The Ring Of Water Part 1

The Ring of Water.

by Chris Bradford.

THE LETTER.

j.a.pan, 1614 My dearest Jess, I hope this letter reaches you one day. You must believe I've been lost at sea all these years. But you'll be glad to know that I am alive and in good health.

Father and I reached the j.a.pans in August 1611, but I am sad to tell you he was killed in an attack upon our s.h.i.+p, the Alexandria. I alone survived.

For these past three years, I've been living in the care of a j.a.panese warrior, Masamoto Takes.h.i.+, at his samurai school in Kyoto. He has been very kind to me, but life has not been easy.

An a.s.sa.s.sin, a ninja known as Dragon Eye, was hired to steal our father's rutter (you no doubt remember how important this navigational logbook was to our father?). The ninja was successful in his mission. However, with the help of my samurai friends, I've managed to get it back.

This same ninja was the one who murdered our father. And while it may not bring you much comfort, I can a.s.sure you the a.s.sa.s.sin is now dead. Justice has been delivered. But the ninja's death doesn't bring back our father I miss him so much and could do with his guidance and protection at this time.

j.a.pan has been split by civil war and foreigners like myself are no longer welcome. I am a fugitive. On the run for my life. I now journey south through this strange and exotic land to the port of Nagasaki in the hope that I may find a s.h.i.+p bound for England.

The Tokaido Road upon which I travel, however, is fraught with danger and I have many enemies on my trail. But do not fear for my safety. Masamoto has trained me as a samurai warrior and I will fight to return home to you.

One day I do hope I can tell you about my adventures in person...

Until then, dear sister, may G.o.d keep you safe.

Your brother, Jack P.S. Since first writing this letter at the end of spring, I've been kidnapped by ninja. But I discovered that they were not the enemy I thought they were. In fact, they saved my life and taught me about the Five Rings: the five great elements of the universe Earth, Water, Fire, Wind and Sky. I now know ninjutsu skills that go beyond anything I learnt as a samurai. But, because of the circ.u.mstances of our father's death, I still struggle to fully embrace the Way of the Ninja...

1.

THE AMULET.

j.a.pan, autumn 1614 For one terrifying moment Jack remembered nothing.

He had no idea where he was, what had happened to him, what he was supposed to be doing. He didn't even know who who he was. Desperately, like a drowning man, he clung on to any memory he had. he was. Desperately, like a drowning man, he clung on to any memory he had.

My name is Jack Fletcher... from London, England... I'm fifteen... I have a little sister, Jess... I'm a rigging monkey on-board a trading s.h.i.+p, the Jess... I'm a rigging monkey on-board a trading s.h.i.+p, the Alexandria... Alexandria... No! I'm a samurai. I trained at a warrior school in Kyoto... the No! I'm a samurai. I trained at a warrior school in Kyoto... the Niten Ichi Ry... Niten Ichi Ry...BUT I'm a ninja too... That can't be right the ninja Dragon Eye killed my father!

Jack's head throbbed and he felt himself blacking out again. He tried to fight the sinking sensation, but didn't have the strength to resist. His fragmented mind was slipping away, dragged back into unconsciousness.

An incessant drip... drip... drip drip... drip... drip of water brought him round. Through the dense fog clouding his mind, Jack became aware of rain. Heavy rain, pummelling the wet earth and drowning out all other sounds. Forcing his eyes open, Jack discovered he was lying on a rough bed of straw. Water was seeping through a thatched roof and falling on to his face. of water brought him round. Through the dense fog clouding his mind, Jack became aware of rain. Heavy rain, pummelling the wet earth and drowning out all other sounds. Forcing his eyes open, Jack discovered he was lying on a rough bed of straw. Water was seeping through a thatched roof and falling on to his face.

The drip was infuriating. But Jack's body ached so much he struggled to s.h.i.+ft himself out of the way. Turning his head to one side, he groaned with pain and came face to face with a cow. Chewing morosely on some cud, the animal stared back at him, clearly begrudging the fact that she had to share her lodgings. As far as Jack could tell, the cow was the only other occupant of the small stable.

Painfully easing himself up on one elbow, the room swimming before his eyes, Jack felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He retched on to the straw-strewn floor, green bile spewing from his mouth. The cow was even less impressed by this undignified display and moved away.

Beside the improvised straw bed, someone had left him a jug of water. Jack sat up and gratefully had a drink, was.h.i.+ng his mouth out before taking a large gulp. Swallowing proved difficult. His throat was raw, the acidic contents of his stomach having burnt their way out. He took another sip, more carefully this time, and the pain eased a little.

