Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky

by Chris Bradford

  ‘Thanks for the ride,’ the man said with a toothless grin. Dismounting, he stretched his legs and tottered off.

  Saburo’s jaw fell open, incredulous, as he watched the farmer go, perfectly able to walk.

  ‘Now there’s a wily old trickster!’ remarked Benkei with admiration. ‘I could learn a thing or two from him.’

  The villagers gathered together and Jack returned Rimika to her mother.

  ‘How can we ever thank you?’ said Takumi, bowing his head deep with respect.

  ‘Seeing Rimika safe is thanks enough,’ replied Jack humbly.

  Rimika beamed at him.

  ‘But there must be something more we can do?’ insisted Maiko, ruffling her daughter’s hair.

  ‘How about a bath?’ suggested Akiko, glancing down at her soot-stained kimono.

  Takumi and Maiko lowered their gaze, embarrassed.

  ‘Unfortunately, daimyo Matsukura’s samurai destroyed the only tub in the village,’ Takumi apologized. ‘But there is a natural hot spring further along the road, near where a stream crosses. I trust that will do.’

  ‘Sounds perfect,’ said Akiko, not wishing the villagers to feel ashamed of their lack of means.

  ‘Perhaps a meal before you leave?’ Maiko offered graciously.

  Jack glanced around at their devastated village with its ramshackle homes and empty rice barn. Whatever food they had left, he realized, would be their last. And these villagers were willing to give everything they had by way of thanks. This only reaffirmed to him that the risk they’d taken had been worth it to save such good people.

  ‘Just pray for my safe return home,’ said Jack.

  ‘We will. We certainly will,’ replied Takumi, putting his hands together.

  ‘And with daimyo Matsukura dead,’ added Akiko, ‘you should be more free to do so.’

  The joy in Takumi’s face died and he gravely shook his head. ‘I’m afraid the daimyo’s son and heir is equally cruel.’ He gave a heavy sigh at the burden they bore. ‘But we have time to gather what little we have and start afresh in a more Christian-friendly province.’

  Jack wished them well, but wondered what real chance they had, given that the movement of farmers was tightly controlled and the Shogun had outlawed Christianity throughout Japan.

  ‘We should go,’ said Miyuki, looking up at the sun, now a fiery eye in the smoke-laden sky. ‘We want to be as far from here as possible by sunset.’

  Collecting her horse from the barn, Akiko and Jack followed the others out of the village. As they headed down the road, Jack took a final glance back. The villagers were already on their knees, praying. Behind, looming over them like a belligerent god, the volcano rumbled away.

  ‘Did we really save them?’ asked Jack, thinking of the twin threats posed by the daimyo’s son and the Shogun.

  Yori nodded sagely. ‘None may know what tomorrow brings, so each day is a gift to be treasured. And you’ve given them that gift.’

  49

  End of the Road

  ‘Less than a day’s walk and you’ll be in Nagasaki, nanban!’ announced Benkei, polishing off his breakfast of rice and fish, which Miyuki had steamed over a hissing vent from the hot spring.

  They’d spent the night camped beside the volcanic pool and everyone was much revived from the combination of a good night’s sleep and an invigorating soak in the spring’s warm waters.

  ‘It’s almost the end of the road for you,’ remarked Saburo with a cheery smile.

  Finishing his rice, Jack nodded in acknowledgement. It was true his journey would soon be over. He couldn’t quite believe that he’d made it this far – alive. But now he was so close to his destination, he was filled with trepidation. Would Nagasaki deliver all that he’d hoped for – a ship bound for England? Or would the countless risks he and his friends had taken all be for nothing?

  But if fortune did favour him with an English or Dutch boat, Jack now considered what he might be leaving behind. There was the Shogun and his threat of execution, of course, as well as Kazuki and his obsession for revenge. These he’d be glad to see the back of. But he’d also be losing a valuable and irreplaceable part of his life: his friends.

