Young Samurai _ The Way Of The Dragon - Chris Bradford [97]
But such political matters were beyond Jack’s influence. As a mere boy, any warnings would go unheeded. The greatest harm he could inflict upon Father Bobadillo’s cause was to get his father’s rutter back. If only for his father’s sake, Jack couldn’t let someone as evil as Father Bobadillo possess such knowledge of the seas and, therefore, such power.
But where could the rutter be? The hurried search of the priest’s study had come up with nothing, except the dictionary. He was certain Father Bobadillo knew where the logbook was. But the Jesuit was definitely keeping an eye on him and Jack couldn’t risk going back a second time.
Yori poked his head round the door. ‘Can I come in?’ he asked timidly.
Jack nodded and Yori perched beside him. Staring at the floor, Jack searched for the right words to apologize properly to his friend.
‘This well house is called the Gold Water Well,’ said Yori, attempting to fill the awkward silence. Looking into the well, he continued, ‘It’s fed by a tunnel from the inner moat, but to improve the taste Satoshi’s father sank bars of gold into the well’s depths.’
Jack looked down. A slither of moonlight danced upon the clear water below.
‘I can’t see any gold,’ replied Jack, relieved Yori had broken the tension by speaking first. ‘But I did see your rabbit in the moon. Sorry for being so rude to you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Yori, smiling. ‘I know it was the tiger talking and not you.’
‘What do you mean?’ replied Jack, uncertain what he was referring to.
‘I saw the way you looked when Takuan made Akiko his muse.’
‘It’s nothing to do with that,’ mumbled Jack, glancing over at Takuan and his group of followers. They were strolling round the garden, Emi now at his elbow.
Yori smiled knowingly. ‘You really should show Akiko your haiku. I’m sure she’d like it.’
‘My haiku?’ said Jack, his brow creasing in puzzlement. ‘But it was destroyed in the fire.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ replied Yori, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from the sleeve of his kimono. ‘I spotted it when rescuing your Daruma Doll and slipped the paper into my obi.’
‘What were you thinking?’ exclaimed Jack, staring at Yori aghast. ‘The school was being attacked, the Shishi-no-ma ablaze, and you were saving my poetry!’
‘Don’t you remember what Sensei Yamada said? It is our duty to ensure we have a peace worth fighting for. Your haiku is exactly what Sensei Yamada meant by a peace worth fighting for. It is, therefore, your duty to present this poem to Akiko.’
Jack sat there, dumbstruck by Yori’s suggestion.
Yori sighed with exasperation. Jumping down from the well, he pulled Jack towards the garden.
‘Go on,’ he urged, seeing Akiko wander away from the group and enter the sakura trees bordering the tea garden.
Jack felt Yori shove him in the small of the back and he stumbled in Akiko’s direction. He walked in a daze over the bridge, his haiku in hand, and followed her into the trees. Glancing back, he saw Yori smiling and nodding his head in encouragement.
Akiko had found a quiet bench in the lee of the castle wall. There was no one around and it was quite dark here, but the stars and moon were brighter and looked even more beautiful because of this. Her face was turned towards the sky in peaceful contemplation. Jack remained at a distance, hidden in the shadows, trying to pluck up the courage to approach.
‘I simply don’t trust Kamakura,’ said a voice in the darkness.
Startled, Jack slipped behind the trunk of a tree as three daimyo walked by. He recognized the voice as Emi’s father, daimyo Takatomi.
‘He’s laid a trap and we’ve fallen for it.’
‘I agree,’ said another gravely. ‘My scouts have informed me that his army is encamped but a day’s journey