Young Samurai _ The Way Of The Dragon - Chris Bradford [83]
He was about to return to his friends, when he noticed a glint of steel. Brushing aside the ash, he uncovered the tantō he’d taken from the ninja in the bamboo forest. The lacquered saya had cracked under the heat, but the knife itself was undamaged. In fact, the fire seemed only to have further tempered the steel, for Jack’s little finger was dripping blood. He must have cut it while clearing away the embers. Very carefully, Jack tucked the demon blade into his belt.
‘Jack!’ called Yori, scurrying over.
Rising slowly to his feet, Jack greeted his friend. He felt sore all over, his muscles bruised and battered and his neck aching from his near-hanging experience. But he was one of the fortunate ones. At least he could walk.
Yori, his face streaked black with smoke and dried tears, handed him a small round bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth.
‘This is yours,’ he said proudly.
Opening it, Jack found himself staring at his Daruma Doll. ‘It was lying on top of the kimono I used to collect the weapons,’ Yori explained. ‘I know the wish it contains means a lot to you, so I rescued it along with your swords.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Jack, patting his friend on the shoulder. ‘But I don’t think this Daruma Doll works. It’s been nearly three years since I made that wish.’
‘Daruma wishes do come true. You can’t give up hope, Jack.’
Yori’s pleading eyes looked up at him. Jack realized his friend was barely holding himself together. The sudden attack and the brutality of the fighting had left him shocked and on the verge of falling apart. Yori was looking to Jack for reassurance.
‘We survived, didn’t we?’ replied Jack, smiling. ‘And it was your loyalty that saved me. My mother used to say, “Where there are friends, there’s hope.” You’re a true friend, Yori.’
Touched by his words, Yori bowed his head. ‘It’s my honour.’
Crossing the courtyard, they passed a group of Yagyu students guarded by samurai from the Yoshioka Ryū. Patched up but looking thoroughly defeated, Nobu and Hiroto were among the prisoners, their heads hung in shame. Jack noticed Kazuki was not with them, the traitor having escaped amid the confusion of battle. News of his defection had spread rapidly among the students. Masamoto had been furious to discover the truth of Kazuki’s father’s treachery. Vowing to punish Oda-san, he’d sent a patrol in search of his son. But so far Kazuki had evaded capture.
Beside the main gate, the bodies of the fallen had been gathered for cremation at various temples. Akiko stood nearby.
‘You go on, I’ll join you shortly,’ said Jack to Yori.
His friend nodded in understanding and headed inside the Chō-no-ma.
As Jack approached Akiko, she looked up, her eyes red from crying.
‘I may not have liked her, but she didn’t deserve to die like this.’
Akiko gazed down at the lifeless Moriko.
‘It was all my fault,’ she sniffed, her voice cracking slightly.
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Jack insisted, trying not to look at the charred corpse. ‘You didn’t know the building was about to collapse. Besides, if you hadn’t knocked her out with your jindou, she would have killed us both.’
‘But is this what war really means?’ asked Akiko, waving a despairing hand at the pile of dead bodies. ‘None of our training prepared us for this.’
Jack understood what she meant. They’d been so focused on the training, they’d never really thought about the consequences – of actually taking a person’s life. But the onset of war had forced them into using their skills. From this day forth, they would have to face up to their responsibilities as samurai.
‘You told me once that being a samurai means “to serve”,’ said Jack. ‘That our duty is to our Emperor, our daimyo and our family. I didn’t understand at the time, but I now know what duty means. As samurai, we may have to kill, or be killed, if we want to protect those we serve and love.’
‘You’re right,