Jack felt the last comment had been said directly for his benefit and a number of the students turned their heads in his direction. One of them, an imperious-looking lad with a shaved head, high cheekbones and dark hooded eyes, shot him a look of pure malevolence. He wore a jet-black kimono with a red sun kamon emblazoned on the back.

‘Tomorrow you will begin your formal training. Those of you who have been students a season or more, you too will need to refresh the skills acquired to date. Do not think for one moment that you know it all. You have only taken your first step!’ proclaimed Masamoto, slamming his fist down on to the table to emphasize the point.

‘Given enough time, anyone may master the physical. Given enough knowledge, anyone may become wise. It is only the most dedicated warrior who can master both and achieve true bushido.4 The Niten Ichi Ryū is your path to excellence. Learn today so that you may live tomorrow!’

Masamoto bowed his respect to his students and everyone let loose a resounding chorus.

‘MASAMOTO! MASAMOTO! MASAMOTO!’

As the salutation died away, the large entrance shoji slid back and servants entered bearing several long lacquered tables. All the students rose to allow the tables to be placed in two rows down the length of the Chō-no-ma.

An unspoken but rigid system of hierarchy dictated the seating arrangement. The most advanced and elder students assembled nearest the head table, while the newest recruits sat closest to the entrance. Jack, Yamato and Akiko, who wore a jade-green ceremonial kimono with her father’s family kamon of a sakura flower, went to seat themselves with seventeen other new recruits at the very end.

Jack had dressed in the burgundy kimono Hiroko had presented him before leaving Toba. Somehow wearing Masamoto’s family kamon had given him the strength to subdue his fears. The phoenix kamon had acted like an invisible armour and discouraged the other students from approaching or physically challenging his presence. They had merely observed him with guarded suspicion.

As Jack went to seat himself, though, the student with the red sun kamon strode over.

‘That’s my seat, gaijin,’ he challenged.

All the students turned to see what the blond-haired gaijin’s reaction would be.

Jack squared up to the boy.

They held one another’s stares, the seconds seeming to stretch into infinity. Then he felt Akiko’s hand lightly touch his elbow and gently pull him away.

‘It’s all yours,’ said Jack to the boy. ‘I didn’t like the smell over here anyway.’

The boy’s nostrils flared at the implied insult on his cleanliness and he shot a scathing look at two trainees who had smirked at Jack’s retort.