Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky

by Chris Bradford

  ‘We can’t stay pinned down here forever,’ said Jack.

  ‘You’re right,’ replied Miyuki. She looked to the other end of the alley, only to find it blocked by a spiked fence. ‘We’ve no choice but to make a run for the bridge.’

  She turned to Akiko. ‘Can you make it?’

  Akiko nodded. ‘It’s my shoulder, not my legs, that’s the problem!’

  ‘We’ll soon fix that.’ Miyuki rifled in her bag for her ninja pouch. She pulled out a vial with a cork stopper and a couple of field dressings. Taking hold of the arrow shaft in both hands, she snapped off the feathered flights.

  Akiko gasped in pain.

  ‘Careful!’ said Jack, holding Akiko steady.

  ‘That is me being careful,’ replied Miyuki. ‘We need to get to the wound.’

  Unclipping Akiko’s breastplate, she eased it away and inspected the injury.

  ‘Good, it’s not deep,’ she muttered and gripped the remains of the broken arrow. ‘I’ll try to be quick,’ she told Akiko.

  Nodding, Akiko bit down on her lower lip as Miyuki teased the arrowhead out of her punctured flesh, but shrieked as the barb came free. More blood flooded out. Miyuki soaked this away with one of the dressings, then uncorked the vial.

  ‘This might sting a little,’ she warned, sprinkling white powder over the open gash.

  Akiko’s eyes flew wide open as if Miyuki had just set fire to her shoulder.

  ‘The pain means it’s working,’ explained Miyuki, allowing Akiko to clasp her hand tightly. ‘It’ll stop the bleeding and prevent any infection.’

  ‘It had better do!’ panted Akiko, a sheen of perspiration on her brow. ‘Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘What are friends for,’ replied Miyuki with a smile.

  Jack hurriedly wrapped the spare dressing over the wound as Miyuki repacked her pouch.

  ‘Where’s Snowball?’ asked Akiko, the pain easing slightly.

  Jack risked a glance into the street. In that split second, an arrow speared his straw hat and pinned it to the wall. But he managed to spot Snowball. The horse had jumped one of the high thorn hedges and was now galloping across the fields. ‘He’s fine. But he’s taken our packs and your bow with him,’ said Jack, wondering how he’d ever retrieve his rutter.

  Akiko saw the concern on his face. ‘Don’t worry, he won’t go far. And I still have my swords to fight with,’ she replied, managing a valiant smile and patting the katana and wakizashi on her hip.

  Jack tied off the dressing and clipped her breastplate back into position.

  ‘Are you ready to go?’ asked Miyuki, having signed to Yori and Benkei their plan to run.

  Nodding, Jack slipped an arm round Akiko and helped her to her feet. Miyuki checked the watchtower and village roofs one last time. ‘On my signal … three … two …’

  ‘Wait!’ exclaimed Saburo. ‘We can’t retreat.’

  Jack and his friends stared in dismay as the wooden bridge burst into flames.

  ‘This is an ambush!’ said Miyuki, her tone grave. ‘And a well-planned one at that.’

  52

  Death Trap

  The absence of the villagers; the fortified watchtower; the spiked fence blocking the alley – and now the sabotaged bridge. In hindsight, it was all so obvious. They’d walked straight into a trap.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ asked Saburo.

  ‘We fight our way free,’ Akiko replied, clenching her teeth against the pain and drawing her katana.

  ‘But who are we fighting?’ said Miyuki, her eyes sweeping the deserted street. ‘They’re hidden like ninja!’

  Jack knew of only one person who could be responsible for such devious planning.

  The roof above them creaked. They looked up to see an archer glaring down, an arrow targeted on Saburo. The archer drew back his bow, his task as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. A shuriken spun upwards, slicing through the hemp bowstring. The metal star lodged in the archer’s chest as the huge bow sprang apart in his hands and the arrow dropped harmlessly to the ground. Losing his footing, the injured archer tumbled head first into the alley to land with a bone-snapping crunch.

  ‘Get the bow!’ said Akiko. ‘He should have a spare string in his quiver.’

  Jack rushed over, but the bamboo shaft had cracked on impact. Instead, he wrenched Miyuki’s shuriken from the dead archer’s chest. They’d need every weapon they could get their hands on to survive this battle.

