by Jon F. Merz
Ninja
By
Jon F. Merz
Copyright © 2010 by Jon F. Merz
Smashwords Edition
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One
From the lush green of the valley floor, the fortress soared skyward. Towering walls of granite mined from a quarry many leagues away formed a foundation set onto the hill overlooking the river hewing its way between the mountains on either side. High above, towers and ramparts afforded the guards a perfect vantage point on every approach. It had been designed to thwart attack from any angle. To a traditional warrior, the fortress appeared insurmountable.
But Ran, hidden in the shadows of the thick fragrant pine boughs, saw opportunity where others did not.
Two weeks previously, he had sat motionless in this same spot, watching the full moon cast its glow upon the eastern side. And in the moonlight the stony walls had revealed perhaps the castle’s one weakness.
Divots in the stone ran all the way up to the lowest rampart. Where others saw mere indentations, Ran saw handhold and footholds. They weren’t uniform. Nor would the going be easy. But it was possible. And possibility was the foundation of success.
Now, back in the looming shadows of the massive pine, Ran waited. There would be a new moon and thus would he blend perfectly with the night as he made his infiltration, just as he had used the full moon to aid his observation a fortnight before. Such was it scribed on the ancient scrolls he had spent the last twenty-five years of his life studying.
From birth, Ran had been schooled in the legendary martial art of Ninjutsu – the infamous stealers-in of the shadow world. Masters of spying, infiltration, and warfare, the ninja were reputed to be supernatural warriors able to bend the universe to their will and bewitch a stalwart sentry with a mere glance.
Ran smiled at the thought. Certainly, there was much he had yet to learn about the higher levels of the art, but magic? More likely those stalwart sentries had dozed off. Rather than face harsh punishment for sleeping on duty, they had simply concocted a tale that a ninja wizard had cast a spell over them.
And Ran knew something else: his fellow ninja operatives were happy to let others believe in the myths and legends because it would invariably aid them in their missions. So whether it was actually true or not – it may as well have been.
A light breeze lifted the branches around him. Ran closed his eyes and opened his mouth to amplify the night sounds. He heard the cough of a guard far above him float down. He caught the clink of a spoon against a cauldron over a hearth in one of the village homes nearby.
But little else stirred.
It was time to move.
Using a low-crawl, Ran eased himself out from under the tree and waited until the breeze rustled the grass against the foot of the castle before moving again. Each time there was an ambient noise, Ran used it to cover his own approach.
At last at the foot of the wall, Ran looked up and visualized the location of the first handhold. He stepped up onto the wall, keeping the pressure he exerted between his hands and feet equal. While one hand or foot would search out a new position, the other three maintained solid contact to hold him in place.
The lord of the castle and his guards would never expect a solitary intruder to free climb a wall in this fashion. And while Ran did indeed have a kaginawa grappling hook whose ends had been wrapped in soft silk to absorb noise when thrown, he didn’t want to risk relying on it when one reasonably alert guard might discover its existence during the long climb ahead.
Ran kept his breathing slow and steady, carefully flushing his system with enough to power his muscles but also mindful that too much would cause him to become dizzy. And one mistake at this height would mean certain death.
While he focused on the climb, Ran replayed what his jonin had told him a month previously back at the training school hidden deep in the mountains hundreds of miles from where he was now.
“There is a relic of importance that we must have.”
Ran, fresh from a deep soak in the ofuro hot tub, after a grueling day of bojutsu staff practice, sipped the tea in front of him. “What is the relic?”
His Jonin, a man by the name of Tozawa, who was a legend in the shadowy ranks of ninja, had only smiled. “It is a special sword, forged by the smith known as Daisuke over two hundred years ago. Its blade is reputed to be the finest known to any warrior alive or dead.”
Ran had frowned. Only the traditional warriors had such an unnatural love for their sword blades, believing them imbued with the souls of their ancestors. Ninja were pragmatic; they appreciated the sword blade for its ability to deliver killing blows, but hearing one spoken of in such lofty terms unsettled Ran.
Tozawa had smiled at him. “I know what you are thinking, Ran. As skilled a pupil as you are, you still have much to learn. Bring back the sword. Accomplish this mission and you will graduate.”
A stiff breeze caused him to momentarily sway. Ran glanced back down and saw that he was perhaps a hundred feet up now. More than halfway to the top. He redoubled his efforts and a few minutes later, he paused just under the rampart.
Again, he let his jaw relax and waited for the sounds of the immediate area to introduce themselves. Hearing nothing nearby, Ran grabbed the rampart and folded his body over it. If anyone had been looking at that exact spot, they might have seen a small undulation in the wall as Ran’s body slid over. But it was over so quickly that they would have simply dismissed it. After all, they were hundreds of feet up, who could have climbed that high?
