‘You’re too humble,’ said Hayato. ‘I like that. I’d be proud to fight at your side against this bandit Akuma.’

Overcoming their fear, the farmers shuffled forward and bowed their gratitude. Even Toge’s mood seemed improved at the news and he signed impatiently to Neko to brew some fresh sencha.

As the four samurai sipped their tea, Jack admitted to Hayato, ‘We’ve struggled to find willing volunteers. Do you know anyone else who might join us?’

Putting down his cup, Hayato pondered this for a moment, then raised a single finger in the air. ‘One boy may be worth recruiting.’

14 Yuudai

14

YUUDAI

‘What do you think?’ asked Hayato, the following morning down by the docks.

Jack and the others were momentarily speechless. The young samurai in question was lugging saké barrels two at a time into a warehouse – other porters could barely manage one cask between two.

‘He’s the size of a mountain!’ gasped Yori, who didn’t even measure up to the boy’s hip.

Jack was equally astonished. This young samurai possessed a broad chest, legs like tree trunks and arms rippling with muscles. His hair, swept up into a topknot, was slick and black as tar, and his face seemed to be chiselled out of granite.

‘Yuudai is big for his age,’ granted Hayato. ‘But that’s what makes him such a formidable warrior.’

A stick-thin woman with narrow eyes and grey papery skin marched out of the warehouse.

‘What’s taking you so long?’ she demanded, waving a slim bamboo cane threateningly in the air. ‘We’ve three more shipments to unload. Get moving!’

She chased Yuudai and the other porters into the warehouse, barking orders and abuse as if she was the Shogun herself. One porter was apparently too slow for her liking and she whipped him across the legs.

‘That woman’s worse than my mother!’ commented Saburo as her victim limped rapidly inside.

All of a sudden a high-pitched scream pierced the air.

‘Sounds like the samurai’s had enough of her?’ said Jack, and they ran to see what was causing the commotion.

They found the woman standing upon an empty cart, her face greyer than ever and her kimono held tight to her skeletal body.

‘Kill it! Kill it!’ she screeched, pointing a gnarled finger at a tiny brown mouse on the floor.

A porter grabbed a broom and tried to beat the creature over the head. But the mouse was too quick. It darted up the cart’s wheel and the woman became hysterical as the mouse scurried about her feet. She jumped around like a maniacal puppet, while the porters struggled to stifle their laughter.

‘You, samurai boy!’ squawked the woman, her eyes bulging with terror. ‘Help me!’

Cornering the little creature, Yuudai bent down and scooped it up in his huge hands.

‘Squash it!’ she cried.