The tactics of the Shogun’s samurai were usually direct and unsubtle. If they’d planned to ambush him, the ideal place would have been Okayama. It could be Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang. They often proved more devious and might be laying a trap. But it seemed odd to wait this long and the isolation meant no chance of reinforcements.

‘Bandits?’ whispered Hayato, his eyes darting from tree to tree.

‘Maybe,’ agreed Jack.

There was a strong possibility Akuma had got word of their plan to help the farmers – any of the samurai they’d approached in Okayama might have talked. If that was the case, the best opportunity Akuma had to attack the young samurai was now. The five of them were at their most vulnerable – before they reached the village and before they could prepare any defence.

The three farmers were slightly ahead and Jack urged everyone to catch up. It would be fatal if the group was split during a fight. They crunched on through the snow, their crisp footsteps the only sound.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught a movement. Snapping his head round, he saw … nothing but the frozen skeletons of trees, their branches laden with ice and snow. The sole sign of life was a deer track that wound its way through the woodland.

‘Why are you both so edgy?’ asked Saburo.

‘Bandits may be stalking us,’ replied Hayato, under his breath.

Saburo looked around and laughed. ‘Well, if they are, they must be snowmen!’

In the space of a heartbeat, Hayato drew his bow and shot at Saburo. He yelped in surprise as the arrow flew past his ear and struck a snowdrift.

A fraction before it did, a white shadow flitted away. Camouflaged to the surroundings, the figure immediately disappeared into the snow-shrouded landscape.

‘You could be right!’ said Hayato, hurriedly nocking another arrow.

Jack withdrew his sword, but the attack happened so fast, it took them all by surprise.

Out of nowhere, a manriki whirled through the air towards Hayato. He ducked, but the short weighted chain wrapped itself around his bow, incapacitating it. A moment later, a white shadow materialized from behind a tree and kicked Saburo in the gut. He collapsed to the ground, winded. Hearing his cry, the farmers fled in panic. But Yori quickly rallied them back into a group, holding out his shakujō’s pointed iron tip as a weapon.

Jack turned to pursue Saburo’s assailant, but once again the white shadow had vanished. As Hayato disentangled his bow, Jack scanned the woodland for their invisible enemy. But it was like hunting for a needle in a haystack.

He felt a tug on his sleeve and Neko was by his side, indicating with her eyes to a nearby tree. He saw nothing. Yet Neko was insistent.