The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [35]
‘And?’ prompted Hana.
Ronin got to his feet, bottle in hand.
‘Drunken Fist relies on deception,’ he explained, staggering slightly. ‘You mimic a drunkard with his cups.’ He held one hand out as if grasping a cup. ‘You move around, soft but strong.’
Ronin swayed, rocking and rolling on the balls of his feet.
‘When I reach for another drink, it’s actually a strike.’ He flung out his hand, stopping just short of Hana’s nose. ‘Or a grab technique.’ He clamped down upon Hana’s shoulder and she squealed as his fingers bit in. ‘You aim for pressure points, or else take the opponent’s balance.’
Despite his initial reluctance, Ronin was clearly warming to his role as sensei. Hana watched intently, while Jack made mental notes of everything Ronin was imparting.
‘The principle tactic is to feign defence while trying to attack. To appear to aim in one direction, while moving in another.’
Staggering to his right, Ronin executed a devastating side-kick with his opposite leg.
‘I use all these movements to confuse my opponent, so I always look off-balance.’ Ronin tottered on one foot. ‘But I always stay in control, maintaining my centre of balance –’
Suddenly Ronin flailed his arms and fell to the ground, bringing the lesson to an abrupt end. The ungainly finish caused Hana to burst into a fit of giggles. Jack knew Ronin wouldn’t take kindly to this and, glaring at Hana, hurried over to help the drunken samurai to his feet.
‘You thought I fell,’ challenged Ronin as Jack came near.
In the blink of an eye, Ronin twisted on his back, spiralling upwards. His foot would have caught Jack in the jaw, if Jack hadn’t dodged the surprise attack. But a second later, Jack was struck in the chest with a palm strike and he was sent flying. He landed on top of Hana, both of them stunned by the unexpected assault.
‘That is Drunken Fist,’ proclaimed Ronin proudly. ‘Just when your opponent thinks you’re most vulnerable … you strike!’
21
UMESHU
‘Why not use the bridge?’ asked Hana as they resumed their journey the next day.
‘You won’t learn anything from a bridge,’ replied Ronin, leaping from the bank and on to a rock poking out of the water.
He landed on one foot, arms outstretched, the saké bottle in one hand, his swords in the other. Jack and Hana watched as he swayed slightly above the rippling waters.
‘Balance can make or break a martial artist.’
He jumped to the next stepping stone, smaller than the first and more slippery. But he had no problem keeping his footing. Just as he’d fought in a drunken lopsided manner, so Ronin leapt from rock to rock, flexing like a reed to counterbalance himself, until he reached the opposite bank.
He raised his bottle in a toast to them and took a swig.
Hana looked at Jack. ‘If he can cross it, I definitely can.’
Taking a running leap, she reached the first stone.
‘Easy!’ she cried, tottering slightly on her tiny island.
Drawing in a deep breath, she readied herself for the next jump. As she landed, her foot slipped and she lost her balance. Arms cartwheeling in the air, Hana looked like a frenzied sparrow as she tried to right herself. But it was no use. She toppled head first into the river.
Ronin guffawed loudly at Hana’s misfortune as she came up spluttering and gasping.
‘I can’t swim! I can’t swim!’ she yelled, splashing frantically in the water.
Jack kicked off his sandals and was about to jump in after her, when Ronin said, ‘STAND UP! It’s not deep.’
Finding her feet, Hana stopped panicking and looked a little sheepish. The water only came up to her waist and she waded the rest of the way.
Ronin turned to Jack. ‘Your turn, samurai boy!’
Jack, who’d experienced many such tests during his training at the Niten Ichi Ryū, wasn’t troubled by the crossing. He even had the advantage of his bō to maintain balance. Tucking his sandals