The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [73]
How had he come into possession of this?
Again he wondered what had happened after Ronin had drugged him. Had the samurai also been responsible for his injuries? Why had Ronin split from the gang? And how come he’d been left in possession of the rutter?
Jack willed himself to remember. The sky flared and the mountain god roared again. Just as he drifted off to sleep, the memory slipped back …
46
MUGGING
‘Take a look at this fancy inro, Botan,’ said a voice.
Jack felt the carrying case tugged from his obi. He floated on the edge of consciousness, too weak to move. The basket upon his head had twisted and all he could see were four pairs of sandalled feet.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ slurred a voice belonging to Ronin.
‘This is no longer your business,’ replied a gruff man.
‘I thought he was to be interrogated,’ said Ronin. ‘Not robbed!’
‘You’ve done your job. Now take your saké and go.’
‘Botan, when did a monk ever carry swords like these?’ questioned a third man.
‘Hey, Manzo, he’s got a string of money too!’ exclaimed the first voice. ‘And a bag full of food, clothes and a … book?’
‘Who is this man?’ questioned the gruff voice. ‘Shoda, let’s see his face.’
The basket was wrenched from Jack’s head.
‘A gaijin!’ exclaimed a gaunt-looking samurai, dressed in a grey threadbare kimono. He stumbled away, basket in hand.
‘You’re so easily scared, Shoda. He’s just a boy!’ teased a younger samurai with high eyebrows and a jutting jaw. He was wielding one of Jack’s swords. ‘You know I could defeat anyone with a weapon like this.’
‘I wasn’t scared, Manzo. I just didn’t expect to see another face as ugly as yours!’
Ronin, quaffing on a large bottle, stared in shock at the unexpected foreigner.
‘This isn’t just any gaijin,’ said Botan. ‘Blond hair, blue eyes and samurai swords. He can only be the gaijin samurai those dōshin are seeking. We’ve struck gold! There’s a reward of a whole koban on this boy’s head.’
Shoda’s eyes widened in greedy delight.
‘Tell me, is this gaijin worth more alive or dead?’ he asked, his leering face drifting in and out of focus before Jack.
‘Not sure,’ replied Botan. ‘But it’s too much effort dragging him to Kizu. Just take his head.’
On hearing this Jack wanted to scream, but could only manage a feeble groan.
‘Let me!’ volunteered Manzo, hefting Jack’s katana in one hand.
‘No!’ shouted Ronin, drawing his sword and blocking Manzo’s blade. ‘This is not what was agreed.’
‘Plans have changed,’ said Botan.
‘I won’t stand by …’ Ronin swayed uncontrollably ‘… and let you …’ He shook his head trying to clear it ‘… murder an innocent boy …’
Ronin collapsed to the ground, his bottle rolling into the bushes.
Manzo laughed. ‘I can’t believe you drugged his saké too.’
Botan stood over the comatose Ronin. ‘Remind me never to hire a drunken samurai again.’
‘What are you going to do with him?’ asked Shoda.
‘Nothing. He won’t remember any of this by the morning.’
‘Good, then we won’t have to split the spoils with him either.’
‘It’d be unfair to leave him with absolutely nothing,’ said Botan, picking up Jack’s rutter and dropping it into Ronin’s lap. ‘At least he’ll have something to read when he eventually comes round!’
Botan gave a deep booming laugh at his sick joke.
‘Now kill the gaijin and bag his head.’
Grinning, Manzo swung the blade at Jack. Facing certain death, Jack’s survival instinct sent a surge of adrenalin through him. Willing every muscle in his body to move, he rolled out of the way as the blade sliced for his neck, embedding itself in the tree instead.
Struggling to his feet while Manzo tried to pull the sword free, Jack snatched up his shakuhachi and brought it crashing down on the back of the samurai’s head. Manzo dropped to the ground like a stone.
‘Stop him!’ snarled Botan.
Shoda rushed in. Jack, too drugged to react to the