  He checked the man’s kimono for a kamon, but found no identifying crests. But he did find a knife.

  ‘What’s Benkei up to?’ exclaimed Saburo, directing their attention to the other side of the road.

  Benkei had tipped over the wooden butt, emptying out the remains of the water. Yori was crawling inside, swiftly followed by Benkei himself. They righted the barrel and began to shuffle across the street, Yori poking the end of his shakujō through the bunghole.

  ‘They’re crazy!’ uttered Saburo, as arrows rained down, blasting the barrel in a hailstorm of death.

  Splinters flew in all directions, but Yori and Benkei were cocooned safely inside. Or so Jack hoped. He could see some of the arrows had penetrated almost halfway up their shafts. They heard a muffled yelp and the barrel shuffled faster. Sections of it began to disintegrate under the relentless onslaught and Jack caught a glimpse of a pair of terrified eyes. By the time the water butt reached the alleyway, it had a coat of arrows so thick that it looked like a swollen porcupine.

  Tossing off their improvised and crumbling armour, Benkei and Yori dived into the alleyway. Benkei lay on his front, clasping his rear, a red patch staining his kimono.

  ‘Next time I suggest an idea like that, Yori,’ he groaned, ‘tell me to shut up!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I will,’ Yori replied, several drops of blood marking his face and arms where the tips of the arrowheads had pierced him.

  ‘That’s some acupuncture treatment!’ said Saburo, handing Yori his shakujō.

  Jack pulled Benkei to his feet, giving him the knife he’d found. ‘And for your next trick can you magic us out of here?’

  ‘I wish I could, nanban,’ said Benkei, swallowing uneasily as he stared over Jack’s shoulder.

  The dread in his eyes made Jack turn to the street. The road was no longer empty. A band of samurai, five warriors wide and four deep, stood battle-ready with weapons drawn.

  ‘It looks as if the arrows were just to soften us up!’ remarked Saburo.

  Miyuki frantically searched for another way out, but the windows overlooking the alley were all barred shut from inside. She tried to scale the spiked fence and cursed as she cut her hand.

  ‘It’s covered in thorns,’ she cried, blood dripping from her palm. ‘This place is a death trap!’

  ‘Six against twenty,’ said Jack. ‘That’s better odds than when we fought those bandits in Tamagashi.’

  ‘But that time we had a whole village helping us,’ Saburo argued. ‘And these ronin are trained samurai.’

  ‘So are we,’ reminded Yori. He bent down and took an arrow from the dead archer’s quiver. He snapped it in half. ‘A samurai alone is like a single arrow.’ He now took six in his hand. ‘But together we’re strong and unconquerable.’

  The significance wasn’t lost on Jack or Akiko, both of whom recalled Sensei Yamada’s morale-raising lesson prior to the Battle of Osaka Castle. A slight trembling in Yori’s hand betrayed his true feelings, though. Jack grasped the six arrows with him and steadied his hand.

  ‘Where there are friends, there’s hope,’ he said, repeating the same words he’d used to comfort Yori moments before that terrible battle on the Tenno-ji Plain.

  Yori smiled bravely up at him. Jack had to admire his friend. Out of all of them, Yori was the most afraid of fighting, yet he displayed the greatest courage in overcoming that fear.

  Akiko now held the arrows too. Her gaze met Jack’s, their heartfelt vow passing silently between them.

  Forever bound to one another.

&
nbsp; Saburo placed his hand on top and looked at Jack. ‘Only twenty samurai, you say? I agree, far better odds.’

  Miyuki joined Jack at his side. She clasped the arrows just below his hand. ‘To the death!’

  Benkei was the last to grab hold. ‘I hate to feel left out,’ he said, even managing a nervous grin.

  They all knew what had to be done. As the samurai closed in on their dead-end alley, they threw the arrows into the air and let out a mighty battle cry. Then, drawing their weapons, the six young warriors charged out into the street.

  53

  Cut Off

  Taking up a fighting formation across the road, Jack and his friends confronted the enemy head on. Their boldness brought the advancing samurai to a halt.

  ‘This is your last chance to surrender!’ shouted Miyuki. ‘Put down your weapons and we’ll spare your lives.’

  The samurai turned to one another, incredulous at such an absurd demand. A low chuckle rose from one of the ronin. He was soon joined by the others as he exploded into a bellyful of laughter.

