Free The Collected Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Japan by Ben Stevens Page A

they fought bare-chested, as is the custom. They raised their fists, and the Captain stepped between them. He had no need to announce that he would referee this fight; it was obvious.
    ‘The fight ends when a man can’t get up off the floor and come up to scratch, having been knocked down, upon the count of ten,’ declared Captain Spillard, while scratching a line into the dusty ground with the toe of his shoe. ‘Or when I judge that a man is too badly injured to continue – and go against my ruling, and you’ll find some real punishment awaiting you.’
    Such was the grey-haired Captain’s general air of authority, that even the formidable Figg nodded his understanding of this threat. As it is upon a ship, strict discipline is essential upon this small island. Anyone found stealing from the warehouses full of merchandise from silks to spices is liable to find themselves whipped, heavily fined and possibly just placed on the next ship sailing away from Leaving Island, while it was common knowledge that a set of gallows – which had as yet not been used – was stored in a basement area beneath the Captain’s private residence, which is located near the bridge which connects the island to land.
    ‘Let’s get this done and finished, then,’ said the Captain; and, at his nod, Plummer and Figg momentarily ‘touched’ knuckles before beginning to circle around each other.
    Plummer was the first to throw a punch, which Figg easily evaded by moving his head sharply backwards. His own fist lashed out, a right as heavy as a mallet yet fast as a colt, and there was a sickening sound as it connected with Plummer’s right ear. Plummer staggered backwards, his face registering shock as he put his hand to the struck part. It was already bleeding, and no doubt exceedingly painful.
    The sneer was back on the Brawler’s face; and though he could certainly have pressed home his advantage that moment, while Plummer was stunned by the blow to his ear, he instead waited for his opponent to recover himself. It was clear that Figg was enjoying this fight, and had no desire for it to end too quickly.
    In any case, Plummer quickly recovered and moved in with a series of hard body shots – often greatly more effective than punches to the head and face, for ribs can cave in with far less force than is required to cause similar damage to a man’s skull (thus sparing a fighter’s hands), and the pain is something to make even a hardened fighter whimper for mercy.
    It will not surprise the reader to learn that there was no such whimpering from Figg, however. He took the blows almost entirely on his muscled arms, which he kept close by his sides, and then dealt Plummer a cracking left blow to the jaw, followed by a straight right shot to the heart.
    Plummer staggered backwards, shaking his head in a desperate attempt to remain conscious. Again, Figg could easily have finished this fight with just one more good blow; and, again, he instead waited for his opponent to recover himself.     
    ‘Looks like I win – again,’ said the Brawler. I wondered what he meant by this – had the two men fought each other already, at some point in the past? Yet they had never claimed to have known each other, before Plummer’s arrival upon this island...
    These words caused Plummer to give a shrill cry of rage, and he moved forwards, his fists lashing out. Figg brought his forearms up to shield his face, thus easily absorbing the wild blows. Then he ducked down, bringing his right fist down even lower… And at once exploding upwards he put all his weight into a brutal uppercut which impacted on the point of Plummer’s jaw, lifting that man off his feet and depositing him upon the dusty ground, where he twitched a couple of times before lying quite still.
    As physician of this island, I moved quickly towards the stricken man, fearing that he was badly hurt or even worse. As I knelt down beside him, I was vaguely aware of Captain Spillard saying