Young Samurai 06 - The Ring of Fire (15 page)

‘We’ve already discussed this,’ said Miyuki wearily.

‘I’m not disputing the decision,’ replied Hayato, glaring at her. ‘I’m simply wondering
whose
sword it is.’

‘Well, it’s not mine.’

‘And my
nodachi
’s on the bed,’ said Yuudai, pointing to the massive blade lying across his straw mattress.

‘As a monk, I don’t carry one,’ Yori explained with a smile.

Jack patted the
daishō
on his hip. ‘Both my swords are here.’

‘I’ve got mine too,’ said Saburo, holding up his shiny untested blades.

‘My point exactly!’ said Hayato. ‘We all have our weapons and the farmers aren’t supposed to have swords, so where did she get hers?’

They all turned to Neko, who was merrily preparing their dinner, her mystery
katana
propped up in the corner.

‘I’ll ask her,’ Miyuki offered. She came back a moment later. ‘Neko says she found it.’

‘But
where
did she find it?’ demanded Hayato.

‘She’ll show us after dinner.’

They dug into their usual meal of plain white rice and steamed vegetables. Once finished, everyone put on overcoats against the night chill and followed Neko outside. She led them across the square and, to their surprise, came to a halt in front of the rice store. Pulling back the large wooden doors, Neko held up an oil lamp she’d taken from the farmhouse. Its flickering light illuminated a cavernous barn with a hard-packed earthen floor. Bales of rice, wrapped in their own straw, were stacked five high upon rough wooden planks down each side.

‘Appears to be plenty of rice,’ remarked Saburo.

‘For you, maybe!’ Miyuki snorted. ‘The store’s half empty and this stock has to last the
entire
village until spring!’

Beckoning them inside, Neko headed for a large mound of hay by the back wall. Walking round it, they were shocked to discover Kunio amid a pile of weaponry and armour. Caught in the act, his face flushed with shame. On his head a horned helmet sat askew, far too big for him. He wore a bloodied breastplate and held a battleworn
katana
aloft, as if pretending to be some legendary warrior.

‘Put that sword down!’ ordered Hayato, staring aghast at the ominous collection of weaponry.

‘Neko’s got one,’ moaned Kunio petulantly. ‘Why can’t I?’

Hayato turned on Miyuki. ‘This is just what I feared would happen!’

He bent down and picked up one of the spears. As he did so, he dislodged some hay to reveal a trapdoor in the wooden planking. Through the opening, they could see a hoard of spears, swords and armour.

Hayato grabbed Kunio and shook the boy violently.

‘
Where did all this come from?
’ he demanded, but Kunio was too petrified to reply.

Toge appeared out of the darkness and answered for him. ‘From dead samurai.’

25

DIVISIONS

‘These farmers are all thieves and murderers!’ exclaimed Hayato, pushing Kunio away and glaring at Toge with contempt.

Saburo, Yori and Yuudai exchanged looks of equal disgust at the revelation.

‘There must be some other explanation,’ said Jack, struggling to come to terms with the farmers’ dark secret.

‘No, there isn’t!’ snapped Hayato, picking up a helmet and brandishing it in their faces. ‘This is plunder from vanquished samurai. After a battle, such farmers as
him
swoop on to the field like vultures, hunting the wounded and defeated, and stealing all they can!’

Turning on his heel, Hayato strode towards the door.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Jack.

‘I’m leaving,’ he announced.

‘But what about Akuma?’

Hayato laughed coldly. ‘Are we to risk our lives, only for the farmers to kill and rob us? Not me.’

‘Toge, this can’t be true,’ Jack begged, as Yuudai went to follow his friend.

‘Hayato’s right,’ replied Toge matter-of-factly. ‘We’ve ransacked battlefields. Stolen from dead samurai. Ignored the pleas of dying warriors.’

Jack was astounded at the lack of remorse shown by the farmer.

‘But we’ve done no more than his kind do to us!’

Hayato halted in his tracks and stared in outrage at Toge. ‘Samurai lay down their lives to protect this land from invaders, tyrants and bandits, so that you’re safe to grow your rice. And
this
is how you reward our services?’

‘
Services?
’ spat Toge, snatching up a spear and shaking it furiously. ‘Wherever samurai fight, they burn and destroy our crops, kill our women, hurt our children and destroy our homes! As farmers, we must fight for survival
every
day!’ Toge lashed out, kicking a pile of armour with his foot. ‘You accuse us of being thieves and murderers! But
who
made us so?’

He pointed the spear tip defiantly at them, his face contorted with anger.

‘
Your parents did!
’

Throwing the weapon to the ground, Toge stormed out of the storehouse, leaving the young samurai shamed into silence. Jack too was lost for words. He hadn’t been fully aware of the bitter division between farmer and samurai. He now understood why the
ronin
were reluctant to help the farmers; but, even more, why the farmers were so mistrusting of the samurai. Their lives were ruled and ruined by the actions of the warrior class.

‘Do you still intend to leave?’ asked Jack of Hayato.

He shrugged noncommittally. ‘After dishonouring our dead in such a way, they’ve only themselves to blame for their situation.’

‘Fix the problem – not the blame,’ said Yori.

Everyone turned to him. His quiet voice had become the word of wisdom among the group.

‘That’s what Sensei Yamada always says,’ he explained. ‘If our parents are the cause of the farmers’ problems, can we not be the solution?’

‘I don’t see how,’ said Saburo bitterly.

‘By working together. If we make a stand and defeat Akuma, we can regain the farmers’ respect for samurai that our elders lost.’

