The Ring of Water

by Chris Bradford

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ replied Jack, offering his hands to boost Hana over.

  Little did Hana know that Jack had trained in shinobi aruki, the ninja art of stealth-walking. He silently slipped over the wall and landed nimbly beside Hana in the moonlit garden. A small tea house was set beside a pond amid well-tended shrubs and bushes. A pebbled pathway wound through this sculpted landscape, passing a carved stone lantern before reaching the back entrance to the house.

  Avoiding the path – and the noise it would make – they crept towards the main shoji. The house was in darkness, but they knew the merchant and his wife were at home, having seen them return earlier that evening. As gently as she could, Hana eased the door open and peeked inside. The room was empty, except for an alcove containing a display of flowers and a hanging scroll of two birds perched upon a branch.

  Leaving the door open for a quick escape, they entered a darkened hallway, at the end of which was a wooden staircase. Cautiously, they ascended to the second floor. But as Hana stepped on to the landing, one of the floorboards creaked.

  They both froze.

  For what seemed an eternity, they listened for the alarm to be raised and the sound of pounding feet. But no one came to investigate. Breathing a sigh of relief, Hana and Jack began to check each of the rooms in turn.

  The first two were unoccupied and yielded nothing, but from the room overlooking the garden came the rhythmic sound of snoring. Jack put an eye to the crack between the shoji and the frame. The merchant lay on his back, fast asleep. Next to him, on a separate futon, was his wife – her head raised upon a box pillow, which supported her neck so her elaborate hairdo wasn’t spoiled during the night.

  As silent as a shadow, Hana tiptoed into the bedroom and began to hunt through the drawers of a finely wrought lacquered cabinet. She seemed to be taking an age rifling through its contents. Concerned the merchant or his wife would wake, Jack joined Hana in the search. But Akiko’s black pearl was nowhere to be found among the lady’s accessories.

  Shaking her head, Hana closed the last of the drawers. As she turned to leave, Jack noticed a gleam of silver concealed in her left hand. During the planning, he’d made it clear that they were to retrieve the pearl, and only the pearl. He gestured for her to put it back. Grudgingly, Hana returned the stolen jewel to its rightful place. It was then, with a clear view of the merchant’s wife, Jack spotted the gold pin still fixed in her hair – the black pearl almost invisible in the darkness.

  He motioned his find to Hana. She grimaced at the impossible task ahead. To remove the pin called for nerves of steel and a very steady hand.

  Jack, however, was prepared for just such a job. He’d once been tasked with stealing a pillow from beneath the sleeping head of the ninja Grandmaster. Through a combination of cunning and skill, Jack had succeeded where many others had failed.

  Quietening his mind in preparation for the task, Jack crept silently over to the sleeping woman. Crouching beside her, his breathing matching hers so as not to disturb her, he reached for the pearl. Ever so gently, he pulled …

  But try as he might, the pin was caught fast in the lady’s layers of hair. There appeared to be no way of removing it without waking her. Hana, seeing the problem, moved in to help. Ushering Jack aside, she reached over to undo the lady’s artful knot of hair. But a comb she’d secretly stolen slipped from the folds of her kimono and clattered to the floor.

  All of a sudden, the lady’s eyes opened.

  She stared in horror at Jack. A split second later, she let out a piercing scream.

  Jack grabbed Hana and they fled from the room on to the balcony, where they jumped to the garden below. Hitting the ground running, they leapt over the wall and disappeared into the darkness.

  15

  A NEW PLAN

  ‘I told you not to steal anything!’ said Jack as the two of them caught their breath in a paddy field outside the town.

  ‘It was just a comb,’ mumbled Hana apologetically.

  Jack fumed. ‘I had the pearl in my hand –’

  A snap of a branch made them both spin round. They were about to bolt when, weaving slightly, Ronin emerged from the cover of the forest.

  ‘Did you get it?’ he asked.

  Glaring at Hana, Jack shook his head.

  ‘What went wrong?’

  ‘The lady woke up,’ Jack replied through clenched teeth. He omitted Hana’s blunder, knowing Ronin wouldn’t be so forgiving.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ Hana asked Jack in a timid voice. Her eyes flicked apprehensively to the swords on Ronin’s hip.

