The startled farmers ran to their positions, Yuudai’s barricade unit being the first to get in line. The others eventually followed suit.

‘That’s more like it,’ acknowledged Hayato.

He stepped from the veranda to inspect the rabble of farmers before him. Some carried roughly hewn bamboo spears, while others brandished rusting or broken farm tools as makeshift weapons. Walking the line with Jack, Hayato assessed each of the recruits. Although toughened from their working lives in the fields, the past three years of raids had taken their toll and many were malnourished and gaunt. Barely half the men appeared strong enough to fight. The other half of this peasant army consisted of young boys or old men – neither group fit for the bloody battle ahead.

Turning to Jack, Hayato whispered, ‘If this is our army, we’ll need a miracle!’

‘What we’ve got is less than two weeks,’ replied Jack.

Hayato and Jack came to Sora, who was trembling so much he could hardly hold his spear.

‘What are you afraid of?’ asked Hayato.

‘F-f-fighting Akuma,’ said Sora feebly.

Hayato looked at the rest of the men. ‘Is anyone else afraid of Akuma?’

Countless heads bobbed up and down.

‘ME TOO!’ Hayato declared, much to the men’s surprise. ‘But remember this, when the bandits see us next, they’ll also be scared – of us!’

Hearing this, Sora’s shaking subsided – until a farmer from the back shouted, ‘Nothing frightens Akuma!’

Hayato glared at the man. ‘Everyone’s afraid of something.’

‘Not Akuma. He’s evil itself.’

A murmur of nervous agreement rose among the farmers. Keen to stamp out such demoralizing talk, Hayato unslung his bow and fired an arrow directly at the dissenting farmer. The man screamed in panic, terror etching his face at his imminent demise. But the arrow missed him by a whisker and pierced the wooden handle of his scythe instead.

‘Akuma’s a man like any other,’ said Hayato. ‘He’ll fear death, if nothing else.’

His deadly shot silenced the farmer, along with the rest of the peasant army who gazed in awe at the young samurai’s expert archery skills. Hayato continued to work the line, adjusting the men’s grip on their weapons, showing basic techniques and offering advice. Jack had to admire the boy – he had the gift of military command and of making a point!

When they came to the last row, they found Neko standing proudly to attention, one of the few recruits seemingly ready to be a soldier.

‘This is the courage we’re looking for!’ said Hayato.

‘I think we’ve found our seventh samurai,’ exclaimed Jack with a smile, pointing to the katana on Neko’s hip.

Hayato’s expression turned from approval to quiet outrage.

‘Hand it over,’ he said, gesturing to the weapon.