The Ring of Water

by Chris Bradford

  Many of the dōshin could only stare in uncomprehending horror at the vast wave. A few broke ranks and ran for their lives. But Jack realized it was too late for that.

  Throwing himself at the nearest bridge pillar, he clung on with all the remaining strength he had. A moment later, the Kizu River swelled and the wave struck. Trees and debris collided with the bridge, ripping away large segments of walkway. A dōshin beside the rail was hit in the chest and tossed over the side. Water surged past, dragging other screaming helpless bodies along with it.

  Jack felt his arms being wrenched from their sockets as the wave clawed at him. He had endured storms, breakers, tempests and typhoons in his time on-board the Alexandria, but the force of this flood seemed worse than all of them combined. The dam had evidently burst and the lake emptied in a single massive rush into the valley, wreaking untold destruction along the way.

  The Ring of Water had come to his rescue.

  But if he couldn’t hold on it would be his death too.

  He spluttered for breath as his grip began to slip from round the pillar. His left arm was simply too weak and the tumultuous wave seemed to have no end.

  Then, all of a sudden, it passed. The river subsided. Jack gasped in air and desperately looked around for Ronin and Hana. The bridge was decimated. Some sections were missing entirely; other parts of the walkway swayed dangerously on the few remaining pillars. The supporting stilts that had survived stood like a forest of dead trees in the ferocious current of the river.

  The wave had washed away all but a few survivors.

  And one of them was Kazuki.

  Coughing up water, he spotted Jack and immediately struggled to his feet. Staggering across the skewed walkway, he swung his katana for Jack’s head. Jack rolled out of the way and scrambled along the edge of the twisted remains of the bridge.

  As Kazuki pursued him, Jack jumped to the next section.

  ‘You won’t escape!’ snarled Kazuki, leaping the gap too.

  Jack turned on him, katana at the ready. ‘Nor will you!’ he shot back.

  Their swords met and the duel continued. As they fought, a supporting pillar snapped loose and toppled into the river, snatched away in an instant by the current. The whole walkway listed to one side and Jack sprang to another smaller section. Kazuki dived for an adjacent part just as the walkway collapsed and disappeared beneath the waters.

  Yet still they battled.

  Jack evaded Kazuki’s thrust to the stomach and attempted an Autumn Leaf strike to disarm him. But Kazuki, recognizing the technique, immediately countered, rolling his blade out of danger.

  ‘Pathetic!’ snorted Kazuki. ‘I was always better than you at the Two Heavens.’

  His blade slashed across Jack’s torso and Jack was forced to leap backwards. His tiny section of walkway wobbled precariously under the sudden shift in weight and an ominous splintering was heard.

  Kazuki laughed cruelly as the whole structure keeled over.

  In desperation, Jack jumped for one of the supporting stilts. He landed on top of the pole, barely enough room for two feet. Cartwheeling his arms, he recovered his balance – Ronin’s plum flower pole training yet again a lifesaver.

  ‘Follow me if you dare!’ challenged Jack.

  Kazuki couldn’t reach Jack from where he stood and his determination to kill his enemy outweighed any concerns for his own safety. Grimacing, he leapt for the opposing bridge stilt. He landed well, but the poles were unstable and swayed sickeningly above the waters.

  The two of them now battled to stay upright, fighting each other at the same time.

  Jumping between stilts, they slashed and reeled, two warriors at the very edge of their abilities. The rain still came down in stinging sheets. The swords still sliced through the air. Jack knew it was only a matter of time before one of them made a fatal error.

  As he went to attack Kazuki, he lost his balance and lurched forward. For that one moment, he was completely defenceless.

  Seizing the opportunity, Kazuki jumped to a nearer stilt and brought his sword round to cut off Jack’s head.

  Jack, however, was in total control. Having drawn his rival in with his apparent vulnerability, he struck. Ducking the blade, he retaliated with a lightning cut at Kazuki’s legs. Kazuki was forced to leap into the air. But when he tried to land back upon his stilt, he missed and tumbled into the turbulent waters of the Kizu River.

