The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [20]
The samurai disappeared into the darkness, noisily making his way through the undergrowth. Left alone, Jack kept up his vigilance and surveyed the forest for movement. He knew the ninja were able to disguise their presence by assuming the shape of rocks, blending into tree trunks and hiding within long grass. The forest could conceal any number of assassins, and Jack began seeing them in every bulge and fleeting shadow.
All of a sudden, Ronin became silent.
Jack turned in his direction. ‘Ronin,’ he whispered. ‘Are you all right?’
There was no response. Jack tightened his grip on the bō. Perhaps the samurai had simply stopped walking and was out of earshot. On the other hand, he could have been seized, possibly even killed. The ninja were experts in silent assassination. And if Ronin was dead Jack would be next.
The silence stretched on; even the forest seemed to have stopped breathing.
Judging by their stealth, Jack was now convinced it was a ninja ambush. Clasping both hands together, middle fingers entwined, thumbs and little finger extended in a V-shape, he formed the Dragon Seal and turned slowly in a circle.
Jack waited for a reponse.
Nothing.
‘Ronin!’ he whispered more urgently.
A branch snapped behind him. Jack whirled round, staff held high to strike. The steel blade of a battleworn katana glinted in the moonlight and a fearsome warrior stepped out.
‘Didn’t find anyone,’ Ronin grunted.
Jack lowered his staff. ‘But I know I sensed a presence.’
‘You should stay on the alert then,’ replied Ronin, sheathing his sword and lying down on the ground.
‘What are you going to do?’ Jack asked.
Ronin didn’t bother replying. He just folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, leaving Jack to guard their camp alone.
Jack still had the unnerving feeling of being watched. But after sweeping the bushes he’d found no one and put the sensation down to anxiety at the thought of returning to Kyoto.
Tired as he was, Jack forced himself to perform another self-healing meditation. His swollen eye was already going down and the bruises were fading fast, but it would still be a few more days before he was back to full health. He quietly murmured the words of the Sha mantra to ensure he didn’t disturb Ronin.
At some point, Jack leant back against the fallen log and drifted in and out of sleep.
A soft furred creature emerged from a bush, its bright inquisitive eyes twinkling in the starlight. Its snout twitched, sniffing him out. Jack let the animal approach.
You’re a tanuki, thought Jack.
Suddenly a swirling tornado of leaves enveloped the tanuki, rising to the height of a man. A second later, as if the wind had died, the leaves fell to the ground, revealing a bushy-bearded man in a blood-red robe.
‘Riddle me this, young samurai! What is greater than God, more evil than the Devil? Poor people have it, rich people need it, and if you eat it you’ll die. Tell me this and I shall give it to you.’
Jack thought he knew the answer, but his mouth wouldn’t open. His lips were sealed as tight as a tomb.
The Riddling Monk began to shrink before his eyes, the voice falling away like a pebble down a well. ‘What you find is lost … What you give is given back … What you fight is defeated … What you want is sacrificed.’
The monk’s robes consumed him until he was no more than a cloth heap. A tanuki crawled out and sauntered off into the forest, leaves crackling like fresh snow beneath its paws …
Halfway between sleep and waking, Jack sensed a shadow pass before his eyes. He caught a whiff of pine needles and saw a hand reach for Ronin’s swords. In that instant, Jack became alert. Without hesitating, he leapt upon the shadow crouching beside Ronin. Executing a punishing shoulder throw, he pinned the shadow to the ground, pressing his staff hard across its throat. Ronin was immediately by his side, a tantō knife in his hand ready to kill the intruder.
‘No … Stop!’ spluttered a terrified voice.
Jack stared into the dark eyes of a waif-like girl. She had a bob of knotted black hair that