The Way Of The Sword (33 page)

The sword was truly the soul of a samurai.

The crowd opened out to allow Masamoto and Sensei Hosokawa through.

‘A masterful ruse, Jack-kun. You had me fooled,’ commended Masamoto. ‘If you cannot defeat your opponent physically, then you have to trick his mind. You have
earned
my respect.’

‘I understand, Masamoto-sama,’ replied Jack, bowing, and thanking God that he’d been forgiven for his lie over the
rutter
.

When he looked up again, Sensei Hosokawa stood before him. His sharp eyes studied Jack as he pulled pensively at the sharp stub of his beard. Then his sword master grinned, broad and proud.

‘Jack-kun, you are ready. You’ve proved to me you truly comprehend the Way of the Sword.’

The night was unduly warm and the room airless, making Jack sweat uncomfortably as his hand fumbled in the darkness for his father’s
rutter
.

The high floating sound of a bamboo flute entwined with the vibrating plucking of a
shamisen
could be heard from the distant Grand Chamber of
daimyo
Takatomo’s palace, where everyone was gathered to celebrate the completion of the Circle of Three.

‘It’s not here!’ said Jack, a note of panic entering his voice.

‘Are you sure?’ queried Yamato.

‘Yes. I left it on the upper ledge,’ Jack insisted, as he emerged from behind the silk white crane that hung upon the wall of the reception room, ‘but it’s gone.’

‘Let me look,’ offered Akiko. She stepped on to the cedar dais and peered into the bolt-hole.

The three of them had slipped out of the celebrations, having left Saburo and Kiku to look after Yori. Their intention had been to retrieve the
rutter
and return before anyone noticed their absence. Masamoto, now aware of the logbook, had asked to see it for himself, requesting that Jack bring it to him the following morning. Jack had agreed, though he hadn’t revealed its location in case he further angered the samurai.

But it appeared they were too late. Dragon Eye had already stolen it.

‘How could he have got into a ninja-proof castle?’ despaired Jack, slumping to the floor.

‘Jack!’

Jack was vaguely aware that Akiko was waving something in front of his face.

‘Is this what you were looking for?’ She smiled, brandishing the oilskin-covered
rutter
in her hand, and placed it in his lap. ‘It had just fallen on the floor.’

‘You are…’ began Jack, but he didn’t quite know how to express his relief and joy to Akiko.

The music in the Great Chamber came to an end and in the lull a bird could be heard singing.

A nightingale.

The grin on Jack’s face faded as he remembered
daimyo
Takatomi’s unique alarm system built into the floorboards.

His growing look of horror was mirrored by both Akiko and Yamato.

Someone was coming.

‘Quick! Hide the
rutter
,’ instructed Akiko.

The Nightingale Floor sang with each approaching footstep.

Jack had no choice. He replaced the logbook on the upper ledge and let the wall hanging fall back into place.

Outside the noise of the floorboards ceased.

The stranger was at the
shoji
door.

They looked at one another. What should they do? If it was a guard, they could they pretend they were lost; but if it wasn’t, shouldn’t they be getting ready to fight?

The
shoji
slid open.

A figure knelt before them, silhouetted in the corridor, the face veiled in shadow.

No one moved.

Jack noticed the wall hanging was still swinging slightly and desperately willed it to stop.

The figure bowed and stood.

A beautiful woman in a jade-green kimono, her long hair twirled high upon her head and fastened with an ornate hairpin, glided into the room.

‘The
daimyo
thought you might like some refreshments for your private party,’ the woman said softly, putting a small tray with a teapot and four china cups down on the
tatami
.

She indicated for them to sit.

Bewildered, yet somewhat relieved, the three of them did as they were told. Jack watched the serving woman pour out three cups of
sencha
. She smiled kindly, offering Jack the first drink; her eyes, shiny as black pearls, never leaving his face.

Jack waited for the others to be served before drinking.

The Nightingale Floor sang again and everyone froze.

The woman slipped a fan from her
obi
, flicking open its black metal spine to reveal an exquisite handpainted design of a green dragon entwined in misty mountains.

‘It is rather warm,’ she commented, fluttering the fan in front of her face. ‘You must be thirsty.’

