Ninja Vs Samurai (Part 1)

by James Harden

Ryu

  The sound of the Shogun snapping Hideo’s neck had made me physically ill. I let out a cry, a yelp, a weird whimpering noise that originated somewhere in my chest, next to my heart.

  It was an automatic reflex and it nearly cost me my life.

  The Shogun had heard me. He moved slowly towards to the mouth of the alley.

  I held my breath and instantly turned invisible.

  The Shogun knelt down and studied every inch of the alleyway. Even when he knelt down he was still taller than a man and at least twice my height. His facemask was molded from the face of a demon. It was designed to instill fear into anyone who looked upon it. And it was working.

  “Shikage!” the Shogun called out.

  I began slowly walking backwards, retreating further into the alley. It was time to run, to get as far away from the village as possible.

  Just before I turned, I saw that damn shadow warrior rise up out of the darkness and the shadows cast by the bonfire.

  The shogun pointed in my direction.

  And I ran.

  I ran into the stable. I figured if I could find a horse, put some distance between me and the village and the Shogun and the shadow warrior I would have a better chance of escape. I could then move into the forest and disappear.

  I made it inside the stable but my heart sank. The horses lay in a pile. They had all been decapitated and torn apart. There was blood everywhere.

  There was so much blood I nearly slipped over. It was then I saw something in far corner of the stable.

  Something big.

  A monster.

  I couldn’t see it clearly because it was crouched in the dark. But its massive frame barely fit inside the stable. It was crouched over the pile of dead horses. It was feeding.

  It looked up momentarily and sniffed the air.

  I remained invisible.

  A few seconds later it resumed eating the flesh and bones of the horses.

  I backed out of the stable. I would have to make my escape on foot. I quickly moved outside and jumped back over the outer walls of the village. I had nowhere else to go, no other options so I ran into the surrounding forest. Just before I reached the cover of the trees I snuck a glance over my shoulder back at the village. The bonfire was bigger now. It was spreading to the closest buildings. It was turning into an inferno that would undoubtedly consume the entire village.

  Suddenly I saw five dark shapes coming after me across the clearing. The Shogun’s men. They were giving chase.

  The sight of those dark warriors scared me to my core. I was so focused on them I wasn’t watching my step and I didn’t see her.

  “Stop right there,” she said.

  The girl was wearing a hooded robe and carried a large wooden bow and a sheath of arrows over her shoulder. She held a knife in her hands. Even though it was dark, there was enough moonlight filtering through the trees that I could see she was beautiful.

  She pointed the knife at my chest. “Don’t come any closer.”

  In the distance I could hear the ragged breathing of the Shogun’s men. I could hear the roar of the flames.

  I held my hands out to let her know that I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “What’s going on here?” she asked.

  “Something bad. We need to go. Trust me.”

  “No. I need to get down there.”

  “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

  There was an explosion in the village. The fire intensified.

  The girl looked down at the flames with fear in her eyes and a kind of hopeless desperation.

  I grabbed her by the shoulders. “We have to go.”

  “No. I need to get down there,” she repeated. “I am looking for someone.”

  “Well, that someone is dead. The Dark Shogun. And his Elite. They killed everyone. The women. The children. Everyone.”

  “No. That can’t be.”

  I pointed at the the flames. “Look! It was a massacre down there. And they’re coming this way! We need to go!”

  She began to shiver.

  The Shogun’s men were striding up the hill towards us. There were five a first. But then more. And more. Standing in the gates of the main entrance to the village, silhouetted against the flames was the Dark Shogun. I couldn’t see his face but he appeared to be looking up at us. Looking right at us.

  The girl was still shivering, shaking her head. She began to sob.

  I pulled her deeper into the forest.

  “The Dark Shogun is coming,” I whispered. “If he finds us, he will snap us in half. Or behead us. He’ll throw our bodies on the fire.”

  “This can’t be happening,” she said. “I need to find him.”

  “It is happening. It’s happening all over the south country. The Shogun is making sure there’ll never be another uprising.”

  I could barely see where we were walking now. The trees were too thick. No more moonlight.

  “I need to find him,” she repeated.

  “Who? Who the hell are looking for?”

  “A Samurai. A great sword master. I need his help. He’s the only one who can…”

  Before she could finish, I heard something that sounded like a twig snapping. Up ahead, I saw a dark shape move and dance between the trees. The shape was at ground level. And then up higher, in the canopy of the trees, moving through the branches. Circling us. Surrounding us.

