16
THE GAMBLER
Clouds had gathered and a persistent drizzle fell from the sky as Ronin looked for a suitable place to shelter for the night. They kept to the outskirts of town, but most buildings appeared occupied.
‘When will it ever stop raining?’ complained Hana, hugging herself for warmth.
Suddenly up ahead a door opened and light spilled into the rain-washed street. A man stepped out, looking thoroughly dejected. From behind him raucous shouts of ‘Odd!’ and ‘Even!’ punctuated the night air. A moment later, these were replaced by cries of elation mixed with groans of disappointment.
‘A gambling den,’ Ronin hissed as the three of them ducked into a side alley to avoid being seen.
The man slammed the door shut, then morosely wandered down the road. As he drew near, Hana gasped. ‘I recognize him.’
She squinted harder. Dressed in a dark blue kimono, the man’s topknot hairstyle indicated he was a samurai, although he wasn’t carrying any swords.
‘I think he’s the man I stole your pearl from,’ whispered Hana.
‘Are you certain?’ asked Jack, feeling a small thrill of hope at their unexpected good fortune.
Hana nodded. ‘This isn’t a big town. There aren’t that many samurai around.’
Ronin strode out of the alley and into the man’s path.
‘Do I know you?’ enquired the man, trying to make out Ronin’s face in the darkness.
‘No! And you don’t want to,’ Ronin replied, grabbing the man by the scruff of his kimono and dragging him into the alley. ‘But you do know this samurai!’
The man’s eyes widened in shock when Jack removed his straw hat to reveal his blond hair and foreign face.
‘But … but … we left you for dead,’ spluttered the man.
‘Not dead enough,’ said Jack, clenching his fists in anger. He fought to restrain himself, calling upon the discipline Masamoto had ingrained in him. ‘Where are my belongings?’
Overcoming his initial shock, the man stared defiantly at Jack and remained tight-lipped.
‘Answer him!’ ordered Ronin, driving his forearm across the man’s throat and pinning him to the wall.
‘I don’t know … what you’re talking about.’
‘We can do this the easy way or …’ Ronin pressed harder and the man choked. ‘Now where’s the money you stole?’
The man gulped nervously. ‘I gambled it.’
‘All of it!’ exclaimed Jack.
‘I had a run of bad luck,’ snapped the man, as if that excused him. No longer able to meet their eyes, he mumbled, ‘I even lost my swords.’
Ronin stared at the man in astonishment. ‘You bet your swords! What sort of samurai gambles his soul away?’
‘But it was a sure win,’ he protested. ‘The dice must have been loaded!’
‘Well, it just isn’t your night, is it?’ said Ronin. ‘You’re about to lose the kimono off your back too.’
Ronin beckoned Jack closer. On inspection, the kimono had no identifying kamon and was of the same blue cloth as the one Akiko’s mother had given him. Jack nodded in agreement. Releasing the chokehold, Ronin ordered the man to hand over Jack’s clothes.
‘But I don’t have anything else to wear! I’ll catch my death!’
‘You never gave Jack that courtesy,’ said Ronin, unsheathing his sword as an additional incentive.
Hurriedly, the man stripped down to his loincloth and stood shivering in the rain.
‘We know the fate of Jack’s swords,’ said Ronin, resting the tip of his katana over the man’s heart. ‘If you don’t want to end up like your friend Manzo, then tell us where the rest of his belongings are.’
‘I-I … don’t have them,’ stammered the man.
‘That’s plain to see,’ said Hana, giggling at the samurai’s scrawny torso.
‘Then who does?’ demanded Ronin.
‘Botan!’ he confessed, spitting the name angrily. ‘He blamed me for losing the pearl. Thought I’d gambled it. But I reckon he stole it for himself.’
Jack and Ronin glanced at Hana, who was trying to suppress a grin.
‘Where’s this Botan now?’ pressed Jack, the rutter foremost in his mind.
‘How should I know? We parted company after Manzo’s death. He could be anywhere by now.’
In the blink of an eye, Ronin flicked the razor-sharp kissaki up to the samurai’s throat, drawing a bead of blood. ‘You can do better than that.’
‘M-m-most likely Nara,’ blurted the man. ‘That’s where he’s from.’
Ronin withdrew his sword. ‘You’ve been most helpful. Now for your reward –’
‘Wait!’ interrupted Jack, seeing the intent in Ronin’s actions. ‘I need to find out about my father’s diary and what they did to me.’
The man laughed coldly at this revelation. ‘Of course … you can’t remember!’ His eyes flicked to Ronin, a smirk on his face. ‘I know you –’
‘Don’t change the subject. TELL HIM!’ roared Ronin, his face like thunder.
The man’s bravado crumpled under Ronin’s ferocity. But just as he was about to reply, Hana hissed, ‘Dōshin!’
The light from several lanterns could be seen coming up the street, accompanied by the sound of marching feet. A patrol was checking each and every alley.
‘Looks like your luck’s back in,’ growled Ronin, sheathing his sword with annoyance. ‘But if you say one word to the dōshin you’ll lose far more than your clothes.’
Leaving the gambler in his loincloth, the three of them hurried away down the alley.
‘See you again, Ronin!’ called the gambler, daring a parting shot now he was safe.
Ronin stopped in his tracks and glared at the man. ‘Pray you never do.’
Cutting through Kizu’s backstreets, they emerged into paddy fields. Ronin spotted an old rice store and they ducked inside.
‘Do we have to stay here?’ protested Hana, holding her nose.
Ronin nodded. ‘It’ll do for the night.’
‘But it smells like some animal’s died. It stinks.’
‘So do you,’ snarled Ronin, peering through the door to check the dōshin weren’t following. ‘We’ll need to keep watch. I’ll go first.’
Jack found a dry spot in the corner of the storehouse and folded his blue kimono into a makeshift pillow. ‘Hana, you can sleep here. It doesn’t smell quite so bad.’
Mumbling her thanks, Hana curled up, exhaustion overwhelming her as soon as she closed her eyes. Jack cleared a space for his own bed, but he wasn’t ready yet. Their encounter with the gambler had given him fresh hope they’d find the rutter. Rubbing the green silk omamori for luck, he now knew the amulet had been leading them in the right direction. They also knew who to look for – Botan.
As Jack settled down to sleep, a thought occurred to him. ‘Ronin, how did the gambler know your name?’
The samurai turned on Jack, his dark eyes blazing. ‘What’s it to you?’
Jack recognized the haunted look in Ronin’s face. ‘It just seemed rather odd –’
‘Listen, I’ve met many samurai in my time and made a few enemies along the way. I don’t always remember the reasons.’ He swigged on his saké. ‘Now get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.’