Jack, his mouth dry with dread at the approach of a second visitor, raised the cup to his lips.

The
shoji
slid open a second time and Emi entered.

‘My father was wondering where you all were,’ she said, her expression rather indignant at not having been invited to their private gathering. ‘He wants to… Who are
you
?’

Emi stared at the serving woman. ‘You don’t work here.’

Before anyone could react, the woman flung her tray at Emi, spilling the tea across the floor. The tray went spinning through the air like a large square
shuriken
and struck Emi in the neck. She collapsed to the ground, knocked unconscious.

‘Kunoichi!’
screamed Akiko, rolling away from the imposter.

‘Don’t drink it, Jack!’ Yamato cried as he slapped the cup from his hands. ‘Poison!’

Momentarily stunned, Jack could only stare at the
tatami
, which gave off tiny wafts of acrid smoke where the tea had been spilt.

‘Ninja?’ said Jack in disbelief, looking up at the beautiful woman before him. He’d thought only men were ninja.

The female ninja snapped her dragon fan shut and brought its hardened metal spine down on to Jack’s head like a hammer. Yamato threw himself in front of Jack, shoving his friend out of harm’s way, but the iron tip of the fan caught Yamato on the temple. He went down and stayed down.

Flipping to her feet, the
kunoichi
leapt over the prone body of Yamato and advanced on Jack. As she raised her hand to strike a second time, Akiko crescent-kicked the iron fan from the woman’s grasp.

The ninja immediately retaliated with a devastating sidekick to Akiko’s stomach, sending her flying across the room.

In that brief moment of distraction, Jack managed to scramble to his feet. Seeing his friends lying injured around him, his fury fuelled his strength as he went on the attack.

The female ninja retreated before Jack’s spinning-hook kick. She ducked while putting a hand to her head. Her hair cascaded down her back in a billowing black cloud and a bolt of lightning flashed out, straight towards Jack’s right eye.

Jack staggered backwards to avoid the sharpened hairpin, its glinting point flying past his eyeball.

She stabbed at his face a second time, but was way off target.

Jack watched as the steel pin passed to his left and suddenly Sensei Kano’s lesson ‘learn to fight without eyes’ came to mind. His eyes had instinctively followed the gleaming weapon, but the wild slash of the ninja had been a distraction tactic.

When he turned back to face her, she held an open palm to her mouth and blew a cloud of glittering black dust into his eyes.

Stung with a combination of sand, sawdust and pepper, tears streamed down Jack’s face.

His whole world went dark.

Jack had been blinded.

‘Akiko! I can’t see!’

She dived across to protect him, and Jack heard the swish of the hairpin and the dull thud of arms colliding as Akiko blocked another of the
kunoichi’
s attacks. Jack thought he recognized the noise of Akiko retaliating with a front kick, for he heard the woman stumble away, groaning as if winded.

His eyes watered like acrid geysers and he had to screw them up against the pain. Without his sight, he could only follow the sounds of Akiko battling the
kunoichi
in the far corner of the room.

‘Watch out!’ cried Akiko.

Jack threw up his guard, blindly trying to make contact and use his
chi sao
skills, but the
kunoichi
evaded him. Focusing on the sound of her ragged breathing, Jack pinpointed where she’d moved to, but Akiko jumped between them to intercept an unseen strike from the ninja. Now Jack couldn’t attack in case he hit Akiko instead.

Behind him, he thought he caught the sound of a soft rustle from the silk wall hanging and the soft pad of a foot. Then Jack sensed the cedar dais upon which he stood give ever so slightly under someone else’s weight.

Jack spun round, keeping his guard up to protect his face.

His arms collided with a fist that had been aimed directly at the back of his head. Allowing his
chi sao
training to take over, Jack followed the curvature of his attacker’s arm and speared his fingers at the throat. His thrust was brushed aside with a countering block and strike. Instantaneously, Jack felt the trajectory of the counter and deflected it with an inner block, rolling his arm over his attacker’s and back-fisting his opponent in the face.

He caught his assailant hard on the jaw.

The contact was solid and jarring, but his opponent only laughed, a cold jagged cackle like a rusty broken saw catching in wood.

