Masamoto paused again and took in the whole room, ensuring his speech had had the intended effect. Jack could feel the gravity of his stare upon him, even though he was at the very back of the chamber.

‘From every tiny bud springs a tree of many branches,’ he continued, his austere tone thawing slightly. ‘Every castle commences with the laying of the first stone. Every journey begins with just one step.2 To assist you in making that first step and the many others you will take, I present your sensei. REI!’

All the students bowed, their heads touching the tatami mat as a mark of their complete respect for their teachers.

‘First, Sensei Hosokawa, master of kenjutsu and the bokken.’

Masamoto acknowledged the samurai to his immediate right, the one who had directed Jack to his room earlier that day. A fierce-looking warrior with jet-black hair swept up into the customary topknot, Hosokawa possessed dark piercing eyes and tugged thoughtfully at his sharp stub of a beard.

‘Together with myself, he will train you in the Art of the Sword and, should you demonstrate excellence, we will impart to you the technique of “Two Heavens”.’

Sensei Hosokawa stared at them, as if assessing each student in turn for their right to be there. He then bowed his head, apparently satisfied. Jack wondered what the ‘Two Heavens’ technique was and looked across to Akiko to ask, but she like everyone else was staring resolutely in the direction of the sensei.

‘To Sensei Hosokawa’s right is Sensei Yamada, your sage in Zen and meditation.’

A bald-headed man with a long, wispy grey beard and a crinkled old face dozed at the far end of the table. He was thin and reedy, as if grown from a bamboo shoot, and Jack guessed he had to be at least seventy years old, for even his eyebrows had gone grey.

‘Sensei Yamada?’ asked Masamoto gently.

‘Hai! Dōzo, Masamoto-sama. It’s good to have an end to journey toward,’ said the old man with considered care, ‘but it’s the journey that matters, in the end.’3

‘Wise words, Sensei,’ responded Masamoto.

Sensei Yamada then nodded forward and appeared to drift back to sleep. Jack wished he could fall to sleep so easily in such a position. His knees were already stiffening up and his feet ached.

‘You must stop fidgeting,’ whispered Akiko, seeing Jack shift his weight around. ‘It is disrespectful.’

No sympathy from her, thought Jack, perhaps the Japanese were born kneeling!

Masamoto turned to a young woman on his left. ‘Now I present Sensei Yosa, mistress of kyujutsu and horsemanship.’