Sisters of the Sword Read online

  “I think I convinced her,” Tatsuya said to me in a low voice.

  “That you were a lord?” I said with a smile. “I should think so—you almost convinced me!”

  He grinned back at me. “No…,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I think I convinced her that you were beneath her notice. But I’d keep out of her way, just in case.”

  We kneeled down together with Hana. I closed my eyes, allowing my heartbeat to settle as I composed myself and summoned the energy that had consumed me the previous night.

  On the raised platform, Master Goku kneeled before the crowd and spread his arms wide. “I would like to welcome everyone to our tournament today,” he said. Turning to Uncle, he bowed low. “We are honored to have the presence of our new Jito, Lord Hidehira.”

  Hidehira smiled thinly and bowed back, red and gold robes rippling.

  “Many of you,” Goku went on, turning back to the crowd, “have come great distances to witness acts of incredible courage and skill. I have seen these boys in training and I guarantee that you will not be disappointed.” He gazed down at the students, folding his hands into his wide sleeves. “You will all fight honorably, as your training dictates.” The students all bowed their heads respectfully. Goku smiled and straightened up, his gaze sweeping the crowd once more. “Let the combat commence!” he exclaimed.

  We all bowed to the Jito, though I hated every moment of it. If it wouldn’t draw immediate rebuke and attention, I would have refused. Next, we bowed to Master Goku, and I did it with sincerity and humility.

  The competitors turned and formed a circle facing inward, and we all bowed to one another to show respect. Then the tournament had begun.

  My first fight went well. I was matched with Sato, who I had seen fighting with Ko a number of times. I knew his moves and was able to anticipate his low strikes and easily block his high slices. Soon I had him pinned to the sandy ground, my knee against his chest and the flat of my knife held against his throat. He slapped the ground twice to show that he submitted. Mister Choji was the referee and he held my arm high as the crowd applauded my win. I glanced toward the platform where Uncle was sitting. He was far away and I could only see the color of his robes, but with each successive win, I knew I would move closer.

  Soon it was Hana’s turn to fight. She won her first bout against a village boy easily, and then drew Tatsuya as her opponent in the jo round in the first fight area in front of the Jito. I hoped that Uncle would not recognize her, but I knew with Hana’s swift fighting movements, he would have a hard time getting a good look. Silence settled on the arena as the fighters bowed to each other and to the Jito, then they took their places.

  I watched as Hana let her weight settle evenly on both feet, centering herself. She held the wooden staff with both hands, her grip loose and easy, ready to slide along the shaft if necessary. She stared across the arena at Tatsuya. They measured each other for a moment.

  Abruptly Hana attacked, letting out a yell as she ran forward and brought her jo down hard. Tatsuya blocked her, and the two weapons knocked loudly. Twisting, Hana swiftly jabbed the end of her jo at Tatsuya’s stomach. Her feet slid through the white sand, moving quickly. Tatsuya deflected and danced around her, catching a glancing blow on the end of her jo.

  They brought their weapons back close to their bodies for a moment and stepped around each other warily. They both rolled their wrists as they squared up again, their weapons twirling in front of them.

  Tatsuya attacked suddenly, his jo spinning as he brought it down. Hana swiftly brought the jo over her head to block him, keeping her feet in a strong stance. A terrible clash tore the air, and I could see her arms were jarred.

  I bit my lip, willing her on as she pirouetted, shifting her hands along the polished wooden shaft to lunge again, feet dancing. But Tatsuya was quick. He moved in close and pushed one end of the jo behind one of Hana’s legs. With a quick twist of his wrist, he buckled Hana at the knee.

  Half kneeling, she grunted, her center of balance gone, and it was easy for Tatsuya to take her weapon from her. Hana had no choice but to concede.

  Choji stepped into the arena and declared Tatsuya the winner, holding his arm high. The crowd cheered and applauded, some of the younger students putting their fingers to their mouths and whistling. I was torn—pleased for Tatsuya that he had won his bout, but devastated to see Hana out of the tournament.

  Hana, however, was smiling and that made me feel a little better. She and Tatsuya bowed good-naturedly to each other and then turned to bow toward the Jito and Master Goku.

