The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [4]
The girl returned with a steaming bowl of noodle soup. Despite the nausea he’d experienced earlier, Jack was ravenous and needed the food to recover his strength.
‘Arigatō gozaimasu,’ he said, bowing and thanking the girl.
Her mouth fell open in astonishment. ‘You speak Japanese?’
Jack nodded. He had his best friend, Akiko, to be grateful to for that. After being stranded in Japan, he was first taught the language by a Portuguese priest, Father Lucius. But the man died not long after his arrival and Akiko took over his lessons. Jack had spent many hours with her beneath the sakura tree in her mother’s garden in Toba, learning about the Japanese way of life. And although he’d lost his memory of the last few days there were some things he would never forget – Akiko’s kindness was one of them.
Looking at the bowl before him, Jack said, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t have any money.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said the girl, placing a wooden spoon on the table.
‘Thank you,’ he replied, savouring the soup’s mouth-watering aroma.
The girl turned to leave, but Jack stopped her.
‘Please …’ Jack called, so many questions rushing into his head at once, ‘did you leave me the jug of water?’
Offering a shy smile, the girl nodded.
‘You’re very kind. Perhaps you can tell me where I am?’
‘Kamo,’ she replied, and, seeing the bewildered expression on his face, continued. ‘It’s a village on the banks of the Kizu River. We’re not far from the main town of Kizu itself.’
‘Am I still in the Iga mountains?’
‘No, they’re some two days’ walk east. This is Yamashiro Province.’
At least Jack knew he’d made some progress on his journey home. ‘Did you find me like this?’ he asked, indicating his injuries.
‘No, my father did,’ replied the girl, glancing over at the tea-house owner who now stood behind his counter, observing Jack. The previous customer with the moustache had departed.
‘He found you yesterday morning, left for dead beside the river.’
She looked at Jack’s swollen eye and split lip with concern.
‘I’m OK,’ said Jack, putting on a brave face for her benefit. ‘Do you know if your father has any of my belongings?’
The girl shook her head apologetically. ‘It was just you.’
‘Junko!’ called her father sternly. ‘The soup’s boiling over.’
Bowing to Jack, Junko smiled. ‘You’re lucky to be alive,’ she said, before hurrying into the kitchen.
Alive, yes … but for how long? thought Jack.
He had nothing. No money to buy food. No clothes of his own. No disguise to elude his pursuers. No friends to help him. No swords to protect himself with. And he couldn’t rely on this girl and her father’s charity for more than a few days. After that, he’d be on his own.
Jack took some mouthfuls of soup, wincing as his cut lip stung. But the food’s nourishing warmth began to revive him. By the time he finished the meal, he was feeling a little better, and much stronger.
With some more rest, he thought, I might remember what happened to me.
His most distressing concern was the loss of his father’s prized possession, the rutter. This logbook was the only means of navigating the world’s oceans safely and therefore a highly valuable item. His was one of the few accurate rutters in existence, and its importance reached far beyond its use as a navigational instrument. The country in possession of such a logbook could in effect rule the seas by controlling the trade routes between nations. His father, the Pilot of the Alexandria, had warned him never to let the rutter fall into the wrong hands and Jack had spent the last three years protecting the logbook with his life. It had been stolen once and recovered at great cost, his good friend Yamato sacrificing his life to get it back from the villainous ninja Dragon Eye. So, whatever had happened to Jack this time, the logbook was most definitely in the wrong hands. The question was whose hands?
The only clue to his predicament was the amulet. He studied its green silk pouch. The wreath logo meant nothing to him and, although Akiko had taught him some kanji, his mind was still