by Unknown
‘Go!’ ordered Masamoto, attacking the seemingly indestructible samurai with vengeful fury.
Jack ran over to Yamato. Removing the spear, he helped him to his feet and they staggered towards the gate. Behind them, hundreds more Red Devils stormed up the road. Akiko and Sensei Yosa launched arrow after arrow, trying to stall the enemy’s advance.
Masamoto, disarming the Red Devil with a lightning fast Autumn Leaf strike, thrust his wakizashi into the samurai’s gut. The Red Devil groaned and fell to his knees.
‘That’s for my son!’ declared Masamoto.
He then brought his katana slicing across, decapitating the gold-horned Red Devil. The man’s head fell from his shoulders and bounced down the road.
‘And that’s for Taro!’
As soon as Masamoto was inside the inner courtyard, the guards slammed the gates shut against the Red Devil horde. The enemy hammered against the other side, but the reinforced doors held. For the time being at least.
Jack laid Yamato on the ground. Akiko knelt beside him, her face etched with worry.
‘I’m fine,’ wheezed Yamato. ‘It’s not deep.’
Akiko gently rolled him to one side to inspect the wound.
‘How is he?’ asked Masamoto, standing over them.
‘He’s bleeding badly, but his armour’s taken the brunt of the blow.’
‘Can you stand?’ asked Masamoto of his son.
Yamato nodded.
‘Good,’ said Masamoto. ‘Take him to the keep and get him bandaged up.’
Even now, Masamoto’s austerity prevented him showing the love and approval Yamato desperately needed. Jack realized his guardian probably thought it a sign of weakness to display any emotion in front of his students. But Jack saw how Yamato’s head dropped when there was no recognition of his valour in saving Cho.
Taking Yamato by the arm, Jack and Akiko helped him across the courtyard.
‘Thanks… for saving… me,’ said Yamato between spasms of pain. ‘I owe you both my life.’
‘It’s Akiko we should be thanking,’ replied Jack. ‘If it wasn’t for her archery skills, we’d both be dead by now.’
‘It was a terrible shot,’ said Akiko.
‘What do you mean?’ exclaimed Jack. ‘You got him straight through his left eye!’
‘I was aiming for his right.’
The three of them burst into laughter.
‘Stop it,’ groaned Yamato. ‘It hurts to laugh.’
Inside the keep, ashigaru rushed past, ferrying arquebuses and gunpowder to the troops on the inner walls. The three of them headed up the stairs to the second floor. Daimyo Takatomi was there, giving orders to the surviving generals. He broke away from the group as soon as he saw that Masamoto’s son was wounded.
‘Take Yamato-kun to my quarters immediately. He can use my personal physician.’
As they climbed the stairs to the sixth floor, the sound of cannonfire appeared to be getting closer. Through a window on the fourth floor, Jack glimpsed the battle outside. Daimyo Kamakura’s troops were closing in on all sides, sending flaming arrows over the walls. Satoshi’s forces, however, were still keeping them at bay with a constant barrage of musket fire and arrows.
Passing the fifth floor, Yamato stopped.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Jack.
Nodding, Yamato whispered, ‘Look! Father Bobadillo’s door is open.’
Down the corridor, the wood-panelled walls of the priest’s study were visible, an oil lamp flickering in one corner.
‘This could be your only chance,’ said Yamato, looking meaningfully at Jack.
‘But what about you?’
‘I’ll be fine with Akiko’s help,’ he said, taking his arm off Jack’s shoulder. ‘Just find your father’s rutter.’
52
DIVINE JUSTICE
Jack crept towards Father Bobadillo’s study. Despite the raging battle outside, the corridor was eerily deserted. Most of the guards were engaged in fighting on the battlements. Standing to one side of the door frame, Jack peeked in and immediately drew his head back.
Father Bobadillo was in the room.
But he had his back to the door.
Jack risked another look. The priest was frantically emptying the most precious contents of his casket into a bag. Moving to the recess, he pulled the books off the shelf and slid open a hidden compartment in the wall.
Jack almost gasped aloud. This had to be where he kept the rutter.
But Father Bobadillo only palmed more jewels and silver coins into his bag. Shouldering his booty, the priest hurried towards the prayer room.
