Chasing the Secret Read online

  Without the hairpin her long hair had come loose, flowing down to her waist like a cloak of rippling black silk. Our eyes locked and sudden realization seemed to lance through Hana’s mind. It would be clear to anyone who looked that she was a girl.

  For a moment Hana stood motionless. Then she dropped her sword and reached for her long hair, scooping it up, desperately trying to twist its rippling length back into a topknot.

  I had to help her before anyone saw!

  I grabbed my sword and dashed through the chaos toward my sister. Another samurai reared up in front of me, snarling like a mad dog. I leaped to the side and pushed all my strength through my right leg to deliver a hard-edged kick to his chest.

  The samurai staggered backward and I ran on, ducking beneath a sword on my left, a short spear on my right. Power seemed to hum through my limbs. My ears rang with the clashes of metal around me.

  I reached Hana just as a roar ripped the air above our heads.

  “Traitor!” shouted my uncle Hidehira.

  Breathless, I looked back to see that he had turned around and was pointing at Hana. His face was a mask of rage and triumph. His narrow eyes glittered dangerously.

  “Seize that girl!” he bellowed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shock rippled through the temple as monks and samurai looked in the direction Uncle Hidehira was pointing. Several students gaped at Hana’s waist-length hair.

  “A girl?” someone gasped. “But who is she?”

  “Her name is Yamamoto no Hana,” roared Uncle Hidehira. “And she is a traitor!”

  I caught a glimpse of Ko, gaping in shock. Beside him, Sato recovered quickly from his surprise. His face broke into a gleeful grin.

  Just then, Uncle Hidehira’s glance flickered to me. Recognition washed across his hard features, swiftly followed by triumph. “Standing beside Hana is her elder sister, Kimi. They are fugitives; seize them now!”

  The priest gasped. “They are the daughters of the old Jito!”

  Now everyone knew who we were, and the threat we could represent to Uncle.

  Hana reached out and touched my fingers gently, gripping her sword in her other hand. Like our older brothers who had perished before us, we would fight to the death rather than be taken by Uncle Hidehira and his men.

  The last of the mourners hurried out of the temple at the promise of more bloodshed.

  Hana and I stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons raised. A tight formation of Uncle Hidehira’s soldiers moved toward us from the front. I slid my right foot back and centered myself. We were ready to face them.

  But suddenly more samurai stood ready behind us! I had no time to act defensively before I felt a strong arm wrap around me to pin my arms to my sides, my sword dangling uselessly.

  I struggled wildly, bitter frustration pouring through me.

  “Keep still,” grunted the samurai who held me captive, and I felt the cold, sharp kiss of a tanto dagger at my throat. “One move and I slit your throat.”

  My hope faded.

  Beside me, Hana was also being held by one of Uncle’s men with the tip of a knife pricked beneath her chin. We were doomed.

  From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Tatsuya. He was standing in front of Uncle Hidehira, legs braced as he held his sword in an attack position—a two-handed grip, elbows high and sword tip pointing to the ceiling. A group of other students and servants were gathered around him like a small army. I saw Ko, his dark eyes fierce. Next to him was Sato. He had snatched up a long-handled brass staff and was holding it like a jo.

  “Your guards are all over there,” Tatsuya said loudly to Uncle, nodding his head in our direction. “Which leaves you alone and outnumbered, Lord Steward.”

  I saw Hana watching Tatsuya with admiration. I felt proud that he was our friend.

  “Do you think you are better than me, little boy? Attack me if you dare,” Uncle Hidehira said coldly. He swept the assembled students with a piercing glare. “Which of you will be first to die on my blade?”

  A few of the students cast doubtful looks at one another, but Tatsuya, Ko, and Sato held their positions.

  Uncle Hidehira sneered. “Traitors,” he said. “Death is coming for you…and you…and you…” The students flinched as he jabbed his sword at each of them in turn. “If you survive today you’ll be executed for daring to attack your lord. Do you want to heap that shame upon your families?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation. One of the students met my gaze and looked away in shame. Then they lowered their weapons and backed away, their bravado gone.

