'You've captured the gaijin samurai!' cried the dshin in unison.

'Yes,' snapped Sensei Kyuzo impatiently. 'Now quit gawping and hand me your hayanawa.'

The dshin obediently passed him a short rope with a small loop on one end. Snatching it from the officer's grasp, Sensei Kyuzo dropped his full weight on top of Jack. With a knee pressed painfully into the small of his back, Jack was swiftly relieved of his swords and pack. Then, in a matter of seconds, he was trussed up with the hayanawa. His hands were bound behind him and the rope secured round his neck, so that if he struggled the hayanawa would choke him. Although still able to walk, Jack was otherwise powerless to fight back.

Sensei Kyuzo dragged him to his feet.

'Let's go, gaijin!' he ordered, shoving Jack down the road.

'Where are you taking me, Sen'

Sensei Kyuzo jabbed his thumbtip between Jack's ribs, sending a shockwave of pain through him.

'Less talking and more walking.'

As Jack recovered his breath and hobbled on, he finally figured out why his teacher was being so brutal in silencing him. Benkei had mentioned that certain samurai warriors who'd opposed the Shogun were being hunted down. Sensei Kyuzo must be trying to keep his past identity secret. Realizing he'd almost given the deception away twice, Jack now held his tongue. Besides, he had to trust Sensei Kyuzo. His taijutsu master was his sole hope of escaping this predicament alive. And, until he discovered what the plan was, he had no choice but to follow his teacher's lead.

Sensei Kyuzo and the two dshin escorted him along the main street to a large white building with a curving tiled roof. Steps led up to the entrance beside which a wooden sign read: Thanks to Akiko's patient teaching, Jack was able to translate the Japanese script. The sign proclaimed: Bugy of Oita District. Jack knew bugy meant magistrate. Above, a long golden banner hung from a rafter. Emblazoned in the centre was the circular mon of three hollyhock leaves the family crest of the Shogun.

Jack's blood ran cold at the sight. Not only had Sensei Kyuzo arrested him but he was now turning him over to an official of their mutual enemy. Had he been wrong to trust in his taijutsu master? It was true that they'd never seen eye to eye. From his very first lesson at the Niten Ichi Ry, Sensei Kyuzo had objected to teaching a foreigner the secrets of their martial arts. And he'd made little attempt to hide his personal hatred of Jack, bullying him at every opportunity. But, in spite of the bad blood between them, Sensei Kyuzo had ultimately proven to be loyal. During the Battle of Osaka Castle, he'd fought a group of ninja single-handedly sacrificing himself while Jack and Akiko had made their escape. Sensei Kyuzo was a true samurai. He would not break the code of bushido. Jack was certain of that.

A guard at the entrance waved them through. He stared open-mouthed at the appearance of the infamous gaijin samurai.

Slipping off their wooden geta at the top of the steps, Sensei Kyuzo led Jack down a corridor to a double set of fusuma doors. The two dshin followed close behind, their hands on their jutte at all times. After knocking respectfully, Sensei Kyuzo slid back the panel doors to reveal a stark white rectangular room with dark wooden ceiling beams. A shoji to their right was left ajar, through which the setting sun shone and gleamed off the polished woodblock floor. A cool evening breeze wafted in from the stone Zen garden outside, where a wind chime tinkled softly.

At the far end of the room, a portly man sat behind a desk studying some papers. Dressed in an ink-blue kataginu jacket with stiffened shoulders like wings, he exuded an air of authority and Jack assumed this was the bugy. Although the magistrate didn't look up, Jack noticed his jowls hung loose, seeming to merge with his neck. And his thinning hair was overly oiled and tied into a sparse topknot. A katana and wakizashi sat upon a display rack behind him, their sayas brightly polished and silk handles unblemished. At his side, an Akita hunting dog sat obediently to attention, regarding Jack with hungry eyes.

The magistrate didn't bother to acknowledge their entrance as Sensei Kyuzo marched Jack into the room. Halfway down, Jack was forced to his knees and made to bow his respects. Still the magistrate barely glanced up as he selected a fresh piece of paper and dipped a fine brush into an inkstone.

'Name?'

Encouraged by a rough prod from a jutte, he declared, 'Jack Fletcher.'

The magistrate started to inscribe the kanji characters before the foreign name fully registered. The bugy almost dropped his brush when he realized the Shogun's most wanted fugitive knelt before him.

12.

Trial 'How on earth did you catch the gaijin?' enquired the bugy.

'He was an accomplice to an illegal betting scam,' stated Sensei Kyuzo.

The bugy raised his pencil-thin eyebrows in surprise. 'So where are the other perpetrators?'

Sensei Kyuzo glared at the two dshin. 'There was only one other and he got away.'

The magistrate tutted disapprovingly. 'I don't like loose ends, but I suppose it's of little consequence at a moment like this.'

He wet his ink brush again and finished writing Jack's name on the paper.

'Was the gaijin carrying any belongings?'