Ran huddled under the inside wall and let his eyes grow accustomed to the scene. He was swathed from head to toe in a mottled array of deep blues and grays that made him harder to see than if he’d been wearing absolute black. Around his head, Ran wore the traditional two piece mask of his kind. One part was carefully wrapped around the top of his head and the other over his mouth. Ran had also blackened the area around his eyes with bits of charcoal from the fire he’d cooked over earlier today. No part of his body was visible; it was as if he wasn’t even there.
From this rampart, he could access the first tower in front of him that spiraled up another fifty feet. At the top of this tower, he would be able to access the walkway leading to the main part of the castle.
His target.
Ran drew in a deep breath and exhaled smoothly. Forty feet further down the wall, he could see the back of one of the guards on duty. They’d been evenly stationed atop the battlements, but weren’t allowed to move. Ran had already noted their positioning and schedule of shift changes during his reconnaissance mission a few weeks earlier. He was confident they wouldn’t even react if they heard him.
With his eyes fixed on the entrance to the tower, Ran eased out of the deep shadows and used the yoko aruki sideways walking method to cross the open space. He kept his body level knowing that any sudden jerking motion would increase his likelihood of being discovered. Smooth flowing action worked better.
He reached the tower entrance and paused, sinking down low and easing his head around the corner so he could see what lay before him.
Torches burned in braziers high on the wall, their dancing flames throwing weird shadows all over the smooth interior walls. The staircase corkscrewed up to the next level and Ran mounted it swiftly. Able to move from shadow to shadow, Ran silently crept up the stone steps, keeping his back to the wall, hands spread to the sides t
o aid in his ascent.
He heard the guard before he saw him and Ran froze in the shadow he was standing in. At the top of the stairs, a single guard loitered, looking out of the high window. If he’d been there a few minutes earlier, he might have seen Ran creeping over the wall, but only if he’d been paying attention. And experience had shown that most sentries did not pay attention when their castle stood towering over the rest of their world. It was this sense of impregnability that Ran and his kind exploited.
But Ran faced another problem right then: how to get past the guard? He had waited until two o’clock in the morning before starting his infiltration. But if he delayed during any point, he risked exposure when the first rays of dawn broke the horizon.
With another cough, the guard suddenly moved off. Ran wasted no time climbing the steps, but then paused to see where the guard had gone. He nodded to himself when he saw that the guard had found a chair nearby and already settled himself down to sleep. Ran counted to sixty and then crept past the guard, hands ready to silence him if something happened. But the guard never stirred.
Ran crossed the walkway and paused next to the entryway to the main castle. Tozawa had revealed a floor plan of the castle that had been acquired from one of the craftsman who had been employed in its building. Ran had wondered if the information had been bought.
Tozawa had smiled. “No, the task of gathering this information was the graduation assignment of another student. The information is reliable.”
Ran, knowing how purchased information could potentially be suspect, had felt a measure of relief. One of his brothers or sisters had crept into the craftsman’s offices and copied the floor plan without being discovered.
The latch on the main door was locked. Ran bent close and examined the simple mechanism. From his sleeve, he drew out a fine sliver of metal bent at an odd angle. Fitting this into the lock, he twisted twice and then applied pressure. The lock sprang open and Ran crept inside the castle.
More torches burned in here, but knowing where his destination lay, Ran made good time now. He disregarded the grandiose main staircase and headed left toward the narrow corridor. Further down this passageway, he paused and listened. The interior sounds of the castle were different from those outside and he needed to give himself some time to acclimate.
He eased down the corridor and paused. Ahead of him he could see a door. This was where the sword would be, according to Tozawa. Ran saw no guards and frowned. Odd that such a priceless relic would be kept in a room with no sentries. But he moved closer and then tried the handle to the room. It was locked.
He knelt in front of the door and saw that this lock was much more complex. Ran removed his picks and began working, aware that each click and clink sounded like an thunder clap of noise in the still corridor. He eased his breathing and visualized the lock opening. Twenty seconds later, he had it open.
He crept into the room. A candelabra overhead dripped wax as the candles burned low. But there was enough light to see around.
Ran stood in a room about twenty feet by fifteen feet. It looked like a library of some sort, and Ran saw books and scrolls piled high on elaborate tables carved with ancient runes. What drew his attention most, however, was the stone altar in the middle of the room. He moved over to it and saw grooves running all around the rectangular flat top that descended toward recessed basin, presumably used to gather liquid.
Blood.
Ran’s eyes grew stony. The altar was used for sacrifices.
He glanced around the room and saw the elaborate tapestries depicting scenes of bloodshed and carnage. In each of them, a wizard seemed to be sacrificing an animal, woman, or child to some sort of creature in black.
Black magic.
Ran frowned beneath his mask. He’d heard whispers and legends, of course. But to see the implements of evil in this manner. It caught at his gut and twisted him up.
He took a breath and shrugged off the feeling of doom that hung over this room. The sword was supposed to be here somewhere. He crossed to the back of the nearest table and froze.
Someone was in the room with him.
