‘I hope you’re right, Yori,’ said Akiko, her expression as equally worried as Jack’s. ‘Because she was very convincing.’

‘And I’m convinced that that witch has met my sister on the road,’ said Jack. ‘How else could she have –’

‘Good evening!’

They all looked up as a young man in a plush velvet jerkin, with silver buttons and shoulder wings, sat himself down at their table. ‘You look like you’ve come far,’ he said cheerily to Akiko and Yori.

Jack stiffened, instinctively on guard. ‘And what’s it to you?’

The young man raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t take umbrage, my good man. I’m only being friendly to our foreign visitors here.’ He offered his hand. ‘Sorry, rude of me not to introduce myself. The name’s Harold Westcott. And you are?’

Jack relaxed a little. From his dress and manner, their uninvited guest appeared to be a gentleman. Jack shook hands with him, and introduced himself and his friends.

‘The Japans, eh?’ remarked Harold, regarding Yori and Akiko with open curiosity. ‘Can’t say I’ve ever heard of the place. But it must be a fine country to produce such fine people as you.’ His gaze rested on Akiko.

Akiko inclined her head, smiling politely, and Jack felt a stab of envy at their guest’s easy charm and charisma. Both Akiko and Yori attracted a lot of attention in England, and Jack felt protective of them as his guests in his homeland.

‘If I may say so,’ Harold went on, ‘that’s an exquisite hairpin you’re wearing, miss. Solid gold?’

Akiko nodded, her hand going to the slender kanzashi pin that held her long dark hair in a bun. One end was crafted into the shape of a sakura flower. But Akiko’s kanzashi was as beautiful as it was deadly – its tip sharpened to a fine point for use as a secret lethal weapon. Not that our new friend need know that, thought Jack, reminding himself that Akiko was more than capable of protecting herself.

‘And you look to be a learned young man,’ remarked Harold, turning to Yori. ‘What’s that staff you’re carrying?’

‘It’s a shakujō,’ Yori explained enthusiastically. ‘We use it in prayer, as an accompaniment to our chanting.’

Harold examined its spiked bronze tip and six metal rings. ‘Looks more like a spear than a musical instrument!’

Yori responded with an enigmatic smile. The man was closer to the truth than he realized. Not mentioning the staff’s purpose as a self-defence weapon, Yori replied, ‘I am a Buddhist. We believe in not harming any creature. The jingling of the rings warns insects and other animals of our approach so that we don’t step on them accidentally.’

‘Admirable,’ said Harold. ‘But why six rings?’

‘They represent the Six Perfections.’