Young Samurai: The Ring of Wind

by Chris Bradford

  Jack hesitated, wondering if he should call out. In truth, being wary of such magical practices, he was glad to have missed the witch. But, as he turned to leave, a heap of rags burst into life.

  ‘Do not fear going forward; fear only to stand still,’ croaked the old crone’s voice.

  ‘I think … I’ve changed my mind,’ excused Jack, backing out of the doorway.

  ‘To come so far and turn at the last step is a journey wasted,’ said the Wind Witch. ‘If you want to know the road ahead, Jack-kun, you must ask those coming back.’

  Hearing his name, Jack faltered mid-stride. He had assumed that this Wind Witch simply weaved fortunes that people wanted to hear. Yet this old crone seemed to promise much more than that.

  ‘Sit!’ she demanded, beckoning him impatiently with a bony finger.

  Jack warily took his place opposite the Wind Witch. He couldn’t make out her features beneath the cowl of rags, but could smell her fetid breath and see the glint of her devil-black eyes.

  ‘Fortune favours the fair,’ said the witch, studying his features.

  Jack’s skin crawled as her eyes raked over his face. ‘I don’t have the means to pay you,’ he admitted.

  The Wind Witch clicked her tongue in annoyance. Then her hand shot out and seized him by the hair. Before he could pull away, she’d hacked off several locks with the dagger.

  ‘The mane of a golden child will be payment enough,’ she said, rubbing the locks between her skeletal fingers and sniffing them appreciatively.

  Pocketing the hair in the sleeve of her raggedy clothes, she kept a few strands back and placed them on the table. Then the witch snapped some twigs into the bowl and, using the embers of the fire, set the tinder alight. She ground down herbs and sprinkled them over the flames, sending potent wafts of smoke into the air. With the dagger, she shaved off several pieces of bone into the bowl, then spat on the mix, her spittle sizzling in the fire.

  ‘Your hand,’ she instructed, without looking up.

  Jack hesitantly held out his arm. The Wind Witch took hold and with the tip of her dagger blade pricked his thumb. Jack grimaced as she squeezed out three drops of blood. Next she grabbed one of the wooden cages, opened it and shook out a large black spider. Before the creature scuttled away, she dropped it into the flames where it writhed and died. Jack covered his mouth and nose as his nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh. Finally, the witch added a few strands of his hair and the flames turned bright green.

  Leaning over her burning concoction, the Wind Witch breathed in a lungful of the fumes, then settled back. When she spoke next, her voice was deep, hoarse and seemingly disembodied.

  ‘To gain freedom, one must wake from death and return to life …’ Her body shuddered within its trance. ‘Pain will nourish your courage when the dragon returns …’ Curls of smoke spiralled out from her hooded face. ‘Your journey’s end has only just begun. The greatest sacrifice is yet to come –’

  Suddenly the Wind Witch gave a piercing shriek and knocked the bowl to the floor, extinguishing the flames.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jack, alarmed at her erratic behaviour.

  The Wind Witch shook her head, as if petrified out of her wits. ‘Some things are not meant to be seen.’

  She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. ‘Leave. Now!’

  ‘What did you see?’ Jack insisted.

  But the Wind Witch collapsed senseless among her heap of rags.

  Jack jumped up, his heart racing. What had she meant by her fortune-telling? And what could have been so terrifying to scare a witch?

  Hurriedly emerging from the den, he blinked against the bright sunshine. Shaken as he was by the experience, in the cold light of day, his encounter now seemed little more than a bad dream. He tried to persuade himself that the woman had been playing a trick on him, perhaps for not having the money to pay. Still, it was a frightfully convincing performance …

  Jack looked for Li Ling amid the throng of pirates, but couldn’t see her. Out of nowhere, Skullface stepped into his path.

  ‘Li Ling’s been summoned by Captain Kurogumo,’ he explained. ‘I’ll escort you from here on.’

  There was something in the pirate’s manner that put Jack on his guard. He cautiously backed away.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going, gaijin?’ asked Skullface, his grin a little too wide.

  ‘To the citadel,’ replied Jack.

  ‘Then follow me,’ invited the pirate, gesturing innocently towards a rickety side ladder.

  ‘But that’s not the way,’ said Jack, turning to run.