  It was the shadow warrior.

  “What is your name?” I asked the girl.

  “Kimiko,” she whispered.

  “Do you trust me, Kimiko?”

  “What?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Hold my hand.”

  “Why? What are you going to do?”

  I wasn’t even sure. I’d never tried it with another person before. But this had to work. If we didn’t get out of here right now, we were as good as dead.

  I grabbed her by both hands and pulled her close. I closed my eyes and thought of home.

  Suddenly we were standing in a field bathed in silver moonlight. We were in the field closest to my house.

  As always, I was dazed and disorientated. I struggled to breathe. My whole body was shaking. My heart pounded and my lungs burned. But I was glad for the pain. It meant I was still alive.

  Kimiko was breathing hard as well. She dropped to her knees and coughed uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around her body, patting herself down to make sure she was all in one piece.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked. “What did you just do? Where the hell are we?”

  I ignored her questions.

  I looked up at my home. A small, two-storey farm house. The house was dark. Something was wrong.

  Goda

  High atop the main tower of Kumamoto Castle, Goda watched in amusement as all hell broke loose. The Kumamoto Samurai were put on high alert the instant Ito Isamu’s body was found. He wondered how long it would take them to find the rest of the bodies.

  From his vantage point, Goda could see everything. The Kumamoto Samurai responded quickly. Guards were reinforced and search patrols were sent out. Their blazing torches lit up the alleys of the surrounding town. The shouts of the Samurai echoed through the night.

  Goda smiled. The Samurai were scared. Man always feared what he did not understand, what he could not see. Their fear made them weak.

  At day break the Shogun’s army would arrive and the Kumamoto Samurai would be forced to lay down their swords forever. If they chose to fight, they would be killed. With a Kensei Master fighting with them, they may have stood a chance. But now Isamu was dead, the Kumamoto Samurai had no hope.

  Maybe I could further thin the ranks of Samurai. Goda knew the Shogun would be pleased. But first, he had more important matters to attend to.

  Goda moved back from the edge of the roof. He knelt down and closed his eyes. Slowing his heart rate, he used an ancient technique known only to the Immortals to
make contact with his Master, the Dark Shogun of Japan. Goda’s consciousness entered a dark place. There, he waited.

  A threatening voice spoke to him. “Did you succeed in your mission?”

  “Yes, my Master,” Goda replied confidently.

  “Excellent,” the Shogun praised. “What did the old Kensei have to say?”

  “Exactly as we had anticipated. The Sword of Souls is resting in the Dead Forest. He spoke of a map that showed its precise location.”

  “Where is the map?” the Shogun said anxiously.

  “It is hidden,” Goda replied, with a smile on his face. “At the House of Fire.”

  “This may be a problem,” the Shogun spoke worriedly. “The House of Fire is a difficult residence to breach. Lord Sato Okinaga has heavily fortified his home.”

  “My Lord, I have grown powerful under your guidance. I will not fail you.”

  The Shogun paused for a brief moment, pleased that finally the Sword of Souls would soon be in their possession. “Good. The Kensei are on the brink of extinction and the Sword of Souls will be ours. You are proving to be most useful.”

  The Shogun spoke from the darkness and meticulously laid out his instructions for the next mission. He spoke with confidence and excitement.

  Goda would infiltrate the House of Fire, he would locate the map. And he would kill all who stood in his way.

  With the approval of his master, Goda slowly brought his consciousness back to his present surroundings. The shouts of the Kumamoto Samurai continued.

  Goda was not at all worried about infiltrating Okinaga’s fortress. He had made it inside once before. It felt like a lifetime ago he had memorized every inch of the residence. But he still remembered.

  He remembered because it was the night his life changed forever.

  It was ten years ago and Goda was dressed in black to blend in with the night. He had wanted to wear his trademark blood red armor but his employer had ordered him not to. He moved silently through the night, across the roof of Lord Sato Okinaga’s main residence.

  His mission was simple.

  On him he carried only his most basic weapons and tools: a grappling hook, a knife and a pair of handspikes. There would be no need for a sword. The instructions of his employer echoed in his head. Do not engage anyone unless absolutely necessary.

  Goda paused at the edge of the roof and looked out at the ground, three stories below. He could barely see the perfectly kept garden surrounding the huge house as he scanned the darkness for the patrolling guards.

