'And it was a good thing that I dropped in too,' jested Benkei, popping his head out from behind a bush. 'Without me, you'd be dead by now.'

'True,' said Jack, glancing at the unconscious Nobu. 'And you hit the bullseye!'

He turned back to Kazuki, crumpled on the ground, then looked at Akiko. 'What about Kazuki's vendetta against you?'

Akiko shook her head, untroubled. 'With all his gang abandoning him, he's a scorpion without a sting.'

A low, weak chuckle bubbled from Kazuki's lips.

'What's so funny?' demanded Jack.

'Your efforts not mine are all in vain!' he said, giving Jack a hard cold stare. 'The Shogun's samurai are on their way.'

59.

Palanquin Four samurai in gold-and-black armour stood over Miyuki's lifeless body. A trail of corpses led from the alleyway to where she'd fallen in battle in the middle of the street. Jack and his surviving friends hid within the entrance to the inn.

'We should have gone back to save her,' said Jack, his vision blurring with tears.

'How could we?' said Saburo. 'We were all fighting for our lives.'

'And we wouldn't be here now,' Akiko reminded him, 'if Miyuki hadn't been so brave.'

'The blossom may fall, but the tree survives,' said Yori, planting his staff between them.

Following Yori's gesture, Jack, Akiko, Saburo and Benkei gripped the shakuj as one and bowed their heads in silent prayer.

The sound of horses' hooves made them look up.

'We'd better go,' said Akiko as more of the Shogun's samurai arrived at the burnt-out bridge.

With one last grieving look in Miyuki's direction, Jack followed his friends through the inn and across the garden. As they headed for the back gate, he spotted a gardener's straw sunhat and grabbed it.

'You can run, but you can't hide, gaijin,' wheezed Kazuki, a malicious glint in his eyes.

'Save your breath for living,' replied Jack and closed the gate on his rival, who they'd left bound to the cypress tree along with the dazed Nobu.

Keeping low, they evaded any patrolling ronin and escaped the death-trap village. Once they were a safe distance, Akiko whistled twice and Snowball galloped from the fields to reunite with them. Much to Jack's relief, his pack and its precious contents were still tied to the saddle.

Exhausted, injured and bleeding, they embarked on their final dash for Nagasaki, praying they could reach the port before the Shogun's samurai caught up with them.

'How much further?' asked Jack, breathing hard as they raced along the dirt road.

'If I'm right, the main road from Fukuoka should be over that next hill,' Benkei panted, hobbling slightly from the arrow wound to his rear. 'And then it's no more than five ri.'

Jack rammed the straw hat on to his head; it was proving too small for him and threatened to fall off. He grimaced as he lowered his sword arm. His injuries from the duel were mercifully only flesh wounds, but still painfully raw and seeping blood.

Yori limped alongside him, aided by his staff. He winced with every step of his blistered feet, but made no complaint. Akiko, the most gravely injured among them, trotted behind on the back of Snowball. Saburo followed last, keeping a lookout for any sign of their pursuers. Since leaving the inn, they'd paused only to apply a fresh bandage to Akiko's shoulder, eat the last of their supplies and drink from a stream. Ragged and battleworn, they looked like refugees of war. And, as they passed farmers in the fields and other travellers on the road, they were greeted by barely suppressed gasps of astonishment and given a wide berth.

But being noticed was the least of their concerns now. They simply needed to make a run for it.

Joining the main road to Nagasaki, they encountered more foot traffic as the route wound through the last knot of hills and valleys towards the coast. Akiko led the way. Her samurai status and the fact she was on horseback cleared a path through the stream of farmers, pilgrims and merchants headed for the port. On either side of the road, tea houses sprang up at each milestone and small food stalls offered welcome refreshments to the weary travellers. With the blazing sun giving no respite from its glare, the establishments were doing a roaring trade.

But Jack and his friends didn't dare stop to eat or rest again. Hounded by the unseen force of samurai, they pressed on.

As they crested a rise, the view opened out into a long, narrow bay. The large natural harbour was bounded on either shore by a ruckle of steep green hills and the late afternoon sun shimmered like silver across its still waters. A busy port filled the flatlands of the bay before fanning out into the tucks and crevices of the surrounding hills.

'Nagasaki!' exclaimed Jack, unable to believe they'd actually made it.