  “Just wait until we fight hand to hand,” Hana teased him as they resumed their positions next to me.

  “I think I would struggle to compete with your silent fists,” he responded with a warm smile.

  I fought again and again, beating boys who were older and more experienced than I. The crowd seemed to enjoy the fact that a servant was winning. They hammered their fists on the wooden benches and hooted their approval. On the other side of the courtyard, I could hear the crowd cheering on Ken-ichi’s victories as well.

  The sun moved higher across the sky. Gradually, through the morning, student after student was eliminated from the tournament, until just six remained. Tatsuya, Ken-ichi, and I were among them.

  Slowly an expectant hush fell on the crowd, and Master Goku stood up.

  “Friends and students,” he said. “This morning you have witnessed deeds of great skill. You have looked into the faces of future samurai and seen passion, discipline, and steely determination.” A buzz of agreement rose from the crowd. “The final round of combat will be a ya-awase, or archery duel, and we ask our great Jito, Lord Hidehira, to do us the honor of judging which contestant is the most skilled with a longbow.”

  I saw Ken-ichi look up in shock, and then shoot a furious glance at Tatsuya. Archery was Ken-ichi’s weak point, whereas we had all seen Tatsuya split arrow after arrow. And I had been training with the longbow, under Tatsuya’s direction, for many phases of the moon.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed for a steady hand.

  Hana helped me to strap a leather protector onto my forearm and a quiver of arrows across my back. “You can do this, Kimi,” she said softly. “Focus.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she added, “Do it for Moriyasu.”

  We all bowed in the direction of Master Goku and Lord Hidehira. Again, I gritted my teeth at having to bow to my treacherous uncle. Then we turned to make our way out into the middle of the fight area. I could see Ken-ichi in the middle of our little group. He was slightly behind Tatsuya, his shoulders broad beneath his leather shoulder padding. All around us, the crowd bubbled with excitement and a few of the younger students shouted encouragement.

  Without warning, Ken-ichi’s foot flashed out in front of Tatsuya and suddenly Tatsuya was falling. He tried to save himself by putting out his hand, but his body collapsed awkwardly and his arm bore the whole weight of the fall. As he landed, he cried out, the harsh sound echoing around the courtyard, and kneeled very still, clasping his shoulder. His face was white with pain.

  Instantly Ken-ichi bowed apologetically. “So sorry,” he said. “How clumsy of me!”

  Clumsy? I thought in a blaze of anger as I hurried across to crouch at Tatsuya’s side. Ken-ichi was never clumsy. This had been something else. He’d hated it last night when Master Goku said Tatsuya was the most improved student at the dojo. Terrified that Tatsuya might beat him in the archery competition, Ken-ichi had obviously decided to eliminate him. He certainly was his father’s son.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered to Tatsuya.

  He shook his head. “My shoulder is in agony,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  I tried to help him sit more comfortably. Around us, the crowd had been still for a moment. But now a few people hissed their disapproval at Ken-ichi.

  “Dishonorable conduct!” a man in blue silk robes exclaimed.

  Ken-ichi glanced up, swept the crowd with his arrogant
gaze. “What?” he cried. “Surely you don’t think—?” Disbelief swept across his face and he held his hands wide, palms upward, the picture of injured innocence. “It was an accident!”

  But I didn’t believe him, nor did the crowd. As a couple of older students hurried out to help Tatsuya out of the arena, a few people in the audience began to thump rhythmically on their wooden benches. A restless muttering began to buzz through the air.

  I heard a farmer say, “That was clearly deliberate,” while a woman cried, “Sabotage!”

  Master Goku slowly walked forward to the edge of the platform and raised his hands for silence. A muscle flickered in his cheek as he stared down at Ken-ichi. I straightened up, holding my breath. Was my cousin going to get away with his behavior? The thought made me boil up in outrage.

  “I saw what you did, and it was no accident,” Master Goku said to Ken-ichi. “You have deliberately injured a fellow student and prevented him from competing. This action brings dishonor upon yourself and upon the dojo.” He folded his hands inside his sleeves. “Therefore, you are disqualified from this tournament. Please step out of the arena, Kenichi.”

