The Ring of Water

by Chris Bradford

  ‘It’s a sign of our detachment from the world,’ Jack explained, steadying the basket with his hand.

  ‘Strange to hide your face like that.’

  Their drinks arrived and, much to Jack’s relief, Ronin was distracted from further enquiry.

  ‘I’ll pour,’ Ronin offered, fumbling with the teapot. With an unsteady hand, he decanted a cup and pushed it across the table to Jack.

  ‘Kampai!’ said Ronin, knocking back his saké in one.

  Jack took a sip. The tea was extremely bitter and of poor quality. Ronin, smacking his lips appreciatively at the rice wine, spotted Jack’s shakuhachi on the table.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to play one of these,’ he said, picking up the long bamboo flute that was the other symbol of the komusō monk. He put his lips to it and blew hard. A strangled screeching sound burst out.

  ‘Must be broken,’ he said, giving it a cursory inspection before handing it back. ‘Anyway, where are you headed?’

  ‘South,’ replied Jack, quickly finishing off his tea. The conversation was entering dangerous territory again.

  Ronin sucked in air between his teeth. ‘Dangerous. Many bandits.’

  ‘Thank you for the drink,’ said Jack, picking up his pack and swords, wrapped in a cloth so as not to rouse suspicion.

  ‘Tell you what, Takeshi, I’ll be your guide.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  ‘But I insist,’ he said, getting unsteadily to his feet. ‘Don’t want a monk getting into trouble, do we?’

  Jack took off at a good pace down the road and entered the mountain forest.

  ‘In a real hurry to pray, aren’t you?’ remarked Ronin, catching up as they hiked through the countless cedar trees. ‘Good thing I know a short cut!’

  He dragged the protesting Jack off the main road and along a narrow path that cut through the woods, following the edge of a narrow gorge. They hadn’t gone far when Jack began to feel drowsy and a wave of nausea hit him.

  Seeing Jack stumble, Ronin said, ‘You should rest a while.’

  In no fit state to argue, Jack let himself be helped over to a tree and sat down. His limbs felt as heavy as lead and the earth seemed to be rolling beneath him. He closed his eyes against the sickening sensation …

  43

  LIVE TARGET

  ‘You drugged me!’ shouted Jack, backing away, one sword raised at Botan, the other now at Ronin.

  ‘I did?’ replied Ronin. And then the memory slowly dawned upon him as well. ‘You were the komusō monk?’

  ‘I thought you were honourable. A man of bushido! A samurai!’

  ‘It was the drink!’ he implored, shaking his bottle with disgust. ‘I was desperate and needed work. I was told we were trapping a spy … disguised as a monk! And I have good reason to hate spying monks.’

  Jack ignored his pleas. ‘That’s why the gambler in Kizu knew your name. You’re one of Botan’s gang! How can I trust you now, Ronin?’

  ‘I’ve been helping you since –’

  ‘But I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you!’ interrupted Jack.

  Ronin lowered his head in shame. ‘I made an unforgivable mistake.’

  ‘Is that you or the drink talking? It’s no surprise you’re a ronin. No master would want you in their service!’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt this lover’s tiff,’ smirked Botan. ‘There are more pressing matters at hand. Now what did you do with the rutter, Ronin?’

  Jack glared at Ronin, equally eager to hear the answer.

  Ronin regretfully shook his head. ‘I … I can’t remember.’

  ‘You’re a useless waste of a samurai, Ronin,’ said Botan, throwing up his arms in frustration. ‘No wonder you failed your father.’

  Anger flared in Ronin’s eyes. Brandishing his katana, he charged at Botan.

  ‘Put down your swords!’ shouted a man emerging from the forest. It was the gambler from Kizu. ‘Or else your friend dies!’

  Ronin stopped in his tracks when he spotted Hana, a knife held to her throat by the gambler.

  ‘Perfect timing!’ said Botan.

  Three more men emerged from the forest to surround Jack and Ronin.

  ‘If you harm one hair on her head,’ growled Ronin. ‘I’ll –’

  ‘You’re in no position to make threats,’ said Botan. ‘Do as Shoda says.’

  With no alternative, Jack and Ronin laid down their swords. Immediately, they were both seized and forced to their knees.

  ‘This is your last chance, Ronin. Where’s that book?’