  Jack watched him disappear beneath the surface, then pop back up, gasping for air. Snatching out for anything he could, Kazuki seized on to the last of the stilts as he was washed by. The current pulled at him mercilessly and, with his right hand crippled, Jack knew Kazuki couldn’t hold on for long.

  54

  SECRET BLADE

  ‘HELP ME!’ cried Kazuki.

  Jack stood there, watching his rival flounder in the river. He held no love for Kazuki and made no attempt to rescue him. In a matter of moments, all Jack’s problems with the Scorpion Gang would be over. Akiko would be safe from any reprisals.

  ‘Please!’ begged Kazuki, his face stretched taut with panic. His right hand slipped and he let out a cry.

  But he still managed to cling on with his left.

  Jack had witnessed many men drown in the treacherous seas of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. It was the worst fear a sailor faced. He recalled the poor unfortunate Sam, who’d been knocked overboard during the tempest that had shipwrecked the Alexandria upon Japan’s shores. Jack could still hear the sailor’s pitiful scream as he was dragged beneath the waves. Drowning was by no means an honourable death.

  Jack’s indifference to his rival’s plight wavered. He was finding it hard to simply stand by and let another human being drown before his eyes. Whatever his feelings were towards Kazuki, the samurai code of bushido taught rectitude – the ability to make the right moral decision – and benevolence, the principle of being compassionate towards all. For Jack, that meant even his enemies. Coming from a Christian family, his father had read the Bible to him every night and those teachings now returned …

  Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

  Was this an opportunity to change Kazuki for the better? A foreigner had unintentionally killed the boy’s mother. Could his prejudice now be reversed if a foreigner rescued his life?

  A difficult choice faced Jack – Kazuki’s life was in his hands. He could let his rival drown … or save him.

  Kazuki’s desperate grip upon the stilt was weakening, his fingers slipping off one by one.

  Hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision, Jack sheathed his sword and leapt across to the remaining section of walkway above Kazuki’s head.

  ‘Take my hand!’ he said, lying down and reaching for his enemy.

  Kazuki stared in disbelief at the gesture.

  ‘You’ll drown otherwise.’

  The river surged and Kazuki panicked. He clasped on to Jack’s wrist.

  But Jack didn’t pull him up.

  ‘Hurry … gaijin!’ spluttered Kazuki as river water rushed into his mouth.

  ‘Promise you’ll leave Akiko alone.’

  Kazuki didn’t answer.

  ‘Promise!’ demanded Jack.

  Another wave rolled over Kazuki’s head and he choked.

  ‘Yes! Yes! I’ll not harm her,’ he shouted, nodding furiously.

  ‘And that you’ll let me get to Nagasaki.’

  ‘Whatever you want!’

  With an almighty heave, Jack pulled Kazuki out of the river. They stood and faced one another, the cold hard rain falling around them. For a moment, Kazuki glared at Jack. Even having lost his katana, he appeared to consider continuing the fight.

  But then he bowed his head.

  ‘Arigatō gozaimasu,’ he mumbled by way of thanks.

  Jack smiled with relief. It seemed his act of mercy had changed Kazuki.

  Then Kazuki clenched his right-gloved hand and a gleaming blade sprang out from his kimono sleeve. Taken completely unawares, Jack had no time
to react.

  The secret blade drove straight for his heart.

  55

  HANA

  Jack was suddenly knocked aside, Kazuki’s blade missing him and sinking deep into his saviour’s chest. Blood smeared the walkway as Ronin fought bitterly, hand to hand, with Kazuki. They slammed against the rail. It gave way and they tumbled over the side.

  Running to the rail, Jack spotted Ronin and Kazuki flailing in the waters. The current had pulled them apart and Ronin was struggling to keep his head above the surface. Ensuring his pack was secure over his shoulder and knowing the rutter was safe within its waterproof oilskin, Jack dived into the river after him.

  Fighting for breath in the surge and swell, Jack was tossed like a piece of driftwood in an ocean storm. Catching a glimpse of Ronin through the foamy torrent, Jack swam with all his might. But his weak left arm was slowing him down.

  As the rapids and white water swirled around, Jack lost all sight of Ronin. He kept swimming, desperate to save his friend. But he knew the badly wounded Ronin might already have drowned. Kicking hard, he made for the position he’d last seen the samurai. A splintered bridge stilt shot by, almost taking Jack’s head off. Then he spied Ronin on his back, feebly splashing to stay afloat.