  He was amazed at how different things looked at night. It would be impossible to move around if he hadn’t studied the entire layout of the house and grounds for weeks in advance. He crouched down as a gust of wind kicked up, careful not to move any of the tiles on the roof. Goda looked skyward and saw the crescent shape of the moon appear behind the clouds. The dull light was barely enough to illuminate the leather armor of the guards, all of them armed to the teeth and ready to die protecting Lord Sato.

  As he knelt on the edge of the roof, he studied the movements of the patrol one more time. The guards moved through the grounds just like they had done every night for the past three weeks. Their behavior was now totally predictable.

  He turned his attention back to the surrounding garden. It stretched out for more than a hundred yards in every direction from the house. In the dark of night it seemed to go on forever. The garden was enclosed by an intimidating thirty foot stonewall. It made this residence one of the most fortified in the land.

  But the real fortification was not manmade.

  The house and surrounding garden had been built on the side of a semi-active volcano. The volcano was not violent when it erupted, and any lava flowing down the side of the volcano was re-directed away from the residence by a huge moat. If the moat failed, the stonewall would not. The volcano was the reason Lord Sato Okinaga had chosen this site to build his home. It was the perfect defense and the ultimate fortification.

  Goda admired the dark silhouette of the volcano as he looked up from the roof to the north. It sat dormant; its silence belying its power.

  At the southern end of the garden was a natural spring pool. On the other side of this pool and beyond the wall, was a sheer cliff face. It added to the already seemingly impenetrable security of the residence. Goda knew that Lord Sato Okinaga was the envy of many others in the land who could only dream of the security offered by the volcano.

  Goda remembered feeling mixed emotions of excitement and apprehension when he was told he would be infiltrating the famous House of Fire, a tough assignment even for him. Ultimately he remained determined. A volcano or any fortification would not deter the Red Ninja, no matter how high.

  He had easily climbed the northern wall. The stones that made up the impressive fortification had provided perfect hand and foot holds. The climb being made easier by metal spikes attached to the palms of his hands. The spikes, he had discovered, were not only great for climbing, but were impressive weapons as well. They had saved his life once and he had never left on a mission without them since.

  Looking out into the darkness, he strained his eyes to see the southern wall but found nothing. He needed to make his way to the pool.

  The pool was his target.

  His instructions were clear. Complete the mission, return to the rendezvous point and wait for further instructions. Do not engage anyone unless absolutely necessary.

  Goda listened for the familiar sound of trickling water. He held his breath and waited for the right moment and then dropped to the ground silently. The guards continued their patrol, totally oblivious to his presence.

  He moved through the night quickly, nothing more than a shadow. He came to the pool at the southern end of the garden and removed a small bottle from his sleeve. Just as he was about to pour the contents of the bottle into the water he thought he heard a whispered voice.

  He paused and remained perfectly still.

  He quickly scanned the immediate area. He was alone.

  Seconds passed. He struggled to control his heart rate.

  He heard the whispered voice again.

  “Join us.”

  Goda was spooked. There was no one there. The darkness of the night pressed against him.

  He poured the contents of the bottle into the pool and crouched low as he surveyed his surroundings, looking for his escape route.

  He wished he could simply climb over the southern wall, but climbing down the cliff in the pitch black of night would lead to a certain death. He needed to make his way back to northern side. This would be no easy task. The timing was crucial. The guards needed to be in the right positions.

  Just as he was about to make his escape, he heard what sounded like a muffled footstep. Goda turned. The next noise he heard was the unmistakable sound of a spear flying through the air, the deep whoosh breaking the silence of the night. Leaping back, he saw the dark outline of a guard.

  No one had ever snuck up on Goda and he was determined to make it the last time.

  The guard attacked again. He was fast and strong, his technique forged through years of brutal training. Goda leapt to the side, just barely avoiding the full brunt of the spear.

  He needed to end this now.

  Goda rolled towards his enemy, aiming to take out the guard’s legs, get him on the ground and kill him quietly. But the guard seemed to vanish and then re-appear a short distance away. He was freakishly fast.

  Suddenly another guard appeared from behind. He brought his sword slicing down but Goda caught the sharp end of the blade between his palms, his hands protected by the metal climbing spikes. He twisted the sword and pulled it free from the guard, throwing it into the pool.

  Goda turned quickly, expecting an attack from the other guard but to his surprise the guard had moved further away, back into the shadows of the massive stonewall. The guard then seemed to sink into the wall and the ground. As if the darkness swallowed him. He then disappeared completely.

&nbs
p; The second guard retrieved a knife from his belt and threw it at Goda.

