachs and a standard to bear.’

Masamoto put down his cup and studied Jack. He gave a weary sigh, clasping his hands beneath his chin as if deliberating on whether to disclose something troubling.

‘There’s been a call to arms,’ he finally revealed. ‘Daimyo Kamakura is openly recruiting ronin, ashigaru and the support of any daimyo sympathetic to his mission. The man’s made his intentions clear. It’s a worrying development.’

‘Are you suggesting I should leave?’ asked Jack, both hopeful and anxious of his guardian’s answer.

Returning home to England was his hope, his dream. Alone, he had no chance of making the long journey south through Japan to the port of Nagasaki. But with Masamoto’s help, he’d have his guardian’s guidance and protection. Yet Jack was now in two minds about going. He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t mastered the Two Heavens and Dragon Eye was still a threat. Most importantly, he had yet to recover his father’s rutter, though he was beginning to lose hope of ever finding it. Masamoto’s sources had still not heard anything.

‘NO!’ shouted Masamoto vehemently. ‘That man will not drive you away. You are my adopted son. You are family. You are samurai!’

Jack was taken aback by his guardian’s passionate outburst. This was the other reason for his growing reluctance to leave. He now had family here in Japan. A father figure in Masamoto and a brother in Yamato. He’d also made good friends in Yori and Saburo. And there was Akiko, who’d become so much part of his life that he couldn’t imagine being without her. Japan had got under his skin, found a place in his heart, and the idea of leaving was becoming harder with each day.

‘Besides,’ continued his guardian, ‘I suspect there’s much more to daimyo Kamakura’s campaign than a simple hatred of foreigners.’

Jack was intrigued. Having met the man himself, he’d been struck by how cruel, power-hungry and sadistic the samurai was. Jack had once witnessed the beheading of an elderly tea merchant, merely because the old man hadn’t heard the command to bow as daimyo Kamakura passed by. What worse could daimyo Kamakura be planning than the exile and murder of all foreigners?

‘But I’ll be making an announcement about that this evening. First, I must see to the punishment of the three ashigaru who kidnapped you.’

Masamoto got to his feet and picked up his swords.

‘Are you going to kill them?’ asked Jack, not certain he really wanted to know the answer.

‘I’ve seriously considered it. But Sensei Yamada convinced me they’d be more useful as messengers. They’ll ensure everyone they meet knows the province of Kyoto will not tolerate racial persecution.’

‘So what will you do?’

‘Let’s just say they won’t be able to count higher than eight – with either their fingers or toes!’

19

THE ANNOUNCEMENT

‘WAR sits upon the horizon like a thundercloud,’ proclaimed Masamoto.

The announcement sent a wave of stunned astonishment through the rows of young samurai kneeling before him in the Chō-no-ma, the dining hall named after its panelled walls of painted butterflies. For some, it was a shock; for others, it brought the promise of honour and glory. For Jack, who’d witnessed battles first-hand at sea against Portuguese warships, it meant days and nights of fear, pain and death.

Masamoto held up his hand for silence. He was wearing his ceremonial flame-red kimono, its five golden phoenix kamon glimmering in the lamplight like armour. His face was brooding and severe, his scarring a dark red.

‘You’ll all be aware of daimyo Kamakura’s campaign to drive out Christians and foreigners from our