'We believe Dokugan Ryu was sent to poison daimyo Takatomi,' explained
Masamoto the following night in the Hō-oh-no-ma, the Hall of the Phoenix.
He sat upon his dais, framed by the magnificent flaming phoenix. Sensei
Kyuzo and Sensei Yosa on his left, Sensei Hosokawa and Sensei Yamada to
his right.
Jack knelt between Akiko and the bandaged Yamato on the lower floor.
Yamato had been extremely fortunate. The shuriken had not been poisoned
and, while he had suffered a deep chest wound, he would recover.
'But who sent him?' asked Jack.
Masamoto sipped from a cup of sencha then gazed pensively at it.
'That we don't know. It may be a sign of things to come,' he replied
gravely. 'So daimyo Takatomi has increased his personal guard and has
ordered new security measures to be installed in his castle. He sends his
apologies for not being here tonight. He has been called away to Edo. But
he is most appreciative of all your efforts in stopping the ninja. He wanted
me to give you these as a token of his esteem.'
A maid entered bearing three boxes and placed one in front of each of the
young samurai. Jack examined his. It was a small rectangular box made of
thickly lacquered wood. The surface was exquisitely decorated in gold and
silver leaf, and he could make out a finely engraved sakura tree within the
design, its blossom picked out in ivory. Attached to the top of the box by a
hemp cord was a small ivory toggle carved into the shape of a lion's head.
He looked enquiringly over at the others.
They too had received similar gifts, but the boxes bore different designs
and Yamato's had a monkey-shaped toggle, while Akiko's was carved into a
miniature eagle.
'They are called inro, Jack-kun,' explained Masamoto, seeing Jack's
puzzled expression. 'They're used for carrying things, such as medicines,
money, pens and ink. That small ivory lion's head is called a netsuke. You
slip it through your obi and it will secure the inro to you.'
Jack picked up the beautifully crafted inro and ivory netsuke. He had
always wondered what the Japanese had done without pockets in their
kimono. The inro consisted of a stack of tiny boxes that fitted snugly one on
top of the other. He passed the lion's head netsuke through his obi and
secured the inro to his belt.
'Takatomi-sama has also extended his funding of the Niten Ichi Ryū
indefinitely,' continued Masamoto, 'and has bestowed upon the school a
new training hall. It is to be called Taka-no-ma, the Hall of the Hawk. For
that, I myself am indebted to you. You have once again brought great
honour upon this school. In recognition of your service, I wish to present
you with these gifts.'
Three servants entered, each carrying a large, lacquered box, which they
placed upon the dais.
'Yamato-kun, you have proven yourself to be a true Masamoto. This time
with your own blood. I am proud to call you my son. As a mark of my
respect for you, please come forward and accept this daishō.'
Bowing stiffly, Yamato knelt before Masamoto, his injury preventing him
from the full respectful bow expected. Masamoto opened the first box and
withdrew its contents.
'You may recognize this daishō, Yamato-kun. They were Tenno's. It is
time you wore them, for you have proven yourself worthy beyond a doubt.'
With his two hands outstretched, grimacing against the pain, Yamato
accepted the katana and the shorter wakizashi sword. The two weapons
together made up the daishō, and were a symbol of the social power and
personal honour of a samurai. To be bestowed a daishō was an immense
privilege.
For a moment, Yamato could only gaze at them, their black lacquered
sayas hinting at the gleaming blades within. Yamato then resumed his place
alongside Jack and Akiko. Jack couldn't help but notice that Yamato's eyes
shone with immense pride.
'Akiko-chan, please kneel before Sensei Yosa. For it is she who wishes to
present your gift.'
Akiko got up and bowed deeply before Sensei Yosa.
'Akiko-chan, you have the eye of a hawk and the grace of an eagle,' said
Sensei Yosa, drawing her box nearer and tenderly removing several items.
'You deserve to carry my bow and arrows. Please accept these as a
recognition of your fine skills as a kyudoka.'
Akiko was almost too astounded to show her respect. She took Sensei
Yosa's tall bamboo bow and quiver of hawk feather arrows with trembling
hands.
'My bow has much to impart to you, Akiko-chan. As you know, a bow
holds within it part of the spirit of the person who made it. My bow is now
yours and I hope it will protect you as it has protected me.'