‘And we could certainly do with this weaponry,’ added Miyuki, picking up a sharpened
naginata
and giving it an admiring look.

‘Yes,’ agreed Jack. ‘That way, at least we’d be putting their bad deeds to good use.’

Hayato nodded with stoic acceptance. ‘I suppose, their shame is our shame. As samurai, we’re duty-bound to make amends.’

Junichi appeared at the storehouse door with Yoshi, shuffling in behind.

‘We heard shouting. Is anything wrong?’ he asked, glancing between the strained faces of the young samurai. Then he saw the weapons and his own guilt-ridden expression said it all.

‘I-I-I can explain …’ he stuttered.

‘There’s no need,’ replied Yori. ‘Whatever the past has been, it need not be the future.’

Junichi smiled with awkward relief. ‘Of course not.’

Yoshi squinted at Yori with genuine respect. ‘For such a young monk, you possess an old soul,’ he croaked. ‘In my life, I’ve learnt that there is no future without forgiveness. Our village is grateful for the mercy you’ve shown us.’

‘Does that mean I can keep this?’ asked Kunio, holding up the sword he’d found.

‘By all means,’ replied Hayato with a sly grin. ‘We’ll even send you in
first
to fight Akuma.’

Kunio’s face went pale at the thought and he hurriedly put down the sword. ‘On second thoughts, I think I prefer a bamboo spear.’

26

SAMURAI SCHOOL

Shouts of fighting assaulted Jack’s ears before he’d even turned the corner. In front of him, a group of farmers stood in three rows, their fists held up, feet planted in a defensive stance.

‘
Ichi, ni, san …
’ shouted Saburo, counting off each of their punches.

The farmers cried ‘
KIAI!
’ with every strike, their bursts of breath fogging in the chill air. What they lacked in coordination and timing, they made up for in enthusiasm.

Since the discovery of the weapon hoard, the villagers had been repentant, humbled by the forgiveness shown by the young samurai. They now worked without complaint, trained like dedicated warriors, and saw the young samurai as allies rather than oppressors – a preconception they’d found hard to shake off in light of their experiences with
daimyo
Ikeda and his samurai.

The outrage felt by the young samurai themselves had been buried in order to focus on Akuma’s forthcoming raid. They’d all agreed to honour the fallen by using their stolen weapons and armour to defend the village and, in doing so, atone for the villagers’ suffering caused by previous samurai wars.

Jack had gone so far as to suggest that they train the farmers in basic martial arts and sword skills. If the bandits made it through their outer defences, they would need every available hand to fight. Although it broke the law and further blurred the social boundaries, Hayato saw the sense in such a strategy and had even agreed to lead one of the sword classes himself. Time wasn’t on their side, but they hoped the training would improve
everyone’s
chances of survival.

In the field adjacent to Saburo’s, Yuudai was instructing his Barricade unit in the Art of the Spear. He was drilling them in thrusts, charges and various attack and defence manoeuvres. His camaraderie with the men, established during the construction of the barricade, was proving invaluable and his unit quickly fell into line to become the most disciplined and capable of all the groups.

Next to him, Miyuki was with Neko, demonstrating basic self-defence for the women of the village to use against the bandits. Neko was relishing her new status as a trainee ninja and, with her falls cushioned by the thick snow, she literally threw herself into every move.

As Jack approached the group, he heard one woman say, ‘But Neko’s no bandit. We wouldn’t stand a chance against a fully grown man.’

At this, Miyuki invited Yuudai to join them. He towered over the women, who all shrank back in trepidation. Miyuki signed some instructions to Neko, then turned to Yuudai.

‘Grab her,’ she ordered. ‘Then hit her.’

Yuudai’s broad brow creased with concern. ‘I don’t fight women, let alone young ladies half my size.’

‘You won’t hurt her, I promise.’

Grudgingly, Yuudai seized Neko by the lapel of her kimono and, with an apologetic smile, raised his fist. Before he could take a swing at her, she grabbed his hand and compressed his thumb into a lock. Strong as he was, the pain crippled Yuudai. As he tried to strike, Neko stamped on his lead foot and drove the tip of her own thumb into the side of his ribs – just as Miyuki had taught her to.
Boshi-ken
, Finger Sword Fist, was one of the ninja’s Sixteen Secret Fist techniques and was devastatingly effective. Grunting with more pain, Yuudai doubled over and lost his balance. Still holding on to his hand, Neko gave Yuudai’s wrist a sharp twist and he was thrown backwards. She then pinned him to the ground with an arm lock.

‘Even the smallest ant can bring down the biggest tree,’ said Miyuki proudly, as the women stared in awe of Neko’s effortless defeat of the muscular boy. ‘
Ninjutsu
isn’t about size or strength; it’s about skill and technique. You’re
all
capable of this.’

Empowered by the demonstration, the women couldn’t wait to attempt it themselves. Miyuki partnered them up and began to instruct her eager students. Meanwhile, Neko, mortified at hurting Yuudai, offered her hand to help him up. Yuudai readily accepted, only to pull her to the ground and playfully shove a handful of snow in her face. Rolling away, Neko burst into silent giggles. She hurriedly gathered snow for a retaliation attack. But Yuudai had already scooped up a huge ball and was about to launch it, when a hail of snowballs pummelled him from behind.

‘Teamwork helps too!’ Miyuki cried, catching Yuudai full in the face.

Laughing, Yuudai begged for mercy as the women villagers drove him back with snowball after snowball. His loyal Barricade unit dropped their spears and joined in the fight, sending a barrage of snowballs in a counter-attack at the women.