The two bandits held up flaming torches so everyone in the village could see the wooden pyre in the centre of the paddy field. Logs scavenged from the forest had been heaped at the foot of a stake rammed into the ground. Bound to this post was a small figure dressed in the robes of a monk and the armour of a samurai – Yori.

Jack stood powerless at the edge of the moat, staring in horror at the planned execution. Hayato, Saburo and the farmers gathered beside him, their faces mirroring his anguish.

Hidden deep within the darkness, Akuma gave a callous laugh at their reaction.

‘You have until midnight to surrender,’ he declared. ‘Otherwise the monk burns.’

‘Don’t surrender!’ shouted Yori, his voice trembling in spite of his courageous cry.

Nakamura stepped into the light of the torches and slammed the butt of his axe against Yori’s helmet. ‘Hold your tongue, or I’ll cut it out.’

Yori went limp, knocked unconscious by the blow.

Jack surged forwards in rage, determined to break his way through the thorn bushes and rescue his friend.

But Hayato seized him. ‘No! You’ll be killed.’

‘I must save him.’

‘That’s exactly what Akuma wants you to do.’

Jack fought against his grip.

‘He’s using Yori as bait to draw you out,’ insisted Hayato. ‘You’d be dead before you got even halfway.’

Realizing the truth in Hayato’s words, Jack stopped struggling.

‘I hope you like roasted monk!’ Nakamura taunted, before retreating into the darkness.

The two bandits followed, leaving a single torch to flicker in the wind.

‘We have to do something,’ insisted Saburo, who was as desperate as Jack at seeing their friend about to be sacrificed.

‘We could charge the bandits – all of us at once,’ Jack proposed.

‘Good idea! Akuma would never expect us to attack him,’ agreed Saburo, his sword already half-drawn at the suggestion.

Hayato pulled Jack and Saburo aside. ‘Our army consists of farmers, not samurai,’ he reminded them. ‘Without the advantage of our defences, the bandits would cut them down as if they were harvesting a field of rice.’

‘Then why not a small force of samurai – just us?’ said Jack.

‘You were at the Battle of Osaka Castle. Don’t you remember what happened when Satoshi’s forces were drawn out of the castle? Our side lost! This village is our fortress. It would be suicidal to leave.’

Stepping away from the sentry fire, Toge strode up to the conferring young samurai.

‘You’re not thinking of surrender, are you?’ he accused, paranoid with their whispering. ‘If you do, Akuma will burn you, your friend and everyone in this village. The earth will be scorched black by the time that devil’s finished.’

‘A samurai isn’t fickle like a farmer,’ said Hayato, insulted by the allegation. ‘Our code of bushido means our loyalties stay constant.’