The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [14]
‘Thank you,’ replied Jack, weighing up the sturdy branch in his hands. It was straight and strong, ideal not only as a walking stick but as a bō staff. Having trained in bōjutsu under the blind Sensei Kano at the Niten Ichi Ryū, Jack felt more confident now he had a weapon at his disposal.
‘Just keep up,’ muttered Ronin, turning on his heel and heading down the road.
Jack realized if this samurai was going to help him, he needed to get to know the man and befriend him. He considered the best way would be to show respect for Ronin’s fighting skills.
Trying to keep pace, Jack began, ‘It’s obvious you’re a highly trained warrior. Yesterday you defeated four armed dōshin single-handedly, even after three jars of saké! Where did you learn to fight like that?’
Ronin kept walking, not even acknowledging that Jack had asked a question.
‘I realize everything looked accidental,’ Jack persisted, ‘but to my trained eye there seemed more to it than pure luck.’
Jack still got no response, Ronin now avoiding eye contact altogether.
He tried one more time. ‘As a student of Masamoto-sama’s, I’m impressed anyone can fight like that – and win. How did you do it?’
Suddenly Ronin came to a halt. He turned on Jack, his eyes blazing.
‘There are two rules for being victorious in martial arts. Rule one is never tell others everything you know.’
Jack waited for Ronin to continue, but the samurai simply walked on and resumed his stoical silence.
‘And rule two?’ Jack prompted, hurrying after him.
Ronin raised an eyebrow in irritation. Then it dawned on Jack that he wouldn’t be telling him, even if there was another rule.
‘Very funny,’ said Jack, laughing in an attempt to break the tension.
Ronin didn’t laugh, so Jack decided to try a different tack. ‘Were you at the battle of Osaka Castle?’
Ronin’s expression became grave and Jack took that as a ‘yes’.
‘On whose side?’ he enquired hesitantly.
Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, Ronin replied, ‘The only one I trust – my own.’
‘But you must have served a daimyo,’ Jack continued, not willing to give up now he’d started Ronin talking. ‘What was his name? Masamoto-sama may have known him.’
‘My sword is my daimyo,’ Ronin shot back. ‘Now, less talk and more walk.’
As Ronin quickened his pace, Jack wondered what could have happened to make the man so bitter and guarded. The samurai walked as if a dark shadow clung to his back. Jack had seen men like Ronin on-board the Alexandria, who’d turned to the bottle to blot out some horror or regret in their lives. A troubled past appeared to haunt Ronin’s every step. The question was, what was he escaping from?
As they turned a corner in the path, the outskirts of a town came into view.
‘You’d better wear this,’ said Ronin, shoving his wide-brimmed hat on to Jack’s head to cover his face. ‘We don’t want you attracting any trouble.’
8
TANUKI
Ronin led the way, Jack keeping close at his heel and only risking the occasional glance up. The going in town was easier for Jack compared to the muddy and rocky paths they had been travelling. Hard-packed by countless feet, the main road was even and relatively stone-free. The street itself was a mishmash of wooden buildings and bamboo huts that housed various businesses: an inn, a shop selling cloth, a couple of tea houses, a restaurant filled with customers tucking into steaming bowls of soba, and several other stores, their wares hidden behind large cloth awnings. Dotted in between were private houses and the occasional Shinto shrine. In the background, Jack could hear a river flowing, its peaceful wash punctuated by the rhythmic thunk of a hammer against wood.
‘What town is this?’ asked Jack.
‘Kizu,’ Ronin grunted in response.
The townspeople, going about their daily business, gave Ronin a wide berth as soon as they caught sight of his fearsome appearance. No one even looked at Jack – the peasant boy in the ragged kimono and straw hat who obediently followed in his master’s wake. This suited Jack just fine.
‘Wait here,’ ordered Ronin, striding