Young Samurai: The Ring of Sky (32 page)

But, surprisingly, neither Kazuki nor any
band of hired warriors appeared on the road.

Jack began to wonder if they’d managed
to slip past his old school rival – that by some sheer stroke of luck, they were now
home free all the way to Nagasaki. An odd sense of disappointment washed over Jack. He
realized that he
wanted
Kazuki to find him; that he himself had half sought
that final confrontation. In truth, he couldn’t leave Japan without resolving
their rivalry. If Kazuki wasn’t dealt with before Jack departed for England, then
Akiko would always be in danger. Jack recognized that Akiko could handle herself, but
he’d never sleep soundly again without knowing – with absolute certainty – that
she was safe from Kazuki’s vengeful spite.

Jack wondered if Nagasaki would be their
ultimate battleground.

The road left the ridge and passed through
grassland before re-entering the forest.

Around noon, they came to a winding river,
where a narrow wooden bridge led into a sizeable village. Surrounded by paddy fields and
thorn bushes, the settlement was a criss-cross of wooden buildings and rice barns. A
large pond fed by the
river stretched along the eastern side of the
village, its waters undisturbed in the stifling heat of the day.

‘Not far now,’ said Benkei,
bounding over the bridge. ‘By tonight we’ll be dining in
Nagasaki!’

Only when they were passing the first few
houses did Jack and the others notice something strange.

His
shakujō
jingling loudly in the
unnatural silence, Yori asked, ‘Where are all the people?’

51
 
 

Jack’s eyes scanned the buildings and
paddy fields surrounding them. There was no one in the street and no farmers working the
fields. A lone watchtower stood at the centre of the community like a redundant
guardian. Some of the closely packed dwellings had their windows wide open to let in
what little breeze there was. Several doors were also ajar, as if awaiting the imminent
return of their owners. The faint aroma of boiling rice and the taint of woodsmoke
wafted through the air. The village even boasted a small inn, but this was shuttered up.
It was as if every villager had been spirited away.

Still, Jack had the unnerving feeling of
being watched.

Miyuki felt it too. She was already reaching
into her bag and pulling out her
ninjatō
. ‘Back to the bridge. Right
now!’

Akiko tugged on her reins, wheeling Snowball
round, when an arrow shot out of nowhere. Its barb struck her in the chest, the impact
knocking her from her horse.

‘Akiko!’ cried Jack, running to
her aid.

‘No, Jack!’ shouted Miyuki,
shoulder-barging him to one side.

Another arrow whistled past, a hair’s
breadth from Jack’s neck. He sprawled into the dirt, dust choking his mouth. He
crawled over to Akiko and tried to shield her from further attack.

More arrows whizzed past like angry wasps.
Snowball stood over them, as if sensing his mistress was in danger. He whinnied and
reared up as a steel-tipped shaft pierced his flank, but he held his ground.

‘Get Akiko into cover,’
instructed Miyuki as she desperately tried to pinpoint the source of the attack.

Saburo was by Jack’s side in an
instant and together they dragged their injured friend into a narrow alleyway. Once
sheltered between the two buildings, Jack propped Akiko against a wall.

‘Akiko, speak to me,’ he pleaded
as he examined her wound.

‘It’s not … too
bad,’ she gasped, her face pale from shock. ‘The
breastplate … took most of the impact.’

Mercifully, the arrow had missed her heart,
penetrating just below the left shoulder. Yet blood still poured out at an alarming
rate. Jack tore a strip from his kimono sleeve and tried to staunch the flow.

Crouching beside them, Miyuki peered out
into the street. She whipped her head back –
thunk!
– as an arrow embedded
itself in the wooden pillar next to her.

‘I can’t locate the
archer!’ she snapped in frustration.

‘Where’s Yori?’ asked
Jack, suddenly realizing there were only four of them in the alley. ‘And
Benkei?’

Saburo looked across the street. ‘Over
there!’

Yori and Benkei were huddled together behind
a large water butt. Yet it provided scant cover for two and they were in a
perilous position. An arrow cracked into the barrel, water spurting
out in a fountain on to the sunbaked ground.

‘Can you see anyone?’ Miyuki
called to them.

Benkei shook his head, too scared to even
risk a glance. Yori peeked over the top of the barrel.

‘In the watchtower!’ he cried,
pointing to a flicker of movement behind the defensive panels surrounding the raised
platform.

‘We have to get Akiko to
safety,’ said Jack, his fingers wet with her blood.

‘As long as we stay clear of the
tower, we can retreat into the forest,’ Saburo suggested.

‘There isn’t just
one
archer,’ said Miyuki, studying the pattern of arrows that peppered the ground.
‘See how they’re stuck at different angles. Other archers must be hidden on
the roofs.’

‘We can’t stay pinned down here
forever,’ said Jack.

‘You’re right,’ replied
Miyuki. She looked to the other end of the alley, only to find it blocked by a spiked
fence. ‘We’ve no choice but to make a run for the bridge.’

She turned to Akiko. ‘Can you make
it?’

Akiko nodded. ‘It’s my shoulder,
not my legs, that’s the problem!’

‘We’ll soon fix that.’
Miyuki rifled in her bag for her ninja pouch. She pulled out a vial with a cork stopper
and a couple of field dressings. Taking hold of the arrow shaft in both hands, she
snapped off the feathered flights.

Akiko gasped in pain.

‘Careful!’ said Jack, holding
Akiko steady.

‘That is me being careful,’
replied Miyuki. ‘We need to get to the wound.’

Unclipping Akiko’s breastplate, she
eased it away and inspected the injury.

