The Ring of Earth

by Chris Bradford

  The other option was that Gemnan was lying. The samurai was clearly an experienced interrogator and torturer. Maybe this was one of his techniques? To make Jack think he’d been betrayed – to get him to talk. Looking back on his capture, the guards on the gate had been utterly shocked at their discovery – not the reaction of informed men. It could be just pure bad luck on Jack’s part that the guard had chosen him for a song. If only Jack had practised ‘Shika no Tone’, he wouldn’t have been caught.

  Whatever the truth was, Jack wouldn’t be betraying anyone.

  He had to protect Akiko’s brother, and all the other innocent villagers. Besides, as Soke had said, there was no bargaining with this samurai lord. So revealing the village’s location wouldn’t change his fate. And all his efforts to survive and protect the rutter were to come to nothing. He’d endured years of gruelling samurai training, overcome insurmountable challenges, finally defeated his nemesis Dragon Eye, fought through a civil war and even become a ninja – only to die in this hellhole.

  He was destined for a painful death … unless he could escape.

  But how? The cage was locked; the bars solid. He was now stiff and dehydrated from squatting for hours in the sun. By morning, he’d be too weak to put up any resistance.

  As dusk fell, Jack knew this would be his best, and possibly only, opportunity. The samurai who’d been ordered to watch him was tired. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t enjoying his duty and couldn’t wait for it to be over.

  ‘Guard,’ croaked Jack, his throat parched.

  ‘What?’ he answered irritably.

  Jack managed hardly more than a whisper in response.

  ‘Speak up!’

  Jack tried again.

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ the man complained, stepping over to the cage. ‘Are you ready to confess?’

  Jack croaked an unintelligible reply.

  The samurai leaned in closer. As the guard’s ear drew level with his mouth, Jack thrust his arms through the bars, seizing the man’s head and inserting Finger Needle Fist deep into the guard’s ear canal. He shuddered with pain and tried to pull away, but Jack drove a Finger Sword Fist hard against the man’s throat, striking a pressure point Miyuki had shown him. The guard crumpled against the bars, groaning with agony.

  ‘Open the door.’

  ‘I don’t have the key …’ he moaned. ‘Gemnan has it …’

  Jack saw the guard reaching for his tantō. Without hesitating, Jack hit him with Fall Down Fist across the neck. The guard collapsed, unconscious. Jack reached through the bars and took the knife. Using the tip of the blade, he jimmied the lock open, just as his father had once shown him back in England.

  Jack tumbled out of the cage. He was so stiff he could hardly stand, let alone run. The samurai was still out cold. Whether Miyuki had betrayed him or not, he definitely had one thing to thank her for – the Sixteen Secret Fists. But he knew the man would soon come round. He took the guard’s katana along with his knife.

  Keeping to the wall, Jack darted silently through the darkness, the blood beginning to flow back into his legs. As he reached the gate to the courtyard, Jack spotted the prisoner who’d been staked to the ground. Whatever crime he may have committed, Jack couldn’t leave the poor man like that. Not at the mercy of the vicious Gemnan.

  Crouching down beside him, Jack cut loose his bonds. ‘You’re free,’ he whispered.

  The man didn’t reply. It was at that point Jack realized the prisoner had died. Not only had he been staked to the ground in the blazing heat but he’d been tied over a bamboo plant, its sharpened stems allowed to grow into him. Jack couldn’t believe the brutality of Gemnan.

  He remembered the other prisoners in the pit and considered trying to release them too. But before he could act, Jack heard the sound of the gate being unlocked. Sprinting for the cover of the tree, he used his Ring of Earth skills to blend in with the trunk, ensuring his arms covered his blond hair.

  Two samurai guards entered the courtyard, passing so close that Jack could have reached out and touched them.

  ‘I hate night duty,’ one of them mumbled.

  As soon as they had their backs to him, Jack silently climbed the tree. Once he was high enough, he leapt to the top of the nearest wall, landing with cat-like grace.

  ‘BREAKOUT!’ cried one of the samurai, discovering the unconscious guard and empty cage.