Jack was about to follow, when Father Bobadillo suddenly stopped as if he’d forgotten something. Turning, he considered the oil painting of St Ignatius.
Surely he isn’t thinking of taking that, thought Jack.
But the priest returned and lifted it off the wall. Putting the portrait to one side, he pressed one of the wooden panels and there was a soft click.
Behind the painting lay another secret compartment.
Father Bobadillo reached inside and pulled out the rutter, still wrapped in its protective oilskin.
Jack, stunned to actually see it again, couldn’t contain his anger at the priest.
‘So it was you!’ said Jack, stepping into the room and drawing his sword. ‘You stole the rutter! You murdered my father!’
Father Bobadillo spun round, the momentary shock on his face quickly replaced by a sneer.
‘I stole nothing,’ he replied, ignoring the threat the sword posed. ‘I only took back what was rightfully ours.’
The priest calmly settled into his high-backed chair and eyed Jack.
‘This rutter is the property of Portugal,’ he said, placing the logbook on the table. ‘Before your father acquired it by ill means, it belonged to a Portuguese pilot. Your father was not only a Protestant heretic, he was a thief.’
‘You lie!’ shouted Jack, his outstretched blade quivering with fury at the accusation.
‘Have you never questioned how your father, an Englishman, came by such vast knowledge of the oceans?’ said the priest, laying his hands in his lap.
Jack faltered, unable to answer the priest’s question.
‘Let me enlighten you. Your father was a pirate. He plundered the seas and stole our rutter. I didn’t kill your father. He condemned himself. I was merely administering justice on behalf of my country. Having dared sail to the Japans, I thought it fitting his executioner should be a ninja.’
Jack didn’t know what to think. Father Bobadillo must be lying, but the priest had sown a seed of doubt in his mind. His father had never spoken of how he’d come by the rutter. He’d just said the logbook was obtained at great cost to life and limb. Jack had assumed he was referring to the dangers of exploration, not piracy. Anyway, he couldn’t remember a time when his father hadn’t possessed the rutter. It had to be his father’s.
At the same time, he knew the logbook contained more information than one man could obtain during a lifetime at sea. It even detailed the Pacific Ocean where his father had never sailed before. The more Jack thought about it, the more questions were raised.
‘So what are you going to do, young samurai? Cut me in half?’ said Father Bobadillo, enjoying the play of emotions and doubt on Jack’s face.
As Jack lowered his sword, the priest smiled cruelly.
‘Or perhaps I should try you for treason. Charge – attempted murder. Verdict – guilty. Sentence – death.’
Father Bobadillo rose from his seat, a wheel-lock pistol in his hand.
He aimed the gun at Jack’s heart.
‘Even a samurai can’t avoid a bullet.’
53
SHADOW WARRIOR
Jack tensed but the shot never came.
Father Bobadillo was staring past him, an eyebrow raised in surprise.
‘I was just about to do your job,’ he said disdainfully, lowering the gun. ‘But now you’re here, you can finish what I paid you t
o do.’
Dragon Eye slipped from the shadows.
Jack felt an icy slither of fear run down his spine. He was trapped between his two worst enemies. Knowing the pain Dragon Eye could inflict upon him, he now wished Father Bobadillo had shot him.
‘So the rutter has been decoded. Entirely?’ enquired the ninja.
‘Of course! I wouldn’t have ordered you to kill the boy otherwise.’
Father Bobadillo rolled his eyes in exasperation.
‘Good,’ replied Dragon Eye.
Ignoring Jack, the ninja approached Father Bobadillo.
‘Then I’ll take the rutter,’ he stated, holding out his hand.
‘What?’ exclaimed Father Bobadillo, his manner now indignant. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
The ninja gave a single shake of his head. ‘Daimyo Kamakura has need of it.’
‘But you stole it for me,’ snarled Father Bobadillo.
‘Now I’m stealing it back,’ replied Dragon Eye.
Jack glared at the priest. The man must have been lying about his father. The real thief was Father Bobadillo.
‘You can’t. It’s mine. I paid you for it,’ he protested. Then, pointing an accusative finger at Dokugan Ryu, he growled, ‘I also paid you to kill the boy.’
