Toge sat opposite him beside two men. In the gloom, Jack’s face was heavily in shadow beneath his hat, so he risked a glance up. One of the men was middle-aged, with a permanent frown and stubble like a harvested field left untended. The other was ancient, a wizened old man with spidery white hair and eyes screwed up so tight they were barely visible. The faces of all three farmers appeared gaunt and haunted in the flickering light of the fire.

‘I’m Junichi, the head of this village,’ announced the middle-aged man, with a bow of his head. ‘This is Yoshi, the elder.’

The old man grunted, but being stiff with age he couldn’t bow.

Jack returned Junichi’s greeting with his own bow. As he rose, he caught sight of Neko peering through a gap in the rear wall, her eyes avidly following the proceedings.

‘We thank you for coming to our rescue in our time of plight,’ continued Junichi. ‘The village is in need of a brave samurai such as yourself. I can only apologize the reward is so little, but the glory and honour will be great – and worthy of a samurai.’

The farmer’s grave tone gave Jack an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘Surely, it’s just a matter of guarding your rice store from a thief or two …’

The old man, Yoshi, cleared his throat. ‘You’re aware of Black Moon?’

Jack nodded, familiar with the Japanese term for a new moon. He was willing to stay the month, as agreed.

‘Yet he doesn’t scare you?’

‘He?’

Yoshi squinted at Jack, then turned on Toge. ‘You didn’t tell him?’

‘I … I was going to,’ stammered Toge. ‘But the moment never arose.’

The knot in Jack’s stomach tightened.

Sucking on his gums, Yoshi shook his head woefully. ‘Black Moon is the name we call the mountain bandit Akuma.’

The room seemed to darken at the very mention of his name, the farmers visibly trembling and looking to the shadows.

‘For this is the time he strikes,’ explained Yoshi. ‘On the first black moon of winter, when the night is at its darkest, he attacks our village and steals all our rice. We’re left starving and foraging for scraps.’

‘One man does all this?’ asked Jack. ‘But there’s a whole village of you.’

‘He rides with others.’

‘How many?’

‘Forty or so bandits.’

5 Seven Samurai

5

SEVEN SAMURAI

Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or run for his life. ‘Even the greatest samurai couldn’t defeat so many!’

‘I told you, Yoshi,’ said Junichi. ‘It’s futile. We should just hand our rice to Akuma. Get it over and done with.’

Yoshi ignored him, asking Jack, ‘Then how many do you need?’