  Tiger and Snakehead suddenly appeared, blocking his path. Without warning, Manzo jumped out from a nearby cabin and bundled him inside. Caught in his bear-like grip, Jack was powerless to fight back. Within seconds, he was enveloped by a sack and bound tightly with rope, his wrists and ankles expertly hogtied behind him. Struggling against his bonds, Jack cried out for help.

  ‘Shut him up!’ hissed Skullface.

  The last thing Jack felt was a heavy blow to the back of his head.

  46

  Kidnapped

  The floor pitched and rolled. For a moment, still bound within the sack, Jack thought his sickly disorientation came from the strike to his head. Then he registered the creak of wood, the splash of waves and the flap of canvas. He was at sea.

  Apart from the dull throb at the base of his skull, Jack didn’t think he was otherwise injured. He tried to move, but the ropes held him fast. His throat was dry from the dust within the sack. He considered shouting for help, but it was unlikely anyone would come running to his aid. It was better to remain silent and learn what he could before revealing to his captors that he’d regained consciousness.

  He had no idea how long he’d been out for. No light seeped through the coarse sacking, so Jack guessed that he was either in the hold of a ship or else night had fallen.

  He heard voices: only four and he recognized all of them – Skullface, Snakehead, Tiger and Manzo. If that was the case, he was probably on a small boat, otherwise there’d need to be more crew.

  What had Skullface and his gang planned for him? His sudden abduction didn’t bode well. It would certainly be against the wishes of Tatsumaki. And he’d witnessed the cruel games of torture that these pirates enjoyed playing with their prisoners. Was this the danger the Wind Witch had foreseen? If so, surely she could have given him better warning!

  Jack listened as Skullface issued the command to lower the sail. A moment later, the boat bumped against a rock and the deck lurched as someone leapt ashore.

  ‘Manzo, bring the gaijin,’ said Skullface.

  Jack was manhandled off the boat and tossed over the pirate’s shoulder. Manzo’s sandalled feet crunched on loose stones as they trekked away from the shoreline. No one spoke for a while. Then Jack was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. He couldn’t help letting out a cry as he landed upon a jagged outcrop.

  ‘The gaijin’s awake,’ growled Manzo.

  The sacking was roughly pulled off him and Jack was greeted by Skullface’s leering tattooed features.

  ‘Pleasant journey?’ he mocked.

  Jack coughed up the dust from his lungs and looked around. They were atop a barren island, little more than a lump of craggy rock with a single windswept tree clinging to its peak. A waning crescent moon hung in the night sky, lending a pale, ghostly sheen to the surrounding waters. There appeared to be no other islands in sight.

  Jack’s assumption regarding the number of kidnappers had been correct. The skiff, in which he’d placed so much hope for an escape, lay bobbing at the water’s edge … empty.

  ‘What do you want with me?’ said Jack.

  ‘You’re an ill omen, gaijin,’ spat Skullface. ‘Ever since we picked you up, the Black Spider’s been cursed – captured by Sea Samurai, caught in a kamikaze storm, the captain shot. You even took my credit for bringing home the Shogun’s Red Seal ship.’

  He kicked Jack viciously in the
stomach. Jack doubled up with pain, rolling on the ground as he gasped for breath.

  ‘That was my one chance to become a CAPTAIN!’ snarled Skullface in outrage. ‘So it’s time to get rid of you for good, gaijin.’

  Recovering from the blow, Jack wheezed, ‘You’re going to … maroon me?’

  Skullface chuckled. ‘No, that would be merciful.’

  A cold inevitability struck Jack. ‘Torture and kill me?’

  ‘Tempting,’ admitted Skullface, ‘but we’ll leave that to the Sea Samurai. You’re worth more alive.’

  ‘Look, their ship’s here already,’ said Snakehead, glancing out to sea.

  Skullface grinned. ‘Told you they wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this to please their Shogun.’

  The pirates’ plan was now clear to Jack. They were going to exchange him for the bounty on his head. Following his instinct that the four pirates were acting on their own, he said, ‘But Tatsumaki’s sure to find out you kidnapped me. And when she does, she’ll punish you all.’

  Skullface laughed. ‘Not likely. We’ll say you escaped … and blame it on Li Ling. That pretty little pirate will lose her head before the sun’s up.’

