The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [6]
‘Dōshin!’ growled a voice.
The beating stopped and Jack glanced up to see the drunken samurai from the tea house swaying unsteadily towards them, a saké jug in his left hand. He was now wearing his straw hat against the rain and bore his two swords on his hip.
‘This has nothing to do with you, ronin!’ said the leader.
The ronin wagged a finger at the dōshin leader. ‘There’s four of you and …’ The samurai’s bleary eyes tried to focus on Jack. ‘… two of him. That’s not fair!’
‘You’re drunk, ronin.’
Disregarding the officer, the samurai kept coming.
‘This is my final warning. Be gone!’
Taking a swig from his saké jug, the samurai stumbled a couple of steps closer, then belched loudly into the dōshin leader’s face.
‘Have it your own way,’ said the leader in disgust and, nodding to his other dōshin, ordered, ‘Arrest him too. For obstructing the course of justice.’
The nearest dōshin, a young man with hollow cheeks, stepped up to bind the samurai’s hands with a rope, while the second-in-command officer went to hold them together. The ronin offered this one his saké jug. ‘Here, take this.’
Without thinking, the officer obediently complied. As the younger dōshin attempted to loop the rope round their new prisoner’s wrists, the samurai lurched drunkenly to one side, accidentally headbutting the man in the face.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, while continuing to stagger around the dazed dōshin, knocking into him several more times before regaining his balance.
The young dōshin looked down to discover he was now completely tied up in his own rope.
‘How did that happen?’ exclaimed the ronin in surprise.
Realizing they’d been tricked, the dōshin leader thrust his jutte at the drunken samurai. The ronin reeled away at the last moment and the iron tip of the truncheon struck the bound dōshin instead. The young man collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. The officer who held the saké jug was bewildered by the unexpected assault and seemed at a loss about what to do with the jug.
‘Thank you,’ slurred the ronin, taking back his drink and solving the man’s problem. Lifting it to take a swig, he knocked the officer hard in the jaw with the bottom of the jug. The officer reeled backwards. The samurai then spun to face the dōshin leader, his elbow inadvertently catching the stunned officer in the head and knocking him out cold.
Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The samurai could barely stand, yet he was defeating the dōshin with startling ease.
‘You’ll pay for this, ronin!’ snarled the dōshin leader, striking for the samurai’s head.
By now the dōshin with the broken fingers had recovered and drawn his sword. He came at the samurai from behind, while the leader attacked from in front. Jack cried out a warning to the ronin, who was apparently passing out from too much saké. But at the last second, he somersaulted out of the way. The two dōshin were on a collision course with one another and the officer’s sword pierced his leader in the gut.
‘That’s going to hurt!’ said the ronin, grimacing in sympathy as the dōshin leader fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.
The leader, his face pale with shock, glared at the ronin. ‘Kill him!’
Mortified at wounding his superior, the remaining officer hesitated before screaming an enraged battle cry as he charged at the samurai. During that split second, the ronin had picked up the man’s jutte.
‘I believe this is yours?’ he said as the dōshin cut for his head.
With lightning speed, the samurai blocked the attack with the iron bar of the jutte and caught the steel blade between the jutte’s shaft and prong. With a sharp twist, the ronin snapped the dōshin’s sword in two. The officer took one look at his broken katana and turned on his heel.
‘Don’t forget your jutte,’ called the ronin, throwing the weapon at the fleeing officer. It spun through the air, the handle striking the man in the back of the head. The dōshin