  Jack jumped from the wall as several samurai, carrying flaming torches, burst into the courtyard. He landed in an alleyway and ran for his life. As more shouts broke out around the castle, he scaled the bailey wall and dropped down the other side. He zigzagged through the town trying to avoid any samurai. Entering the market square, Jack saw the orange-red glow of torches heading his way. Samurai were converging on him from both directions.

  Desperately looking around, Jack spotted a water barrel beside a storehouse. Dashing over, he climbed in. Expelling all the air from his lungs, he took three deep breaths. The barrel was nearly three-quarters full, so by the time he’d submerged himself the water was over his head.

  Holding his breath, he waited. By the reflected light of their torches, he knew at least two samurai had stopped next to his barrel. As his breath ebbed away, Jack willed them to move on.

  But they didn’t.

  His lungs were approaching their limit and Jack screwed his eyes shut, drawing on all his ninja breathing training. An unconsciousness ninja is as good as dead.

  He couldn’t hold his breath any longer. Bursting from the barrel, he emerged, sword drawn.

  But all the samurai had gone.

  Clambering out, Jack gulped down several mouthfuls of water to slake his thirst from his day in the sun, before taking to the backstreets. Keeping to the shadows, he worked his way to the town’s outer wall. More a boundary than a barricade, Jack scaled it with little problem and dropped down on to the edge of the plain.

  Stealing himself for a suicidal dash to the safety of the forest, he prayed they wouldn’t spot him. Jack broke from the cover of the wall and ran hard. The earth pounded beneath his feet. The tall grass whipped past.

  ‘There he is!’ came a cry.

  A moment later, an arrow shot by, barely missing him, followed by another. But he daren’t look back.

  All of a sudden, he was aware of the sound of horses’ hooves. He’d never be able to outrun a mounted samurai. The darkened forest was drawing closer with every step. If he could reach it, he might just have a chance.

  Remembering his Dragon Breathing, he put on a burst of speed.

  35

  A FALSE ACCUSATION

  The shouts of the samurai were coming nearer and nearer with every step. Jack could almost feel the snorting breath of the horses upon his neck.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  With one last desperate effort, he lunged forward and the undergrowth enveloped him. Slipping through the bushes and vaulting a fallen log, Jack entered the forest. He weaved between the trees, the dense foliage and darkness covering his escape.

  Only when he was sure the samurai had lost his trail, did Jack slow his pace. He took a moment to catch his breath in a small clearing and gather his bearings. It was virtually pitch-black in the forest, but Jack identified the northern star through a gap in the canopy and calculated the direction he should head in.

  Suddenly he was seized from behind and thrown to the ground, a blade held to his throat.

  Jack smiled. ‘Miyuki,’ he said, more relieved than he could ever have imagined at seeing the girl.

  ‘How did you manage to escape?’ she demanded, the knife still at his neck.

  ‘Good to see you too,’ replied Jack, wondering if she had actually betrayed him. ‘I knocked out the guard.’

  ‘Just the one guard?’ she queried.

  Jack nodded. ‘I used a technique you taught me. Fall Down Fist. Then I evaded the other guards.’

  Miyuki reluctantly let him up.

  ‘Where are the others?’ asked Jack.

>   ‘Shiro’s gone to inform Shonin of your capture. Tenzen’s with him. Zenjubo went to find you in the castle. Let’s go,’ she said, shouldering her pack.

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait for him?’

  Miyuki shook her head. ‘Zenjubo can look after himself.’

  She strode off, heading south.

  ‘But isn’t the village that way?’ said Jack, pointing east.

  Miyuki glared at him. ‘Don’t think like a samurai. Think like a ninja. Do you want to lead the whole of Akechi’s army there? Do you? Why do you think he let you escape so easily?’

  ‘Easily? I was held in a cage. I had to pick the lock, leap a castle wall, hide in a water barrel and run for my life!’

  ‘The daimyo isn’t stupid. A single guard for a sworn enemy of the Shogun? Akechi let you escape.’

  She looked him straight in the eye, as if trying to peer into his heart. ‘I bet you struck a deal with him for your freedom.’