  Jack made a last-ditch effort and reached Ronin just as he went back under. Seizing the samurai’s arm, Jack pulled him above the surface and began to swim for the bank. But the drag from his pack, swords and an unconscious Ronin meant he made little headway.

  The river inextricably drew them downstream, sapping Jack’s strength with every stroke. A wave caught him full in the face and he choked on the waters. Too exhausted to keep going, he felt himself slip below the surface. Jack kicked hard and bobbed up briefly. A section of walkway bumped into them and he clung on to it, a life raft of fading hope.

  The riverbank rushed by and Jack kicked desperately in its direction. His legs felt like lead and he was on the point of giving up entirely, when they ran aground. With the last of his strength, Jack dragged the dead weight of Ronin clear of the water and collapsed beside him.

  The rain pelted the mud around them and Jack sank his fingers into the earth, not wanting to let go for fear of being pulled back into the raging torrent.

  Ronin groaned. Jack forced himself to his knees and examined the samurai.

  ‘You’re bleeding badly,’ said Jack, pressing a hand to the samurai’s ribs to stem the flow.

  Ronin gasped in pain and moaned, ‘Where’s … Hana?’

  Jack shook his head sadly. ‘I haven’t seen her since the wave struck.’

  ‘Must look.’

  Ronin struggled to sit up.

  Through the relentless grey rain, the bridge was no more than a few skeletal stilts, a shipwreck of a crossing. Survivors were few and far between.

  ‘I can’t see her,’ said Jack, realizing it was beyond hope that a non-swimmer would last long in the raging river.

  With trembling fingers, Ronin pulled a tattered paper crane from his kimono.

  ‘Hana … my little Hana,’ he sobbed.

  He tossed the tiny bird upon the waters and they watched it float away.

  ‘We’d best go,’ urged Jack, putting an arm round Ronin and helping him to his feet. ‘We need to hide and take care of your injuries.’

  They stumbled along the bank and towards the forest. Just as they reached the undergrowth there was a shout. They both looked round, fearing the worst.

  ‘JACK! RONIN!’ cried Hana above the roar of the river.

  She stood upon the opposite bank, jumping up and down, waving her arms madly.

  A smile of relief burst on to Ronin’s sorrowful face. ‘Hana! She’s safe!’

  But, further down, Jack spotted another figure crawling out – Kazuki.

  ‘RUN!’ cried Jack, pointing furiously to the danger.

  Hana saw Kazuki rise to his feet and she began to back away. Jack and Ronin watched helplessly, the river dividing them.

  Kazuki lurched towards Hana, his gloved hand with its secret blade primed to cut her to shreds.

  Then he collapsed in an exhausted heap, the battle and the flood having finally taken their toll.

  ‘GO!’ shouted Jack and Ronin as one.

  Nodding, Hana waved her farewell. She held up the inro to Jack, signalling her plan to head for Toba, before disappearing into the treeline.

  56

  REDEMPTION

  Jack helped Ronin lie down upon the straw futon in the back room of a small farmhouse. As they’d fled through the forest, Ronin had collapsed several times. Jack had doubted they’d find somewhere to shelter in time to save him, when they came across a farmstead. Despite his initial reluctance, the farmer’s compassion had outweighed his fear and he’d ushered them inside.

  In the main room where the hearth was, his wife busied herself boiling water to clean Ronin’s wounds. Jack spoke quietly to the farmer and he nodded, returning a moment later with an old chipped bottle.

  ‘Here,’ said Jack, offering it to Ronin. ‘To help numb the pain.’

  ‘What is it?’ he mumbled.

  ‘Saké.’

  Ronin pushed the bottle away. ‘No, I don’t need it … any more.’

  ‘I won’t let you die, Ronin,’ said Jack, alarmed at his words.

  Ronin grunted with laughter before grimacing in pain. ‘I’ve suffered far worse in my time. I’ll live. But you must go.’

  Jack shook his head adamantly. ‘I can’t leave you like this.’