  Jack gazed around the hot spring with its rock pools and the lush vegetation hanging like silken curtains from the trees. Within this idyllic encampment was almost everyone he cared for. Benkei, only known for a short while but whose wild antics and exuberance would be hard to replace. Saburo, whose jovial and big-hearted nature would be sorely missed. There was Yori, ever faithful, understanding and kind. Jack wondered if he’d meet anyone in England who could offer such calm wisdom and selfless friendship. There’d certainly be few English girls to match Miyuki for her cunning, devotion or deadliness. Then there was Akiko … Jack knew he could sail the Seven Seas for the rest of his life and never find a girl like her again.

  And very soon he’d be saying a final farewell to her; to all his friends.

  Saburo was right. It was the end of the road – in more ways than one.

  ‘Time to go,’ announced Akiko, tying the last of their packs on to her horse.

  Jack stood. But his feet refused to move. Despite the obvious peril he faced by staying in Japan and the pressing need to be reunited with his sister, he didn’t want to go on.

  There was a jingle of metal rings next to his ear. Yori smiled up at him, the Buddhist staff held firmly in his hand.

  ‘When climbing a mountain, the push for the summit can be the toughest part,’ he said, sensing the conflict in Jack’s heart. ‘You never know if you have the strength to complete what you started. Or what view awaits you when you reach the peak. But know this, your friends will be with you every step of the way.’

  Yori tapped his staff on the ground three times to underscore his point, the metal rings jingling, beckoning Jack on. Encouraged by his friend’s wise words yet again, Jack realized to stop now would be to betray his friends and abandon his sister Jess. That was something he could never do.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, Jack headed down the road, Yori at his side, Saburo and Miyuki guarding from behind, and Akiko and Benkei taking the lead. None of the friends talked much as they walked west through the forested foothills of Shimabara peninsula. They too felt the end coming.

  Though immersed in his own thoughts, Jack noted Miyuki was being extra vigilant, her eyes scouring the trees for the slightest sign of danger. Akiko kept tugging anxiously at the feathered flights of the arrows in her quiver, occasionally glancing back at him. And Saburo’s hand never left his saya. Even Benkei was relatively quiet for once.

  As they rounded a bend, Akiko held up her hand, silently bringing everyone to a halt. A cloaked figure sat upon a rock. His head was bowed and covered by a cowl. He leant upon his staff, still as a statue. With no one else on the road, his presence so early in the morning was disconcerting.

  50

  Bait

  ‘One of Kazuki’s ronin?’ whispered Jack as they retreated out of sight from the mysterious figure.

  ‘Could be,’ replied Akiko under her breath.

  ‘I suggest we double back and find a more stealthy route through the forest,’ said Miyuki, keeping her eyes trained on the surrounding trees.

  ‘He’s only one ronin!’ said Benkei.

  ‘Then why don’t you challenge him?’ suggested Saburo pointedly.

  ‘Me?’ exclaimed Benkei, alarmed at the proposition. ‘Shouldn’t someone more qualified do it?’

  ‘Don’t tell me Benkei the Great’s scared,’ Saburo mocked.

  ‘Of course not, I simply value my life higher than yours!’

  ‘Then you’ll be more careful with it than Saburo,’ said Miyuki, impatient at their boyish posturing. ‘Now go and find out whether he’s a ronin or not. If he recognizes you, then we’ll know.’

  ‘You’re using me as bait!’

  ‘I’ll have you covered,’ Akiko replied, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

  ‘Here, take one of my swo
rds,’ Saburo added helpfully, passing Benkei his wakizashi. ‘Just in case.’

  With great reluctance, Benkei accepted the wakizashi and slid it into his obi.

  ‘Other way up,’ corrected Saburo, twisting the saya so that the blade would emerge cutting-edge to the sky. ‘And try not to cut yourself.’

  ‘Superb advice, O great sensei!’ replied Benkei sardonically, bowing with a flourish of his hand.

  Jack had serious reservations about the plan, but before he could object Saburo sent Benkei on his way.

  Approaching the stationary figure, Benkei called nervously, ‘Good morning … are you a ronin?’

  No reply.

  ‘You don’t recognize me, do you? Not that you should …’ Benkei quickly added. He took a tentative step closer and bowed to get a glimpse of the stranger’s hooded face. He turned back to the others and mouthed, ‘It’s all right. He’s asleep!’

  All of a sudden the figure sprang to life, grunting loudly. Panicking, Benkei lashed out with Saburo’s sword. He drew the blade so fast, and without any real aim, that the sword sliced the man’s staff in two.

