The Ring of Water

by Chris Bradford

‘How should I know?’ hissed Jack, his voice thin and lost in the emptiness of the hall as the Riddling Monk’s words plagued his mind. Like an incessant irritating tune, he couldn’t get the riddle out of his head.

  Getting to his feet, Jack edged round the bronze Buddha, his hands out in front ready to fend off any attack.

  Know this! What you find is lost. What you give is given back. What you fight is defeated … What you fight is defeated … What you fight is defeated …

  Turning the corner, Jack came face to face with a fire-red monster. Fearsome, with a wild moustache and a single black eye, it towered over him. In his panicked state, his brain barely registered that the monster was merely an oversized Daruma Doll. And the unexpected shock of seeing it in the darkness sent Jack fleeing from the temple.

  He flung himself through the doors and outside, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He knew he’d let his imagination run away with him, but it didn’t make the terror any less real. He was certain he’d felt the Riddling Monk’s presence and a shiver ran through him.

  Stopping to get his breath back on the steps, Jack heard Hana scream …

  28

  PLUM FLOWER POLES

  Jack burst into the garden as Hana’s cry of pain turned to laughter – the same laughter he’d heard from the Buddha Hall. Ronin sat cross-legged upon the garden’s veranda, his chin resting upon the hilt of the bokken he’d picked up. Hana was lying on the floor amid a small forest of poles.

  ‘You must be relaxed and free-flowing –’ instructed Ronin.

  ‘How can I? I’m always falling off!’ said Hana, rubbing her rear.

  Ronin scowled at her. ‘Don’t interrupt! If you want to learn, keep your mouth shut.’

  Hana nodded obediently and sealed her lips.

  ‘A rigid body is easily knocked off centre,’ he explained. ‘A flexible fighter, one relaxed as if drunk, can easily dodge, recoil and strike from any angle. To master the art of balance you need to find your centre.’

  Hana spotted Jack. ‘I’ve saved you some food,’ she said, pointing to a dish piled high with rice and fish. Then she saw the worried expression on Jack’s face. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  ‘I thought you were in trouble.’

  Hana laughed again. ‘I am! Ronin’s teaching me.’

  ‘And I have an inept student!’ huffed Ronin, taking a swig of saké and turning to Jack. ‘I hope you prove better.’

  ‘What are they?’ asked Jack, eyeing the peculiar arrangement of wooden stumps. At least a dozen of them stood in a spiral pattern, driven into the earth at different heights.

  ‘They’re plum flower poles,’ explained Hana eagerly. ‘Ronin built them to help improve my balance.’

  She leapt on to the first stump, then stepped up to the next level.

  ‘The higher you go, the more they wobble.’ Her arms wavered as she climbed. ‘And the harder it is to –’ She fell, this time managing to stay upright. ‘It isn’t easy!’

  Ronin tutted. ‘Keep your centre!’

  He irritably strode over and mounted the plum flower poles with ease. Halfway up, he leant back until his body formed an arc. To all appearances, he was completely off-balance and about to topple over.

  Ronin pointed to his stomach. ‘See, when I move, my centre is always above my point of balance –’ indicating his feet – ‘That way I always stay in control.’

  Jumping from one stump to another, he reached the topmost pole and stood on one leg, arms primed in a fighting guard.

  ‘Be nimble like a cat.’

  He leapt off to land lightly beside Jack. ‘Now you try. Remember, put the weight on the balls of your feet.’

  Jack tested the lowest pole with one foot. It hardly moved and he had little problem standing on it. As he climbed higher, he compensated for the growing sway of the poles with his body, while his feet instinctively sought the best placement. He discovered the plum flowers were just like being atop the main mast of the Alexandria.

  ‘You’ve done this before!’ said Ronin.

  ‘I was a sailor –’

  Without warning, Ronin threw his bottle at Jack. But Jack was ready this time and caught it confidently, not even wavering.

  ‘Good, you’re learning,’ said Ronin as Jack stepped down to return his prized saké. Picking up his swords from the veranda, Ronin offered them to Jack. ‘You need to practise with my daishō for tomorrow.’

  Jack bowed, holding out both hands to receive Ronin’s swords with respect.

  ‘I appreciate the honour, but why didn’t you take up Araki’s offer?’