  ‘Surrender?’ he guffawed. ‘Are you serio–’ His amusement was cut short by a shuriken piercing his throat.

  ‘Deadly serious,’ said Miyuki.

  The laughter from the other samurai quickly died as their comrade collapsed to his knees, blood spurting from his torn neck.

  ‘Nineteen left,’ said Saburo. ‘The odds are improving.’

  The band of ronin roared in anger and thundered forward. Jack took up a Two Heavens ‘Rising Sun’ stance, both katana and wakizashi held high and wide. The seemingly open and unguarded posture was actually a powerful offensive technique, drawing in the unwitting challenger before destroying them in a double sword swipe. Two samurai rushed Jack at once, but their sword attacks were no match for the Two Heavens. Nor were the quality of their blades equal to the steel forged by the legendary swordmaker Shizu. Jack’s red-handled katana and wakizashi scythed through his opponents’ weapons, shattering their blades. The two samurai stared in shocked disbelief at the sword stumps in their hands. Jack side-kicked one of the men in the chest, cracking his ribs. Then he whipped round, striking the other in the jaw with the brass pommel of his wakizashi. The man was knocked out cold in an instant, not even aware of hitting the ground.

  Akiko fought furiously, the rush of combat flooding her with adrenalin and masking the pain in her shoulder. As nimble as a dancer, she wrong-footed her first attacker and drove the tip of her sword into his left shoulder.

  ‘Now we’re even!’ she said, before spin-kicking him in the head.

  Miyuki was faced with a mighty warrior wielding a battleaxe. Twice her size, he loomed over her.

  ‘Don’t hurt me,’ she pleaded, cowering to the floor.

  The warrior grinned maliciously. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing,’ he promised. ‘Well, not after I’ve finished with you.’ He raised the axe to cleave her in half.

  Snatching a handful of dust from the road, Miyuki threw it into the warrior’s eyes. Blinded, the man didn’t see Miyuki leap to her feet and aim a front kick squarely between his legs. With a high-pitched yelp, the warrior collapsed in an eye-watering heap, before dropping the axe on his own head.

  ‘You were right. I didn’t feel a thing,’ Miyuki replied, wiping the dust from her hands in triumph.

  Without a sword, Yori valiantly kept his opponent at bay by repeatedly thrusting the iron tip of his shakujō. After the third successful strike against him, the ronin grew furious and frustrated. Yori hit him again, but this time the ronin was prepared for it and grabbed the staff, wrenching it out of Yori’s grip.

  ‘What are you going to do now, monk boy?’ he laughed.

  ‘This,’ replied Yori, sucking in a deep breath and yelling. ‘YAH!’

  For a moment, the ronin simply looked stunned. Then he keeled over backwards as if he’d run into a stone wall.

  Jack tried not to laugh as his friend nonchalantly retrieved his staff from the comatose man. Yori had clearly perfected his kiaijutsu to a fine art. Sensei Yamada would be proud of his protégé.

  ‘Eight down, twelve to go,’ shouted Saburo, despatching another ronin.

  Benkei stood behind everyone, the knife in his hand, boldly threatening anyone who got past Jack and the others. Not that any did. With the adjusted grip suggested by Shiryu, Jack was wielding his swords as fluidly as ever. No attacker could get near him without lethal consequences. At this rate, they would soon conquer the ronin and leave this fateful village far behind.

  Then a second wave of samurai appeared: twenty in front and at least that many again behind them.

  ‘We’re surrounded!’ Yori cried in alarm.

  ‘Time to get out of this death trap,’ said Miyuki, checking between each of the buildings as they drove the first wave of samurai back up the street. But every alleyway and path had been blocked off with spiked fences. Behind, the samurai were closing in fast. In moments they’d be overwhelmed.

  ‘Down here!’ called Benkei, beckoning them towards an open alley he’d spotted.

  Disarming his attacker with an Autumn Leaf strike, Jack raced over to Benkei and the others. The route led to the village pond. They charged along the narrow alley, Benkei leading the way, Miyuki taking up the rear. As they fled out the other side, they passed beneath an overhanging section of roof spanning the alley. Jack didn’t think anything of it until it was too late. Without warning, a bamboo grille dropped down and Miyuki was cut off, leaving her to face the samurai alone.