Jack realized he was a mess. His lower lip was split, his left eye swollen. Dark bruises covered his arms and legs, while his ribs felt sore, though on inspection thankfully not broken.

How did I get like this?

He was dressed in a dirty ragged kimono that certainly wasn't his. The last time he could recall he was wearing the blue robes of a komuso komuso, a Monk of Emptiness, as part of a ninja disguise allowing him to pa.s.s freely through j.a.pan. He'd been making his way to the port of Nagasaki in the south, hoping to find a s.h.i.+p bound for England and home to his little sister, Jess.

Panic overwhelmed him. Where are all my belongings? Where are all my belongings?

Jack's eyes darted around the stable in search of his swords and pack. But, apart from the cow, a pile of straw and a few rusty farm tools, they were nowhere to be seen.

Calm down, he told himself. Someone has been kind enough to leave me water. That someone may also have my possessions. Someone has been kind enough to leave me water. That someone may also have my possessions.

With a trembling hand, Jack took another swig from the jug, hoping the drink would clear his head. But try as he might he had no memory of the last few days. Jack knew he'd left the ninja village in the mountains and was sure he'd managed to reach the borders of Iga Province unopposed. But beyond that he had no recollection.

Outside, through the open doorway, Jack noticed the rain was letting up. He a.s.sumed it was morning, although the sky was so dark with thunderclouds it could easily have been the evening. He had a choice he could wait for whoever had given him the water to appear, or he could take action and find his possessions himself.

As Jack sat there, summoning up the energy to stand, he vaguely became aware of something clasped in his left hand. Opening his fingers, he found a green silk pouch, embroidered in golden thread with the emblem of a wreath and three kanji kanji characters: characters:[image] . Inside the little bag was what felt like a rectangular piece of wood. Jack recognized the object, but for a moment its name eluded him... . Inside the little bag was what felt like a rectangular piece of wood. Jack recognized the object, but for a moment its name eluded him...

An omamori. omamori. That's it! A Buddhist amulet. That's it! A Buddhist amulet.

Sensei Yamada, his Zen philosophy master at the Yamada, his Zen philosophy master at the Niten Ichi Ry Niten Ichi Ry, had given him one before he'd set off on his journey. It was meant to grant him protection.

But this wasn't his omamori omamori. His amulet had a red silk bag.

So whose was this?

2.

ARREST.

Jack staggered out of the stable. Swaying with the exertion, his legs gave away beneath him and he collapsed into the mud. For a while he just let the cool rainwater wash over his face until he felt revived enough to try again.

The stable backed on to a simple wooden building, one storey high, with a thatched roof and bamboo walls. There was a single doorway at its rear and Jack made this his next goal. Pulling himself to his feet, he stumbled and half fell towards the entrance. With a final lurch across the yard, he reached the shoji shoji door, hanging on to its frame with relief. door, hanging on to its frame with relief.

Why am I so weak? Jack wondered as he recovered his breath. Jack wondered as he recovered his breath.

Sliding open the door, he stepped inside a tiny kitchen. A pot of fish-noodle soup simmered away over a fire. Ahead was another doorway in which hung a white cotton curtain, split vertically down its centre. Peeking through the gap, Jack saw he was in a roadside tea house. Straw mats were laid upon a raised floor and immediately before him was a counter stocked with green tea and rice wine. There were a few low wooden tables, but otherwise the establishment was unfurnished and basic. One wall was open to the elements, protected solely by a large curtain. The wind rippled in waves along the sodden cloth.

In the far corner Jack spotted an elderly man in an ap.r.o.n, presumably the owner. Short with spindly legs and thinning hair, the man was haranguing a customer who looked rather the worse for wear. In a plain black kimono marked only with the mon mon emblem of a white camellia flower, the customer had a ragged beard, wayward dark hair and bloodshot eyes. On the floor next to him were a wide-brimmed straw hat and two battleworn swords a emblem of a white camellia flower, the customer had a ragged beard, wayward dark hair and bloodshot eyes. On the floor next to him were a wide-brimmed straw hat and two battleworn swords a katana katana and a shorter-bladed and a shorter-bladed wakizas.h.i.+ wakizas.h.i.+. Though they weren't Jack's, he knew that the pairing of swords, a daisho daisho, signified the customer's status as a samurai.

'You must pay up and go!' the owner was saying in a firm tone. But judging from the way he was wringing his hands he was scared of the warrior. And rightly so the samurai were the ruling cla.s.s in j.a.pan, and the old man, as a lowly tea-house owner, could easily have his head cut off for not showing the appropriate respect.