  Shrugging, Jack slumped down on an old tree stump, his head in his hands. It would be almost impossible to retrieve the pearl now. The merchant and his wife would be on their guard and would have alerted the dōshin to the break-in.

  ‘We simply need a new plan,’ said Ronin, handing Jack’s staff and straw hat back to him. Then he settled himself against a tree, took a long draught from his bottle of saké, and closed his eyes.

  ‘Sleeping’s a great plan!’ remarked Jack, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

  ‘Never do anything standing that you can do sitting, or anything sitting that you can do lying down. Now let me think.’

  Leaving Ronin to his drunken contemplation, Jack stabbed angrily at the ground with the end of his staff. He considered abandoning the quest altogether. Was Akiko’s pearl really worth the risks they were taking? However slim his chances, the sensible thing to do would be to head for Nagasaki as fast as he could – instead of wasting time in pursuit of his lost belongings.

  Hadn’t the Riddling Monk said What you find is lost … and What you want is sacrificed? He’d just have to accept that Akiko’s precious pearl, though found, was otherwise lost to him.

  Compelled by Jack’s obvious dismay, Hana crept over to him. ‘I’m really sorry …’

  ‘Forget it,’ said Jack, his initial anger with her having passed. ‘This isn’t your problem. You shouldn’t have been involved in the first place. Listen, you can go if you want.’

  Hana laughed nervously. ‘Your friend’ll slice me into eight pieces if I do.’

  ‘I won’t let him.’

  Hana didn’t leave, though. She stood staring at Jack. She seemed almost reluctant to go, as if she didn’t know where to go.

  ‘This Akiko means a lot to you, doesn’t she?’

  Jack nodded, smiling at the very thought of her. ‘Akiko’s my best friend. She’s been by my side from the first day I arrived in Japan.’

  ‘Why’s she not with you now then?’

  Jack sighed deeply. Feeling the ache in his heart, he remembered the time he’d left Akiko in Toba to ensure her family’s safety, and then how she had said goodbye to him at the ninja village. ‘Akiko needs to be with her mother. A daughter’s duty,’ explained Jack.

  Hana nodded her understanding. ‘It must be nice to have a mother.’

  For the first time, Jack sensed a hollow loneliness behind the girl’s spirited nature. ‘Where’s your family?’ he asked.

  Hana shook her head. ‘What family? I’ve survived on my own for as long as I can remember.’

  Jack suddenly felt compassion for this girl thief. Like him, she was an orphan, but at least he’d been fortunate enough to experience family life. Hana had no one. And despite the traumatic loss of both his mother and father, as far as he knew he still had Jess waiting for him in England.

  The memory of his sister broke his melancholy and spurred him to act.

  Realistically, he couldn’t give up on his quest. Without his swords he was defenceless. Without money he’d starve. And without the rutter, he had no future. Although the pearl wasn’t essential for his journey, it was for the peace of his heart. Retrieving the gem was the first step in recovering not only his possessions, but hopefully his memory too.

  A complete blank still remained about what had happened to him. How had Manzo and his friends overcome him? He was a trained samurai warrior who’d fought in m
ajor battles and survived. He possessed the skills of a ninja and was in disguise at the time. Perhaps he’d been ambushed? Or maybe there’d been a whole gang of them? The only way to find out was to follow the clues he had, to get his life back piece by piece.

  And the first piece was Akiko’s pearl.

  He vowed to himself to try one more time to retrieve it, then he’d go to Kyoto to find his swords, before hunting down those who had the rutter. Once it was in his possession, he’d resume his journey to Nagasaki.

  ‘I must get back the pearl,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Hana offered.

  ‘Thank you, but you don’t need to,’ replied Jack, realizing the girl had enough problems of her own.

  ‘But I want to,’ Hana insisted. ‘It’s my fault you don’t have it now. Besides, I want to teach that merchant a lesson. He swindled me … and called me a nobody!’

  Jack saw the defiance in her eyes and, deeper down, the hurt the merchant’s cruel dismissal had inflicted.

  All of a sudden, Ronin sat up and announced, ‘We can make the merchant return your pearl – willingly.’

  ‘How?’ asked Jack.

  ‘To start with, I need to get a job.’

