The Ring of Earth - Chris Bradford [7]
It was clearly designed for large prey, like a deer … or a man.
That meant bandits. The alternative was ninja and that didn’t bear thinking about. Whoever had set the trap, there was little point in crying out for help. He’d not only attract bandits or ninja, but the samurai who were no doubt still looking for him.
Jack had to free himself before the trapper returned. Stretching out his hand, he extended his fingers in desperation towards his katana. He attempted to swing himself closer. But it was no use. The sword remained tantalizingly out of reach.
Straining against his own body, he now tried to grasp the rope round his ankle. But having hung upside down for so long, his limbs had gone numb. With immense effort, he managed to grab hold of the knot. Jack took one look at it and cursed. Having been a sailor, he recognized a self-tightening knot when he saw one. Jack had little chance of undoing it with his whole body weight pulling down on the binding.
He’d have to climb the rope.
As Jack struggled to pull himself upright, he heard a rustle in the bushes. He froze, hunting for the source of the sound.
A squirrel bolted from the undergrowth and up a nearby tree.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack continued with his escape attempt. Then his heart stopped in his mouth as he heard another rustle, closer this time.
Someone was approaching.
In the twilight, a young boy entered the clearing. Jack guessed he was about ten years old, the same age as his sister. Dressed in a plain earth-brown kimono, he had short dark hair tied into a topknot. For a moment, they both stared at one another. The boy’s eyes, as black as Akiko’s pearl, showed no fear. Jack relaxed a little. With this boy’s help, he could escape before the trapper appeared. Jack offered his most friendly smile.
The boy returned the smile, then punched the air in delight.
‘It worked!’ he exclaimed.
‘What worked?’ asked Jack.
‘My trap!’
‘This is your doing?’
The boy nodded proudly. Approaching his swinging captive, he turned his head to one side and studied Jack intently.
‘You look funny. Your face is all red.’
‘So would yours be if you’d been hanging upside down!’ replied Jack irritably.
‘Your hair’s gone white too. Very strange.’
‘It’s not white. It’s blond.’
‘And your nose. It’s huge! Are you a tengu?’
‘No, I’m not,’ said Jack through gritted teeth. His nose wasn’t particularly big for a European, but it was compared to a Japanese. ‘Now release me!’
The boy gently shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Tengu are dangerous. They trick people.’
‘I’m not trying to trick you,’ Jack insisted. ‘I don’t even know what a tengu is.’
The boy laughed. ‘Of course you don’t. No demon bird would ever admit to being one.’
He picked up a stick and prodded Jack with it. ‘You may look human, but your beaky nose gives it away.’
The boy began inspecting Jack’s belongings. ‘Where’s your magic feather fan?’
‘I don’t have a fan,’ Jack replied, his patience wearing thin.
‘Yes, you do. All tengu have one. That’s how you grow and shrink people’s noses.’
Setting the pack aside, he spotted Jack’s two gleaming swords.
‘Wow! Are these yours?’
‘Yes.’
‘How many samurai have you killed?’ he asked eagerly. Picking up the wakizashi, he began to swing it in mock combat.
Staring at the boy with as much menace as he could muster, Jack replied, ‘Let’s put it this way. You’ll be next, if you don’t let me down right now.’
The boy’s mouth dropped open and he respectfully returned the sword to its saya. ‘I know who you are,’ he breathed in awe.
Finally, thought Jack. Now we can make some progress. He must have heard about the hunt for a gaijin samurai.
‘You’re Sōjōbō, the King of the Tengu. You taught the legendary warrior Minamoto the Art of the Sword. You showed him magic too! Helped him defeat his enemies and avenge his father’s murder. My grandfather says you have the strength of one thousand tengu! I can’t believe I caught you –’
‘I’m not …’