  ‘I told you I don’t remember.’

  ‘Perhaps this will jog your memory,’ said Botan. He turned to one of his men. ‘Tie the girl to that apple tree over there.’

  Once Hana’s arms had been bound to the trunk, Botan borrowed Shoda’s knife and stood beside her. ‘Tell me, or I’ll cut this little girl’s tongue out.’

  He grabbed Hana around the head and forced her jaw open. She struggled and squealed, but Botan was too strong.

  ‘Have mercy!’ cried Ronin. ‘She’s got nothing to do with this.’

  Ignoring him, Botan put the blade inside Hana’s mouth.

  ‘Stop!’ shouted Ronin. ‘I think … I might remember.’

  Botan smirked. ‘See, all it took was a little encouragement.’

  ‘It’s still a blur,’ Ronin admitted, rubbing his forehead. ‘I don’t even recall the robbery! I just remember waking up next to a gorge … a bearded man … in red robes … sat before me, gibbering away in rhymes … I thought I was dreaming or gone mad … He had a book in his hands – the rutter I presume – and riddled me for it … but I got the answer wrong …’

  ‘What nonsense!’ snorted Botan, raising the knife once more to Hana’s terrified face.

  ‘No!’ said Jack. ‘He must be talking about the Riddling Monk.’

  Botan and his henchmen laughed at this. ‘He’s just a myth. A story told to scare little children.’

  ‘But I’ve met him,’ Jack insisted, desperate to save Hana. ‘I can take you to the shrine he prays at.’

  Botan released Hana from his grip and walked over to Jack.

  ‘You’d better not be lying, gaijin,’ he said, waving the knife menacingly before him. ‘Otherwise, I’ll cut out far more than your tongue.’

  ‘Release Hana first.’

  Botan contemplated this. ‘No, but you can … with these.’ He pulled out five shuriken from a pouch on his obi.

  Jack’s eyes widened in disbelief at seeing the throwing stars his ninja friend Tenzen had given him.

  ‘I found them in your pack,’ explained Botan, noting Jack’s expression with curiosity. ‘Don’t tell me you pretend to be a ninja too!’

  Jack didn’t reply.

  ‘We’ll soon find out. Shoda, put a fallen apple on the girl’s head. We’re going to have a little game before we leave to find this Riddling Monk.’

  Botan held one of the shuriken in his right hand and took aim at Hana, who stood petrified, still tied to the tree.

  ‘The problem with a live target is that they often scream –’ he threw the star ‘– and bleed.’

  The pointed shuriken struck her. She cried out as blood began to flow. The throwing star’s razor-sharp edge had clipped her right ear.

  Botan passed Jack a ninja star. ‘Let’s hope, for Hana’s sake, you’re more accurate than I am. Hit the apple, she goes free. But if you don’t …’

  44

  BULLSEYE

  Jack hadn’t practised with a shuriken since leaving the ninja village. He weighed the weapon in his hand, trying to get the feel of it again. The stars were deadly, capable of wounding, incapacitating and even killing their victims.

  For a moment, Jack considered using the shuriken to attack Botan or one of his gang, but Shoda had his knife again and was close enough to slay Hana before he’d taken two steps. Ronin was still on his knees, morosely staring at his bottle of saké, and could no longer be trusted to help.


  ‘I need three attempts,’ stated Jack, indicating the other shuriken in Botan’s hand. ‘It’s been a while since I threw one of these.’

  Botan eyed him suspiciously. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

  Jack lined himself up with Hana. She was a good thirty paces away. He couldn’t afford to make even the slightest error of judgement. He’d have to allow for the breeze, while the growing drizzle of rain made the throwing star slippery to hold. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he decided on an over-arm technique and launched the star at Hana. The shuriken whistled through the air but was wildly off target. The point slammed into the trunk beside Hana’s right wrist.

  ‘You almost took my hand off!’ she exclaimed, much to the amusement of Botan and his gang. ‘Have you ever done this before?’

  ‘Once or twice,’ Jack replied, giving her a sheepish look and taking the next shuriken from Botan.

  Hana’s face went pale as Jack tried an under-arm delivery this time. The spinning star flashed towards her, in direct line with her eyes. She screamed … as it lodged itself a hair’s breadth to the left of her head.

