Young Samurai: The Ring of Wind

by Chris Bradford

  The boy retreated and the gate was closed.

  Jack snatched up the water but, seeing Yori lick his dry lips in anticipation, offered the jug to his friend first.

  ‘No, after you,’ insisted Yori.

  Jack lifted the brimming jug to his lips and took a huge welcome gulp. Almost at once, he gagged violently.

  ‘It’s seawater!’ he rasped, spitting and hacking up bile.

  The sound of hearty laughter reached their ears. Skullface and his gang were lounging beside the main mast, clapping each other on the back at their prank.

  ‘How’s the water, fishface?’ jeered Snakehead, his tattoo of the two-headed serpent stretched out along his gangly legs upon the deck.

  Jack vomited, expelling the last of the salt water. The pirate gang roared even louder.

  ‘That trick never fails on new prisoners,’ grinned Skullface.

  Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, Jack glared at the ninja pirate. ‘Tastes better than you look!’

  The other pirates stopped laughing and uttered an exaggerated cry of shock.

  Skullface took the insult more seriously. Seizing a wooden club, he strode over to the cage. ‘You need some respect beaten into you, gaijin.’

  He raked the club over the bars, its studded tip clattering against the bamboo.

  ‘You don’t scare me, bonehead!’ retorted Jack, trying to goad the ninja pirate.

  Now Miyuki was having to restrain him. But Jack wanted to provoke Skullface into opening the gate and starting a fight. Then he could defeat the pirate, disarm him and the four of them could attempt an escape.

  ‘You couldn’t beat an egg!’ taunted Jack.

  Bristling at the slur, Skullface slammed his club into the bars. ‘You’ll regret that!’

  He pushed aside the guard and went to open the gate. But at that moment a clanging filled the air. A squat cook stood at the rear cabin’s doorway, thumping a large pot with a ladle.

  Skullface snorted. ‘Saved by the bell, gaijin,’ he said, waving his club at Jack. ‘But I’ll return and beat you to a pulp.’

  Skullface headed over to the disorderly queue of pirates and pushed his way to the front. The tantalizing smell of cooked rice and fish drifted towards them.

  ‘What I’d do for some rice now,’ moaned Saburo, his stomach growling.

  ‘When we escape,’ said Jack, ‘you can have the biggest bowl of rice you’ve ever dreamed of.’

  ‘Well, we won’t be getting out of here fast if you keep picking fights, Jack,’ said Miyuki. ‘What were you thinking of?’

  Jack explained his tactic. ‘We need to make our move before we become too weak to fight back.’

  ‘Agreed. Let me take out the guard with Fall Down Fist.’

  Jack nodded his assent at the plan.

  ‘Skullface is coming back,’ whispered Yori urgently.

  ‘OK, as soon as I step out to fight, Miyuki will jump the guard,’ instructed Jack. ‘Yori and Saburo, see those barrels by the port bow? Make a run for them, push a couple over the side and then we’ll all jump ship together. We can use the barrels as life rafts.’

  Nodding, the four friends readied themselves for their escape attempt.

  But Skullface and his gang seemed to have forgotten about his promised threat. They sat themselves down by the cage, greedily stuffing their faces with food.

  ‘Anyone hungry?’ asked Skullface, wafting a plate piled high with steaming rice in front of the prisoners’ noses.

  Before he could help himself, Saburo replied, ‘Yes! I am.’

  Skullface’s black hole smile reappeared.

  ‘Of course you are,’ he said, shovelling a thick slice of fresh fish into his own mouth and chewing appreciatively.

  He finished his meal and stood up. ‘Here’s the deal. We’ll feed four prisoners. No more. So who will it be?’

  A Japanese sailor, skinny as a rake and with a desperate look in his eyes, threw himself to the ground. ‘Me, please,’ he begged.

  Skullface nodded. ‘Who else?’

  The Golden Tiger’s last crewmember couldn’t hold back and prostrated himself beside the sailor.

  ‘Only two more places left for lunch,’ said Skullface in a lighthearted tone.

  Again, Jack noticed the Korean slave was keeping silent, despite appearing the most starved among them. None of the other prisoners were jumping at the opportunity for food either.

  Skullface became impatient for volunteers. ‘The plump one then,’ he said, pointing to Saburo.