Sensei Kyuzo nodded and one of the dshin presented the magistrate with Jack's swords and pack. The bugy inspected the weapons, then laid out the pack's contents on the table, making a meticulous inventory of all that he found. To Jack's consternation, the magistrate took particular interest in the rutter. Then with surprising care he repacked the bag and instructed the dshin to store the property in his private office.

Recharging his brush from the inkstone, the bugy now fixed his bulbous eyes on Jack.

'Before we attend to the greater matter at hand, we must first deal with your crime here,' he declared. He inscribed several more characters on the paper. 'Jack Fletcher, you've been arrested on the charge of illegal gambling.'

To his astonishment, Jack realized he was on trial. Already accused of high treason against the Shogun, he stood little chance of a fair hearing from this magistrate. He glanced up at Sensei Kyuzo, again wondering what his plan was.

Sensei Kyuzo stepped forward. 'Is it really worth trying the gaijin when he's already been sentenced to death by the Shogun?'

A flicker of annoyance passed across the magistrate's face. 'I'm the bugy for this town and it's my responsibility to see that law and order is maintained. This recent plague of gambling needs to be stamped out. We must set an example to all lawbreakers. None should escape the consequences of their crimes, including this gaijin. Now, are there any witnesses to the offence?'

The two dshin both bowed in acknowledgement.

'He whistled a warning,' stated one of them.

The magistrate made a note of this on the paper and seemed satisfied.

Without offering Jack the opportunity to plead his case, he declared, 'In my authority as bugy of Oita District, I pronounce you, Jack Fletcher, guilty as charged. In respect of the severity of your crime, you're sentenced to yubitsume.'

Jack had never heard this term before, but it didn't sound pleasant and a rising sense of panic gripped him.

'Is that wise?' interjected Sensei Kyuzo. 'The Shogun signed the warrant for the gaijin's arrest himself. He should be the one to administer the punishment. This judgment could have an adverse effect on the reward for his capture.'

'I, of all people, am aware of the reward, Renzo,' said the bugy firmly. 'Yet the Shogun would surely respect my duty to uphold his law. And I intend to carry it out to the letter. Besides, the gaijin will still be in one piece ... my mistake, two pieces!'

The bugy allowed himself a small grunt of laughter.

'But '

'Don't question my authority again,' said the bugy tersely, cutting off Sensei Kyuzo. 'Do as I say or I'll charge you with contempt. Carry out the punishment forthwith.'

Sensei Kyuzo fumed. Nonetheless, he submitted to his superior's will with a curt bow of the head. He gave instructions to the two dshin to bring in the block.

'If the gaijin wishes to act like a samurai, then he should be punished like one,' stated the bugy. 'Finger shortening is a fitting penance and one that would meet the Shogun's approval, I'm sure.'

Jack realized he was to be mutilated. Sensei Kyuzo's attempt at defence had failed. He had to escape, but, bound helpless, he was unable to avoid the imminent yubitsume.

The bugy settled back to watch the proceedings, giving his dog an affectionate pat on the head as a wooden chopping block was brought in and placed before Jack. One of the dshin laid a ceremonial white square of cloth on top and smoothed it flat.

Jack silently willed his teacher to make his move.

Without a word, Sensei Kyuzo unbound Jack's left hand and strapped it to the block, palm down.

'Hold him tight,' he ordered the two dshin.

Jack struggled, helpless in their grip. His throat went dry and his heart began to pound as Sensei Kyuzo unsheathed a razor-sharp tant. The lethal blade caught the last rays of the dying sun, burnishing the steel an ominous blood-red.

'Cut off the little finger,' instructed the bugy, his eyes bulging in cruel anticipation.

Sensei Kyuzo approached the block, his knife raised. Whatever his taijutsu master's plan, Jack knew this was the final chance to execute it. As the blade hovered over Jack's finger, Sensei Kyuzo caught his eye and grinned. Taking this as the signal, Jack readied himself for his taijutsu master to cut his bonds and for them to fight their way out.

The knife sliced down.

13.

Cell Crouched in the darkened cell, Jack clutched his wounded hand to his chest. The stump of his little finger throbbed like wildfire. Although the bleeding had stopped, Jack was pale and shaken from the experience.

He simply couldn't comprehend what Sensei Kyuzo had done to him. He'd watched in disbelief as his taijutsu master brought down the knife, the keen blade slicing through flesh and bone like butter, severing the tip of his little finger. Bizarrely, he could recall the steel feeling cool to the touch, before the nail and first knuckle were separated and dropped to the floor. For a moment, Jack felt nothing but numbing shock. Then a raging fire ignited in his hand as the pain registered and blood spurted across the white cloth. He'd screamed to block out the agony. But it shook him in wave after fierce wave.

'Stop whining, gaijin!' Sensei Kyuzo had snarled, wiping clean his knife. 'Show some samurai backbone.'

Somehow Jack managed to stifle his cries. But what had hurt him the most was that his teacher had done the deed with a smile on his face. Sensei Kyuzo had even wrapped the severed portion of the fingertip in the cloth and presented it to the bugy for inspection. Indifferent to Jack's suffering, the magistrate had merely logged an account of the punishment before sealing the court document for his records. He then put his brush aside and tossed Jack's fingertip into the expectant mouth of his hunting dog.