'Arigatō gozaimashita, Sensei,' breathed Akiko, holding the bow and
arrows with utmost reverence, and returned to her place.
'Lastly, we come to you, Jack-kun,' said Masamoto magnanimously.
'Who would have thought that the drowned wreck of a gaijin boy would
amount to so much? Your father, if he had survived, would surely be proud
of you this day.'
Jack's eyes suddenly felt hot with tears. The unexpected reference to his
father was almost too much and he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop
himself from crying.
'You have saved Yamato-kun's life,' continued Masamoto. 'Twice, if I
am not mistaken. You have learnt our language and honoured our customs.
And you have defeated Dokugan Ryu's murderous intent, not once, but
three times. If my daimyo had an army of boys like you, he could conquer
any land in a heartbeat. Come forward.'
Jack knelt and bowed respectfully in front of Masamoto.
All the sensei returned Jack's bow, Sensei Hosokawa and Sensei Yosa
both giving him serious yet approving nods of the head. Sensei Kyuzo
offered his typically curt acknowledgement, but Sensei Yamada beamed
warmly at Jack.
'You still have a great deal to learn, Jack-kun,' continued Masamoto,
suddenly serious. 'You are but a tiny bud. You have only laid the foundation
stone. Taken your first step. You still have a long road to travel on the Way
of the Warrior, but as I said in the beginning, we are here to help you make
that journey. I therefore present to you my first swords.'
By the stunned reactions of the sensei and the inward drawing of breath
from both Akiko and Yamato, Jack judged that this was a considerable and
unprecedented honour. Masamoto opened the last lacquered box that lay
before him and lifted out two formidable swords.
Unlike the Jade Sword, Masamoto's daishō were not overly decorated.
The sayas were pure shafts of black lacquer, the only embellishment an
inlay of a small golden phoenix emblazoned near the hilt. This was not a
piece of art or a sword for show. It was the weapon of a warrior.
'Jack-kun, the sword is the soul of the samurai,' said Masamoto with
great import, and presented the daishō to him, his amber eyes fixing Jack
with a stern stare.
'With the possession of such a weapon comes great responsibility,'
instructed Masamoto, not letting go of the swords so that now both he and
Jack held them. 'It must never fall into the hands of your enemy. And you
must always uphold the samurai principles of bushido. Rectitude. Courage.
Benevolence. Respect. Honesty. Honour. Loyalty. Do you understand?'
'Hai, Masamoto-sama. Arigatō gozaimashita,' replied Jack with
complete sincerity.
Jack took the swords from Masamoto and immediately felt his hands sink
under the weight of their responsibility. He bowed low and returned to his
place between Akiko and Yamato, the daishō by his side.
'Now that we have finished here, I ask you all to kindly leave, except for
Yamato-kun. I wish to spend some time with my son. We have much to
discuss,' said Masamoto, a smile brightening the unscarred side of his face.
Everyone bowed and respectfully departed from the Hall of the Phoenix.
Jack and Akiko wandered into the Southern Zen garden to wait for Yamato.
They stood between the two standing stones and stared in silence at the
night sky together. The moon was bright and gibbous, two days from
becoming a full moon, and the stars shone keenly in the heavens.
'See that star, the brightest one in the sky. That's Spica,' said Jack after
several moments had passed.
'Which one?' enquired Akiko. 'They all look the same to me.'
'Start from the handle of the Plough, the constellation above us, then
follow the arc to Arcturus and speed on to Spica,' said Jack, guiding
Akiko's eyes with the tip of his finger. 'Then the one over to its left we call
Regulus and the one next to that, Bellatrix. The twinkling one over here is
Jupiter, but that's not a star, that's a planet.'
'How do you know all this?' asked Akiko, turning to Jack.
'My father taught me. He said if I was to ever be a pilot like him, I would
need to know how to navigate by the stars.'
'And can you?'
'Yes. Enough to guide a ship back to port,' said Jack, then with a sad
longing. 'Possibly even enough to get home.'
'You still want to go home?'
Jack returned Akiko's gaze. The moonlight reflected in her jet-black
eyes, sending small shivers down his spine like shooting stars.
