Young Samurai _ The Way Of The Dragon - Chris Bradford [2]
‘About time,’ growled the man.
Without turning round, the man picked up the package and unwrapped it to reveal a worn leatherbound book.
‘The rutter!’ he breathed, caressing its cover, then opening its pages to examine the sea charts, ocean reports and meticulous logging of tides, compass bearings and star constellations. ‘Now we possess what is rightfully ours. To think, the fortune of the world is in my hands. The secrets of the oceans laid bare for our nation to command the trade routes. It’s our divine right to rule the seas.’
The man placed the logbook on the altar. ‘And what of the boy?’ he asked, his back to the ninja still. ‘Is he dead?’
‘No.’
‘Why not? My instructions were explicit.’
‘As you know, the samurai Masamoto has been training the boy in the Way of the Warrior,’ explained the ninja. ‘The boy is now highly skilled and has proven somewhat… resilient.’
‘Resilient? Are you telling me a mere boy has defeated the great Dokugan Ryu?’
Dragon Eye’s single emerald-green eye flared in annoyance at the man’s mockery. He contemplated snapping the man’s neck there and then, but he had yet to receive payment for retrieving the rutter. Such pleasures would have to wait.
‘I employed you because you were the best. The most ruthless,’ continued the man. ‘Am I mistaken in my judgement, Dragon Eye? Why haven’t you killed him?’
‘Because you may still need him.’
The man turned round, his face cast in shadow.
‘What could I possibly want with Jack Fletcher?’
‘The rutter is encrypted. Only the boy knows the code.’
‘How do you know that?’ demanded the man, a note of alarm registering in his voice. ‘Have you been trying to break the cipher yourself?’
‘Of course,’ revealed the ninja. ‘After the mistake of acquiring the Portuguese dictionary, I thought it wise to check the contents before delivery.’
‘Did you have any success?’ asked the man.
‘Not entirely. The unfamiliar combination of Portuguese and English made the task somewhat more complex than anticipated.’
‘No matter. It’s of little consequence,’ said the man, evidently pleased that the knowledge remained secret from the ninja. ‘There’s a Franciscan monk in the dungeons, a mathematician and fluent in both the languages. The mere promise of freedom should secure his decoding services.’
‘And what about the gaijin boy?’ asked Dragon Eye.
‘Once the code’s broken, complete your mission,’ ordered the man, turning to kneel before the altar once more. ‘Kill him.’
1
THE CRUTCH
Jack’s blood pounded in his ears. His heart raced. His lungs burnt for oxygen. But he couldn’t stop now.
He tore headlong through the bamboo forest, ducking and weaving between the maze of thick stems that stretched like bony fingers into a vast canopy of olive-green leaves.
‘Where’s he gone?’ came a shout from behind.
Jack didn’t stop running, despite his protesting muscles. He would not give up the pursuit.
Ever since Jack’s fateful arrival in Japan, when his boat, the Alexandria, had been shipwrecked then attacked by ninja, the assassin Dragon Eye had been the bane of his life. The ninja had murdered his father then followed Jack across Japan, hunting him down until finally stealing his father’s rutter.
Jack was now intent on finding the ninja and getting the logbook back.
‘We’ve lost him!’ declared a second voice in disbelief.
Jack slowed his pace and frantically looked around. His friends were right. The man they were chasing had vanished into the thicket.
Yamato and Akiko caught up with Jack. Akiko was forced to sit down and rest. She still wasn’t fully recovered from her recent poisoning and the chase had taken its toll on her. The usual white glow of her complexion had dulled and dark shadows ringed her half-moon eyes.
Jack felt a pang of guilt. Even though Akiko didn’t blame him, he was the reason for her condition. In an attempt to protect the rutter, Jack had hidden it in the castle of daimyo Takatomi, the