The Ring of Earth - Chris Bradford [20]
But Jack soon discovered his chosen route wouldn’t be easy. The rivers cutting down through the mountain range didn’t allow for straight lines. Sometimes impassable gorges forced him to turn back altogether, then valleys bent his path the wrong way and, to add to the confusion, the thick forest canopy diffused the sun so it became impossible to judge his direction.
It was mid-morning when Jack spotted footprints. They were fresh.
Jack looked fearfully around at the trees and bushes. He knew the woods not only harboured ninja and samurai patrols, but mountain bandits too. In spite of his tiredness, the threat sharpened his senses and he noticed something odd about the prints. No Japanese had feet that big. It was then that Jack realized they were his footprints. He was going round in circles.
Cursing, Jack kicked a tree in frustration. He was well and truly lost.
He decided he’d just have to follow a river valley until he came across a well-used track, and take his chances. Half a mile down he stumbled on to just such a path. Jack almost laughed out loud with relief. Either direction looked as promising as the other, so Jack threw a forked stick into the air and left the decision to chance.
Fate sent him right.
He’d only taken a few paces when someone seized him from behind and dragged him into the undergrowth. Before he had a chance to react, Miyuki had him pinned to the ground, a knife to his throat.
‘Let me go!’ protested Jack.
‘Be quiet!’ she hissed. ‘Or I’ll slit your throat.’
The sound of footsteps could be heard. Miyuki pressed closer to Jack, pulling the undergrowth around them.
‘I don’t like it in this forest,’ said a man’s voice.
‘Scared of ghosts?’ taunted another.
Through a small gap in the bushes, Jack saw a patrol of four samurai come into view.
‘Yes. There are bad spirits in these trees. Shadow warriors. People disappear.’
‘There are bandits too,’ piped up the smallest of the samurai, glancing around nervously.
‘The sooner that gaijin is caught, the better. What’s so special about this one, anyway?’
‘The Shogun wants him. He’s a samurai. Fought for the other side.’
‘Don’t make me laugh. A gaijin samurai!’
‘I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. He knows the Two Heavens.’
‘If you believe that, then you’ll believe anything!’
When the samurai had gone, Miyuki retracted her blade and let Jack go.
‘Have you been following me all this time?’ he demanded.
‘It’s not hard,’ she replied. ‘An elephant leaves a smaller trail than you.’
‘But why save me?’
‘I didn’t. Soke ordered me to bring you back. Alive.’
12
A FROG IN A WELL
‘A host doesn’t paralyse their guest with Dim Mak!’ protested Jack, who once again found himself in Soke’s house.
When Miyuki had first tried to escort him back to the village, he’d run. But the ninja girl moved so effortlessly through the forest, she soon caught up. They’d fought hand-to-hand, matched in skill. He’d pulled his knife, but she disarmed him with alarming speed. Jack was convinced only his fatigue allowed Miyuki to beat him. Binding his hands and hobbling his feet, she’d dragged him home like a wild dog.
‘My apologies,’ Soke replied, offering him some sencha, ‘but you left me no option. Now we can talk sensibly.’
Jack took the tea, but didn’t drink it. The ninja were masters of dokujutsu, the Art of Poison.
Soke poured himself some tea, returned the kettle to the pot hook and took an appreciative sip. ‘Ahhh, a perfect brew! Now, as I was saying, we’re your friend, not your enemy.’
‘No ninja can ever be a friend of a samurai. And I feel the same,’ Jack replied. ‘The ninja Dragon Eye murdered my father. Yamato, who was like a brother to me, sacrificed his life because of that assassin. Ninja will always be my enemy.’
Soke bowed his head low, his eyes full of grief. ‘I’m truly sorry for your father and dear friend, and I can understand why you must hate us. But a frog in a well does not know the great sea.’
Jack stared blankly at Soke, bewildered by the man’s bizarre