Protected from storm and wave, the bay was a haven for ships of all kinds large and small, fishing and merchant, ocean and coastal, Japanese and Chinese and ... European. There were so many different boats nestled in the harbour that Jack thought an armada had arrived. Only a few were ocean-going galleons, but one of them had to be English.

His pace became urgent. But Akiko pulled on her reins and brought Snowball to a sudden halt.

'There's a checkpoint ahead,' she said.

At the end of the road, a wooden-gated entrance marked the port's boundary. A unit of guards was meticulously checking permits.

'How will we get past them?' said Yori.

Jack looked towards the surrounding hillsides, but any such approach would easily be spotted by a sharp-eyed guard, and then there was the high boundary wall to negotiate. Their only other alternative was to wait until nightfall, but the Shogun's samurai were bound to reach Nagasaki and find them before dusk came.

'Why don't we carry Jack through in style?' Benkei suggested, pointing to a palanquin parked outside the last tea house.

The enclosed wooden seat, mounted on two poles for carrying, was fancy and ostentatious. Decorated with black lacquered wood and gilded with flowers and birds, the palanquin clearly belonged to an aristocrat of some importance. Inside were soft plush cushions, but the seat was empty, its owner dining within the tea house. The four bearers were fast asleep under a tree, exhausted from the heat of the day and their exertions. Despite wearing just loincloths, their bronzed bodies still glistened with sweat.

'Palanquins are for high officials only,' reminded Akiko.

'Exactly,' Benkei replied with a grin. 'And they don't need travel permits.'

Jack and his friends immediately grasped Benkei's plan.

'We can't steal from a high official,' exclaimed Yori.

'Technically, it's not stealing,' Benkei assured with a wink. 'Just borrowing.'

'But how are we going to carry it? We won't pass as bearers,' said Saburo.

'Perhaps we can help?' said a familiar voice.

Jack and the others spun to discover the old farmer Takumi standing unexpectedly behind them. He was accompanied by four younger men from the Christian village they'd saved.

'What are you doing here?' exclaimed Jack.

Takumi bowed. 'We prayed as you asked and the Lord spoke to us. He told us to follow.'

'A god who foresees need is a powerful one indeed,' remarked Yori.

'Our prayers were answered when you came to our rescue.' Takumi smiled. 'True faith can move mountains.'

'Well, can it move a palanquin?' said Benkei, hurriedly beckoning them over to the tea house.

With no time to waste, Jack clambered inside the palanquin and slid the ornate door shut. The four farmers, having stripped to their waists, lifted the seat by its poles and hurried down the road before any of the official bearers awoke. Once again Akiko took the lead, her samurai armour and horse adding status to the ragtag entourage. Yori, Saburo, Benkei and Takumi brought up the rear as loyal followers.

Hidden inside the swaying palanquin, Jack peeked through a gap in the door. They were approaching the gate. Everything now relied upon the impression of high status.

A guard held up his hand. The farmers slowed to a stop.

'What happened? Where's the rest of your escort?' the guard demanded, peering suspiciously at the palanquin.

'We were attacked by bandits,' Akiko explained, indicating her wounded shoulder. 'Many lost their lives, but thankfully our master is safe.'

The guard nodded gravely at such honourable sacrifice.

'What are you waiting for?' challenged Akiko. 'Send out a detachment immediately!'

She gave the command with such authority that the guard jumped.

'And be warned,' she added, 'the bandits are disguised as the Shogun's samurai.'

The guard's eyes widened in shock at this news. He bowed in acknowledgement of the order, then waved them on. The farmers bore the palanquin through the gate and into the port.

60.

Flag Jack had finally arrived.

After more than a year of running, hiding and fighting for his life, he'd reached his destination. Nagasaki. He just hoped that it would offer the salvation he'd been praying for all this time.

As he peered out from the palanquin, he caught glimpses of the bustling port. They were heading along the main street towards a bridge that spanned the Nakashima River. Women in brightly coloured kimono hurried to and fro. Traders called out their wares exotic spices from Java, ivory from India, silk from China and foods from all four corners of the known world. There was a lively, relaxed atmosphere to the place, as if the outside influence of foreigners had diluted the traditional Japanese formality and injected a vibrant, almost rebellious spirit. Jack even spotted a Catholic church, although its doors were boarded up.

'That was clever of you, Akiko,' remarked Saburo. 'If we're lucky, that ploy should delay the Shogun's samurai.'

