The Ring of Earth - Chris Bradford [9]
‘Dead. Killed by ninja who attacked our ship.’
‘What about family?’
‘My mother died of pneumonia when I was ten. My father was murdered by a ninja called Dragon Eye. The only family I have left is a younger sister in England.’
The old man, his eyes full of pity, gave a long, sorrowful sigh.
Then, looking at Hanzo, he put his arm round the boy. ‘Hanzo’s like you. He doesn’t have a mother or father either.’
‘But I have you, Grandfather!’ reminded Hanzo, beaming up at him.
‘Of course you do,’ said Soke, smiling. He turned back to Jack and asked, ‘Who are you running from?’
‘No one,’ replied Jack. While the old man seemed harmless enough, he didn’t wish him to know the Shogun’s samurai were after him.
‘But the broken stems and hurried footprints along the trail suggest otherwise. Don’t they teach you the Art of Stealth at the Niten Ichi Ryū?’
Jack, avoiding eye contact, shifted uncomfortably under the man’s gaze. The grandfather may be old, but he wasn’t stupid. And he was clearly observant.
‘You’re easy to track if you know what to look for,’ Soke continued. ‘The samurai patrol is bound to find your trail sooner or later.’
Jack’s eyes widened in panic.
Soke smiled shrewdly. ‘So a samurai has become the enemy of the samurai. Intriguing.’
Jack, gathering his belongings, grabbed his swords and hobbled towards a path leading south out of the clearing.
‘I wouldn’t go that way,’ advised Soke.
Jack stopped. ‘Why not?’
‘Samurai.’
Turning round, Jack headed for a track going east towards the rising sun.
‘Nor that way. The Iga mountains are impassable without a guide.’
Frustrated, Jack went over to a third path.
Soke solemnly shook his head. ‘Bandits and samurai.’
Jack began to wonder if the grandfather was playing games with him. ‘I’ll have to take that risk.’
Stumbling down the sloping path, he tried to shake some life into his legs. Jack knew he’d been lucky the trap hadn’t belonged to a bandit or a ninja, but the boy’s meddling had delayed him and could have been his end. Now Jack had to hope he could elude the samurai patrol looking for him. But he hadn’t got very far before he heard voices.
‘Tracker! Which way now?’
‘It looks like he went up slope.’
Below, Jack could see movement in the bushes. The grandfather had been telling the truth. As swiftly and silently as he could, Jack retraced his steps.
‘Back so soon,’ observed Soke, still upon the log, clearly expecting his return.
‘Which way should I go?’ Jack pleaded, the voices drawing ever closer.
Soke pointed a bony finger upwards. Hanzo was high in the branches, retrieving his rope. Though his leg was still numb, Jack realized the skills he’d acquired as a rigging monkey on-board the Alexandria would allow him to climb the tree.
‘Why don’t you just fly up?’ whispered Hanzo as Jack began his ascent.
‘Shh!’ said Soke, putting a finger to his lips.
Jack had only just reached Hanzo when six samurai strode into the clearing.
‘Old man!’ demanded the lead one. ‘Have you seen a gaijin in these woods?’
Jack immediately recognized the warrior by his rat-like moustache and lack of topknot as the one he’d buried beneath the bamboo ceiling. The soldiers accompanying him appeared to be mean, battle-hardened warriors. Two carried trident-shaped spears and another a lethal-bladed naginata. The samurai was clearly taking no chances this time.
One of them – the tracker, Jack presumed – was examining the ground carefully. Jack was only metres above him. If he were to glance up, it would all be over.
Soke cupped a hand to his ear. The samurai rolled his eyes in irritation. ‘HAVE YOU SEEN A GAIJIN?’ he repeated, loud and slow.
‘With these eyes?’ Soke laughed. ‘You must be joking.’
‘This is hopeless,’ said the leader, angrily kicking Soke’s cane away.
Then he decided to push the old man off the log for good measure. But somehow the samurai missed as Soke bent to retrieve his cane with unexpected speed. The leader lost his balance and toppled over the log himself. The troop of samurai tried to stifle their amusement.