  ‘And who’s going to be the fourth?’ asked Tiger, his eyes raking over the wretched prisoners.

  ‘What about the gaijin?’ the crucifix pirate suggested.

  Skullface shook his head. ‘No, Crux, he doesn’t deserve food. Besides, I have other plans for him.’ He looked round the cage. ‘That miserable captain looks like he could do with cheering up.’

  As the guard opened the cage to let the chosen diners out, Jack nodded to Miyuki. She made a move to rush the guard. But out of nowhere a spearhead blocked her path.

  ‘Not so fast, my pretty one,’ snarled Snakehead, keeping the spear’s barb to her chest.

  One by one, the four prisoners stepped out of the cage. Saburo, wary and reluctant to move, was forced out by spear tip. Skullface politely invited them all to sit in a circle facing one another.

  He looked round the deck in irritation. ‘Where’s that new cabin boy got to?’

  The young pirate appeared a moment later, carrying a large plate. Skullface snatched it from him before clipping the boy round the ear. ‘Be quicker next time, or I’ll invite you to lunch too.’

  The pirate boy bowed apologetically, then hurried away.

  With a flourish, Skullface presented the plate upon which lay four translucent slices of fish.

  ‘Fugu sashimi!’ he announced.

  Miyuki gasped. Jack saw the look of horror on her face. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Fugu is highly toxic,’ she replied. ‘It’s the most deadly poison a ninja can use. We put it on blowdarts. You can eat fugu, but it must be prepared properly. Otherwise you’ll die.’

  The four prisoners were clearly aware of the lethal nature of the dish before them. The captain of the Golden Tiger got to his feet.

  ‘Thank you,’ he blustered, ‘but I’m not that hungry.’

  The pirate Crux shoved the captain back down. ‘Don’t you know it’s rude to leave the table before you’ve finished.’

  Skullface leant over the prisoners and, with a twisted grin, announced, ‘Only one slice of the fugu is poisonous. Enjoy your meal!’

  17

  Dying

  The four prisoners glanced at each other in wide-eyed panic. On the plate, death awaited one of them. But the four slices looked identical. No one wanted to make that first choice.

  ‘Eat up!’ encouraged Skullface, holding a knife to Saburo’s throat. ‘Or die …’

  Faced with no alternative, Saburo extended a trembling hand. Undecided, it hovered over the plate of fugu.

  ‘Don’t do it, Saburo!’ cried Jack, shaking the bars of his cage in impotent rage. He couldn’t believe the pirates were gambling with his friend’s life like this.

  ‘Shut your trap!’ snapped Skullface, savouring the futility of Jack’s protests. ‘He’s got a one-in-four chance.’

  Cajoled by the knife at his neck, Saburo selected the slice furthest from him. Taking a deep breath, he placed it tentatively on his tongue. Then, closing his eyes, he began to chew.

  ‘Swallow it all,’ insisted Skullface.

  With a forced effort, Saburo consumed the potentially deadly fish. Once Skullface was satisfied that every bit was gone, he removed the knife and moved on to his next victim – the crewman.

  In a frantic bid to escape the fatal meal, the crewman scrambled away. But Tiger seized him by the hair and dragged him back. Wrenching the man’s head up, Tiger held his jaw open. Skullface, using the tip of his knife, delicately picked a fugu slice and dropped
it into the man’s throat before clamping his mouth shut. Choking, the crewman eventually swallowed the fish whole and Tiger let him go.

  Resigned to his fate, the Japanese sailor took the slice nearest him and, in full knowledge that this could be his last meal, he savoured every bite.

  With three slices gone, the captain tried to stall for time. He clearly hoped he would see some telltale symptoms in the other prisoners before he had to commit to eating the last piece of fugu.

  ‘No point holding out,’ said Skullface. ‘The effects aren’t immediate.’

  With violent encouragement from Crux, the captain of the Golden Tiger ate the last remaining slice. The four prisoners stared at one another, grimly awaiting the signs that one of them was dying … meaning they would live. As this sick game progressed, the pirates started to bet on the outcome.

  ‘I’ll wager three pieces of silver that the fat one dies,’ said Skullface.