  ‘You’re getting closer,’ smirked Botan.

  ‘No more, Jack!’ Hana pleaded, staring in horror at the deadly star.

  ‘I think I’m getting the hang of it now,’ replied Jack, holding up the third shuriken.

  He flicked the weapon with a side throw. It spun crisply towards its target, striking the apple dead centre. The fruit exploded, sending chunks flying everywhere. Botan’s gang broke into spontaneous applause at the feat, while Hana almost fainted with relief.

  ‘Very impressive,’ said Botan, flipping the remaining shuriken in his hand. ‘But I can do better than that. Her heart!’

  ‘I thought you might,’ replied Jack, roundhouse-kicking the samurai in the stomach before he could release the star.

  As soon as Shoda saw his leader attacked, he drew his knife and went for Hana. Jack snatched the shuriken from Botan’s hands and launched it at Shoda. The star pierced his leg, hobbling him.

  ‘Run, Hana!’ cried Jack. ‘I’ve cut you free!’

  Hana glanced down to see the shuriken next to her right hand had sliced into the rope. She yanked hard and it snapped. One of Botan’s men rushed to seize her. Hana shook off her bonds, grabbed the shuriken beside her head and immediately drove one of the star’s spikes into the man’s arm. Yelling in pain, he clasped his bleeding wound. She kicked at his knee with all the force she could muster and there was a sharp crack before the man crumpled to the ground.

  Meanwhile, Jack dived to evade Botan’s sword slicing him in half as the samurai, roaring with rage, recovered and attacked him. Rolling to his feet, Jack ducked as another swipe of the sword almost beheaded him. His katana and wakizashi lay out of reach on the ground behind the samurai. Without these, he wouldn’t survive long.

  Ronin had snapped out of his despair as soon as he’d seen Hana set free and now leapt into action. He threw saké into the eyes of his captor, then used the man’s own swords to finish him off. Snatching up his discarded katana, he went to attack Botan but the fifth samurai of the gang stopped him and they became embroiled in a bitter duel.

  Unchallenged, Botan advanced on Jack. His sword whirled through the air and Jack retreated before the deadly blade. Driven back against a tree, he had nowhere to go and Botan closed in to seal his fate. But an apple flew out of nowhere and struck the samurai full in the face.

  ‘Bullseye!’ cried Hana, punching the air.

  Botan staggered backwards and Jack seized the opportunity to run for his swords.

  Hana’s delight was short-lived as Shoda came lurching towards her, knife in hand. She began to pelt him with apples too. But the gambler batted them away and she ducked behind the tree. Shoda came round the other side, blocking her escape. She screamed and ducked as he slashed for her face.

  Ronin, seeing her desperate plight as she ran round and round the tree, redoubled his efforts to defeat his own opponent. He smashed the man’s sword aside and mortally wounded him with a devastating slice across the belly. The samurai collapsed, clutching his entrails, as Ronin dashed to Hana’s rescue.

  The rain now fell in earnest as thunderclouds rolled over the mountains. Jack snatched up his swords and confronted Botan. Despite the samurai’s intimidating physique, Jack felt empowered with his Shizu swords in hand and raised both weapons into a Two Heavens guard.

  Wiping the apple remains from his face, Botan snarled at Jack, ‘That fancy sword work won’t save you!’

  Botan attacked and their swords clashed like lightning against the darkened sky. The samurai proved brutal. His immense strength was an advantage and Jack felt his arms shudder with every impact. He had to call upon all Masamoto’s sword training to defend against the onslaught.

  The rain ran into their eyes and the ground became treacherous underfoot as the wet earth turned to mud. Jack attempted an Autumn Leaf strike in the hope of disarming Botan, but the samurai kept hold of his sword and managed to counter with a thrust that sliced across Jack’s upper arm. Blood gushed out as the blade dug deep. Jack reeled away, parrying the sword to one side. He glanced at his injury. It was a flesh wound, but deep enough to compromise his left arm’s fighting ability.

  Botan knew this too and began to focus all his attacks on Jack’s weak side. A heavy blow caused Jack to lose grip on his wakizashi and he was left to rely solely upon his katana. Exhausted and bleeding, Jack was forced into a retreat. Botan kept up the pressure, hammering him with strike after strike. Jack stumbled over one of the dead samurai, slipping in the mud and falling to one knee. Seizing the opportunity, Botan was on top of him in an instant.