  Goda reacted quickly, catching the knife and throwing it back at the guard. The knife stuck him right in the chest.

  The guard had made a crucial error in judgment. He should have raised the alarm and waited for reinforcements. But instead, he had acted out of greed. He had attacked in a vain attempt to capture the intruder, hoping to gain the praise of Lord Okinaga for himself.

  His mistake was deadly.

  Momentarily in shock, the guard presented an opening in his armor. Pulling free his grappling hook, Goda threw it at the guard’s neck, piercing his windpipe.

  The guard fell on one knee.

  Goda rushed forward and tied the rope around the guard’s neck.

  There was no time to think, no time to see where the other guard was. He simply acted.

  Leaping to the far side of the pool with the rope in hand he scaled the thirty foot stonewall with incredible speed. When he reached the top, he jumped.

  Goda fell downwards into a dark abyss, rapidly accelerating towards a certain death. He was still clutching the rope attached to the guard.

  As he fell, the rope tightened around the guard’s neck who was still kneeling on the ground on the other side of the wall. The rope turned into a pulley as the weight of Goda falling instantly pulled the guard across the pool and over the wall.

  As the guard was launched over the wall and the rope became slack, Goda slammed his hand against the cliff face in a desperate attempt to slow his descent. The metal spikes screeched against the rocks, trying hopelessly to catch. Each vibration felt like nails being hammered into his hand. He gritted his teeth and blocked out the pain.

  As he continued to fall and pick up speed, time slowed down. Both he and the guard were now falling to their deaths. His only thought was that the second phase of his mission was not complete. He needed to return to the rendezvous point. He needed to live.

  Finally the spikes caught on a jagged stone and his descent came to an abrupt halt, the force dislocating his shoulder in the process. Goda screamed; the noise lost in the howling wind tearing across the cliff face.

  A split second later, the body of the guard came flying past as it fell towards the earth below. Goda let go of the rope attached to the guard and watched it slip into the darkness.

  He hung on the cliff in the dark of the night, his shoulder throbbing with pain, the tendons straining under his weight. He tried desperately to regain his composure.

  It had all happened so fast, a matter of seconds. It was just a reflex. Goda shifted his weight and tried to get a foothold on the cliff to ease the pressure on his shoulder.

  He felt like he had cheated death.

  Goda weighed up his options. He could climb back up to the top and make his way over the stonewall hoping no one had heard the struggle. Or he could attempt to climb down the rest of the cliff. Both options sounded like suicide but he had no choice. He needed to make his way back to the rendezvous point. There he would receive further instructions. And most importantly he would receive half of his payment. This was his top priority.

  He looked skyward, craning his neck to see the House of Fire. But it was too dark. The wind intensified, chilling him to the bone. Lifting his good arm up, he began the slow and painful climb back to the top, satisfied that his mission was complete and determined to make it to the rendezvous point.

  Goda shivered as he remembered that dark night.

  He should not have survived. He should have fallen to his death. Fate it would seem had other plans. He was stronger now, powerful enough to eliminate the legendary Ito Isamu. Never again would he come so close to failure.

  Goda moved to the edge of the main tower of Kumamoto castle and surveyed the terrain below. The cries of the searching Samurai were full of panic.

  Goda sat perched on the tower like an owl watching its prey. He could feel their fear.

  He removed a metallic pole that was secured to his back. The pole was about three feet in length and was covered in leather straps that served as grip.

  He triggered a button located near the center of the handle. A blade extended from within the pole instantly with a lightning quickness. Goda studied the edge of the blade. It glowed in the moonlight.

  His attention returned to the ground below him. The Samurai were still searching for the killer of Ito Isamu: their fear growing with every passing second.

  Goda smiled. It was time to reward himself for his excellent work.

  With the anticipation of fresh blood he jumped from the roof of Kumamoto Castle.

  Landing silently on the ground, he moved undetected to the rear of a patrolling Samurai. The Samurai was dressed in full battle armor. He carried on him two swords, one short and one long, the ultimate symbol of a warrior. In his hand was a nine-foot spear.

  This warrior was a formidable opponent. However on this particular night, this unfortunate Samurai never knew what hit him.

  Goda attacked, slicing the Samurai’s throat. The cut was so precise, the blade so sharp it took the guard’s head clean off. He fell to the ground as blood spurted from the carotid artery. The blood covered Goda and was absorbed into his red armor.

  Goda moved out into the night. There was still time to play before his next mission. And right now, there was plenty of scared Samurai to satisfy his lust for blood.