  ‘Four pieces on the captain,’ said Crux, giving his charge an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

  More stakes were placed as a crowd of pirates gathered round for the macabre spectacle. The four prisoners became pale with dread. Inside one of their stomachs a poison was slowly leaking into their bloodstream, all for the entertainment of the Wind Demons.

  ‘My lips are tingling!’ gasped Saburo, turning to Miyuki in terror.

  The betting among the pirates reached fever pitch at this revelation.

  ‘That’s normal,’ reassured Miyuki. ‘It’s the reason why people eat fugu in the first place.’

  Saburo calmed a little, but Jack could see he was close to hysteria. And he couldn’t blame his friend.

  ‘No more bets,’ announced Skullface, and the ninja pirates settled down to await the outcome.

  Still none of the prisoners displayed any symptoms of poisoning. Jack began to hope that Skullface was simply playing a cruel joke on them. But the betting had been deadly serious and Jack realized his optimism was misplaced.

  The Japanese sailor picked at his teeth to reveal bloody gums and this triggered a frenzy of excitement among the pirates. But Jack knew this was more likely the result of malnutrition than poison.

  The tension grew as the time ticked by.

  Jack clasped the bars of the cage and whispered, ‘You’ll be fine, Saburo. I’m sure you will.’

  Saburo glanced at Jack, a resigned expression on his face. He attempted a brave smile. ‘My mother always said my appetite would get the better of me one day.’

  ‘Look! My one is winning,’ Snakehead cried excitedly.

  He pointed to a bright red rash that was blossoming over the skin of his chosen bet. The other pirates studied the unlucky fugu victim.

  Realizing all eyes were on him, the crewman glanced down at his erupting skin. He broke into a cold sweat and began to claw at his neck.

  ‘Water!’ he begged. ‘My throat’s burning.’

  The crewman tried to stand, but his legs gave way and he collapsed to the deck. His body started convulsing as he lost all coordination.

  ‘Ple … eeease … help … me … breathe …’

  The crewman’s speech became incoherent. He floundered on the deck like a suffocating fish. As the crewman died before their eyes, there was a great shout of triumph.

  ‘Yes! It’s not me!’ cried the captain, punching the air in joyous relief.

  The crewman’s movements gradually weakened until he lay still, an occasional blink being the only vital sign he was alive. Then he gave a last shuddering breath and his eyes became fixed in a dead stare.

  Snakehead and several other pirates began celebrating their win, while the rest of the crowd cursed their bad luck and dispersed. Jack himself experienced a bitter twist of emotions – elation that Saburo had survived and immense sadness at the passing of the crewman. No man should have to suffer such a horrible and agonizing death.

  With the show over, the three surviving prisoners were flung back into the cage. Saburo rejoined his friends, who welcomed him with open arms. The captain, still grinning at his fortune, slumped gratefully in his corner. But the Japanese sailor remained where he’d been thrown, a rash visible across his face, his body twitching erratically, barely breathing.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Skullface with mock concern. ‘It appears the cook didn’t prepare any of the fugu properly.’

  He began to laugh, a cruel cackle that rose in pitch as the captain and Saburo’s expressions changed from relief to deep shock. Skullface strode away with his gang, leaving the three prisoners to their fate.

  As the bleak realization sank in, the captain began to blubber. ‘NO … no … not me … I don’t want to die.’

  The Japanese sailor was no longer breathing and his body lay still.

  ‘I can’t feel … my tongue,’ said Saburo in alarm.

  Without wasting a second, Miyuki grabbed the jug of seawater and brought it to Saburo’s lips.

  ‘Drink!’

  Saburo stared at her in bewilderment, but she forced the jug into his mouth, making him take several gulps. Saburo immediately vomited at her feet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ exclaimed Jack, rushing to support his friend.

  ‘More!’ ordered Miyuki, tipping the jug up. ‘If we can flush his stomach of the poison, there’s a chance he may survive.’

  Saburo heaved again, and this time small slivers of half-digested translucent fish splattered across the deck.

  In the corner, the captain was sobbing loudly. ‘I don’t want … to die … don’t want to …’

  ‘Stick your fingers down your throat,’ instructed Miyuki, but the captain was too absorbed in his own self-pity to follow her advice.

