The Ring of Earth

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The Ring of Earth Page 13

by Chris Bradford


  ‘No, he’s an orphan. But it made it easier for him to think I was.’

  Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  Hanzo had been taken by Dragon Eye. So had Kiyoshi. Both five years ago. And both had the same birthmarks. There were just too many coincidences.

  Hanzo’s no orphan, thought Jack. And he’s no ninja either. He’s samurai.

  28

  THE PILLOW

  A light summer rain was falling across the valley. Jack, sheltering beneath the eaves of the farmhouse, listened to the paddy fields ripple and resound to a million raindrops.

  Soke and Hanzo had both gone to bed, but Jack couldn’t sleep. The revelations of the day played upon his mind. Although he’d found the Grandmaster’s explanation convincing, he felt uneasy staying under the same roof as Dragon Eye’s teacher.

  Ever since encountering Soke, the truth had been like shifting sands beneath his feet, and he wouldn’t put it past the Grandmaster to be misleading him again. After all, the ninja were masters of deception.

  Yet, in his heart, Jack felt certain he’d finally discovered the real reason why this ninja was helping him. It had nothing to do with the rutter, and all to do with guilt. He’d seen the sincere remorse in the old man’s eyes. This at least explained why Soke had argued so adamantly for Jack to stay, in spite of the risks to the village. And the Grandmaster had fulfilled his promise to teach Jack ninjutsu. For that Jack was grateful; and with these new skills, he was ready to leave. But he couldn’t, could he? Not now he believed Hanzo was Akiko’s lost brother, Kiyoshi.

  Earlier that evening, he’d been struck by a dilemma as to whether to share this knowledge with Soke. He’d been about to make up his mind when Hanzo had begun jumping from the doma into the rain and back again.

  ‘Look, I’m hardly wet,’ Hanzo had cried excitedly.

  ‘But why try to dodge raindrops?’ Jack had asked.

  ‘I’m perfecting my lightning-fast technique.’

  Hanzo had insisted Jack join in and they both leapt in and out of the rain.

  ‘Very amusing,’ Soke had said, chuckling at their antics, ‘but I’m even faster.’

  The Grandmaster had then stepped out into the centre of the yard and promptly got soaking wet.

  ‘What sort of lightning technique is that?’ Hanzo had demanded.

  ‘My speed doesn’t depend upon a simple trick of avoiding raindrops. When it rains, you get wet. That’s to be expected. The real test is whether you can avoid me!’

  ‘Of course I can, Grandfather,’ Hanzo had exclaimed, running around the yard with Soke play-chasing him.

  That scene had brought home to Jack just how happy the boy was – as a ninja. Would it really be fair to turn Hanzo’s world upside down?

  On the other hand, Akiko was heartbroken and Jack’s loyalty lay with her. She had a right to know her little brother was alive. Kiyoshi had been kidnapped. He justifiably belonged with Akiko and their mother, Hiroko, in Toba.

  Jack had decided not to tell Soke. He didn’t know how the Grandmaster would react. Soke, after all, loved the boy as his own. Besides, what if somehow he was wrong?

  The only way to prove Kiyoshi’s identity, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was for Akiko to see the boy for herself.

  But how?

  First, Jack didn’t know where he was. Second, he had to get a message to Akiko. Third, he was sure the ninja wouldn’t welcome another samurai in their village.

  Until he worked out how to contact Akiko and reunite her with her brother, Jack had no option but to remain. He’d use the excuse of needing extra training. This would delay his journey but, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to stay. The possibility of seeing Akiko again filled him with joy.

  With that pleasant thought, Jack stepped back inside the doma and quietly headed for bed. In the hearth room, the embers of the fire glowed red in the darkness and he noticed Soke’s door ajar. Remembering the Grandmaster’s challenge, Jack wondered if his stealth-walking was now good enough. After much practice, he’d managed to cross the rice paper without tearing it. This test would prove if all his extra training was paying off.

  He slipped like a ghost into Soke’s bedroom, his mind silent, his feet treading with the lightest touch.

  The Grandmaster didn’t stir. But the pillow was beneath his head.

  How could he remove it without waking the old man?