  ‘Not a chance,’ snorted Ronin, seizing the bokken. ‘Any sword he lent you would be unbalanced and flawed. Araki may be honourable, but he’ll do everything in his power to ensure he wins.’

  Sliding the sayas into his obi, Jack unsheathed the two weapons and weighed them in his hands. They were functional, brutally efficient and well used. Their balance was good and the cutting edges expertly honed, numerous times. While they weren’t crafted like the Shizu blades Akiko had given him, he was confident he could defend himself with them.

  ‘You’re skilled in the Two Heavens,’ said Ronin, taking up a fighting stance, ‘and I only have a bokken. You should easily beat me.’

  With that, he struck at Jack’s neck. On instinct alone, Jack blocked the wooden blade and countered using the wakizashi. Ronin evaded the attack and came at him with a surprise upward cut. Jack barely moved out of the way in time. He was slow and unsure from lack of practice, while Ronin was an experienced and highly skilled swordsman.

  ‘Is that your best?’ challenged Ronin, and the duel really began.

  They fought through the garden, the huge standing stones forming a natural arena. As the night drew in, the two fighters flickered orange in the firelight. Hana watched with dread fascination from the veranda.

  ‘Come on, Jack! You can beat him!’ she cried.

  A sharp look from Ronin, though, made her quickly change allegiances.

  ‘Take him down, Ronin!’

  But Jack was warming to the swords and gradually his Two Heavens moves began to flow once more. Flint-and-Spark strike. The strike of Running Water. Mountain-to-Sea. Moving the Shadow. The Autumn Leaf strike. Ronin felt the pressure and retreated towards the plum flower poles. As Jack made a cut for his chest, Ronin jumped on to the first stump. He now had the advantage of height.

  ‘Follow me if you dare!’

  Jack drove him further up the poles, and the fight shifted to a mid-air battle. They leapt between the stumps, each seeking to gain the better footing. Ronin, however, was more adept with his balance and Jack’s knowledge of the Two Heavens no longer gave him the edge over the samurai.

  The duel progressed higher and higher. More of Jack’s concentration shifted to simply staying upright. Then he caught Ronin off-guard with a thrust for the stomach and the samurai was forced to make a desperate leap for another plum flower pole. He landed poorly and his free arm whirled in the air as he toppled sideways.

  Jack seized the moment to finish the duel. Stepping closer to execute the winning move, he realized too late that he’d been tricked. Ronin instantly regained his balance and swept Jack’s lead leg away with his bokken. Jack’s foot was knocked from the top of the pole and he tumbled to the ground.

  Hana wildly applauded the samurai’s victory.

  Ronin, high upon the plum blossoms, peered down at the vanquished Jack and placed the tip of his bokken on Jack’s stomach.

  ‘Keep your centre,’ he warned. ‘And don’t be deceived like that tomorrow!’

  29

  DEATH THREAT

  The water thundered over the cliff edge, plunging deep into the lush gorge below. A fine mist was thrown up and the magnificent view of Kyoto in the valley basin was veiled in a silvery sheen. This mystical quality was only deepened by the golden blanket of autumnal leaves that now swathed the mountainsides and appeared lit from within by the rays of the rising sun.

  From
where Jack stood on the river’s bank, he could see down on to the curving roof of the Kiyomizudera pagoda and the rest of the temple complex. Oblivious to the impending duel above, monks in saffron-coloured robes and pilgrims weary from travel stood upon the butai – the wooden platform that jutted out into the gorge and allowed visitors access to the legendary curative waters of the Sound of Feathers waterfall.

  The last time Jack had been here was to retrieve the Jade Sword. Even now he could see the shrine in which it was housed, upon a small island on the lip of the waterfall, a precarious set of stepping stones running to it from the bank. In his race with Yamato, he’d been the one to get there first. But their bitter argument while hanging off the cliff face had resulted in them both falling into the rock pool below. Only good fortune had saved them from drowning or breaking their necks.

  ‘I now truly believe these swords belong to your master,’ called Araki, patting the red-handled daishō on his hip as he approached along a mountain path. ‘To risk his life in such a quest proves it to be so.’

  ‘Are they the ones?’ whispered Ronin, Hana standing close by with Jack’s staff.