Jack could see Father Bobadillo was trying to regain control of the situation by diverting the ninja’s attention from the rutter back to him.
‘His time will come,’ replied Dragon Eye, giving Jack a cursory glance. ‘But not before yours.’
The ninja took a step towards the priest. Jack couldn’t believe it. The assassin had turned on his paymaster.
‘Stop,’ exclaimed Father Bobadillo, his eyes widening in terror. ‘I’ll give you whatever you want. Money, jewels, guns…’
The priest threw his shoulder bag on the table, its contents scattering across the surface. Glittering gemstones and silver coins cascaded to the floor.
Dragon Eye shook his head in disgust, unmoved by the priest’s pleas.
‘Daimyo Kamakura is offering far more than you, a pitiful excuse for a priest, could ever give me.’
‘Whatever it is, I’ll double it, treble it,’ said Father Bobadillo in desperation.
‘Highly unlikely, considering you’re on the losing side,’ sneered Dragon Eye. ‘He’s promising me Yamagata Castle and a return to power.’
Jack’s mind flashed back to the old woman’s story in the temple.
‘So you are Hattori Tatsuo?’ he breathed.
Dragon Eye’s head snapped round, his single green eye boring into Jack.
‘You really should be a ninja!’ he hissed. ‘I need a spy like you.’
‘But… but Masamoto-sama chopped your head off!’ stuttered Jack, staring at Dokugan Ryu in disbelief.
‘Yes, he did,’ laughed Dragon Eye cruelly. ‘At least, he thought he did. That murdering samurai actually killed my shadow.’
‘Your shadow?’ said Jack, utterly bemused.
‘A kagemusha. A Shadow Warrior,’ explained Dragon Eye, humouring him. ‘I came across a man who looked identical to me. Apart from having two eyes, of course. But I soon remedied that. He was more than willing to become my shadow in return for sparing the lives of his family. So you see, your almighty Masamoto actually killed an innocent man.’
Jack was astounded at the ninja’s cunning and cold-blooded nature.
‘Clever, but ultimately futile,’ sneered Father Bobadillo, now aiming the gun at Dragon Eye.
As he fired, the ninja instinctively leapt aside.
The bullet cracked into the wooden panel behind.
Dragon Eye charged at Father Bobadillo, striking him with the tips of his fingers in rapid succession. The priest’s face froze into an expression of total panic, his eyes rolling in their sockets. He was completely paralysed.
‘Samurai might not be able to avoid bullets, but ninja can,’ whispered Dragon Eye into his victim’s ear.
Father Bobadillo was now juddering slightly, a wet choking sound issuing from his lips. His breath rattled in his chest and his skin burst out in red patches.
‘You no doubt recognize these symptoms, gaijin.’
Dim Mak. Jack wouldn’t wish the Death Touch on anyone, even his worst enemy. In a previous encounter with Dragon Eye, Jack had personally experienced its crushing agony. The burning sensation that grew like a forest fire in the veins. The feeling of the heart trying to punch its way through flesh and bone. The tight constricting suffocation as the lungs began to fail. The pressure building and building until eventually the victim’s heart burst within his chest.
‘Unlike you, I doubt he’ll survive,’ said Dragon Eye, lifting up Father Bobadillo’s lolling head by the hair.
The priest’s eyes were now bulbous and streaked dark red.
Jack heard a distant pop like a stone being thrown into a pond. A moment later, blood spewed out of the Jesuit’s mouth.
Father Bobadillo crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.
Sickened by his enemy’s gruesome death, Jack forced himself to act, before he became the ninja’s next victim. Snatching the rutter from the table, he sprinted out of the study into the prayer room.
To his right was the closed shoji, while to his left the door beside the altar was open.
With Dragon Eye hot on his heels, he fled through the open door.
Entering a deserted corridor, Jack realized he’d discovered Father Bobadillo’s private access to his lordship Satoshi. The floor was laid with fine tatami mats and the walls richly decorated. This section was also isolated from the rest of the keep, with only a flight of stairs leading upwards.
Dashing up the staircase, Jack could hear the soft pad of the ninja’s footsteps closing in on him.