  Jack suddenly felt a drip of water run down his neck. Looking up, he saw the thatch was leaking slightly.

  The Ring of Water, he thought.

  Reaching up, Jack gently tugged at a loose piece of straw.

  He waited.

  As the rain seeped through the thatch, a bead of water formed at the end of the protruding straw. It dropped on to Soke’s forehead.

  Moaning sleepily, the Grandmaster rolled aside, lifting his head out of the way. In that moment, Jack snatched the pillow.

  Soke’s head settled back on the tatami and Jack smiled to himself. He’d done it!

  The Grandmaster’s eyes blinked open. Looking at Jack, then at the pillow and finally at the roof where another drop of water had just fallen, he laughed.

  ‘Jack, it appears you’re ready for the Test of Truth.’

  29

  TEST OF TRUTH

  This is madness, thought Jack as he knelt down upon the large flat rock that jutted out from the mountainside. Far below, he could see some villagers in the paddy fields, appearing as small as ants. Above was a cloudless sky. Behind him stood Soke, a sword in his hand.

  Being in such a vulnerable position, Jack had little chance against the ninja.

  The whole situation put him on edge and he still couldn’t believe he’d been talked into it. Although he’d experienced some tough challenges during his training as a samurai – breaking wood with his bare hands, running the Gauntlet and even overcoming the limits of mind and body by standing beneath a raging waterfall – this topped them all.

  A tense silence hung over the crowd of ninja as they waited for the Test of Truth to begin. To Jack’s right, Shonin and Momochi observed him with interest, wondering how a gaijin would fare against such a ninja challenge. Jack glanced nervously over to the group on his right, spotting Hanzo, Tenzen and Miyuki at the front. She was taking some pleasure in Jack’s discomfort, attempting to psyche him out by staring at him. Hanzo was fidgeting with excitement. Of all the other ninja students in attendance, Tenzen was the only one with an encouraging smile on his face.

  Jack was already perspiring and his heart raced. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Soke had advised him to clear his mind of all thoughts, not even contemplate whether he would pass or fail. To do so would guarantee failure – and the consequence could be fatal.

  The whole purpose of the Test of Truth was to enter the Ring of Sky – to experience the Void and channel the unseen power of the universe. It was necessary for him to enter a state of mushin, ‘no mind’. He had to act without thinking – without relying on his physical senses.

  ‘Let the Test of Truth commence,’ announced Shonin.

  Jack knew Soke held a razor-sharp ninjatō in his hands. Without warning, the Grandmaster would strike at his head. It was up to Jack to get out of the way. But, of course, he didn’t know when to move. He had to sense the attack.

  This was the Test of Truth.

  Jack called upon all his meditation practice with Sensei Yamada. He closed his eyes, emptied his mind and slowed his breathing. Jack took comfort in the fact that he’d experienced mushin once before during a duel. He now sought that supreme mental state of a warrior in combat, one where he expected nothing, but was ready for anything.

  For a brief second, Jack imagined Soke’s sword slicing through his skull, but quickly pushed the gruesome image away. He had to focus.

  The Grandmaster could attack at any moment.

  Allowing his awareness of his surroundings to expand, his survival instinct reached out like tentative fingers in the darkness. The air ar
ound him became motionless, time seeming to stand still.

  It was no more than a sense of intent. But, in the space of a heartbeat, he felt a surge of energy push him to one side. He rolled with it, moving a fraction of a second before the gleaming blade of the ninjatō scythed through the air.

  The Grandmaster had struck … and missed.

  Jack came to a stop at the very lip of the rock, teetering on its edge.

  ‘Congratulations!’ said Shonin as Jack backed cautiously away from certain death. ‘Not everyone survives that test unscathed.’

  The students applauded Jack’s success, while Hanzo bounced up and down in delight. Even Miyuki acknowledged the feat, begrudgingly clapping along with the other ninja.

  Jack was too shaken up by the experience to do anything but breathe a long sigh of relief.

  ‘This completes your initiation into the Five Rings,’ said Soke, addressing Jack. ‘Having experienced them all now, you’re firmly on your way to learning how to endure like the Earth, flow like Water, strike like Fire, run like the Wind and be all-seeing like the Sky. Stay the path and you’ll complete the journey.’