  “Get out of my sight,” Uncle Hidehira snarled and sheathed his sword. The students fled, but Tatsuya, Ko, and Sato did not move.

  I watched the others disappear through the doorway of the temple, my heart aching. But I couldn’t blame them for running away. It was no easy thing to rebel against a Jito.

  Uncle Hidehira stood motionless, his right hand resting dangerously on his sword hilt, ready to draw in the blink of an eye. He stared at Tatsuya, daring him to attack. Our friend gazed back at him coolly. I knew that if Hana and I were to have any chance, we had to break free now, while Uncle’s attention was on Tatsuya.

  I glanced at Hana. She gave a sharp nod. Hana let out a yell and twisted free from her captor. Immediately I jabbed my elbow straight into the gut of the soldier who was holding me. As he bent double with pain, I reached up and seized the arm he was using to hold me. With a sharp, swift movement, I stepped backward and then wielded his arm like a sword, using his own weight to throw him into another samurai who had realized what I was doing and was leaping forward to attack.

  “Don’t let them escape, you fools!” bellowed Uncle Hidehira furiously.

  Tatsuya, Ko, and Sato cast us startled glances, but almost immediately Ko leaped across the room with a wild yell. He unleashed a fierce side kick that took the nearest samurai by surprise and sent him flying.

  “Run,” Sato yelled at Hana and me as he fought two samurai at once. “Run, both of you, while you have the chance.”

  Uncle Hidehira let out a terrifying battle cry and slashed his sword at Tatsuya, who evaded him with a swift twist away. Tatsuya swept his own blade upward and brought it down in a hard diagonal slice. There was a clash of steel on steel as Uncle Hidehira blocked him.

  “Run!” Tatsuya yelled, twisting away from Uncle Hidehira for a moment. “Now!”

  I hesitated, torn between the need to escape and the need to stay and fight with my friends. But the thought of Uncle’s samurai riding to Mount Fuji to capture my mother pulled me away.

  Hana seized my arm. “Come on,” she cried. We thrust our swords back into our scabbards and together we ducked under the clawing hands of Uncle’s samurai, racing across the temple. As we passed the altar, I caught sight of the urn, wrapped in white cloth. My heart ached at the thought of Master Goku’s bones being crushed beneath the feet of Uncle Hidehira’s army. I couldn’t leave the sensei’s remains there.

  My hand shot out and I grabbed the urn. Cradling it in my arm, I raced with Hana to the doorway of the temple. Outside, we took the steps at a flying run, dashing past horror-struck monks. The sun was in our eyes and Hana flung up one hand, dazzled.

  A shout went up behind us. “After the girls!” Uncle Hidehira roared.

  “This way,” I said, praying that Tatsuya wouldn’t fall by my uncle’s hand. I hurtled across the gravel path, scrabbling to sheathe my sword one-handed as I headed for the forest. Hana was at my heels. Tiny stones crunched beneath our feet. Shadows closed around us as the trees blocked out the sunshine.

  I could hear a group of samurai crashing after us as we plunged through the undergrowth. We varied our course—moving left, then right, then left again. I gripped the urn tightly in the curve of my arm, my hand wrapped around it. My sword in its scabbard beat against my leg.

  Behind us, Uncle Hidehira bellowed like an angry bull. He must have come out of the temple to stand at the top of the steps because his voi
ce now echoed loudly through the forest. “Bring them down,” he yelled, “but do not kill them. Bring them back to me alive.”

  Why does Uncle want us alive? I wondered, and instantly knew that it was so he could have the satisfaction of killing us himself.

  “Run faster, Kimi,” Hana urged breathlessly.

  She grabbed my hand and held it tight. Together we leaped over tangled undergrowth and darted around trees. Branches whipped at our faces. Coarse grass slashed our feet. As we went deeper into the heart of the forest, shadows loomed on either side and the scent of pine was strong.

  Uncle’s voice faded, but his samurai were so close behind us that I could hear the banging of their armor and weapons. How many of them were there—six, ten? Hoarse voices shouted commands: “Over there!” and “Split up…go left.”

