Meanwhile, Yori had been backed up against a tree. The upright-man hammering him with blows of his staff, Yori darted from side to side, like a shrew evading the talons of a hawk, his small stature playing to his advantage as each attack struck the tree trunk instead. With each missed blow, the gang leader’s fury and frustration grew, but so did Yori’s exhaustion.

Jack and Akiko had seen his plight and were fighting their way across the clearing, desperate to help their friend.

Suddenly Yori dived between the robber’s legs, catching him with the bronze tip of his shakujō. The gang leader let out a pained groan. Then, hooking his ankle with the end of the shakujō, Yori swept him off his feet. The upright-man landed in the earth with a heavy whump, his head hitting a protruding root, and he was knocked senseless.

‘Not so upright now, are you?’ panted the victorious Yori.

On seeing their leader bested, the remaining members of his gang fled the clearing.

‘Good work, Yori!’ said Jack, sheathing his swords.

Yori grinned. ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall!’

But the upright-man wasn’t out for the count. He slowly began to rise.

Akiko drew her bow once more, pressing an arrow to the back of his head. ‘Don’t move!’

‘That’s good advice!’ said a voice behind them, just before they heard the distinctive click of a flintlock pistol being primed.

21: Thunderstorm

Jack and the others turned round, to find Hazel pointing the barrel of the pistol at them. Jack cursed himself. They’d forgotten all about the upright-man’s doxy in the mayhem of battle. Holding Jack and his friends at gunpoint, Hazel sneered, ‘Now it’s your turn to drop your weapons and surr–’

A bone-jarring thunk stopped her mid-sentence and she slumped to the ground, the pistol clattering from her hand.

‘I reckon you did need my help after all!’ said Rose, emerging from the bushes, casually tossing a rock in her hand.

‘Nice shot!’ said Jack. He examined the growing lump on the back of the unconscious girl’s head. ‘Where did you learn to throw like that?’

‘At the May Day fair,’ replied Rose. ‘Always hit the skittles off.’

‘Will someone please untie us?’ requested the well-mannered voice of Lord Percival.

Jack turned to the nobleman and his wife, who were still bound to the oak tree. With one slash of his katana, he cut through the knot and the ropes fell away. Lord Percival rushed to tend to Lady Percival’s ear, finding a handkerchief to stem the bleeding. Then, rather formally, he addressed his rescuers. ‘My wife and I are deeply indebted to you,’ he said, inclining his silver-haired head.