  The Grandmaster turned to his students.

  ‘Jack’s no longer samurai,’ he declared. ‘From now on, he’s a ninja.’

  30

  FIRST MISSION

  Back in the village square, the students gathered round to personally congratulate Jack. Hanzo stood proudly beside him.

  ‘Told you the tengu could do it,’ he boasted to Kobei and his friends.

  Tenzen clapped Jack firmly on the shoulder. ‘I always knew there was ninja blood in you.’

  Jack grinned in response. He never imagined in his wildest dreams that he’d actually become a ninja, let alone feel proud of such an achievement. But during his time with the shinobi, he’d come to see them in a new light. While Soke hadn’t been completely open with the truth, his intentions had proved honourable. The ninja had protected him from the samurai, taught him ninjutsu and even tried to make amends for Dragon Eye’s sins. A single tree certainly didn’t make a forest.

  Deep down, Jack knew he’d always consider himself a samurai first and could never reconcile his father’s death with being a shinobi. But he also realized that being a ninja could have its advantages.

  The last to approach was Miyuki.

  ‘You did well,’ she said, almost managing a smile. ‘But all this has just been practice. You’re not a true ninja until you’ve completed your first mission.’

  Jack gave Miyuki a questioning look.

  ‘You need to prove yourself,’ she explained. ‘Come, Shonin has summoned you.’

  Miyuki led Jack inside the farmhouse.

  ‘This is an unnecessary risk,’ Momochi was arguing as Jack entered the reception room. ‘What if he makes a mistake? Or, worse, he’s discovered?’

  ‘It’s a straightforward assignment,’ replied Shonin. ‘Besides, he’ll be invisible.’

  Shonin beckoned Jack to join them. ‘Are you ready for your first mission as a ninja?’

  Jack bowed his head in response, praying he wouldn’t be required to assassinate anyone.

  ‘Momochi’s in charge. He will brief you.’

  The second-in-command looked incensed, his moustache twitching in annoyance. He was clearly unhappy that Shonin had once again overruled him.

  Jack was equally concerned. Here was Momochi’s ideal opportunity to ensure he failed … or even orchestrate his capture by daimyo Akechi.

  Grunting his disapproval, Momochi reluctantly addressed Jack. ‘We believe daimyo Akechi is planning an offensive against the ninja clans in these mountains. We need to know what preparations he’s made: how big his army is; when and where he will attack. The more we know about our enemy’s plans, the easier it will be to stop him.’

  Despite the risks, Jack realized this might be the opportunity he’d been looking for. Not only could he learn of his location in the Iga mountains, he might find a way to send a message to Akiko.

  ‘I’ll need to know where daimyo Akechi is,’ said Jack.

  ‘Maruyama Castle, two days’ trek east.’

  ‘Am I to go alone?’

  ‘Of course not!’ snorted Momochi. ‘One of our most experienced ninja, Zenjubo, will lead the party, which will comprise Tenzen, Shiro, Miyuki and you.’

  ‘So when do we leave?’ Jack asked.

  Shonin laughed. ‘I like this new ninja!’

  The next morning, they gathered in the farmhouse for their final briefing. Zenjubo, a tough, no-nonsense man of few words, handed out their supplies and equipment. He acknowledged Jack with a brief bow of his head, but made no comment as to his inclusion in the team.

  Soke was at hand to ensure Jack was properly attired and prepared for the mission.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Who said that?’ Soke replied, glancing round as if Jack suddenly wasn’t there.

  Hanzo, who’d come along to wish Jack luck, giggled. ‘The tengu’s invisible! It’s magic!’

  Jack joined in the laughter. He felt rather stupid wearing a basket on his head, but he couldn’t deny the Komusō outfit made the perfect disguise.

  Soke passed Jack the shakuhachi. ‘Remember it’s not just about looking like a Monk of Emptiness, it’s about acting the part,’ he reminded Jack. ‘That’s why the shakuhachi practice was so important. Playing the flute will convince the samurai you’re a real Komusō.’

  Zenjubo took his final instruction from Momochi and announced it was time to leave.

  ‘Don’t get caught, tengu!’ Hanzo called cheerfully after him.