  Hana and I went right, curving away from the samurai. I could hear them crashing away to our left. Dead branches snapped loudly under their sandals.

  But we were getting away! We broke out of the trees and into a clearing on the hillside, a grassy glade dappled with sunlight.

  My breath rasped hot in my chest and my mind plunged this way and that. What should we do—keep going? Or try to hide and pray that the samurai kept on going, chasing shadows through the forest?

  Insects buzzed in the still air. A dead branch snapped behind us, too close, and I knew then that someone was coming. Fear lanced through me.

  “There’s nowhere to hide,” I whispered to Hana.

  “We must go on,” she whispered back, a determined look on her face. “We can’t let them capture us, Kimi, or there will be no one to warn Mother and Moriyasu about Uncle’s trap.”

  If we didn’t get to Mount Fuji, all hope would be lost. I clutched the urn tighter. It was so bulky. As we launched ourselves across the clearing, I risked a glance back over my shoulder. One of Uncle Hidehira’s samurai soldiers was rushing up behind us, his face as hard as steel, his dark eyes full of murder.

  “No,” I yelped, and plunged forward, grabbing Hana and taking her with me.

  We hurtled across the glade toward a weeping willow tree on the far side. Beyond its drooping branches, I could see an open pathway, snaking through the trees, heading down the hillside. Hana and I could run fast, maybe even outrun the samurai in his heavy armor.

  But just as hope began to soar, I caught a glimpse of something large and dark breaking from the shadows to my left. A second samurai! And there a third!

  Quickly Hana and I veered right, away from them. At once, another soldier came racing in toward us from that side, too. We were pinned on three sides….

  I curved back to the left, dragging my sister along with me. I fixed my gaze on the willow tree and the promise of that clear path. We had to get there. We must! We had one last chance—get beyond the willow and run for our lives.

  But up ahead, two more samurai stepped out from behind the drooping branches of the willow. The long curving horns on their iron helmets caught a shaft of sunlight that slanted down through the trees as they barred the way.

  We stopped running then, trapped, outnumbered. I could hear the six samurai breathing hard, and the creak of their leather armor as they moved in closer. Closer…closer…so close I could smell them—their sweat, the stinking grease they used under their armor to keep lice at bay.

  I let the urn in its white cloth wrapping slip down my body, rolling it gently until it rested in the long grass at my feet. Six pairs of samurai eyes were fixed on my face.

  “No tricks, girl,” muttered their leader. “Give yourself up quietly, and the Jito may show you mercy….”

  “The Jito knows no mercy,” I replied, stepping forward away from the urn. Hana and I unsheathed our swords in the same breath.

  Steel whispered in the clean bright air as we took a firm stance. We held our weapons ready. Hana shook her long hair back. Her face was determined.

  My heart slowed and I felt power humming through my limbs.

  There was a moment of silence. Peace seemed to settle on the grassy glade. Then all six samurai were upon us, yelling wildly, whirling their swords around their heads as they unleashed a storming attack. Sunlight flashed on steel as I deflected first one blow and then the next. Beside me Hana knocked away a third.

  I sliced my sword wide to the right and brought it back fast, dancing on the tips of my toes as I slashed upward, then down, meeting an attacking blade with every movement. My heart raced.

  “Haaiii!” The fearsome yells of the six samurai filled our ears as the men attacked.

  One of the samurai swept low with his sword, aiming for my ankles. I leaped up over his blade, slashing my own nihonto across his stomach. The resistance of his hard leather armor saved his life, but my sword sliced a deep gash in it. I caught a glimpse of red blood, and hope flashed through me. But there was no time for triumph because the samurai came right back at me, eyes flashing like a demon. Our blades crossed and twisted as I put up a high block.

  From the corner of my eye I glimpsed Hana, buckling under the onslaught of two samurai blades, and I knew the situation was turning against us. We would be captured and taken to Uncle—and he would dispatch us both, grinning with triumph.

  As my thoughts distracted me, the samurai I was fighting ducked under my attack and rushed, grabbing me by the neck. I couldn’t breathe. Blood roared in my ears and black spots danced across my vision.