Sickened to the pit of his stomach, Jack barely heard the bugy as he determined his fate. The magistrate decided that Jack should be held in prison until the Shogun's samurai came for him. He then wrote a message and summoned a hikyaku to deliver it. The 'flying feet' courier was running before he even got out of the door. Only when the bugy noticed blood staining his highly prized woodblock floor did he send Jack to his prison cell.

Before they threw him in, one of the dshin bandaged his hand and tied a tourniquet round the stump of his little finger. Jack mumbled his thanks, but the dshin had just snorted, 'We don't want our "reward" dying on us from gangrene now, do we?'

Jack looked up at a small barred window. The silvery light of a waning moon cast its deathly pallor on to the dirt floor. The few stars he could spy seemed more distant than ever but still not as far away as England and his sister now felt.

His journey was over.

His hopes of reaching Nagasaki had been brought to a swift and agonizing end by his old taijutsu master. Jack couldn't believe Sensei Kyuzo would go to such lengths just to keep his identity hidden. But Jack had to face the hard truth. Sensei Kyuzo wasn't on his side. He'd been wrong to trust in the bushido code of loyalty. Sensei Kyuzo had never had any intention of saving him in fact, he seemed determined to be rid of him once and for all.

In the darkness, Jack heard the hunting dog scrabbling at the earth outside, no doubt lured by the prospect of a larger bone to gnaw on. In his injured state, Jack didn't hold out much hope of fighting his way out before the Shogun's samurai arrived. Although he wasn't crippled by any means, he'd be unable to control a sword properly. Until his hand had healed, he was like a tiger whose teeth had been pulled.

From the direction of the Zen garden, the jingle of the wind chime drifted into his cell. Aware that he had to do something positive to stop himself lapsing into despair, Jack focused his mind on the delicate sound. He meditated until the throbbing in his hand subsided. Then, under his breath, he began to chant the mantra for Sha: 'On haya baishiraman taya sowaka ...'

Sha was one of the nine rituals of kuji-in, the art of ninja magic. Combined with a secret hand sign and focused meditation, it would speed up the healing process. But Jack was under no illusion. Kuji-in couldn't bring his fingertip back. He'd be scarred for life. But at least it might mean he could grip a weapon far sooner.

With one hand out of action, Jack couldn't form the complete sign required for the ritual, so he just extended the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and held the palm over the bandaged wound. As he chanted, he sensed a tingle of warmth. But his stump was such a confusion of pain and numbness that he wasn't certain this was the result of kuji-in.

How he wished Miyuki was with him now. She was an expert healer, having tended to his injuries many times. Loyal, dependable and resourceful, she would have completed the healing and already be planning their way out of the cell.

If Saburo was here, Jack knew he'd be making some joke. Lightening the mood and keeping everyone's spirits up.

Then there was Yori. What Jack would do to hear some wise and comforting words from his dear friend. He'd probably say something like, 'Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.'

A sad smile passed across Jack's face at the memory of his friends. He keenly felt their absence. They'd each played a crucial part in his life. Together they'd been a team strong, courageous and seemingly invincible. Now he sat alone in a dark prison cell, injured and without hope.

But he daren't give up. His friends wouldn't have wanted him to.

Outside the dog stopped digging.

'Hey! Nanban!' whispered a voice from the barred window.

Jack glanced up to see a wild-haired silhouette against the moonlight.

'Benkei!' said Jack, amazed. 'You've come back?'

'Of course,' replied Benkei. 'I've got your half of the winnings here!'

14.

An Old Score Jack heard more scrabbling and realized the noise hadn't been the dog. A chink of moonlight shone through a crack in the cell's plaster wall. Then the iron tip of a leaf-shaped blade appeared and the gap widened.

'Give it a kick,' hissed Benkei from the other side.

Sitting on the floor, Jack thrust his heel at the loose plaster. It fell away to reveal a hole gouged into the wattle-and-daub wall. The opening was barely big enough for Jack. But, with Benkei's help, he scrambled through and soon stood next to him in the courtyard.

'What happened to you?' asked Benkei, noticing Jack's bloody bandage.

'I had a run-in with an old sensei,' said Jack, brushing the plaster from his kimono with his good hand. 'So how did you get away?'

'A quick costume change,' replied Benkei, who was now dressed in an unassuming brown kimono. With a flourish, he revealed his jacket's multicoloured interior. 'I simply turned it inside out and hid in the barn until nightfall. That's where I found this kunai.'

He held up the farmer's digging tool a blunt broad-bladed knife with twine wrapped round the shaft for grip.

'We should keep that,' said Jack. 'A kunai makes a good weapon.'

'Then you have it,' said Benkei, passing him the tool. 'I'm no fighter.'

With an accepting nod, Jack slipped the kunai into his belt.

From an outbuilding came the sound of raucous laughter and drunken singing.

'The dshin are celebrating your capture,' sniggered Benkei, picking up a large bag and heading out of the yard. 'Let's go! I've already bought our supplies.'

Jack shook his head. 'I have to get my swords and pack first.'