Yes, he did still want to go home. He missed England's green fields in
spring, and the cosy warmth of his parents' fireplace in winter where his
father would regale him with tales of daring sea voyages. He longed for the
rowdy chaos of London and the noise of street criers, cattle and hammering
blacksmiths. His stomach ached for beef, pies and bread thick with butter,
as much as his brain cried out to speak English to someone. But most of all
he missed his family. Jess was all he had left now. He needed to find her.
Make sure she was all right.
Yet, for the very first time, standing next to Akiko under the stars, Jack
felt like he could belong in Japan.
'Wherever it is you may be, it is your friends who make your world,' his
mother had told him when they had moved yet again between Rotterdam
and Limehouse due to his father's work. He was only seven at the time and
resented having to move, but now he understood what she meant. Here in
Japan, Jack had found friends. True friends. Saburo, Yori, Kiku, Yamato
and, most important of all, Akiko.
'Akiko-chan!' called a voice.
It was Sensei Yosa.
'May I have a moment of your time? I need to explain the particular
characteristics of your bow.'
'Hai, Sensei,' said Akiko, but before going she turned back to Jack. 'I
know you miss your home in England, Jack, but Japan can be your home
too.'
Then, with a warm gentle smile, she bowed and walked away down the
garden and was gone.
Jack stared up at the night sky, continuing to name each of the stars in his
head in an effort to quell his turbulent emotions and stop himself from
crying. His hand rested absently upon his new swords and he fingered the
hilt.
On an impulse, he withdrew his katana and held it up to the moonlight.
Admiring the deep graceful curve of its blade, he turned it in the air,
gauging its weight, judging its point of balance. It was too soon for it to
become an extension of his arm, like his lighter wooden bokken, but
nonetheless he felt confident enough to attempt a few cuts.
He sliced the moon in half, speared Bellatrix and cut off a shooting star.
Whirling round, he brought his kissaki up ready for another assault and
there was Dokugan Ryu. Standing in the darkness. Motionless. Waiting to
attack.
'Never hesitate.'
This time Jack wouldn't. He lifted the sword above his head and ran at
Dragon Eye to deliver the killing blow.
'Jack-kun!' cried Sensei Yamada from behind.
Dokugan Ryu turned to stone and Jack spun round.
'What are you doing?' asked the Zen teacher, leaning upon his walking
stick in the darkness, a quizzical look in his eyes.
'I was…' began Jack, glancing back at the standing stone, 'practising my
kata.'
'On a stone?'
'No, not really,' replied Jack, deflated. 'I was imagining it was Dokugan
Ryu. I was about to kill him. Get my revenge.'
'Revenge is self-defeating. It will eat away at you until there is nothing
left,' observed Sensei Yamada, speaking the truth as if it were as obvious as
the moon in the night sky.
'But he killed my father!'
'Yes. And he will undoubtedly pay for that sin, if not in this life then in
his next. But do not believe for one moment that possession of that sword
makes you all powerful. You must never forget your bushido. Rectitude,
your ability to judge what is wrong and what is right, is the keystone to
being samurai.'
He took Jack by the arm and led him slowly along the path towards the
old pine tree in the corner of the garden, its bough weighing heavily upon
its wooden crutch.
'Benevolence, your compassion for others, underpins all of them. There
is no place for anger or rage in the Way. In real budo, there are no enemies.
Real budo is a function of love. The Way of a Warrior is not to destroy and
kill, but to foster life.8
To protect it.'
He stopped by the old pine and faced Jack.
'Jack-kun, as Masamoto-sama said, you've only just begun to learn the
Way of the Warrior, but you must also learn the Way of the Sword. Kendo.'
Sensei Yamada smiled enigmatically, his sharp eyes twinkling like
miniature stars, then he disappeared into the veil of darkness beyond the
tree, leaving Jack all alone under a Japanese sky.
As Jack glanced up, a shooting star trailed across the heavens.
The little meteorite flared brightly then died, the path it had burnt in the
sky fading like the embers of a fire.
In that instant Jack was struck by a moment of satori, enlightenment as
bright as the star itself. He too was on a journey whose destination was
unknown and whose fate was uncertain. But he had set his course and there
was no going back.
He had chosen… the Way of the Warrior.