  ‘No!’ cried the figure, cowering at Benkei’s feet. ‘Please don’t kill me!’

  His hood slipped off to reveal a scrawny middle-aged man with thinning hair and a long stringy moustache. He blinked, bleary-eyed in shock, at his rainbow-robed attacker.

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded Benkei, his panic now turning to bravado at the sight of his opponent.

  ‘I’m just a lamp-oil salesman,’ the man replied hurriedly, gesturing to a bamboo-framed backpack containing an immense ceramic jar with a cork plugging the top.

  Benkei whistled through his teeth. ‘Rather you than me carrying that load!’

  The oil salesman nodded wearily. ‘I’ve had to travel this road three times this week alone. That’s why I was resting. And I need a staff …’

  He glanced down in despair at the severed pieces scattered on the ground.

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from,’ said Benkei, gesturing with a sweep of his hand at the surrounding forest. He offered the man a rueful grin and pretended to look for a replacement staff.

  Satisfied there was no threat, Akiko spurred her horse and led everyone along the road. Passing the despondent salesman, Yori handed him some copper coins. ‘For a new staff. A decent one,’ he explained.

  The salesman just stared at the coins, amazed by the young monk’s generosity.

  Benkei clapped the man on the back. ‘Clearly you’re a pious man for the gods to respond so quickly in your hour of need!’

  Leaving the bewildered salesman on his rock, he hurried after the others and round the next bend.

  ‘Congratulations! Benkei the Great defeated Ronin the Merciless!’ laughed Saburo, applauding him as he trotted up to them. ‘Now I know who to call upon when I need some firewood chopping!’

  ‘As long as I can use your sword,’ retorted Benkei, holding the wakizashi aloft and cutting through a branch overhead.

  Twigs and leaves cascaded on to Saburo’s head.

  ‘Give that back!’ he cried, snatching the sword from Benkei’s grasp. ‘Before you do some real damage.’

  Gradually the trees thinned out as the road left the foothills and dropped down to a slender neck of land that tethered the Shimabara peninsula to the Kyushu mainland. To the north, the waters of the Ariake Sea could be seen glistening in the bright morning sunshine. To the south, the rolling waves of the East China Sea beat against the shoreline, throwing up a silvery haze over the pebble-strewn beach. A narrow ridge of higher ground ran along this southern stretch, while northwards the land flattened out into a coastal floodplain, parcelled up into neat rectangles of paddy fields.

  The road they were on split, offering the choice of either the ridge or the floodplain. Benkei paused, wiping his brow and trying to decide which direction would be the best to take.

  ‘They both eventually end up at the same village,’ he said. ‘It’s your choice.’

  ‘We should follow the ridge,’ called Miyuki from behind.

  ‘If I was Kazuki, then the ridge would be the most obvious route to take,’ called back Akiko.

  ‘But on the floodplain we’ll be exposed to attack.’

  ‘True, but at least we’ll be able to see them coming.’

  ‘On the ridge, we have the advantage of higher ground,’ insisted Miyuki with an exasperated sigh.

  Just as Jack and the others expected the discussion to break down into another quarrel and for Yori to throw his staff into the air again, Akiko said, ‘That’s a fair tactical point. The ridge it is.’

  Miyuki was taken aback by Akiko’s ready agreement. ‘Excellent … Of course, your reasons were also sound.’

  Akiko nodded politely, acknowledging the magnanimous spirit of her reply.

  Perhaps there is hope for a friendship after all, thought Jack.

  They followed the ridge, keeping their eyes peeled for danger. Each time they crested a rise, Jack half expected to see Kazuki, his Scorpion Gang and an army of ronin waiting for them, armed to the teeth.

  But, surprisingly, neither Kazuki nor any band of hired warriors appeared on the road.

  Jack began to wonder if they’d managed to slip past his old school rival – that by some sheer stroke of luck, they were now home free all the way to Nagasaki. An odd sense of disappointment washed over Jack. He realized that he wanted Kazuki to find him; that he himself had half sought that final confrontation. In truth, he couldn’t leave Japan without resolving their rivalry. If Kazuki wasn’t dealt with before Jack departed for England, then Akiko would always be in danger. Jack recognized that Akiko could handle herself, but he’d never sleep soundly again without knowing – with absolute certainty – that she was safe from Kazuki’s vengeful spite.