Jack lost contact, his attacker retreating out of reach.

‘Impressive,
gaijin
,’ hissed Dokugan Ryu, ‘but even more impressive that you’re still alive. You should be a ninja, not a samurai!’

Jack’s heart gave an aching throb. The proximity of Dragon Eye made his whole body contract, his lungs tighten.

‘I’m not scared of you,’ said Jack, with as much bravado as he could muster.

‘Of course you are,’ countered Dragon Eye, circling him slowly. ‘I’m the pain that seeps into your bones at night. The scalding fire that burns in your blood. Your worst nightmare. Your father’s murderer!’

Dragon Eye struck with such swiftness that Jack was caught off-guard. The ninja hit a point at the base of his shoulder and a sickening flare of pain rocketed down his right arm. Jack reeled backwards, gasping for breath, feeling as if his arm had been thrust into a white-hot fire.

‘But I’m wasting my time here,’ spat the ninja, as if bored with torturing his victim. ‘I have what I came for.’

Through the agony, Jack was vaguely aware he could see shapes, dark shadows against a grey mist. The pain focused his mind and his vision was clearing.

‘Sasori, stop teasing the girl!’ ordered Dragon Eye. ‘Kill her, then kill the
gaijin
.’

Jack blinked away his tears, catching the vague outline to his left of the hooded ninja against a misty-looking wall.

‘Don’t disappoint me again,
gaijin
. Stay dead this time.’

Hearing exactly where the ninja was, Jack launched a hook kick at his enemy’s head.

His foot passed clean through thin air.

Dragon Eye had disappeared.

A soft exhalation escaped from someone’s lips and the next thing Jack heard was a body crumple to the floor.

‘Akiko!’ exclaimed Jack.

No answer.

‘Akiko?’ repeated Jack, now afraid for her.

‘Your pretty little girlfriend’s dead,
gaijin
,’ smirked the
kunoichi
. ‘I sank my poisoned pin into her pretty little neck.’

A coldness crept into Jack’s heart, more agonizing than any torture Dragon Eye could inflict upon him.

Jack flew at Akiko’s murderer. He didn’t care any more; he no longer thought about what he was doing. He just struck.

The
kunoichi
struggled against his impassioned onslaught.

Blow after blow rained down upon the ninja.

Jack’s forearm slammed into her guard and the
kunoichi
lost her grip on the deadly hairpin, sending it flying across the room.

He drove in harder. The ninja began to buckle under the pressure. Jack then sidekicked her with all his might, catching the
kunoichi
full force in the chest. The ninja fell backwards, landing hard on the dais, and screamed.

‘Come on!’ Jack roared, his eyes wet with stinging tears, no longer caused by the blinding powder, but by the grief in his heart.

But there was no response.

Jack wiped at his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could just about see again.

The
kunoichi
lay unmoving in a heap on the dais.

He couldn’t have kicked her that hard, thought Jack, not enough to kill her.

He took a cautious step closer and tapped her leg with his foot. There was no reaction. The woman’s black eyes were dull and lifeless, their pearl-like shine gone.

Jack rolled her over.

The ninja’s ornate steel hairpin protruded out of her back like the barb of a scorpion. Killed by her own poison.

Sasori
, thought Jack numbly, Dragon Eye had called her
Sasori
.

Scorpion.

As much as he tried to deny it, his dream had come to be.

Four scorpions.

Kazuki’s gang. The Spirit challenge. The warrior. The
kunoichi
.

Four meant death. But it had not been his own that the dream had foretold. It had been Akiko’s.

Jack sank to his knees, barely taking in the devastation of the reception room. Yamato was slowly coming to among the broken shards of teacups. Emi still hadn’t moved, her neck bruised and swollen, though Jack could see that she was breathing.

The hanging of the white crane had been ripped from the wall and the bolt-hole gaped open, black and empty like the socket of a skull.

Dragon Eye had the
rutter
.

Jack crawled over to Akiko.

She lay utterly still upon the
tatami
, a small prick of blood on her neck where the hairpin had entered. Jack, sobbing in great breaths of anguish, cradled her lifeless body in his arms.