  Jack felt all hope drain from him. Not only was he being sent to his death but Li Ling would suffer too. And what would happen to Yori, Saburo and Miyuki? Without him, his friends would hold no value to Tatsumaki. They’d be thrown to their deaths in the lagoon, fish food just like all her other victims.

  Jack writhed against his bonds, determined to free himself.

  ‘No use struggling, gaijin,’ spat Tiger. ‘They’re on their way up.’

  Jack became desperate. ‘But I’m of great value to your Pirate Queen. I still have to translate the rutter.’

  ‘You’re of great value to us,’ replied Skullface. ‘We’ve negotiated ten koban each and a pardon in return for your head.’

  Jack racked his brains for some samurai or ninja technique to save him from his predicament. But he was as powerless as a turtle on its back.

  A figure strode up the rise to the crest of the peak. Dressed in a black shinobi shozoku, the man became silhouetted against the starry sky like a black ghost. He stopped before them, the moonlight reflecting in his eye … his single green eye.

  47

  A Ghost from the Past

  Jack’s heart froze in his chest. The air suddenly seemed starved of oxygen, his mind unable to comprehend the chilling presence before him. It was simply not possible. He’d seen Dragon Eye plunge to his death. The ninja was dead, gone forever.

  Yet here his nemesis stood – a ghost from the past sent to haunt him.

  Jack might have thought himself going crazy, if he’d been the only one to see this phantom. The four pirates had swiftly drawn their swords to keep the ninja at bay.

  ‘Who are you? Where’s Captain Arashi?’ demanded Skullface, his voice tight and edgy.

  The ninja remained indifferent to the threat of blades.

  ‘Dokugan Ryu,’ he replied, with a curt bow of his head.

  The mere mention of his name caused Tiger and Snakehead to exchange uneasy glances.

  ‘I represent the interests of the Shogun himself,’ Dragon Eye continued as a unit of Sea Samurai marched up behind him. ‘Now hand over the gaijin.’

  ‘The reward first,’ Skullface insisted, trying to maintain control of the situation.

  Dragon Eye nodded grudgingly to one of the samurai, who stepped forward and placed a small wooden chest on the ground. He opened it up to reveal a stack of forty oval-shaped coins.

  So that’s the value of my life, thought Jack, resigning himself to his fate. Less than three koban a year!

  Skullface’s eyes lit up at the hoard of shimmering gold. ‘And our pardons from daimyo Mori.’

  Dragon Eye produced a scroll of parchment sealed with a red wax stamp. Skullface examined the daimyo’s official seal in the moonlight.

  ‘It appears genuine,’ he said, giving Tiger the nod.

  ‘You’d be wise not to doubt me,’ said Dragon Eye. ‘You have the reward. Now what about the rutter?’

  Skullface looked confused. ‘The rutter? We don’t have it.’

  Dragon Eye glared at the pirate. ‘So where is it?’

  ‘That wasn’t part of the deal,’ argued Skullface.

  ‘Just answer the question,’ snapped Dragon Eye, noting Tiger was about to claim the treasure chest.

  A glint of steel flashed through the air. It was so quick that it might have been mistaken for a shooting star. Tiger collapsed backwards, his head parting from his shoulders and bouncing down the hillside.

  Dragon Eye flicked the pirate’s blood from his ninjatō, the tip of the blade stopping inches from Jack’s face. In that moment Jack recognized the swirling hamon pattern along the steel and the swordmaker’s name – Kunitome – etched by the hilt. This was the final proof that the dreaded ninja was no ghost. The sword was Kuro Gumo – Black Cloud – Dragon Eye’s infamous blade.

  ‘Don’t make me ask you again,’ said Dragon Eye, turning his attention back to Skullface.

  Incensed at seeing his fellow Wind Demon slaughtered, Manzo launched himself at Dragon Eye. The ninja merely stepped aside, letting the pirate fly past before driving the ninjatō into his back. Manzo gave a great guttural groan, then toppled over the rocky crag.

  Skullface now rushed Dragon Eye, slicing his sword across the ninja’s chest. But Dragon Eye deflected the attack and countered at such speed that Skullface didn’t realize he’d lost … until his sword dropped to the ground, his right hand still attached to the hilt.

  Clasping his bleeding stump to his chest, Skullface crumpled to his knees, his mouth open in a silent scream, the pain yet to register.

  Dragon Eye stood over him. ‘Last chance. Who has the rutter?’