  Jack wondered if Nagasaki would be their ultimate battleground.

  The road left the ridge and passed through grassland before re-entering the forest.

  Around noon, they came to a winding river, where a narrow wooden bridge led into a sizeable village. Surrounded by paddy fields and thorn bushes, the settlement was a criss-cross of wooden buildings and rice barns. A large pond fed by the river stretched along the eastern side of the village, its waters undisturbed in the stifling heat of the day.

  ‘Not far now,’ said Benkei, bounding over the bridge. ‘By tonight we’ll be dining in Nagasaki!’

  Only when they were passing the first few houses did Jack and the others notice something strange.

  His shakujō jingling loudly in the unnatural silence, Yori asked, ‘Where are all the people?’

  51

  Pinned Down

  Jack’s eyes scanned the buildings and paddy fields surrounding them. There was no one in the street and no farmers working the fields. A lone watchtower stood at the centre of the community like a redundant guardian. Some of the closely packed dwellings had their windows wide open to let in what little breeze there was. Several doors were also ajar, as if awaiting the imminent return of their owners. The faint aroma of boiling rice and the taint of woodsmoke wafted through the air. The village even boasted a small inn, but this was shuttered up. It was as if every villager had been spirited away.

  Still, Jack had the unnerving feeling of being watched.

  Miyuki felt it too. She was already reaching into her bag and pulling out her ninjatō. ‘Back to the bridge. Right now!’

  Akiko tugged on her reins, wheeling Snowball round, when an arrow shot out of nowhere. Its barb struck her in the chest, the impact knocking her from her horse.

  ‘Akiko!’ cried Jack, running to her aid.

  ‘No, Jack!’ shouted Miyuki, shoulder-barging him to one side.

  Another arrow whistled past, a hair’s breadth from Jack’s neck. He sprawled into the dirt, dust choking his mouth. He crawled over to Akiko and tried to shield her from further attack.

  More arrows whizzed past like angry wasps. Snowball stood over them, as if sensing his
mistress was in danger. He whinnied and reared up as a steel-tipped shaft pierced his flank, but he held his ground.

  ‘Get Akiko into cover,’ instructed Miyuki as she desperately tried to pinpoint the source of the attack.

  Saburo was by Jack’s side in an instant and together they dragged their injured friend into a narrow alleyway. Once sheltered between the two buildings, Jack propped Akiko against a wall.

  ‘Akiko, speak to me,’ he pleaded as he examined her wound.

  ‘It’s not … too bad,’ she gasped, her face pale from shock. ‘The breastplate … took most of the impact.’

  Mercifully, the arrow had missed her heart, penetrating just below the left shoulder. Yet blood still poured out at an alarming rate. Jack tore a strip from his kimono sleeve and tried to staunch the flow.

  Crouching beside them, Miyuki peered out into the street. She whipped her head back – thunk! – as an arrow embedded itself in the wooden pillar next to her.

  ‘I can’t locate the archer!’ she snapped in frustration.

  ‘Where’s Yori?’ asked Jack, suddenly realizing there were only four of them in the alley. ‘And Benkei?’

  Saburo looked across the street. ‘Over there!’

  Yori and Benkei were huddled together behind a large water butt. Yet it provided scant cover for two and they were in a perilous position. An arrow cracked into the barrel, water spurting out in a fountain on to the sunbaked ground.

  ‘Can you see anyone?’ Miyuki called to them.

  Benkei shook his head, too scared to even risk a glance. Yori peeked over the top of the barrel.

  ‘In the watchtower!’ he cried, pointing to a flicker of movement behind the defensive panels surrounding the raised platform.

  ‘We have to get Akiko to safety,’ said Jack, his fingers wet with her blood.

  ‘As long as we stay clear of the tower, we can retreat into the forest,’ Saburo suggested.

  ‘There isn’t just one archer,’ said Miyuki, studying the pattern of arrows that peppered the ground. ‘See how they’re stuck at different angles. Other archers must be hidden on the roofs.’