Young Samurai_ The Way of the Sword - Chris Bradford [81]
Jack lay there in the bushes, panting for breath. He listened to the hellish squeal recede until eventually it was drowned out by the storm. In his desperation to evade the wild boar, Jack had dropped his lantern and it now lay crushed and useless in the mud, its flame extinguished.
What was he to do now? It was the middle of the night and the dense forest meant he could barely see more than a few feet in front of him. He would surely get lost on the mountainside if he tried to find his way down in the darkness. And, he reminded himself, he was deep in ninja territory. His chances of finishing the challenge, let alone getting off the mountain alive, were minimal.
Having been the last to start, there was also little point in waiting to be discovered. If he stayed put, there was a danger of dying from the extreme cold.
His predicament couldn’t be much worse. Too tired to cry, he got angry instead. Getting to his feet, Jack stumbled onwards down the path.
He would not be defeated by this mountain.
He would survive.
He walked straight into a tree.
Jack cursed, but kept going. He remembered the lesson the Daruma Doll had taught him the previous year in Taryu-Jiai. Seven times down, eight times up.
Taking a moment to calm himself, Jack realized he should be using the techniques Sensei Kano had taught him in sensitivity training. With hands outstretched, he cautiously felt and listened his way through the forest.
For the first time ever, Jack began to appreciate what Sensei Kano faced on a daily basis, and his admiration for the blind teacher grew ten thousandfold. For the bō master, life was a constant struggle through a pitch-black forest, yet he took it all in his stride.
Having got his own troubles into perspective, Jack battled on.
Rounding a corner and heading down the trail, he noticed a flickering light in the darkness. As he got closer, Jack could hear a low moaning. He quickened his pace. He saw a figure lying in the mud and recognized Yori.
‘What happened? Are you all right?’ asked Jack, stumbling up to him.
‘A boar attacked me,’ Yori groaned, his face pale with shock in the glow of his paper lantern.
Jack redirected the light and inspected his friend for injuries. He discovered Yori had a large gash on his right thigh. It was bleeding badly and Jack knew he would have to get his friend off the mountain as soon as possible, if he was to have any chance of surviving. Jack ripped off the sleeve of his robe and tied it tightly round Yori’s leg to stem the bleeding.
‘Do you think you can stand?’
‘I’ve tried… It’s no use,’ gasped Yori, his eyes screwed up in agony. ‘Go and get help.’
‘I can’t leave you here. You’re already shivering. We have to get you off the mountain now.’
‘But I can’t walk…’
‘Yes, you can,’ said Jack, slipping an arm round Yori’s waist. ‘Put your arm over my shoulder.’
With great effort, Jack got Yori back to his feet.
‘But I’ll slow you down,’ protested Yori, ‘and you won’t complete the challenge.’
‘I can’t see where I’m going anyway. I lost my lantern to that stupid boar. So we need each other. Don’t you see, together we have a chance of finishing,’ persuaded Jack, smiling his encouragement. ‘Look, I’ll support you, if you hold the lantern to light our way.’
They took a few faltering steps and stumbled. Yori cried out in pain as they fell against a tree.
‘This is stupid,’ wheezed Yori. ‘We’ll never make it at this rate.’
‘We’ll make it. We just need to find our rhythm.’
Jack looked away before Yori could see the doubt in his eyes.
The lame leading the blind, thought Jack. What hope did they honestly have?
Jack and Yori were lost.
Having agreed that the safest and quickest way down was to follow the route that had been given to them, they’d been making good progress and had been encouraged by the fact that they’d found the next four shrines with little problem. But the twentieth shrine was proving elusive.
‘The book definitely says turn right at the stone lantern to reach the stream,’ said Jack.