  Jack stared aghast at Miyuki. ‘I didn’t betray anyone!’ he protested.

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  Shonin, Momochi and Soke held council. Jack knelt before them in the farmhouse reception room. Miyuki, Shiro and Tenzen, having already given their account of the mission, sat at the back listening to Jack’s story of his escape. Zenjubo had yet to return.

  ‘And you did not reveal the location of our village?’ asked Shonin.

  ‘No,’ replied Jack.

  ‘He’s lying,’ said Momochi. ‘Are we to believe he overcame a guard and escaped from a locked cage all by himself? He must have betrayed us.’

  ‘NO!’ Jack insisted. ‘If anyone was betrayed, it was me.’

  ‘Please explain,’ said Shonin, holding up his hand to silence Momochi’s objection.

  Jack took a second to compose himself. Momochi had been undermining his defence from the very start, pushing for his immediate execution as a traitor. Now he wanted to turn the tables. To discover whether Momochi had betrayed him, or Gemnan had lied.

  ‘The daimyo’s torturer said a ninja,’ Jack looked directly at Momochi, ‘had informed them of my presence.’

  A moment of shocked silence passed between the three men. Soke looked at Momochi questioningly.

  ‘If you’re accusing me,’ contested Momochi, ‘then think again. From the outset I’ve made my disapproval clear, but I would never jeopardize the safety of our village. My family are here, remember. Shonin, I respect your authority and would have informed you of any such plan.’

  Jack was almost convinced Momochi was telling the truth. And so too, it appeared, was Shonin. That left Miyuki. But she’d been with him throughout the mission. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Jack realized. Miyuki had gone on her own to see the priest at the temple – at least, that’s what she said she was doing.

  ‘Perhaps it was someone else,’ suggested Jack, glancing over his shoulder at Miyuki.

  ‘Nonsense!’ snapped Momochi. ‘A ninja would know better than to endanger a mission like that. This samurai Gemnan was obviously trying to get you to talk. And I suspect you did!’

  ‘That’s not true. I was willing to give my life to protect this village,’ declared Jack.

  ‘I believe you, Jack-kun,’ said Soke.

  ‘You would!’ Momochi shot back irately. ‘But your judgement of character has been called into question once before –’

  ‘Enough!’ interrupted Shonin, seeing the old wound open up in the Grandmaster. ‘I’ve heard both of you and listened to Jack’s recount. What we need is an informed judgement. Where’s Zenjubo?’

  Miyuki bowed and spoke. ‘He returned to the castle. His plan was to rescue Jack – or ensure he didn’t talk.’

  Jack understood the cold-blooded implication of that statement. If he hadn’t managed to escape, he’d have been the victim of a ninja assassination.

  ‘Shonin,’ called a ninja in the doorway. ‘Zenjubo’s just coming into the square.’

  A moment later, Zenjubo walked in, dirty and travel-worn. He barely looked at Jack as he passed by. Bowing before the council, he made his report.

  Shonin listened without comment, then asked, ‘Has the village been compromised in any way?’

  Zenjubo shook his head. ‘The boy said nothing.’

  36

  ONE OF THE CLAN

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ said Miyuki.

  Jack was startled by the admission. She stood before him, her head bowed in respect. Miyuki had found him by the village pond, where Jack had gone after the council meeting to recover and gather his thoughts. The question of who’d betrayed him still remained unanswered. Although it was more than likely a ploy by Gemnan, Jack as a samurai was yet to be convinced of a ninja’s loyalty and honour to him. Shinobi may follow ninniku, but they weren’t bound by the code of bushido like the samurai were.

  When he’d seen Miyuki approach, Jack had tensed for yet another confrontation. But her remorseful attitude took him completely off-guard.

  ‘Apologize?’ said Jack.

  She looked up at him, her dark eyes, once so full of hatred, seeming to have thawed.

  ‘I was wrong,’ she confessed. ‘My bitterness at my family’s fate would only let me see you as samurai.’

  Jack listened, speechless. Was this the same girl who had thrown him into a manure heap? Knocked him out cold? Put a knife to his throat, twice?

