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His growing look of horror was mirrored by both Akiko and Yamato.

Someone was coming.

‘Quick! Hide the rutter,’ instructed Akiko.

The Nightingale Floor sang with each approaching footstep.

Jack had no choice. He replaced the logbook on the upper ledge and let the wall hanging fall back into place.

Outside the noise of the floorboards ceased.

The stranger was at the shoji door.

They looked at one another. What should they do? If it was a guard, they could they pretend they were lost; but if it wasn’t, shouldn’t they be getting ready to fight?

The shoji slid open.

A figure knelt before them, silhouetted in the corridor, the face veiled in shadow.

No one moved.

Jack noticed the wall hanging was still swinging slightly and desperately willed it to stop.

The figure bowed and stood.

A beautiful woman in a jade-green kimono, her long hair twirled high upon her head and fastened with an ornate hairpin, glided into the room.

‘The daimyo thought you might like some refreshments for your private party,’ the woman said softly, putting a small tray with a teapot and four china cups down on the tatami.

She indicated for them to sit.

Bewildered, yet somewhat relieved, the three of them did as they were told. Jack watched the serving woman pour out three cups of sencha. She smiled kindly, offering Jack the first drink; her eyes, shiny as black pearls, never leaving his face.

Jack waited for the others to be served before drinking.

The Nightingale Floor sang again and everyone froze.

The woman slipped a fan from her obi, flicking open its black metal spine to reveal an exquisite handpainted design of a green dragon entwined in misty mountains.

‘It is rather warm,’ she commented, fluttering the fan in front of her face. ‘You must be thirsty.’

Jack, his mouth dry with dread at the approach of a second visitor, raised the cup to his lips.

The shoji slid open a second time and Emi entered.

‘My father was wondering where you all were,’ she said, her expression rather indignant at not having been invited to their private gathering. ‘He wants to… Who are you?’

Emi stared at the serving woman. ‘You don’t work here.’

Before anyone could react, the woman flung her tray at Emi, spilling the tea across the floor. The tray went spinning through the air like a large square shuriken and struck Emi in the neck. She collapsed to the ground, knocked unconscious.

‘Kunoichi!’ screamed Akiko, rolling away from the imposter.

‘Don’t drink it, Jack!’ Yamato cried as he slapped the cup from his hands. ‘Poison!’

Momentarily stunned, Jack could only stare at the tatami, which gave off tiny wafts of acrid smoke where the tea had been spilt.

‘Ninja?’ said Jack in disbelief, looking up at the beautiful woman before him. He’d thought only men were ninja.

The female ninja snapped her dragon fan shut and brought its hardened metal spine down on to Jack’s head like a hammer. Yamato threw himself in front of Jack, shoving his friend out of harm’s way, but the iron tip of the fan caught Yamato on the temple. He went down and stayed down.

Flipping to her feet, the kunoichi leapt over the prone body of Yamato and advanced on Jack. As she raised her hand to strike a second time, Akiko crescent-kicked the iron fan from the woman’s grasp.

The ninja immediately retaliated with a devastating sidekick to Akiko’s stomach, sending her flying across the room.

In that brief moment of distraction, Jack managed to scramble to his feet. Seeing his friends lying injured around him, his fury fuelled his strength as he went on the attack.

The female ninja retreated before Jack’s spinning-hook kick. She ducked while putting a hand to her head. Her hair cascaded down her back in a billowing black cloud and a bolt of lightning flashed out, straight towards Jack’s right eye.

Jack staggered backwards to avoid the sharpened hairpin, its glinting point flying past his eyeball.

She stabbed at his face a second time, but was way off target.

Jack watched as the steel pin passed to his left and suddenly Sensei Kano’s lesson ‘learn to fight without