  Saburo was becoming drowsy. Jack and Yori eased him to the floor. They lay their friend on his side along the rear of the cage, Yori rolling his pilgrim stole into a makeshift pillow. Miyuki hunted through the folds of her clothes, pulling out a small pouch that the Wind Demons hadn’t discovered on her. She rifled inside it and took out a twist of paper containing a black tablet.

  ‘Hold his head steady,’ she told Jack and Yori.

  Saburo’s breathing was laboured and he felt like a dead weight in Jack’s hands. All of a sudden, Saburo went into spasm.

  ‘By the love of Buddha, stay with us,’ pleaded Yori, tears running down his cheeks.

  Saburo’s convulsion eased and he turned weakly to Yori. ‘Not … going … anywhere … my friend.’

  ‘Eat this,’ Miyuki ordered, shoving the black square into Saburo’s mouth.

  ‘It tastes … disgusting,’ lisped Saburo.

  ‘Of course it does, it’s charcoal. It’ll bind with the toxin inside you and prevent further absorption. Now swallow it, before your body can’t even do that.’

  Saburo crunched down on the tablet. On the other side of the cage, there was a heavy thump as the captain keeled over, clutching his chest.

  Jack and Yori gently lay Saburo back on his pillow. His lips twitched into a sad smile.

  ‘Wish … I was … seasick … now …’ he wheezed.

  Kneeling by his side, Yori put his hands together and began to murmur incantations.

  Jack turned to Miyuki. ‘Is there nothing more we can do for him? It’s a ninja poison – don’t you have an antidote?’

  Miyuki gravely shook her head. ‘There’s no known antidote to fugu. But Saburo’s strong. All we can do now is wait and pray.’

  18

  Pirate Boy

  Saburo gazed up into Jack’s face. He looked almost peaceful. But Jack knew that was the effect of the fugu. Miyuki had explained that the fish’s toxin slowly paralysed the muscles, leaving the victim fully conscious until the lungs gave out and the person died from suffocation. That’s what made it such an effective poison for ninja assassinations.

  ‘Can you still breathe?’ asked Jack.

  Saburo blinked his eyes twice. Yes.

  ‘Wriggle your toes.’

  Jack glanced towards Saburo’s feet, but nothing moved.

  ‘
That’s good,’ he lied, not wishing his friend to give up hope. ‘Now, can you feel your hands?’

  Saburo blinked once. No.

  ‘Hang on in there,’ urged Jack. ‘Miyuki says if you can just survive the night, you’ll make a full recovery.’

  Two blinks.

  Yori remained at Saburo’s side, deep in prayer. Jack stood and joined Miyuki where she was tying his pilgrim jacket to the bars as a sunshade for Saburo. It was now mid-afternoon, the sun relentless as the pirate ship continued on its southern course. Jack helped her secure the last corner.

  ‘So how many people have survived fugu poisoning?’ asked Jack under his breath.

  Miyuki thought for a moment. ‘One.’

  Jack stopped what he was doing and stared at her in disbelief.

  ‘That I know of,’ added Miyuki hurriedly. ‘It was Soke. That’s how I knew what to do to limit the poison.’

  ‘So what happens if Saburo stops breathing?’

  Miyuki chewed her lower lip, her expression uncertain. ‘If it comes to that, I’ll have to breathe for him.’

  Jack furrowed his brow. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ll blow air into his lungs – hopefully keeping him alive until the poison wears off and he can breathe on his own again.’

  Jack had never heard of such a bizarre remedy, but he trusted Miyuki and the mystic healing abilities of the ninja, having benefited from their skills himself.

  ‘Can’t you also use kuji-in?’ he suggested.

  Miyuki considered this. ‘Ninja magic won’t have any effect on the poison … although Sha might keep his heart and organs strong. It’s worth a try.’

  Miyuki knelt close to Saburo. Clasping her hands together, she extended the index finger and thumb to make the hand sign for Sha. With eyes shut, she moved her hands in figure-of-eight patterns over his chest and chanted the healing mantra.

  ‘On haya baishiraman taya sowaka …’

  Saburo’s laboured breathing seemed to calm almost at once. Sitting next to Miyuki as she performed the ritual, Jack used his pilgrim stole to waft cool air over Saburo’s prone body while Yori continued to pray, each of them doing what they could to save their friend’s life.