  ‘It’s time to claim my reward!’ he declared, aligning his sword with Jack’s neck.

  As the blade arced towards him, time stood still for Jack … then the steel tip of another blade pierced Botan’s chest. Groaning, the samurai clutched at his heart and fell to the ground, dead.

  Ronin stood there, thunderous and bloodstained. Shoda lay motionless at the foot of the apple tree. Hana, shaking like a leaf, appeared unharmed. Ronin took a step forward. Jack hurriedly got to his feet and raised his sword. Ronin may have just saved his life, but the samurai was no longer to be trusted.

  ‘What now?’ Jack demanded, his temper fired up by the heat of battle. ‘Are you going to drug me? Kill me? Steal my swords? Or have you been after the rutter all along? You’ve been leading me round and round. Never getting anywhere! You’re not a samurai. You’re a drunk and a liar!’

  45

  MOUNT JUBU

  ‘You’re right, Jack,’ admitted Ronin, a dark look on his face. ‘Though I never lied to you, I have failed you. Like I failed my father. And I failed myself. No master wants a drunkard for a samurai. I don’t deserve to bear these swords.’

  Ronin drove his katana into the earth. It stuck there, quivering with the force of his rage. Picking up his half-empty bottle of saké, he strode off into the pouring rain.

  Hana ran over to Jack. ‘Where’s he going?’

  ‘To the nearest inn, probably,’ said Jack, tearing a strip of cloth from Botan’s kimono to bind his bleeding arm.

  ‘But he didn’t say goodbye.’ Tears now mixed with the raindrops running down her face. ‘Ronin, come back!’

  Ronin kept walking, the bottle pressed to his lips.

  ‘We’re better off without him,’ replied Jack, taking another swatch of cloth and applying it to Hana’s bleeding ear. ‘He can’t be trusted. He was part of Botan’s gang.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Hana, turning on Jack. ‘Ronin saved my life. He killed Botan saving yours!’

  ‘He also drugged me and stole my possessions.’

  Hana stared aghast at Jack. ‘If that’s true, why’s he been helping you?’

  ‘Because he couldn’t remember robbing me in the first place! But you heard him; he had the rutter. And, for all we know, he would have taken everything again and killed me for the Shogun’s rewa
rd.’

  ‘That’s not the Ronin I know,’ protested Hana, defiantly folding her arms.

  Jack went over and wrenched the shuriken from the tree. He knew he wasn’t making perfect sense. Before Botan appeared, Ronin had just been about to walk away without accepting any payment. True, the samurai was flawed – volatile, unpredictable and ruled by the bottle – but he wasn’t evil. Jack sensed a deep loyalty and feeling of duty in the man’s heart. After everything Ronin had done for him, Jack now regretted the things he’d said in the heat of the moment. But none of it changed the fact that Ronin was responsible for his predicament.

  Jack collected the other four shuriken and put them in their pouch. Another of his possessions found. Only the rutter remained. And if Ronin had been telling the truth, then Jack knew where to look for the person who had it.

  ‘I’m going back to Kizu,’ announced Jack. ‘Hopefully, I can retrace my steps back to the Shinto shrine where I met the Riddling Monk.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Hana.

  ‘No, I need you to warn Akiko. This monk shouldn’t be too hard to find, unless he really is a myth and I dreamt him.’

  ‘He’s no myth,’ Hana revealed. ‘He lives in the old abandoned temple on Mount Jubu, north-east of Kizu, on the other side of the river. No one’s crazy enough to go there. But …’ She swallowed and seemed to go a little pale. ‘But I could guide you in its direction and head to Toba afterwards.’

  ‘Let’s go then before anyone else turns up,’ said Jack, pulling his damp kimono around him.

  He took off down the path before realizing Hana wasn’t following him. She still stood beside Ronin’s katana, her head bowed.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked.

  ‘Ronin will come back for his sword,’ she said, wedging the origami crane Jack had given her into a gap in the katana’s handguard. ‘And when he does, I want him to know he still has a friend.’

  Hana and Jack passed through Kizu in the dead of night. Once certain no one was patrolling the bridge, they crossed the river and immediately turned north-east off the road and into the thickest part of the forest.