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only between Tomo Harbour and Shikoku Island. You’ll have to find another boat in Imabari.’
    Leaning close to Yori, the deckhand whispered, ‘A word of warning – you take your life into your own hands sailing that route. I’ve heard tales of man-eating sea dragons!’
    Walking away, he left them all with horrified expressions on their faces.
    ‘Perhaps we
should
stick to the road,’ said Yori, swallowing fearfully.
    ‘He’s just trying to scare us,’ said Miyuki. But she appeared equally unsettled by the idea, and turned to Jack for reassurance. ‘There aren’t sea dragons, are there?’
    Having encountered many strange creatures in the ocean, Jack could understand why people might believe in dragons. But he’d never seen one for himself. ‘Our real concern should be pirates. We need to find a ship with a flag.’
    ‘And a fast one, just in case we meet a dragon,’ added Yori.
    Attempting to change the subject away from dragons, Jack offered the plate of fish to Saburo. ‘Would you like some food?’
    Usually the first in line to eat, Saburo shook his head feebly.
    ‘Ginger is good for settling the stomach,’ insisted Jack, but his friend just heaved and hung his head over the side.

8
     
Pirate War
     
    As their boat made its final tack towards the port of Imabari, a castle loomed into view. Surrounded by sheer stone walls, the imposing structure rose directly out of the water. The central keep – a stark white tower with slate-grey curving roofs – soared five storeys high to command unbroken views across the Seto Sea. Like an armoured sentinel, it stood guard at the entrance to the port.
    ‘That’s
Mizujiro
,’ explained the poet, noticing how awestruck Yori and his friends appeared at the sight. ‘
Daimyo
Mori’s infamous Castle in the Sea, built to keep watch over the Kurushima Straits.’
    Jack felt a hard knot of dread form in the pit of his stomach. Where such a fortress existed, so did numerous samurai patrols – and they were sailing straight into the midst of them.
    ‘Look! Part of the castle’s floating away,’ exclaimed Miyuki in astonishment.
    Glancing up, Jack saw a wooden section of wall on the eastern flank detach itself from the main complex. But, as their boat drew closer, it became apparent the floating wall was something else entirely.
    ‘That’s an
atake-bune
,’ the poet said grimly. ‘One of
daimyo
Mori’s warships.’
    Jack couldn’t blame Miyuki for her mistaken observation. The immense vessel was built just like a battlement. On all four sides, solid wooden walls towered upwards to form an impregnable box-like shell. Along its length were two rows of diamond-shaped loopholes from which cannon, guns and bows could be fired. And an enclosed cabin on the upper deck completed the illusion of a fortified rampart.
    In fact, the only clues to it being a ship were a tall mast and the forest of oars that projected from a hidden lower deck. The oarsmen themselves were shielded behind a protective skirt of bamboo screens, just above the waterline.
    As the
atake-bune
pulled away from the castle, a large square sail was raised aloft. Emblazoned at its centre was the
mon
of a golden shell. Across the waters, Jack could hear the rhythmic
thud-thud-thud
of a drum, like the beat of a monster’s heart. With each strike, the oars dipped into the water to be followed by the grunts and groans of eighty oarsmen as they strained to move the great beast across the sea.
    The captain of their own vessel kept well clear of the warship’s path. Built for battle, the
atake-bune
was heavy and had limited steerage, but once it had picked up speed, it would stop for no one.
    Several smaller boats followed in its wake. Three were of a similar design to the
atake-bune
. These
seki-bune
possessed equally strong defences, but were half the size and had pointed prows, each tasselled with a coiled rope. Upon the open deck, Jack saw thirty samurai warriors stationed along the gunwales, armed with