‘We must stop Akuma!’ said Jack.

The screams went on and on, only challenged in volume by the gleeful laughter of the bandits.

‘And we will,’ promised Hayato, a look of fierce determination on his face. ‘At the coming of the black moon, we will.’

The screaming stopped.

Sora sat back in the snow, weeping silently and trying to comfort the traumatized Neko. With great reluctance, Jack and the others forced themselves to look through the window again.

Akuma, apparently disappointed at such a short display of torture, announced, ‘Feed him to the dogs!’

The two bandits pulled the unconscious farmer away from the fire and dragged his blistered body out to the back. A moment later, excited howls, yelps and growls were heard.

Akuma’s the devil himself! thought Jack, sickened to the pit of his stomach.

Turning to Sayomi and Nakamura, Akuma enquired, ‘I trust there’ll be no such resistance from the farmers of Tamagashi village?’

Sayomi shook her head. ‘Their spirit is broken after last time. Unless you count the old woman who beat Nakamura!’

Akuma let loose a booming laugh at this. Sayomi cackled too. Then, as if on cue, all the bandits joined in.

Nakamura fumed. ‘Well, I’m still suspicious of that trench,’ he mumbled.

‘You saw the state of their paddy fields,’ said Sayomi dismissively. ‘It was to stop the flooding.’

‘Maybe, but the old woman acted too bold for my liking.’

‘You’re just upset that a woman hit you,’ smirked Sayomi.

‘I’ll hit you if you don’t shut up!’ he snapped.

‘You can try,’ she challenged, her eyes narrowing.

Akuma held up his hand and the two of them immediately stopped squabbling. ‘So you think the farmers are planning something?’

‘I doubt they’re clever enough,’ replied Sayomi.

‘They might have sought help,’ Nakamura suggested.

‘But who’d listen to their pleas?’ said Akuma. ‘Daimyo Ikeda doesn’t care.’

‘Perhaps some masterless samurai.’

Akuma considered this. ‘But even ronin have standards. What sort of samurai would lower himself to serve a farmer?’

‘A desperate one!’ Out of the shadows stepped a man dressed in black and tan leather. The entire left-hand side of his face was burnt away, the skin red and rippled like candle-wax, the hair all gone. His left eye was missing, the lid melted over the empty hole.

‘Kurochi the Snake,’ whispered Sora, as Miyuki gasped in horror at the disfigured bandit.

‘But we need not fear ronin,’ sneered Kurochi. ‘Not with a weapon like this.’

He raised a loaded musket, aimed it at a large saké barrel in the corner and pulled the trigger. It exploded with a deafening crack. Bandits scattered in panic and rice wine cascaded over the group playing dice. Kurochi gave a cackling laugh and Akuma grunted in satisfaction at the deadly display.

33 Up in Flames

33

UP IN FLAMES

‘We’re in grave trouble,’ said Hayato with dismay. ‘I count forty-five bandits and that Kurochi has a gun!’