Akuma’s men, bloodied and taken aback by the farmers’ spirited resistance, had retreated to the far boundary of the paddy fields. There they remained, licking their wounds, kept under surveillance by Neko, stationed in the watchtower.

‘Seven farmers … and the boy,’ replied Hayato.

‘His name was Riku,’ said Yori mournfully. ‘He was the same age as us.’

Jack sat upon the edge of the veranda, his head in his hands. ‘Two of them were from my Sword unit.’

‘You can’t blame yourself, Jack,’ said Yuudai. ‘This is war.’

‘But I trained them. I led them –’

‘And that’s why four of them are still alive.’

Jack appreciated Yuudai’s sentiment, but it still didn’t make him feel any better. And despite repelling the bandits, he could see that the farmers’ morale had taken a severe blow.

‘We’ll be lucky to survive another attack like that,’ he said.

‘I did!’ said Saburo, proudly inspecting his dented helmet. ‘Even my father will be impressed with this.’

‘Don’t forget five of the bandits didn’t make it back,’ said Hayato. ‘That leaves Akuma with around twenty men – and four of those are injured. We may have suffered losses, but he’s in no rush to attack again.’

‘But neither has he gone,’ Miyuki observed. ‘Akuma’s merely waiting until nightfall.’

‘Then it’s time we cut the head off the snake,’ said Jack, his anguish at the farmers’ deaths hardening into action.

‘You mean assassinate him?’ said Miyuki, her eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘Who came up with that plan?’

Jack and Hayato glanced in Yori’s direction.

‘For a monk, you’re full of surprises,’ said Miyuki. ‘Tell me, how do you intend to do it?’

Yori looked startled at the suggestion that he would be the assassin.

‘He’s not. I am,’ said Hayato. ‘With my bow.’

‘It won’t work,’ stated Miyuki flatly.

‘I know Akuma’s out of range,’ Hayato sighed, irritated by her swift dismissal of the plan. ‘That’s why I need to get closer – without getting shot by Kurochi or Sayomi in the process.’

‘That’s not your problem,’ said Miyuki.

‘Then what is?’ demanded Hayato, his patience run dry.

‘Akuma’s armour is too thick. Your arrow will simply bounce off. To assassinate Akuma, you need to get in close. Real close.’

‘What do you suggest then?’

‘This is a job for a ninja … not a samurai.’

The moon remained unseen in the sky, only starlight reflecting off the snow-covered plain. With nightfall came the return of the farmers’ fears. Aware Akuma was out there biding his time to strike, they were scared to venture beyond the safe glow of the sentry fires. To them, Akuma was a devil who lived off the night and all believed he drew strength from the darkness.

But so did the ninja.

‘I’ll attack at midnight,’ said Miyuki, checking her ninjatō was secure upon her back.