  Relief swept through me. This was justice.

  “No!” Ken-ichi cried, stepping toward the platform. “That’s not fair….”

  But Master Goku stood firm. “Step out of the arena, Ken-ichi,” he said again.

  Ken-ichi stayed where he was, a rebellious expression on his face. “I’m the Jito’s son,” he said. “No one can stop me from competing. Not even you, Sensei.” He turned to look at Lord Hidehira. “Father,” he appealed. “Tell him—”

  Lord Hidehira stared down at his son. His dark eyes glittered like black ice. “I will tell him nothing!” he snapped. “You are a fool, Ken-ichi. A stupid, childish puppy!”

  Ken-ichi turned white with horror. “Father, I beg you!”

  Lord Hidehira ignored him and turned to Master Goku. “A thousand apologies for this boy’s conduct, Master Goku. Punish him as you see fit.” Both men bowed low to each other, and when Hidehira straightened up his face was tightly controlled. He faced Master Goku for a moment longer, then he said, “I regret that I can no longer be the judge of this tournament because I have been shamed by the conduct of my son. I must leave now, and beg your forgiveness for any loss of face that Ken-ichi has brought upon your dojo.”

  I gazed in astonishment at Lord Hidehira as he swept across the platform, down the steps, and toward a troop of waiting samurai. My heart sank hopelessly as I realized my plan to challenge him openly had been foiled. Heads turned as the crowd watched him go, a breathless silence falling on the assembly. I caught Hana’s eye. She was standing at the edge of the competitors’ waiting area, her fists clenched as she watched the scene unfold. I wanted to go stand with her, but I didn’t dare draw attention to myself.

  Ken-ichi stayed where he was for a moment, then suddenly he launched himself forward, running after his father. “Father!” he cried. “Don’t leave! What happened was right and just. That boy, Tatsuya, is a peasant! You’ve always said that the peasants should be kept in their place….”

  Lord Hidehira wheeled around and glared at his son. “Your behavior would shame a peasant,” he said, his voice tight with fury. “You have heaped shame upon me and disgraced the name of Yamamoto. From this day, you are no longer the son of the Jito!”

  A gasp went up from the crowd. Hana and I exchanged a startled glance.

  Ken-ichi gaped at his father in horror. “No!” he cried. But it was too late. In a swirl of red and gold robes, Uncle disappeared into the midst of his waiting soldiers.

  Desperate, Ken-ichi stumbled forward, but the ranks of samurai closed behind his father, hands on the hilts of their swords. I had no doubt that they would cut him down if they had to.

  There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Ken-ichi wheeled around to stare at Master Goku. “This is your fault!” he said, his lips white with fury. “You did this…you accepted that stinking peasant into this school. He should never have been allowed to train among us.”

  “All students are equal,” Master Goku said, and he began to turn away. “Calm yourself, Ken-ichi.”

  “I will not be calm,” Ken-ichi spluttered. Leaping up the steps and onto the platform, he stood eye to eye with Master Goku. “I challenge you!” he said fiercely. “I challenge you to fight me, Sensei.”

  The crowd gasped. A challenge like that, once issued, could not be retracted. Astounded, I stared up at Ken-ichi. Hana put her hand up to her mouth.

  One of the students beside me shook his head. “No one has challenged the Master for years,” he muttered.

  “I do not accept your challenge,” Master Goku said.

  “You must,” Ken-ichi said staunchly. “I know the code of the bushi. No honorable challenge can be refused!”

  There was silence for a moment; then Master Goku bowed. “So be it,” he said, so quietly that I had to strain my ears to hear him. “But I urge you to allow a period of reflection and conversation before we choose our weapons. Will you come with me to the meditation room?”

  Ken-ichi hesitated for a moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “But don’t imagine that you’re going to talk me out of this duel. I fight for the honor of this school and the right to be educated with my own kind—not with filthy peasants!”

  “I hear what you say,” Master Goku said. With a sweep of his long robes, he made his way down from the platform and out of the courtyard.

  Ken-ichi followed behind him, but as he drew near to Choji he growled at the head servant, “Bring us some cha.”

