Cave of the Shadow Ninja: Part I
Page 6
The Ninja’s blade sang through the thin northern air and the two swords connected with a loud “clang!” The dark assassin shifted and adjusted as he swung, quick and calculated, his footing keeping pace with each of Sendai’s strokes.
“There’s something strange here,” Sendai pondered. “Something I can’t place.” The Ninja moved like dancing water, a form Sendai had never seen before. There was experience, a grace to the villain that seemed familiar but out of context.
As if the dark foe had sensed Sendai’s suspicions, he countered in quick jabbing movements targeted at the Metecian’s body. That’s it, Sendai thought. He’s not impatient, he’s scared, running from something or perhaps, against a ticking clock.
“Interesting,” Sendai said out loud, catching the Ninja’s eye once more. His opponent brought another fury of attacks, each strike more perfectly placed than the last. Then surprise came from the thief’s sword as Sendai’s blade became a blur, deflecting each and every strike.
Like clockwork, the Ninja changed strategy anew, and Sendai deflected another swing. He rolled the black-clad killer’s sword into the rocks, a typical move in closed quarters, but as the Ninja’s blade closed in on the right side of his face, Sendai realized he hadn’t the momentum to duck the swing. This is it, he thought to himself. I’ve lost. I’ve finally met my—
The Ninja’s sword whisked past Sendai’s nose and clashed into the rocks beside him as his thoughts came to a sudden halt.
Sendai pulled back, surprised at the perplexing turn. That strike was meant for my face, I’m sure of it, he thought as his fingers inspected a slice through the cloth of his head wrap.
“What’s your game, Ninja?” he demanded, confused as to why the thief would pull back a chance at his eye. If this was some form of psychological manipulation meant to confuse him, Sendai feared it was working. Again, the answer came only from the Ninja’s sword as he moved like a silent shadow, leaping off rocks and flipping over Sendai’s head.
The thief had impeccable skill, but the motivations Sendai sensed in him didn’t match the rumors he’d heard. A few days before reaching Merv, they caught wind of a troop of archers that faced down the thief in the west. They fired a flurry of arrows, but the Ninja managed to catch each one out of the thin air. That evening, as the troop slept, the arrows returned suddenly and violently, piercing each of their eyes one-by-one.
Anger, malice, or, most troubling of all, an evil enjoyment of torture drove such a sadistic act, but this Ninja showed no such treachery. Each jab, each parry, each block came from a highly trained assassin without the greed or vindictive deceit Sendai had learned to expect from professional miscreants.
“There is pain,” Sendai read, “the type that comes with secrets, there’s no denying that.” As their blades connected over and over in the starlight, the Metecian couldn’t help but feel the same emotions creeping into his thoughts that Patrick had triggered all those years ago.
Suddenly, as if the notion had brought the Wolfen back to his feet, Patrick appeared behind the Ninja with a bloody nose and a drawn sword. “No!” Sendai called out as Patrick took his swing.
Without straining so much as an eyelash, the Ninja leapt out from below Patrick’s blade and swept his legs out from under him. Angry, Sendai blocked the fatal swing with such force the Ninja fell to his back. “I don’t need your help, Wolfen!” Sendai yelled in an attempt to control the situation.
“Then what’s taking so long?” Patrick called back as he got to his feet.
At that, the Ninja stood and raised an eyebrow as if to ask, “Yeah, what’s taking so long?”
“Now’s not the time to explain to you the intricacies of swordplay!” Sendai fumed as he deflected the Ninja’s swing once again.
“I know the intricacies of swordplay!” Patrick defended with an insulted tone as he ran for the Ninja once again. Before Patrick so much as lifted his sword, however, the assassin used the Wolfen’s momentum against him and flipped him onto his back. At that moment, as the Wolfen landed at the Ninja’s feet, Sendai spotted another strange move…
The thief caught Patrick’s right arm before he hit the rocky ground, ensuring his uninjured shoulder took the bulk of the impact. As Sendai moved in to protect his friend from another killing blow, he spotted the thief shooting a quick look in his direction before striking.
He’s gauging my distance, the swordsman reckoned, now more confused than ever. Suddenly, a dangerous theory formed in Sendai’s mind as he ran toward the Wolfen. No, he thought as the idea burned like a hot coal in the back of his mind, it was unthinkable. So unthinkable that it just might be the truth. Unfortunately, the only way to test Sendai’s theory required a slight gamble with his best friend’s life.
Half a moment before their swords met, Sendai made his decision. As his scimitar cut through the air, the Metecian stayed his blade for just an instant, allowing the Ninja’s sword to deflect it en route to Patrick’s exposed windpipe. Time slowed as Sendai hit the ground beside his friend, watching with desperate hope that his hunch was correct. . .
The answer came when the Ninja’s blade halted just before connecting with Patrick’s exposed flesh.
Sendai had just enough time to exhale in relief before the thief was on them again, furiously, grabbing Patrick by the collar and smashing his forehead into the poor Wolfen’s nose.
As Patrick fell back unconscious, Sendai got to his feet and greeted the masked man’s blade, smiling like an explorer stepping onto the shores of a new world. “I knew it!” he declared. “There’s honor in your blade.”
The Ninja swung again, but Sendai threw off the half-hearted advance with the clang of his scimitar. “I’ve heard stories of a vandal laying waste to entire regiments,” he continued, “killing men in their sleep. They’re untrue, aren’t they?”
The Ninja struck at Sendai’s steel again, his anger rising with each blow as the fight moved to the edge of the cliff by their pitched camp.