'It might even give us a chance to escape once Jack's on-board his ship,' said Benkei with a grin.

'Don't speak too soon,' replied Akiko, hearing a shout from behind.

'STOP! THIEVES!'

A portly aristocrat with four panicked bearers came lumbering down the hill towards the gate.

'THAT'S MY PALANQUIN!'

The gate guards spun round and glared at the disappearing entourage. Several immediately gave chase.

'GO!' cried Saburo.

The farmers pumped their legs, clattering across the wooden bridge. Jack was thrown around inside the palanquin as they barged through the crowd. But the streets were thronging with people, and, even with Akiko on her horse, their progress was hampered. The guards, on the other hand, wielded their swords with abandon, scattering the crowd and clearing a path through.

'Get out, Jack!' Akiko ordered, quickly dismounting Snowball, realizing she was too visible.

The farmers dumped the palanquin on the ground and Jack leapt out. 'Thanks for your help,' he said.

'Don't worry, we'll draw the guards away,' said Takumi.

'Then take Snowball to attract their attention,' Akiko suggested, handing Takumi the reins as Jack and the others snatched their packs from the saddle. 'But I'll be back for him.'

Bowing a hurried farewell, Takumi and the four farmers disappeared down a side street with the stallion in tow. In an attempt to throw off the guards, Jack and his friends went the opposite way, taking to the warren of alleys that circled the harbour. They switched right, then left, before cutting across another bridge. Behind, their pursuers were shouting for them to stop. They passed beneath a fire-red gateway, golden dragons adorning its green-tiled eaves. Hundreds of yellow lanterns festooned with red streamers floated above their heads. As they ran, Jack noticed all the inhabitants in this district were Chinese. Their eyes widened in shock as the five fugitives careered past.

Akiko broke left and darted inside a temple. The chaos of the port was suddenly replaced by the tranquil chime of bells, heady wafts of incense and the incantation of praying monks. Respectfully avoiding the central shrine, the five of them dashed through to a backstreet. They crossed a small stone bridge out of Chinatown and headed for the harbour. But the alley they chose came to an abrupt end. Backtracking, they heard the shouts of their pursuers drawing closer. They ducked inside a darkened warehouse and waited for them to pass.

No one spoke, their hearts racing and lungs burning.

The guards shot by.

Bolting from their hiding place, Jack and his friends took the opposite alley, then bore right. A few turns later, they emerged by the harbour side. The quay was crammed with fishing boats, Chinese junks and cargo ships. Warehouses swarmed with deckhands and port workers loading and unloading barrels. The hubbub of activity meant that their sudden appearance went unnoticed. Jack's eyes scanned the port for the galleons. The enormous multi-decked ships were easy to spot. Their distinctive castle-like design, heavy cannon and square-rigs set them apart from the Eastern-style flat-keeled boats with their batten sails. Jack spied three galleons in the bay almost immediately.

But his heart sank like a stone. None flew the British flag. They all boasted the stark white rectangle and golden coat of arms of his country's sworn enemy, Portugal.

Jack collapsed to his knees in despair. Benkei had been right. Only the Portuguese traded out of Nagasaki. He was doomed. All his friends' efforts and sacrifices were for nothing, his dream of returning home to Jess no more than that just a futile dream.

'What's wrong?' asked Akiko, kneeling beside him. 'They're galleons, aren't they?'

Jack nodded. 'But they fly the Portuguese flag,' he explained. 'They'd sooner take me prisoner than take me home.'

Yori looked out beyond the mouth of the bay towards the distant sea. 'An English ship will turn up soon, Jack ... I'm sure of it.'

'Yes,' Saburo agreed readily. 'And we can protect you until one arrives.'

Jack turned to his friends, their unwavering belief in him only highlighting the cruel truth.

'That could be years,' he said, resigning himself to his fate. 'This is the end of the road. You got me here, alive, and I'm grateful for that. But you can't hide me from the Shogun's samurai forever. And I can't allow you to keep risking your lives for me.'

'No!' exclaimed Yori, defiant tears brimming in his eyes. 'We'll find another way. Another ship '

'What flag's that?' interrupted Benkei, pointing towards a mast at the far end of the quay.

Protruding above the roofline of a large warehouse were four tall masts another galleon. Atop the main fluttered a banner with red, white and blue horizontal stripes.