‘Good, it’s not deep,’ she
muttered and gripped the remains of the broken arrow. ‘I’ll try to be
quick,’ she told Akiko.

Nodding, Akiko bit down on her lower lip as
Miyuki teased the arrowhead out of her punctured flesh, but shrieked as the barb came
free. More blood flooded out. Miyuki soaked this away with one of the dressings, then
uncorked the vial.

‘This might sting a little,’ she
warned, sprinkling white powder over the open gash.

Akiko’s eyes flew wide open as if
Miyuki had just set fire to her shoulder.

‘The pain means it’s
working,’ explained Miyuki, allowing Akiko to clasp her hand tightly.
‘It’ll stop the bleeding and prevent any infection.’

‘It had better do!’ panted
Akiko, a sheen of perspiration on her brow. ‘Thanks, anyway.’

‘What are friends for,’ replied
Miyuki with a smile.

Jack hurriedly wrapped the spare dressing
over the wound as Miyuki repacked her pouch.

‘Where’s Snowball?’ asked
Akiko, the pain easing slightly.

Jack risked a glance into the street. In
that split second, an arrow speared his straw hat and pinned it to the wall. But he
managed to spot Snowball. The horse had jumped one of the high thorn hedges and was now
galloping across the fields. ‘He’s fine. But he’s taken our packs and
your bow with him,’ said Jack, wondering how he’d ever retrieve his
rutter
.

Akiko saw the concern on his face.
‘Don’t worry, he won’t go far. And I still have my swords to fight
with,’ she replied,
managing a valiant smile and patting the
katana
and
wakizashi
on her hip.

Jack tied off the dressing and clipped her
breastplate back into position.

‘Are you ready to go?’ asked
Miyuki, having signed to Yori and Benkei their plan to run.

Nodding, Jack slipped an arm round Akiko and
helped her to her feet. Miyuki checked the watchtower and village roofs one last time.
‘On my signal … three … two …’

‘Wait!’ exclaimed Saburo.
‘We
can’t
retreat.’

Jack and his friends stared in dismay as the
wooden bridge burst into flames.

‘This is an ambush!’ said
Miyuki, her tone grave. ‘And a well-planned one at that.’

52
 
 

The absence of the villagers; the fortified
watchtower; the spiked fence blocking the alley – and now the sabotaged bridge. In
hindsight, it was all so obvious. They’d walked straight into a trap.

‘What are we going to do?’ asked
Saburo.

‘We fight our way free,’ Akiko
replied, clenching her teeth against the pain and drawing her
katana
.

‘But
who
are we
fighting?’ said Miyuki, her eyes sweeping the deserted street.
‘They’re hidden like ninja!’

Jack knew of only one person who could be
responsible for such devious planning.

The roof above them creaked. They looked up
to see an archer glaring down, an arrow targeted on Saburo. The archer drew back his
bow, his task as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. A
shuriken
spun upwards,
slicing through the hemp bowstring. The metal star lodged in the archer’s chest as
the huge bow sprang apart in his hands and the arrow dropped harmlessly to the ground.
Losing his footing, the injured archer tumbled head first into the alley to land with a
bone-snapping crunch.

‘Get the bow!’ said Akiko.
‘He should have a spare string in his quiver.’

Jack rushed over, but the bamboo shaft had
cracked on impact. Instead, he wrenched Miyuki’s
shuriken
from the dead
archer’s chest. They’d need every weapon they could get their hands on to
survive this battle.

He checked the man’s kimono for a
kamon
, but found no identifying crests. But he did find a knife.

‘What’s Benkei up to?’
exclaimed Saburo, directing their attention to the other side of the road.

Benkei had tipped over the wooden butt,
emptying out the remains of the water. Yori was crawling inside, swiftly followed by
Benkei himself. They righted the barrel and began to shuffle across the street, Yori
poking the end of his
shakujō
through the bunghole.

‘They’re crazy!’ uttered
Saburo, as arrows rained down, blasting the barrel in a hailstorm of death.

Splinters flew in all directions, but Yori
and Benkei were cocooned safely inside. Or so Jack hoped. He could see some of the
arrows had penetrated almost halfway up their shafts. They heard a muffled yelp and the
barrel shuffled faster. Sections of it began to disintegrate under the relentless
onslaught and Jack caught a glimpse of a pair of terrified eyes. By the time the water
butt reached the alleyway, it had a coat of arrows so thick that it looked like a
swollen porcupine.

Tossing off their improvised and crumbling
armour, Benkei and Yori dived into the alleyway. Benkei lay on his front, clasping his
rear, a red patch staining his kimono.

‘Next time I suggest an idea like
that, Yori,’ he groaned, ‘tell me to shut up!’

‘Don’t worry, I will,’ Yori
replied, several drops of blood marking his face and arms where the tips of the
arrowheads had pierced him.

‘That’s some acupuncture
treatment!’ said Saburo, handing Yori his
shakujō
.

Jack pulled Benkei to his feet, giving him
the knife he’d found. ‘And for your next trick can you magic us out of
here?’

‘I wish I could,
nanban
,’ said Benkei, swallowing uneasily as he stared over Jack’s
shoulder.

The dread in his eyes made Jack turn to the
street. The road was no longer empty. A band of samurai, five warriors wide and four
deep, stood battle-ready with weapons drawn.

‘It looks as if the arrows were just
to soften us up!’ remarked Saburo.

Miyuki frantically searched for another way
out, but the windows overlooking the alley were all barred shut from inside. She tried
to scale the spiked fence and cursed as she cut her hand.