In an instant, the shorter curved sword he wore flashed out at the ready. Ran’s eyes darted around the room, but he saw nothing. Was this more sorcery at work?
And then he turned and saw something he’d missed earlier upon entering. There was a smaller door leading off of this room. And at the top of the door, there was a metal grate covering a window into the room that lay beyond.
Ran crossed over to it and peered inside.
A slave girl lay on the simple plank bed that had been covered in straw. She was asleep and it was her breathing Ran had heard.
A heavy lock hung on the door and Ran looked at it. The girl was being kept prisoner, presumably to be sacrificed.
He turned away. He didn’t know what gods they worshipped here, but he had a tough time believing that any god would want an innocent life taken in his name.
Enough. He was there for the sword, not to debate theology. But where could it be? Was there a chance that the wizard had it moved to another room? Ran didn’t have time to search the entire castle.
“You’re here for the sword, aren’t you?”
It was a whisper that sounded like an explosion. Ran wheeled around, his sword aimed at the source of the noise.
It came from behind the prison cell door. And peering closer, Ran could see the pretty face the voice belonged to. He smirked. So, she hadn’t been asleep after all.
“I know where it is,” she said. “I can tell you where he keeps it hidden. But you’ve got to free me.”
Ran frowned. He hadn’t been expecting this. But if he let the girl go, his mission would be compromised. He was supposed to leave no sign of his presence. Only the missing sword would ever point at the fact that someone had infiltrated the castle.
He glanced around the room. How much time did he have to search? Every moment in the castle meant a greater chance of discovery. Ran’s eyes narrowed as he ran down the scenarios.
He drew close to the prison cell. Even with her tangled hair, he could see the slave girl was beautiful. She drew away from the door and Ran saw she was dressed in a gauzy tunic with a rope braided belt about her waist that accentuated her slender form.
“Tell me where he keeps it and I will free you.”
Her green eyes danced. She hesitated only a moment. “If you don’t free me when I tell you, I will scream and have the whole castle down on you within moments.”
Ran frowned. He could kill her, of course, but he disliked the idea of taking a life for no real purpose. “I will do as I said. Tell me.”
She pointed. “Behind that furthest tapestry lies a hollow brick in the wall.”
Ran crossed the room and drew back the tapestry. He ran his hands over the bricks and found one that moved. He shoved it aside and reached into the dark hole. His hands wrapped around the silken bag and he drew out the sword.
Carefully, he replaced the brick and then slid the tapestry back into position. It should not have been obvious to anyone that anything was amiss.
He turned and bowed to the slave girl. “Thank you.
She kept her voice a whisper. “I’ve kept my end of the bargain. Keep yours.”
Ran crossed to the prison cell. “And how will you escape once I free you? You’re not coming with me.”
“Let me worry about that. Just unlock the cell.”
Ran bent and examined the lock. It was a fairly simple mechanism and he opened it with ease. When he opened the door, the slave girl passed so close to him she might have brushed his body.
“Thank you.”
Ran nodded. “Our arrangement is now complete.”
Her eyes roved over him and he could see the wonder in them. “You are one of the ones they call the shadow warriors.”
He paused only a moment. “I am.”
“I could come with you.”
“No.” Ran hefted the sword. “This is all I have come f
or. I must leave now. And so should you. Judging from the paintings, you will not have long to live.”
“He worships an evil god, you know. One that crawls from the deepest pools of filth and depravity.”
“I care not,” said Ran. “But how did you come to be his prisoner?”
“He kidnapped me from my lands far to the west of here. I was a princess there.”
Ran frowned. “And how do you know of my kind?”
She smiled. “I take the time to study the legends of various lands. My name is Cassandra. What is yours?”
“I am known as Ran.” He regarded her. “How will you leave the castle?”
“I will find my way.”
Perhaps, he thought. But without help she would have little chance of getting past the guards. Ran was not there to cause such turmoil, however. From inside his jacket, he drew out a tanto knife, its blade blackened steel but otherwise unremarkable. It might have come from any forge around. He handed it to Cassandra.
“Take this and you may indeed have a chance.”
She hefted the blade and took a few slashes in the air. He appreciated her skill. Someone had taught her to wield a knife.
“I must leave now.”
Cassandra held his arm. “If you ever find yourself in the lands to the west, inquire at the court of Varlus and tell them you are the one who freed me from the wizard they call Seiryu.”
Ran held her gaze for a moment and then turned away. “I will guide you as far as the castle entrance and then we part ways.”
He relocked her cell and then checked the room. It would pass a cursory inspection, but he suspected within an hour she would be discovered missing. Then the sword disappearance would be noted. Both of which would make his exfiltration more difficult if they closed down the passes leading from the valley. Time was of the essence.
“Follow me.”
They left the room and Ran relocked the door. At the main entrance, they had to pause while two guards walked dangerously close. Ran pressed a hand over Cassandra’s mouth to keep her from crying out and she responded by pushing her body into his. Ran may have waited an extra few seconds before moving again.