  16

  THE GAMBLER

  Clouds had gathered and a persistent drizzle fell from the sky as Ronin looked for a suitable place to shelter for the night. They kept to the outskirts of town, but most buildings appeared occupied.

  ‘When will it ever stop raining?’ complained Hana, hugging herself for warmth.

  Suddenly up ahead a door opened and light spilled into the rain-washed street. A man stepped out, looking thoroughly dejected. From behind him raucous shouts of ‘Odd!’ and ‘Even!’ punctuated the night air. A moment later, these were replaced by cries of elation mixed with groans of disappointment.

  ‘A gambling den,’ Ronin hissed as the three of them ducked into a side alley to avoid being seen.

  The man slammed the door shut, then morosely wandered down the road. As he drew near, Hana gasped. ‘I recognize him.’

  She squinted harder. Dressed in a dark blue kimono, the man’s topknot hairstyle indicated he was a samurai, although he wasn’t carrying any swords.

  ‘I think he’s the man I stole your pearl from,’ whispered Hana.

  ‘Are you certain?’ asked Jack, feeling a small thrill of hope at their unexpected good fortune.

  Hana nodded. ‘This isn’t a big town. There aren’t that many samurai around.’

  Ronin strode out of the alley and into the man’s path.

  ‘Do I know you?’ enquired the man, trying to make out Ronin’s face in the darkness.

  ‘No! And you don’t want to,’ Ronin replied, grabbing the man by the scruff of his kimono and dragging him into the alley. ‘But you do know this samurai!’

  The man’s eyes widened in shock when Jack removed his straw hat to reveal his blond hair and foreign face.

  ‘But … but … we left you for dead,’ spluttered the man.

  ‘Not dead enough,’ said Jack, clenching his fists in anger. He fought to restrain himself, calling upon the discipline Masamoto had ingrained in him. ‘Where are my belongings?’

  Overcoming his initial shock, the man stared defiantly at Jack and remained tight-lipped.

  ‘Answer him!’ ordered Ronin, driving his forearm across the man’s throat and pinning him to the wall.

  ‘I don’t know … what you’re talking about.’

  ‘We can do this the easy way or …’ Ronin pressed harder and the man choked. ‘Now where’s the money you stole?’

  The man gulped nervously. ‘I gambled it.’

  ‘All of it!’ exclaimed Jack.

  ‘I had a run of bad luck,’ snapped the man, as if that excused him. No longer able to meet their eyes, he mumbled, ‘I even lost my swords.’

  Ronin stared at the man in astonishment. ‘You bet your swords! What sort of samurai gambles his soul away?’

  ‘But it was a sure win,’ he protested. ‘The dice must have been loaded!’

  ‘Well, it just isn’t your night, is it?’ said Ronin. ‘You’re about to lose the kimono off your back too.’

  Ronin beckoned Jack closer. On inspection, the kimono had no identifying kamon and was of the same blue cloth as the one Akiko’s mother had given him. Jack nodded in agreement. Releasing the chokehold, Ronin ordered the man to hand over Jack’s clothes.

  ‘But I don’t have anything else to wear! I’ll catch my death!’

  ‘You never gave Jack that courtesy,’ said Ronin, unsheathing his sword as an additional incentive.

  Hurriedly, the man stripped down to his loincloth and stood shivering in the rain.

  ‘We know the fate of Jack’s swords,’ said Ronin, resting the tip of his katana over the man’s heart. ‘If you don’t want to end up like your friend Manzo, then tell us where the rest of his belongings are.’

  ‘I-I … don’t have them,’ stammered the man.

  ‘That’s plain to see,’ said Hana, giggling at the samurai’s scrawny torso.

  ‘Then who does?’ demanded Ronin.

  ‘Botan!’ he confessed, spitting the name angrily. ‘He blamed me for losing the pearl. Thought I’d gambled it. But I reckon he stole it for himself.’

  Jack and Ronin glanced at Hana, who was trying to suppress a grin.

  ‘Where’s this Botan now?’ pressed Jack, the rutter foremost in his mind.

  ‘How should I know? We parted company after Manzo’s death. He could be anywhere by now.’

  In the blink of an eye, Ronin flicked the razor-sharp kissaki up to the samurai’s throat, drawing a bead of blood. ‘You can do better than that.’