“Still,” Sendai continued, looking the Ninja over like a scholar studying an ancient text, “there’s something about you I can’t put my finger on.”
The two warriors moved so close to the edge of the drop off they kicked dust over the side with each step. Every block and jab drew Sendai closer to discovering the secret the Ninja struggled so desperately to keep. “You may be a thief,” he proceeded as their swords buzzed like angry hornets, “but you are no vandal.” Finally, a certain bend in the thief’s hip put all of the pieces together. . . .
When the Ninja saw the knowing look cross Sendai’s eye, he grew more desperate with each strike until the parrying reached a crescendo, sending one final reckless swing toward his opponent. Sendai easily caught the blade with the hilt of his sword, bringing the Ninja’s weight through his center of gravity and throwing him off balance.
With a clatter, Sendai pinned his opponent against a nearby rock and sandwiched their blades between their chests. Breathing heavily, Sendai moved in, inches from the Ninja’s face and whispered, “You are no liar. You are no murderer. What else are you pretending to be?”
The Ninja pushed back and swung once again. Effortlessly, Sendai slipped his sword down the edge of the thief’s steel, forcing it into the rocks. For the first time since their blades met, the Ninja pulled a desperate and dishonorable move. A hidden blade appeared from the toe of his shoe seconds before he snapped a kick toward Sendai’s ribs. As if Sendai could smell it coming, he stepped back, caught the Ninja’s ankle with the back of his sword, and forced him to his knee. Using his hip as a lever, Sendai pried his adversary’s sword from his hand and pinned his arms behind his back. The Ninja tensed and relaxed, knowing he was helpless.
“A-ha!” Patrick exclaimed as he arrived with sword in hand. “Sendai, my be-goggled friend! You see?” he announced, pointing an accusing finger at the Ninja, “nobody puts Sir Patrick of Wolfwater on his back four times in a row and gets away with it!” Patrick looked to Sendai and calmed himself when he saw his friend�
��s mellow barring. He cleared his throat, and continued, “Or, you know, nice work.”
After giving Patrick a moment to catch his breath, Sendai leaned forward and whispered in the Ninja’s ear. “You didn’t kill Patrick because you saw honor in him,” he said in a calming voice. “I didn’t kill you for the same reason. You’re not here for greed. So tell me, why are you here?”
Even at the swordsman’s mercy, the Ninja remained silent.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Sendai said as he straightened up. “Maybe we should let Captain Ping torture the answers out of you?”
“Please,” Patrick and Sendai’s ears perked as a desperate whisper, soft and small as a field mouse, drifted from beneath the Ninja’s cowl. “You’re ‘The Great Sendai,’ no?” The thief asked, “You give mercy to those who request it?”
“You’ve had your mercy, child,” Sendai responded in the tone of a nurturing father.
“Child?” Patrick asked, confused. “What’s going on?
It may have taken longer than usual for Sendai to find his answer but in the end, his sword was never wrong. Sendai pulled the Ninja’s hood in one quick motion and watched a look of horror form in Patrick’s eyes.
“By the Ancient Ones,” the Wolfen whispered, both offended and surprised.
At Sendai’s feet, the dark, confident eyes of a young, angry, and beautiful woman stared back at them. “You’re wrong, Sendai,” she said, responding to his remark, “mercy is why I’m here.
To be continued…
PART II PREVIEW
As the thoughts of his father consumed Ichi, Toji suddenly lifted a hand and stopped the brothers’ advance. Ichi held his breath as the sounds of the forest rose, soft and sure, like children playing in the distance. Ichi watched Toji closely as his brother’s ears took in every note offered by the timberland.
After the forest began to shift, accepting the presence of the three brothers into its harmony, Toji’s brow twitched. “There,” he whispered.
“What is it?” Ichi asked as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
“A small, inhaled breath,” Toji continued, “just deliberate enough to—” Instantly, Toji’s sword rang from his scabbard, followed closely by his brothers’.
“Him?” Ichi pressed, eager to meet this thief.
“Someone,” Toji teased, unsure, as the brothers instinctively formed a circle, back-to back.
Ozo bent his knees and dug the ball of his foot into the soft earth. “He’s not on the ground,” the young samurai reported.
“Not to worry,” Ichi assured him, “he can’t hold his breath forever.”
Part II out on February 24th!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Parkin has been a writer and screenwriter for ten years. His graphic novel, The Devil is Due in Dreary was named by Crave Online as one of the top twenty comic books of the year in 2015 and is currently in development as a major motion picture. He has film and TV projects in various stages of development for many Hollywood production companies including Fox Television and Disney. He is also a writer and co-host for the fiction and audio drama podcast, The Junto Presents, available on iTunes and Stitcher.
Dave lives in Los Angeles, California with his lovely wife and two rambunctious sons. He enjoys old movies, old music, old cars, and old friends.
For more information:
@thatdaveparkin
ThatDaveParkin
www.daveparkin.com
Dave@Daveparkin.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Mom for being my mom, Robert J. Gibbs, Megan Harvey and Brett Harvey for their assistance, Mary Cybriwsky for her endless support, Luke and Junior for their adorable distractions, Jeff and Kelley for their siblingness, the in-laws and the outlaws for their love and support, Editorial Services of Los Angeles for their expert work, Danny Haas and Rachel Everett for being beautiful people who make beautiful art, and my lovely wife Rachel for being the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and for being my biggest (and often my only) fan.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Part 1: Enter the Ninja
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Part II Preview
About the Author
Acknowledgments