  Black sayas, mother-of-pearl inlay, red-woven handles. Jack nodded. He’d found his swords!

  He now had to fight for them.

  A crowd of Yagyu Ryū students followed in Araki’s wake. It was evident the samurai was held in awe by many of them, and an opportunity to see their hero in action was clearly not to be missed. As Araki took off his outer haori jacket, two of the students were immediately by his side to collect it. He stretched, tightened his obi round his waist and adjusted the swords on his hip.

  ‘Am I to see the face of my opponent before we begin?’ enquired Araki, raising an eyebrow at Ronin.

  Before Ronin could reply, there was a shout and the crowd of students parted as the towering bulks of Raiden and Toru forged a path for Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang. They surrounded Jack, Ronin and Hana.

  ‘I want to see his face too,’ said Kazuki.

  Jack hadn’t thought his situation could get any worse. But there was no hiding now. Even if captured or killed, he’d stay sword in hand and his head held high.

  ‘Kazuki,’ greeted Jack, giving Ronin back his hat and bowing curtly to his old rival. ‘How’s the hand?’

  ‘The gaijin samurai!’ exclaimed Araki with a look of delight upon his face.

  ‘It is you!’ snarled Kazuki, fury and astonishment halting him in his tracks. ‘I heard there was to be a duel over a pair of Shizu swords and knew you fought with Masamoto’s pair. But the ones on Araki-san aren’t Masamoto’s!’

  ‘No, they belonged to Akiko’s father,’ replied Jack. ‘She gave me the honour of bearing them.’

  ‘Akiko! She lives?’ queried Kazuki. ‘I thought … hoped I’d killed that traitor.’

  ‘She’s tougher than you think,’ retorted Jack.

  Kazuki held up his right hand. Covered in a black glove, the fingers were curled into a permanent and useless claw.

  ‘This is her fault,’ he spat. ‘When I’ve killed you, I’m going to punish your precious Akiko for her crime. She won’t be so pretty when I’ve finished with her.’

  Jack felt his anger start to boil, both at himself for having let slip Akiko’s survival and at Kazuki for his malicious threat. He would never let Kazuki harm her.

  ‘Is she here with you in Kyoto?’ demanded Kazuki.

  Jack didn’t answer. In spite of his error, Akiko remained safe as long as Kazuki had no idea of her whereabouts.

  ‘Where then?’ he demanded, drawing his katana with his left hand.

  ‘Kazuki-san,’ addressed Araki, stepping between them. ‘I appreciate you have debts to settle and traitors to punish, but first I have a duel arranged with this samurai.’

  ‘Samurai? He’s no samurai!’ said Kazuki with utter disgust.

  ‘Oh, but he is,’ corrected Araki. ‘He’s the infamous gaijin samurai. A master of the Two Heavens.’

  ‘I could do the Two Heavens,’ muttered Kazuki tetchily. ‘It’s nothing special and it didn’t help Masamoto in the end, did it?’

  ‘Please respect our arrangement, Kazuki-san,’ insisted Araki firmly, ignoring Kazuki’s bitter comments. ‘This duel is a matter of honour. Of course, if he survives, he’s yours. If not, you may have his … head.’

  Kazuki glared at Araki, then stepped back a pace and sheathed his sword.

  ‘Don’t disappoint me by dying too soon, gaijin,’ said Kazuki. ‘But if you do I want you to go to your grave knowing that I will find Akiko.’

  30

  WATERFALL DUEL

  ‘What a perfect day for a duel!’ said Araki, admiring the sunlight glinting off the waters. ‘This will be a fight to remember.’

  Jack turned to Ronin and whispered, ‘If I lose, I die. If I survive, I die. Not much of a choice, is it?’

  ‘You win a war one battle at a time,’ replied Ronin, his hand not leaving the hilt of his bokken. ‘Focus on this battle first.’

  The excited crowd organized itself into a large semi-circle to create a duelling area, its boundary marked by Yagyu Ryū students on one side and the waterfall behind.

  ‘When you are ready!’ said Araki, bowing formally to Jack.

  Putting aside his immediate concerns about Kazuki, Jack returned the bow. Araki drew his katana, slowly and precisely. The Shizu blade was like quicksilver in the sun.