  Choji glanced at Master Goku, his eyebrows raised as if unsure whether he should take orders from the disowned son of the Jito.

  Master Goku nodded. “Tea will refresh us,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Choji.”

  As they left the courtyard, the crowd stirred restlessly. Choji signaled to me. “Take the tea to the meditation room, Kagenashi,” he said. “And stay with Sensei in case he needs anything else.”

  I hurried across to Hana, who helped me unlace my sleeve armor and shoulder guards. “Ken-ichi doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she whispered. “It’s madness to challenge Master Goku!”

  My mind was in turmoil. The tournament was in chaos, and so was my plan to win and face Uncle openly.

  By the time I got to the meditation room, Kenichi and Master Goku were kneeling opposite each other. I bowed and approached the table with my tray of drinking bowls. Master Goku seemed hardly to notice me. He was composed and calm, his gaze resting lightly on Ken-ichi’s face. By contrast, my cousin simmered with rage. His shoulders were tense, his fists clenched.

  I set the tray on the table between them, bowed, and withdrew to a corner of the room to wait.

  “Ken-ichi, please pour the cha,” Master Goku said.

  “The student must serve the Master,” Ken-ichi muttered. His lip curled. “You’re thinking that perhaps this will calm me down. Well, it won’t, Sensei. Someone has to stand up for honor, duty, and tradition, and if I’m to be the one—so be it!”

  “You speak so freely of such ideals,” Master Goku said gently. “But you forget that a samurai is also bound by other rules. He must be humble; he must control his pride; and above all he must show tolerance of his fellow men.” He watched as Ken-ichi reached out to put green tea powder into the bowls. “I’m sorry that your father spoke so angrily to you. Would you like me to intercede?”

  “No!” Ken-ichi’s hands shook and the sleeves of his kimono fluttered across the rims of the tea bowls, almost tipping them. “I don’t want you to do anything on my behalf, Sensei. We will fight, and then my father will see that I’m worthy to be his son once more…and my honor will be restored!” As he said this, Ken-ichi caught Master Goku’s gaze with his own and held it. His usual grace and elegance seemed to have deserted him, and his hands fumbled clumsily as he added more tea to the bowls.

  He’s nervous, I thought. More than nervous, he’s frightened. But tha
t was hardly surprising. Ken-ichi had challenged Master Goku to a duel—a duel he would certainly lose.

  I gazed at my cousin sadly. There was no honor to be gained from fighting the Master.

  “Your father would think you a worthy son if you behaved like a samurai,” Master Goku said. “Accept responsibility for your actions. Apologize to Tatsuya, and put this episode behind you.”

  “Apologize to that peasant?” Ken-ichi spat. “Never!” He picked up a tea bowl and held it between his fingers, offering to Master Goku. “Drink your cha, Sensei. And we’ll toast your good health.”

  Master Goku accepted the tea bowl, bowed, and sipped. “This is a little bitter, Ken-ichi. Too much powder perhaps?”

  Ken-ichi shrugged, watching as Master Goku sipped again. “Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps you taste the bile of your own disappointment, Sensei. It must be galling to have had your precious tournament cut short.”

  “I am disappointed with you, Ken-ichi. Nothing else,” Master Goku said. He sipped again and then drained the bowl. “I give you one last chance to change your mind about the duel.”

  Ken-ichi shook his head and scrambled to his feet, his tea untouched.

  “A samurai never changes his mind,” he said. I knew that there was no going back when Ken-ichi spoke again. “Choose your weapon, Sensei!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Master Goku sighed. “If you insist, Kenichi. I choose the yari spear, an ancient and noble weapon of the battlefield.” With that, he rose to his feet and led Ken-ichi out of the meditation room.

  I paused to quickly tidy the table, wiping the tea bowls clean. One of them had green, gritty residue at the bottom and I frowned. How strange—green tea powder didn’t usually leave a residue…. I sniffed the bowl, noticing a bitter smell.

  Perhaps the green tea wasn’t very good quality? Who knew where it was coming from, what with all the food shortages since Uncle took over as Jito.

  I stacked the bowls carefully, leaving the table neat before I hurried back outside.