  ‘Go … burn in hell!’ spluttered Skullface.

  Unmoved by the pirate’s insult, Dragon Eye formed his fingers into Snakehead Fist. With a sharp sudden jab, he plucked out the pirate’s right eye. Skullface now howled in agony, blood streaming down his cheek.

  ‘Tatsumaki has it …’ he wailed.

  ‘And where is this Tatsumaki?’

  ‘… on Pirate Island.’

  ‘Where’s Pirate Island?’

  Despite his horrendous suffering, Skullface now held his tongue. Dragon Eye didn’t hesitate. He tore out the pirate’s other eye. Skullface’s tortured screams filled the night sky. Jack could no longer bear to watch; nor could any of the samurai. Without his eyes, Skullface’s tattooed head now became truly skull-like.

  The shrieks faded into agonized sobs, but still Skullface refused to answer.

  Jack heard a sickening crunch of steel on bone, then a body slump lifeless to the ground. As much as he’d loathed the pirate, Jack had to admit Skullface remained a loyal Wind Demon to the bitter end.

  Dragon Eye now set his sights on Snakehead, who’d been too shocked by the sudden turn of events to react. The pirate immediately threw down his sword and surrendered. Offering the man no mercy, Dragon Eye struck a rapid combination of pressure points across Snakehead’s body.

  Jack instantly recognized the lethal ninja technique of Dim Mak.

  Snakehead went rigid, paralysed to the spot by the ninja’s Death Touch. Jack knew from his own bitter experience at the hands of Dragon Eye that a firestorm of pain would be spreading throughout the pirate’s body, eventually crippling and crushing his heart.

  ‘Where is it?’ demanded Dragon Eye.

  The terror in Snakehead’s eyes was palpable, but he didn’t respond.

  Dragon Eye drove a thumb into a nerve point in the pirate’s neck. Snakehead let out a scream. But uttered no words.

  With the unit of samurai distracted once again by the gruesome torture, Jack broke the paralysis that had held him ever since laying eyes upon his old enemy. Determined to escape, he felt behind him until his fingers came across a particularly sharp piece of rock protruding from the ground. Then he began furiously rubbing its jagg
ed edge against the rope binding his wrists. On several occasions, he had to bite down on his tongue as the rock cut into his skin.

  Snakehead shrieked again, but weaker this time as Dragon Eye targeted a nerve point beneath his jaw. Jack realized time was fast running out. The rope became slick with his own blood, but he kept cutting away.

  Without even a glance in his direction, Dragon Eye suddenly said, ‘Cease your pathetic escape attempt, gaijin, or I’ll cut your hands off too.’

  Jack was given no choice but to comply as one of the samurai now held the edge of a wakizashi to his throat.

  Dragon Eye resumed his systematic torture. Snakehead was now moaning and whimpering like a wounded dog. Eventually, his resistance was broken. In between feeble breaths, Snakehead revealed all – the location of Pirate Island, the strength of the Wind Demons’ forces and even the danger of entering the tidal straits – before begging for the torture to end.

  ‘With pleasure,’ said Dragon Eye, severing the pirate’s head from his body.

  48

  Old Wounds

  Jack was bound to the main mast of the Sea Samurai’s ship and surrounded by six armed guards. Dragon Eye was taking no chances with him.

  The ninja stood upon the upper deck, a wraithlike figure against the star-studded sky, the samurai crew keeping a wary distance. He gave the order to cast off and the ship headed due north.

  The bodies of the four Wind Demons had been left to rot on the barren island, the skiff at the shoreline their only grave marker. Even though Jack held little sympathy for the deceased pirates, he wouldn’t have wished such torturous deaths on any of them. Their harrowing ends merely proved that Dragon Eye remained as ruthless as ever.

  Jack felt the ninja’s glare upon him. Even from across the deck, Dragon Eye’s malice reached out like tendrils of ice. For a moment he found it hard to breathe, seized as he was by a suffocating combination of terror, despair and disbelief. His mind still couldn’t grasp the ninja’s miraculous resurrection. Was Dragon Eye somehow immortal? The idea sent a shudder through him. There was no way any normal man could have survived the drop from Osaka Castle’s top tower, eight storeys down to the stone courtyard below. Besides, he’d witnessed Dragon Eye die with his own eyes … then again … thinking back to that war-torn night, he’d only seen the ninja fall.