  Miyuki continued. ‘Soke once told me that a single tree doesn’t make a forest. But I thought all samurai trees grew from the same seed. You proved me wrong. The spirit of ninniku is within you.’

  She placed a hand over her chest. ‘Jack, you have a pure heart. You didn’t betray us to the daimyo. In my eyes, that makes you a true ninja.’ She bowed low, this time holding it.

  ‘Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?’ she asked in a tremulous voice.

  Jack knew the Japanese valued apology highly. A sincere and respectful one was considered to wipe away all transgressions. He also realized it took Miyuki great courage to admit she was wrong, considering all the hostility that had passed between them. He wasn’t one to hold grudges. Besides, hadn’t he also been guilty of misjudging the ninja? Unless Miyuki was attempting a very cunning deception, it seemed doubtful that she’d betrayed him. And it would do him no favours to throw her apology back in her face. He decided to take the risk and trust her sincerity.

  ‘Of course,’ said Jack. ‘On condition that you’ll accept my apology for breaking your water pot.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, a smile lighting up her face.

  That evening, Shonin arranged for a celebration of Jack’s official induction as a ninja. He held a formal dinner in his farmhouse, inviting all the heads of family, as well as Tenzen, Miyuki and Hanzo. To Jack’s surprise, Miyuki chose the seat beside him.

  ‘May I?’ said Miyuki, offering to pour Jack his tea.

  Jack hesitated. After all the antagonism between them, he still couldn’t quite believe she was acting so amicably. He also recalled her lethal answer to the Ring of Water.

  ‘I haven’t poisoned it, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she laughed.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Jack replied, and, hurriedly thinking of an excuse, added, ‘It’s just, in England, a man pours his own drink.’

  ‘Well, you’re in Japan,’ she said, filling his cup.

  ‘What’s England like?’ asked Hanzo, who sat on Jack’s other side.

  Jack thought for a moment. An unexpected wave of homesickness hit him. He could recall green fields, dirty streets, bustling ports, the smell of baking bread, the stink of the tanneries, the peel of church bells on a Sunday, the laughter of his little sister. But these memories of home were fading like a ship in fog. He’d been gone too long, far too long.

  ‘Very different from Japan,’ he replied, a faraway look in his eyes. ‘But some things are the same. It’s an island like Japan. We have castles. Farms. But we grow wheat, not rice. No one drinks tea, though we do eat fish. Just not like this.’ He picked up a slice of r
aw salmon with his hashi and popped it in his mouth.

  ‘Do you have samurai and ninja too?’ asked Hanzo eagerly.

  ‘No,’ replied Jack, smiling at the idea. ‘But we used to have knights who fought for the King. They followed a code much like bushido called chivalry.’

  ‘But if you don’t have rice, tea or ninja, why would you want to go home?’ asked Hanzo, his brow creasing in bewilderment.

  Jack almost laughed out loud at Hanzo’s childlike logic, and was only stopped by the nagging worry tugging at his heart.

  ‘Jess … she’s waiting for me.’

  ‘Jess?’ queried Miyuki. ‘She’s your …’

  ‘Little sister,’ said Jack. ‘She was left in the care of an old neighbour. But I’ve been gone so long I worry she’s now on her own or in a workhouse.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ consoled Miyuki, hearing the anxiety in his voice. ‘If she’s half as resilient as you, she’ll have found a way to survive.’

  Jack bowed his head in acknowledgement of Miyuki’s kind words, but the gesture was more to hide the tears welling in his eyes. When he and his father had left Jess in England, she was barely five years old, innocent and vulnerable. That was how he still pictured her; and as her older brother and only surviving relative, it was his duty to look after her. He had to continue his journey to Nagasaki and home.

  Jack tried to put his concerns to the back of his mind. If he was worried for Jess, then Akiko was equally grieving for Kiyoshi. Somehow, Jack vowed, he would reunite them.

  Hanzo, in his youth and enthusiasm, was oblivious to Jack’s moment of sadness. Shovelling down another mouthful of rice, he said, ‘Tengu, tell me again how you escaped the samurai. Are you sure you didn’t use magic and fly out?’