54
REVENGE
Cannonshot shrieked through the air and fireballs whizzed by, almost scorching Jack’s skin as he stood upon the balcony overlooking all of Osaka. On any other day the view from the top tower would have been magnificent, reaching far beyond the city, over the Tenno-ji Plain to the sparkling ocean itself.
But on this night, all Jack could see was devastation and destruction. Fires raged throughout the castle compounds. Bodies littered the burning ramparts. The enemy swarmed over broken battlements, firing cannon and arquebuses at the stronghold of the keep. Below, the Red Devils had smashed their way through the last gateway into the inner courtyard. They were now engaged in brutal hand-to-hand combat, as Satoshi’s troops made their final stand.
By contrast, the private meeting chamber on the donjon’s eighth floor was a haven of peace. The room, lit by elegant free-standing oil lamps, was exquisitely decorated in gold leaf and framed by dark wooden beams. A mural of samurai lords adorned the walls, showing them hunting, meditating and enjoying tea beneath leafy green trees, all scenes recalling a more harmonious episode in Japanese life.
When Jack had reached Satoshi’s personal chamber on the seventh floor, he’d discovered the ruler-in-waiting and all his retainers dead. There had been no sign of a struggle, but the tatami was soaked through with their blood and beside each of them lay a wakizashi. Realizing his forces faced defeat, Satoshi had taken the only honourable course of action available to a vanquished samurai lord. He’d committed seppuku. Bound by duty, his retainers had followed him into death, ritually disembowelling themselves with their own swords.
‘Your time has come,’ said Dragon Eye, appearing in the chamber behind Jack. ‘Hand over the rutter.’
‘No!’ said Jack, defiantly slipping the logbook into his pack.
‘I don’t intend to disappoint daimyo Kamakura. Give it to me now!’
‘If you really are Tatsuo,’ challenged Jack, ‘why are you helping daimyo Kamakura? He betrayed you at Nakasendo.’
‘It’s a decision he regrets,’ replied Dragon Eye gravely. ‘But he’s made amends by waging war for me.’
‘For you?’ exclaimed Jack in astonishment.
Dragon Eye gave a self-satisfied nod.
‘But this war’s about expelling Christians and foreigners from Japan.’
‘For daimyo Kamakura it is,’ replied Dragon Eye. ‘For me, it is about revenge.’
‘Against whom?’
‘Masamoto,’ said the ninja, spitting the name with venom.
‘You must be mad!’ said Jack, stunned by the revelation. ‘You’ve dragged Japan into civil war for a personal vendetta?’
‘THAT SAMURAI KILLED MY SON!’ shouted Dragon Eye, his icy calm demeanour breaking for the first time.
‘And you murdered his son, Tenno!’ shot back Jack.
‘An eye for an eye,’ replied the ninja, regaining his composure. ‘But that’s not nearly enough. His lord, his family, his beloved school, his entire samurai way of life must be destroyed. I won’t kill him, though. Masamoto must suffer the torment I’ve had to endure all these years. He’ll spend the rest of his life grieving for all that he’s lost. And I will finally have my revenge.’
Jack realized Sensei Yamada had been right that time in the Zen garden two years ago when he’d told him that revenge was self-defeating. It had eaten away at the ninja until there was nothing left – but hate.
‘Now give me the rutter,’ demanded Dragon Eye.
‘Never!’ said Jack, reaching for his swords.
He’d decided to take a stand. There would be no more running. No more hiding. It was indeed his time. Jack was ready to face his nemesis, once and for all.
‘I’ve no quarrel with you, gaijin,’ said the ninja, all of a sudden changing tack. ‘In fact, I’ve come to admire you. So I’ll give you one last chance. Hand over the rutter and I’ll let you live.’
In spite of the proposal, Dragon Eye still unsheathed a fearsome ninjatō from the saya upon his back.
Kuro Kumo.
Black Cloud. The last and greatest sword to be forged by Kunitome. The steel shimmered in the reflected light of the castle’s fires, the hamon on its blade swirling like a thunderstorm of clouds.
‘My final offer,’ he growled. ‘Join me. I’ll teach you the Way of the Ninja.’