• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

‘KIAAAIIIIIII!’

The samurai in blue screamed again, summoning all his fighting spirit, and launched an attack. He cut down with his sword on to the exposed neck of the warrior, victory assured.

Still the older samurai didn’t move and Jack was sure he was as good as dead.

Then at the last second, the older samurai shifted off-line, avoiding the lethal arc of the blade, and with a short cry of ‘Kiai!’ cut his own sword across the unguarded side of his attacker.

For what seemed an eternity, the two samurai froze, face-to-face.

Neither broke eye contact.

One sword dripped blood.

There was a disturbing absence of sound, as if death itself had muffled the ears of the world. Not even a temple bell chimed.

Then, with a low groan, the younger samurai leant to one side and crumpled to the ground, dead. His body threw up clouds of dust that billowed away as if they were the warrior’s fleeing spirit.

The older samurai maintained his focus a moment longer, ensuring the duel was over. Then he straightened up and flicked the blood from his blade in a move Jack recognized as chiburi. Resheathing his sword, the samurai walked away without looking back.

‘I suppose that’s what Sensei Kyuzo means by fudoshin,’ breathed Saburo in awe. ‘That samurai didn’t even blink when the sword was going for his head.’

But Jack wasn’t listening. He was transfixed by the blood seeping into the dusty ground. The duel had reminded him of how brutal and unforgiving Japan could be. The news that the priest’s death was true meant that daimyo Kamakura’s plan to wipe out Christians had to be too. The question was how long did Jack have left in this violent land?

10

THE NIGHTINGALE FLOOR

‘Run!’ whispered Akiko urgently later that night. ‘They’re coming!’

Jack bolted from their hiding place underneath the staircase. He hurried down the corridor and into a room with a large silk-screen painting of two ferocious tigers. He heard a cry from behind and realized the guards had already caught Akiko. They would be after him now.

Opening the shoji door on the other side of the Tiger Room, he glanced down the hallway, saw it was deserted and ran. He switched left at the end, then took the first right. He had no idea where he was going, since the daimyo’s castle was a complete labyrinth of rooms, corridors and passageways.

Running on tiptoe so that he made as little sound as possible upon the wooden floorboards, he followed the corridor round past two closed shoji doors and then bore left. But it was a dead end.

He heard a guard’s voice and spun round. But the corridor was empty.

Jack retraced his steps, stopping where the corridor switched right. He then listened for the sound of approaching feet.

Dead silence.

Warily, he peeked round the corner.

The corridor was windowless and only one of the paper lanterns that hung from the beams had been lit. In the flickering gloom, he could see a single shoji at the far end of the passageway.

With no sight or sound of anyone, he stepped out.

And his foot disappeared through the floor.

He cried out as he plummeted downwards. In sheer desperation, he flung himself to one side, grabbing at the wall. His fingers found purchase on a wooden crosspiece and Jack clung on for all his life was worth.

To his alarm, he hung over a gaping hole in the woodblock floor. A sliding trapdoor had been opened to catch unsuspecting intruders.

Jack peered into the depths. A small set of steps led down into unfathomable darkness. Jack cursed himself for his hastiness. He could easily have broken his leg, or even his neck. Here was all the proof he needed that escape was futile.

Regaining his composure, he edged backwards until his feet found solid ground again.

‘Come on! This way!’

A guard had heard his cry and they were now in pursuit.

Skirting the hole, Jack made his way down the corridor, but he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching.

‘He’s not in here.’

Jack quickened his pace, keeping one eye on the floor and one eye on where he was headed. His pursuers would soon turn the corner and