  ‘You must. That Kazuki and his gang will come after you. You cannot wait for me to heal. Leave now while you have the chance.’

  Jack knew Ronin was speaking sense. There would be other bridges, other crossing points, and Kazuki would never give up on his hunt for him. Jack had got Ronin to a safe house. There was little more he could do for his friend. Leaving him was possibly the best thing he could do. He’d draw their pursuers away, allowing Ronin to recover in peace.

  Ronin gripped his hand. ‘I just hope … one day … you can find it in your heart to forgive me.’

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ said Jack. ‘I now remember everything that happened to me that day. You were never one of Botan’s gang. They drugged you too. And you tried to stop them killing me. I take back all I said. You’re a samurai of true bushido. If I was a daimyo, I’d be proud to have you in my service.’

  Opening up the folds of his sodden kimono, Jack pulled out the black pearl upon its pin and offered it to Ronin.

  ‘For saving my life,’ said Jack.

  Ronin looked thoughtfully at the pearl. ‘I know how precious this is to you,’ he said, and handed it back. ‘I appreciate your respect for our agreement, but you’ve given me something of far greater value.’

  Jack stared at him, bemused.

  ‘My honour and dignity.’

  He glanced at the bottle of saké. ‘I’ve tried to drown my regret for far too long. I’ve believed myself unworthy to be a samurai, ever since I failed to protect my father from that murderous spy who infiltrated our castle as a monk.’

  Ronin groaned as a wave of pain hit him, but he waved off Jack’s help.

  ‘I was ashamed that I’d failed in my principal duty. You see … I was the one to blame for letting the assassin in … I acted too slowly to save my father from his blade … The assassin even got away. That’s why I harbour such hatred towards all monks – one of them might be my father’s murderer.’

  Ronin looked at Jack, his eyes bloodshot, not from saké, but from tearful grief.

  ‘I’ve lived with this guilt of failure ever since. But now I can hold my head up high. I fulfilled my duty as a samurai in aiding and protecting you. I’ve made good my mistake. In time, I hope my father’s spirit will forgive me too.’

  Spotting a straw hat upon the floor, Ronin reached for it. With great care, he placed it upon Jack’s head and pulled down the brim to cover his face.

  ‘Now you’re a true ronin.’

  57

  RONIN JACK


  Leaving the farmhouse far behind, Jack strode through the driving rain. In front of him stretched a waterlogged road, winding through countless paddy fields towards a mountain range hidden behind a curtain of low clouds. He was heading west for the plains of Osaka, where he would meet the coast and follow it round and down towards Nagasaki.

  No one else dared brave the storm, but Jack kept the straw hat dipped across his face just as a precaution. To the casual observer, he appeared no more than a wandering masterless samurai. Anyone who looked closer would be in for a shock.

  At least Jack was able to avoid towns and main byways for the next few days. With the little money Ronin had left, they’d been able to purchase some rice and provisions from the farmer. But his supplies wouldn’t last long and, with the onset of winter, there would be far less food to scavenge. Jack was gravely concerned how he’d survive the long journey ahead.

  But, thanks to Ronin and Hana, he did have his swords, Akiko’s pearl, Tenzen’s shuriken stars, Sensei Yamada’s omamori and, most importantly, his father’s rutter.

  The Riddling Monk’s first prophecy came into his head and Jack now saw a pattern in the monk’s mystifying words.

  What you find is lost … He’d found the gang who’d taken his money, but the gambler had lost it all.

  What you give is given back … He’d given Ronin the pearl, only for his friend to return it.

  What you fight is defeated … He’d duelled Araki, Botan, daimyo Sanada and overcome them all – though Kazuki was one unfinished fight.

  What you want is sacrificed … What Jack really wanted was the companionship of his friends. He missed his loyal brother-in-arms Yamato, wise Yori, the ever-cheerful Saburo, the spirited Miyuki and, most importantly, his best friend, Akiko. But, once again, he found himself alone upon his journey, his friendships sacrificed through no fault of his own – condemned by the Shogun to a life on the run.

  Jack stared at the rain falling upon a nearby paddy field. Rings of water rippled outwards from every raindrop and he heard his father’s voice in his head from that first day they’d set sail for the Japans …