  ‘M-m-most likely Nara,’ blurted the man. ‘That’s where he’s from.’

  Ronin withdrew his sword. ‘You’ve been most helpful. Now for your reward –’

  ‘Wait!’ interrupted Jack, seeing the intent in Ronin’s actions. ‘I need to find out about my father’s diary and what they did to me.’

  The man laughed coldly at this revelation. ‘Of course … you can’t remember!’ His eyes flicked to Ronin, a smirk on his face. ‘I know you –’

  ‘Don’t change the subject. TELL HIM!’ roared Ronin, his face like thunder.

  The man’s bravado crumpled under Ronin’s ferocity. But just as he was about to reply, Hana hissed, ‘Dōshin!’

  The light from several lanterns could be seen coming up the street, accompanied by the sound of marching feet. A patrol was checking each and every alley.

  ‘Looks like your luck’s back in,’ growled Ronin, sheathing his sword with annoyance. ‘But if you say one word to the dōshin you’ll lose far more than your clothes.’

  Leaving the gambler in his loincloth, the three of them hurried away down the alley.

  ‘See you again, Ronin!’ called the gambler, daring a parting shot now he was safe.

  Ronin stopped in his tracks and glared at the man. ‘Pray you never do.’

  Cutting through Kizu’s backstreets, they emerged into paddy fields. Ronin spotted an old rice store and they ducked inside.

  ‘Do we have to stay here?’ protested Hana, holding her nose.

  Ronin nodded. ‘It’ll do for the night.’

  ‘But it smells like some animal’s died. It stinks.’

  ‘So do you,’ snarled Ronin, peering through the door to check the dōshin weren’t following. ‘We’ll need to keep watch. I’ll go first.’

  Jack found a dry spot in the corner of the storehouse and folded his blue kimono into a makeshift pillow. ‘Hana, you can sleep here. It doesn’t smell quite so bad.’

  Mumbling her thanks, Hana curled up, exhaustion overwhelming her as soon as she closed her eyes. Jack cleared a space for his own bed, but he wasn’t ready yet. Their encounter with the gambler had given him fresh hope they’d find the rutter. Rubbing the green silk omamori for luck, he now knew the amulet had been leading them in the right direction. They also knew who to look for – Botan.
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br />   As Jack settled down to sleep, a thought occurred to him. ‘Ronin, how did the gambler know your name?’

  The samurai turned on Jack, his dark eyes blazing. ‘What’s it to you?’

  Jack recognized the haunted look in Ronin’s face. ‘It just seemed rather odd –’

  ‘Listen, I’ve met many samurai in my time and made a few enemies along the way. I don’t always remember the reasons.’ He swigged on his saké. ‘Now get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.’

  17

  THE BODYGUARD

  ‘I’ve got the job,’ announced Ronin the next morning, triumphantly returning to the storehouse. ‘He’s even paid today’s wages in advance.’

  Ronin produced a cloth sack, opening it up to reveal several steaming manjū. While Hana and Jack greedily tucked into their breakfast, Ronin uncorked a fresh bottle of saké and went over the final details of his plan.

  ‘Best save the two redbean manjū for later,’ Ronin advised. ‘Now, the merchant closes his shop at the Hour of the Rooster, and I’ve learnt he and his wife like to walk along the riverside on their way home. There’s a wooded path that runs from it to their house, so that’s where you two will lie in wait.’

  ‘Are you certain this’ll work?’ asked Jack.

  Ronin stood, neatened his kimono and adjusted his swords. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

  ‘Can you see them yet?’ asked Hana as they hid in a ditch beside the path.

  ‘No,’ replied Jack, beginning to wonder if the merchant and his wife had taken a different route home.

  ‘Do you think something’s gone wrong?’

  ‘I hope not,’ said Jack. The sun was close to setting and there was still no sign of them … or Ronin. Their plan would be a lot more risky the darker it became.

  ‘Perhaps Ronin’s drunk.’

  Jack didn’t answer, not wanting to consider that possibility.

  The longer they waited, the more impatient Hana became.

  ‘Do you trust this samurai?’ she asked, digging at the earth with her blunt knife, Ronin having returned it. ‘I mean, you’ve only known him a few days –’