The Ring of Water - Chris Bradford [87]
As the rapids and white water swirled around, Jack lost all sight of Ronin. He kept swimming, desperate to save his friend. But he knew the badly wounded Ronin might already have drowned. Kicking hard, he made for the position he’d last seen the samurai. A splintered bridge stilt shot by, almost taking Jack’s head off. Then he spied Ronin on his back, feebly splashing to stay afloat.
Jack made a last-ditch effort and reached Ronin just as he went back under. Seizing the samurai’s arm, Jack pulled him above the surface and began to swim for the bank. But the drag from his pack, swords and an unconscious Ronin meant he made little headway.
The river inextricably drew them downstream, sapping Jack’s strength with every stroke. A wave caught him full in the face and he choked on the waters. Too exhausted to keep going, he felt himself slip below the surface. Jack kicked hard and bobbed up briefly. A section of walkway bumped into them and he clung on to it, a life raft of fading hope.
The riverbank rushed by and Jack kicked desperately in its direction. His legs felt like lead and he was on the point of giving up entirely, when they ran aground. With the last of his strength, Jack dragged the dead weight of Ronin clear of the water and collapsed beside him.
The rain pelted the mud around them and Jack sank his fingers into the earth, not wanting to let go for fear of being pulled back into the raging torrent.
Ronin groaned. Jack forced himself to his knees and examined the samurai.
‘You’re bleeding badly,’ said Jack, pressing a hand to the samurai’s ribs to stem the flow.
Ronin gasped in pain and moaned, ‘Where’s … Hana?’
Jack shook his head sadly. ‘I haven’t seen her since the wave struck.’
‘Must look.’
Ronin struggled to sit up.
Through the relentless grey rain, the bridge was no more than a few skeletal stilts, a shipwreck of a crossing. Survivors were few and far between.
‘I can’t see her,’ said Jack, realizing it was beyond hope that a non-swimmer would last long in the raging river.
With trembling fingers, Ronin pulled a tattered paper crane from his kimono.
‘Hana … my little Hana,’ he sobbed.
He tossed the tiny bird upon the waters and they watched it float away.
‘We’d best go,’ urged Jack, putting an arm round Ronin and helping him to his feet. ‘We need to hide and take care of your injuries.’
They stumbled along the bank and towards the forest. Just as they reached the undergrowth there was a shout. They both looked round, fearing the worst.
‘JACK! RONIN!’ cried Hana above the roar of the river.
She stood upon the opposite bank, jumping up and down, waving her arms madly.
A smile of relief burst on to Ronin’s sorrowful face. ‘Hana! She’s safe!’
But, further down, Jack spotted another figure crawling out – Kazuki.
‘RUN!’ cried Jack, pointing furiously to the danger.
Hana saw Kazuki rise to his feet and she began to back away. Jack and Ronin watched helplessly, the river dividing them.
Kazuki lurched towards Hana, his gloved hand with its secret blade primed to cut her to shreds.
Then he collapsed in an exhausted heap, the battle and the flood having finally taken their toll.
‘GO!’ shouted Jack and Ronin as one.
Nodding, Hana waved her farewell. She held up the inro to Jack, signalling her plan to head for Toba, before disappearing into the treeline.
56
REDEMPTION
Jack helped Ronin lie down upon the straw futon in the back room of a small farmhouse. As they’d fled through the forest, Ronin had collapsed several times. Jack had doubted they’d find somewhere to shelter in time to save him, when they came across a farmstead. Despite his initial reluctance, the farmer’s compassion had outweighed his fear and he’d ushered them inside.
In the main room where the hearth was, his wife busied herself boiling water to clean Ronin’s wounds. Jack spoke quietly to the farmer and he nodded, returning a moment later with an old chipped bottle.
‘Here,’ said Jack, offering it to Ronin. ‘To help numb the pain.’
‘What is it?’ he mumbled.
‘Saké.’
Ronin pushed the