  Mother! I cried silently, my heart aching, for there would be no one to warn her now.

  Suddenly a loud battle cry tore the air and something flashed near my head.

  An arrow! It buried itself in a narrow gap in the samurai’s armor, where shoulder guard met breastplate.

  Releasing his grip on my throat, the samurai howled and staggered backward. Without hesitation, I recovered my balance and plunged my sword quickly into the slit I had already made in his armor, opening his stomach with a spurt of blood.

  As the samurai fell to the ground, I swung around to see where the arrow had come from.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Tatsuya came bursting out of the shadows at the edge of the glade, a longbow in his hand and a handful of arrows bristling in his sash. He must have snatched them from one of Uncle’s guards.

  Even as he ran, Tatsuya was fitting another arrow to the string and drawing back.

  With a savage yell, he loosed a second arrow and then a third.

  The shafts flickered through the air. I ducked, and one arrow flew above my head to hit a second of the samurai soldiers, one that was fighting Hana. Its lethal tip pierced his throat.

  The samurai’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Then he pitched forward and fell facedown at Hana’s feet. The next arrow took a slice from a third samurai’s cheek, and the next came flying low to bury itself in another samurai’s thigh.

  Two men were dead and another two wounded, with two more left to fight.

  But Tatsuya was out of arrows. With a muttered curse, he tossed the longbow into the grass and drew his sword. He leaped at the samurai with the wounded cheek, blade held high, bringing it around in a swinging cut as if he would slice the man’s head from his shoulders. The warrior stepped sideways to avoid Tatsuya’s strike, but as he half turned, he accidentally opened himself up to me.

  I struck hard, putting all my power through my sword arm. My blade slashed cleanly through the gap between two plates of armor. The samurai gasped for breath and dropped to his knees, dying.

  One of the others came in fast from my left, blade raised above his head. I quickly blocked, and as our blades clashed, blood smeared on the steel. I braced myself, dropped my shoulder, and shoved hard. The samurai staggered backward. Behind him, Tatsuya pulled back the man’s helmet. The hilt of his sword flashed up into the samurai’s temple, knocking him unconscious.

  Only two samurai remained, but one was badly injured by the arrow in his leg and I knew we could defeat them now. Hana was fighting hard, her sword flashing as she slashed and swiped. Her opponent
was a tall man, a powerful fighter who had so far avoided being wounded, and he was driving my sister backward.

  Swiftly Hana pivoted, and as the samurai’s momentum carried him forward, she stepped in behind him. He was startled as she simply placed one hand on his shoulder, and pulled him backward and down. He toppled easily, and she turned again, slicing across him with her blade. Crimson blood gushed from his body.

  Hana’s face was turned away and all I could see was the curve of one pale cheek half-hidden by a halo of black hair, as the samurai let out his last cry.

  And then there were no more samurai left to fight. Bodies lay all around and insects hummed in the air around my face.

  The only movement was from the samurai with Tatsuya’s arrow in his thigh. With a bellow of pain, he pulled the shaft out, then staggered to his feet and half ran, half limped across the glade away from us.

  When he reached the tree line, he turned and snarled, “There is no escape from the Jito. Lord Hidehira will track you down and kill you!” Then he vanished into the shadows.

  “I’m trembling,” Hana whispered, holding out a shaking hand.

  I looked at my sister, and the realization that we had just escaped our uncle for a second time flooded over me. “We’ve escaped, Hana,” I said, and grabbed my sister into a fierce hug.

  Then I turned to Tatsuya. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You saved our lives, Tatsuya,” Hana put in, her face glowing as she looked up at him.

  Tatsuya slipped his sword back into its scabbard and gave a little bow. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said. “We’re friends. More than friends.” He clasped his fist in front of his chest and bowed his head for a moment. “I pledge you my loyalty for as long as it takes for you to restore honor and goodness to the title of Jito of these estates.”

  The image of Tatsuya crossing swords with Uncle flashed in my mind. “But how did you get away?” I asked.

  Tatsuya looked triumphant. “Ko and Sato took down two of the samurai and escaped out of the back of the temple.”