  ‘I won’t,’ replied Jack, ‘as long as you haven’t set any traps for me!’

  Momochi was standing at the main entrance. As Jack passed by, the ninja grabbed his arm.

  ‘A word of warning,’ he hissed. ‘Shinobi are everywhere. If you betray us, we will know.’

  31

  MONKS OF EMPTINESS

  Jack paid careful attention to their route. He plotted the course in his head like entries in a ship’s log, noting unusual features, memorizing distance, direction and time travelled by the position of the sun.

  During the first morning, Zenjubo didn’t follow any paths – not that there were many to follow. Jack realized this was another Ring of Earth defence to keep the village well hidden. But Jack was able to use a couple of distinctive outcrops to get his bearings. Around midday, they hit a main trail and thereafter Jack became more confident he could retrace his steps. The first night, they slept beside a river with a small waterfall, while the second night was located in a forest clearing marked by two fallen trees.

  ‘With the war over, how can daimyo Akechi justify raising an army?’ Jack asked as they broke camp on the morning of the third day.

  Zenjubo looked at Jack, then nodded at Tenzen to explain.

  ‘Officially,’ said Tenzen, ‘he’s using the non-payment of rice tax as an excuse. At least, that’s his reason for recruiting more samurai.’

  ‘You samurai have an easy life,’ commented Shiro, ‘not even having to grow your own rice.’

  Miyuki tutted in disgust. ‘It’s got more to do with his samurai sense of pride. Daimyo Akechi wants to finish what Nobunaga started. To achieve what the General failed to do. He’s determined to wipe out the shinobi for good.’

  ‘Quiet!’ ordered Zenjubo as they came to the edge of the forest.

  Ahead was a long road that led across a grassy open plain to the castle town of Maruyama. Upon a small hill at its centre, the fortress stood like a lone sentry. Encircled by a bailey wall, its base was constructed of coarse-cut stone upon which a four-storey keep had been built. Its walls were crisp cloud-white, topped with curving roofs of grey tile. Set off to one side was a wooden watchtower with unobstructed views of the plain.

  ‘Kasumiga Jo,’ whispered Tenzen. Mist Castle.

  ‘Why’s it called that?’ asked Jack quietly.

  ‘Legend has it that a fog descends to protect it in time
s of battle.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ instructed Zenjubo, putting on his wicker basket. ‘Shiro, stay here.’

  ‘Why me?’ complained Shiro. ‘I always get the boring jobs on a mission. Why can’t I go on surveillance for once?’

  ‘Do as I say. Guard the packs. Act as lookout. If something goes wrong, tell Shonin.’

  Shiro crossed his arms moodily, but did as he was told.

  Zenjubo turned to Jack in his Komusō disguise. He took one look and passed Jack a wet piece of bark. ‘Rub your hands and lower arms with this,’ he instructed.

  ‘What’s it for?’ asked Jack, the bark leaving a light brown residue on his skin.

  ‘The hairs on your arms give you away,’ explained Zenjubo. ‘They’re too light in colour for a Japanese. Now, are you clear what you have to do on this mission?’

  Jack nodded. They were to enter Maruyama in pairs, beg for alms in various locations, visit the temple, then leave. On their way through the town and castle grounds, they were to take note of the number of troops, horses, any artillery, the level of provisions and the state of readiness of the army. Jack had been partnered with Miyuki to investigate the town, while Tenzen and Zenjubo would infiltrate the castle.

  A steady flow of traffic could be seen passing in and out of the main gate. Some merchants had packhorses, but most were on foot, bearing their loads upon their backs. Two men, sweating in the heat, shouldered a fancy palanquin and people stepped aside to allow the important dignitary to pass. Then a young man came running out of town, leaving a trail of dust in his wake as he sprinted down the road.

  ‘He’s in a hurry,’ Jack commented.

  ‘Hikyaku,’ muttered Zenjubo.

  Jack looked to Tenzen for an explanation.

  ‘We call them “Flying Feet”. He’s a courier. Merchants rely on them for business. But judging by his speed, he’s delivering a message for the daimyo.’

  Jack was intrigued. Maybe he could hire one of these Flying Feet to contact Akiko. The problem would be finding one he could trust.

 

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