  54

  Lamp Oil

  Sheathing his swords, Jack ran back to help Miyuki raise the grille. Straining every muscle, he cried, ‘It won’t move.’

  Saburo and Yori now joined them. Even with their combined strength, they couldn’t shift the bamboo frame.

  ‘The grille’s locked in place from above,’ observed Akiko.

  Miyuki glanced up, seeking another way out. The bamboo bars met flush with the overhanging roof and building walls, leaving no gap to climb through. She was boxed in like a mouse in a trap.

  The samurai now entered the other end of the alley, one by one. The ronin in front was a bearded monster with a battle-chipped katana. He took his time, knowing that his quarry had nowhere to run to.

  ‘NANBAN!’ shouted Benkei, suddenly realizing the others weren’t following. ‘We have company. Lots of it!’

  Looking over his shoulder, Jack saw that the second wave of samurai had doubled back and was now at the lower end of the village pond near the river. Strewn with clumps of reeds and a couple of willow trees hanging from its banks, the large expanse of muddy water blocked any direct route to the fields beyond. They’d have to run round it. And, with the samurai charging up both sides of the pond, they had no time to lose.

  ‘Get out of here,’ said Miyuki. ‘Save yourselves while you can.’

  ‘No, I won’t leave you behind,’ Jack replied, still desperately trying to lift the grille.

  ‘You don’t have any other choice.’

  Saburo and Akiko prepared to engage the frontline of attackers in a brave, but ultimately futile, attempt to hold off the tide of samurai. In the alley, the first of Miyuki’s assailants closed in.

  Miyuki looked intently through the bamboo bars at Jack, her midnight eyes resolved to her fate. ‘I always knew what sacrifice I might have to make for you, Jack. And I do so with all my heart.’

  She tenderly touched Jack’s hand, savouring one last moment of goodbye. Then she turned to confront the first ronin.

  ‘NO!’ said Jack, shaking the bars as Miyuki clashed blades with the first of her attackers. ‘No one should sacrifice themselves for me. We’ll find a way to save you.’

  ‘Come on!’ urged Benkei, heading along the bank towards a large rice barn and the fields beyond.

  Jack felt Yori’s hand on his arm, pulling him away. He resisted.

  ‘Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain,’ said Yori, his voice breaking at having to make such a harsh choice. Like Miyuki, he reco
gnized everyone’s chances of survival were rapidly dwindling the longer they delayed. And, with no realistic hope of rescuing her in time, they had to leave her behind.

  Yori dragged Jack away, but Jack despised himself for every step he took. He felt he was betraying his ninja friend, abandoning her to her fate. Miyuki was swallowed up by the mouth of the alley, his final glimpse of her a flash of steel as she fought to the death.

  ‘GO! GO!’ cried Akiko, running up behind them.

  ‘Where’s Saburo?’ asked Yori.

  ‘He’s holding off the samurai,’ she panted.

  Jack looked further down the bank to see Saburo swinging his sword in wide defensive arcs. Eight samurai tried to fight their way past him, but he held his ground.

  ‘We can’t let him fight alone,’ protested Jack.

  ‘He said … the odds were good,’ replied Akiko, but the sorrow in her eyes told another story. ‘And as soon as we reach that barn, he’s promised to join us.’

  They sprinted up the bank, realizing every second counted. On the opposite side of the pond, the other samurai were racing to head them off. Just as Benkei levelled with the rice barn, they heard Saburo cry out. One of the ronin had got through his defence and shoulder-barged him to the ground. They were both locked in combat, Saburo throttling his attacker who was trying to plunge a tantō into his heart. Rolling over and over, the two of them tumbled down the bank into the pond, before disappearing beneath the water with a huge splash.

  ‘Saburo!’ gasped Yori, stopping in his tracks.

  Jack waited a beat for Saburo to come back up – but neither he nor the ronin did. Only an ominous pool of blood rose to the surface.

  ‘No! NO!’ sobbed Yori, struggling in Jack’s arms.

  ‘It’s too late … to save him,’ said Jack. With the samurai hot on their heels, it was Jack that now pulled the distraught Yori along with him. But he was no less distressed. The cruel loss of another loyal friend was like an iron punch to the gut – one that Jack didn’t think he would ever recover from.