  Faced with a battle against his own swords, Jack felt his resolve momentarily give way. Only now did he truly understand the awesome power of the weapon. Victory seemed etched into the very steel itself and Jack knew his defeat was no more than a single sword thrust away.

  Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Jack unsheathed both Ronin’s swords. In one flowing motion, he raised his katana to the sky and held the shorter wakizashi across his chest as a guard. He only had to get first blood, he reminded himself. A simple nick or cut would suffice.

  Araki seemed in no hurry to attack. He circled slowly and Jack kept in step with him, always maintaining a good sword length’s distance between them. Jack knew Araki was assessing his competence by the sureness of his footwork. The samurai then fell back into a side stance, his katana held low and the blade hidden behind his body. This made it very difficult for Jack to predict the direction of any impending sword strike.

  All of a sudden, Araki stamped his front foot.

  Jack jumped back, his swords primed to receive the attack.

  But none came.

  ‘Nervous?’ laughed Araki, once again circling like a hawk over its prey.

  Jack didn’t answer. The samurai was playing with him, but he wouldn’t give Araki the satisfaction of a response. Instead he waited patiently for the samurai to make his move.

  From nowhere, the tip of Araki’s sword soared high into the air, catching the sunlight. Jack was momentarily blinded by the glare. Yet he still heard the swish of steel as it raced towards him. Calling upon the blind fighting skills he’d learnt from Sensei Kano, Jack judged the sword’s trajectory and stopped the blade with the back of his wakizashi, before swiftly retreating out of harm’s way.

  The crowd gave a disappointed groan.

  Araki glared at Jack, clearly astonished and incensed his first attack hadn’t brought him instant victory.

  ‘Not many survive a Swallow strike,’ he commented coldly. ‘KIAIIIIII!’

  Araki screamed, whirling in with a vicious slice across Jack’s chest. Jack leapt aside, barely deflecting the assault due to its immense force. He attempted a counter-thrust to the gut, but Araki twisted from its path at the last second and darted away.

  ‘And fewer still, Strike Like Thunder,’ Araki seethed, wrestling to contain his frustration at yet another failed assault. ‘Now what skills do you have, gaijin?’

  Araki lowered his guard to tempt Jack in. Jack realized it was a trap, but he wouldn’t get a better opening than this. With lightning speed, he swung his wakizashi at the samurai’s head. Araki went to block it, exposing his
left-hand side, and Jack immediately thrust for the chest with his katana. A moment of panic flashed in Araki’s eyes at being duped, but he managed to redirect his weapon to clash with Jack’s katana.

  For a second, there was stalemate.

  Then Jack drove his blade along the length of Araki’s sword, trying to force it aside and strike for the heart … just as Masamoto had taught him … but Araki’s katana began to rise and fall like a wave, dissipating the strength of his thrust. His attack failed and Jack had to spin away before he impaled himself on Araki’s blade.

  Araki grinned. ‘Great Wave meets your Flint-and-Spark strike.’

  There was a smattering of applause from some of the Yagyu Ryū students. Araki was now performing for his followers, trying to appear as if the fight was under his control and he was merely tormenting Jack. But Jack knew otherwise. The samurai was disconcerted by the Two Heavens and threatened by his unanticipated skill as a swordsman.

  They fought on. Hana shouted encouragement, while Ronin observed in grave silence. But the crowd was distinctly one-sided, hissing and jeering every time Jack made an attacking move or defended himself successfully. Kazuki stood, arms folded, glowering. Meanwhile, Araki gave a running commentary on all his techniques. The lecturing was annoying, but Jack realized this was the point, to demonstrate his superiority and attempt to put Jack off his guard.

  The duel grew in intensity. Jack’s heart beat fiercely in his chest and the roar of the waterfall now mixed with the rush of blood in his ears. He was tiring and knew he could make a mistake at any moment. Araki was so precise and his techniques so flawless that Jack struggled to find a way to beat him. He was driven back by a particularly vicious thrust and his foot splashed down into the river.

  Of all the elements, a ninja should choose water to be his closest ally …

  Suddenly Jack recalled the Grandmaster’s teachings of the Five Rings and how to use nature to his advantage. He ducked as Araki’s blade cut for him.

  Not even the strongest may resist … It can be a weapon or a defence …