Rose held up a hand in her defence. ‘Sorry! Just saying, though, you’ve a greater chance when there are people actually around.’

‘I’ll keep watch,’ Yori offered. ‘I can stay here and meditate.’

Jack turned to his friend, who sat on the ground, his shakujō across his lap. ‘But how will you spot her with your eyes closed?’ he asked.

‘I can meditate just as well with my eyes open,’ Yori replied. ‘In fact, your sister would be a good focus for my meditation. Meanwhile, the focus of your training would be good for you,’ he suggested gently. ‘It’s important to keep a sharp sword … but not necessarily a sharp tongue.’

Jack glanced sheepishly at Rose. ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you … I’m worried about my sister with that arrogant …’

‘No need to apologize, Jack. I’d be out of my mind if it was my sister!’ Finishing her apple, Rose tossed the core away. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘Signor Horatio’s asked me to get in some provisions for tonight’s dinner. I’ll see you later.’ With that, she strolled away towards a baker’s shop.

Leaving Yori to keep watch, Jack and Akiko headed up the High Street to the fencing school. As they passed a cluster of people gathered outside the Greyhound Inn, they heard a familiar voice telling a familiar tale.

‘… It’s as if the four horsemen of the Apocalypse have descended … It’s not the plague that kills; it’s the doctors themselves …’

Jack stopped dead in his tracks. He’d been so focused on finding Jess that he’d almost forgotten about the four ninjas on his trail. A shudder ran through him. He knew it was only a matter of time before the assassins caught up with them.

‘So how did you escape, then?’ a wide-eyed woman was asking him in concern.

‘To tell you the truth, madam, I barely made it out alive,’ the storyteller replied pitifully. ‘I lost everything …’ he added, with a sorrowful shake of his head. ‘I had to abandon all my belongings … and am left with only the gentleman’s clothes that I wear …’

Jack, followed by Akiko, pushed through the knot of listeners to find the storyteller being comforted by the woman.

‘Harold!’ said Jack with a broad smile, as if greeting an old friend. ‘I trust you didn’t lose everything.’

Harold Westcott glanced up sharply and his face blanched. ‘I-I-I didn’t expect to see you here,’ he stuttered.

‘I bet you didn’t,’ said Jack.

Before Harold could make a bolt for it, Jack unsheathed the rapier on his hip and thrust the tip against the courtesy-man’s throat. Pinned against a wall, Harold swallowed hard in panic. The crowd of onlookers all took a hasty step back.

‘Where’s my silver locket?’ demanded Jack.