Ignoring him, the samurai took an irritable swig from his cup.

'I'll summon the local dos.h.i.+n dos.h.i.+n officers,' the owner threatened. officers,' the owner threatened.

The samurai, mumbling something incoherent, slammed a coin on to the table.

'I'm afraid... that's not enough,' said the owner, his voice wavering as his bravado almost broke. 'You've had three three jugs of jugs of sake sake since last night!' since last night!'

Grunting, the samurai fumbled in his kimono sleeves for more money. Another two coins were produced, but he lost his grip on them and the money rolled across the floor. s.n.a.t.c.hing up the coins, the owner turned back to the samurai. 'Now you must leave.'

The samurai scowled at him. 'I've paid... for my drink,' he slurred, clasping a sake sake jug to his chest. 'I intend to finish it... all of it.' jug to his chest. 'I intend to finish it... all of it.'

The owner appeared unhappy, but the thunderous look in the samurai's eyes dissuaded him from pressing the matter any further. Retreating with a scant bow, the owner hurried away to serve the only other customer in the establishment, a middle-aged man with a moustache.

Jack was wondering how to get the attention of the owner when he heard a shocked gasp. A girl, not much older than fourteen, had appeared beside the counter and was staring at him in wide-eyed alarm. Slim-faced, with dark hair tied into a bun, she held a tray of teacups that shook audibly in her trembling hands. Jack remembered how appalling he must look and tried to rea.s.sure her with a smile. But it hurt his face to even do that.

The girl, putting down the tray, soon recovered herself. She beckoned Jack to enter and sit at a nearby table. Jack was reluctant, concerned about revealing his presence to the samurai. But she was insistent and led him to his seat before disappearing into the kitchen. Jack needn't have worried about the samurai. He was so drunk he didn't even look up. The other customer glanced over in surprise, not so much at Jack's dishevelled appearance as at his foreign blond hair and blue eyes. But with typical j.a.panese discretion, he merely gave a curt bow and continued his conversation with the owner.

The girl returned with a steaming bowl of noodle soup. Despite the nausea he'd experienced earlier, Jack was ravenous and needed the food to recover his strength.

'Arigato gozaimasu,' he said, bowing and thanking the girl.

Her mouth fell open in astonishment. 'You speak j.a.panese?'

Jack nodded. He had his best friend, Akiko, to be grateful to for that. After being stranded in j.a.pan, he was first taught the language by a Portuguese priest, Father Lucius. But the man died not long after his arrival and Akiko took over his lessons. Jack had spent many hours with her beneath the sakura sakura tree in her mother's garden in Toba, learning about the j.a.panese way of life. And although he'd lost his memory of the last few days there were some things he would never forget Akiko's kindness was one of them. tree in her mother's garden in Toba, learning about the j.a.panese way of life. And although he'd lost his memory of the last few days there were some things he would never forget Akiko's kindness was one of them.

Looking at the bowl before him, Jack said, 'I'm sorry. I don't have any money.'

'It doesn't matter,' said the girl, placing a wooden spoon on the table.

'Thank you,' he replied, savouring the soup's mouth-watering aroma.

The girl turned to leave, but Jack stopped her.

'Please...' Jack called, so many questions rus.h.i.+ng into his head at once, 'did you leave me the jug of water?'

Offering a shy smile, the girl nodded.

'You're very kind. Perhaps you can tell me where I am?'

'Kamo,' she replied, and, seeing the bewildered expression on his face, continued. 'It's a village on the banks of the Kizu River. We're not far from the main town of Kizu itself.'

'Am I still in the Iga mountains?'

'No, they're some two days' walk east. This is Yamas.h.i.+ro Province.'

At least Jack knew he'd made some progress on his journey home. 'Did you you find me like this?' he asked, indicating his injuries. find me like this?' he asked, indicating his injuries.

'No, my father did,' replied the girl, glancing over at the tea-house owner who now stood behind his counter, observing Jack. The previous customer with the moustache had departed.

'He found you yesterday morning, left for dead beside the river.'

She looked at Jack's swollen eye and split lip with concern.

'I'm OK,' said Jack, putting on a brave face for her benefit. 'Do you know if your father has any of my belongings?'

The girl shook her head apologetically. 'It was just you.'

'Junko!' called her father sternly. 'The soup's boiling over.'

Bowing to Jack, Junko smiled. 'You're lucky to be alive,' she said, before hurrying into the kitchen.

Alive, yes... but for how long? thought Jack. thought Jack.

He had nothing. No money to buy food. No clothes of his own. No disguise to elude his pursuers. No friends to help him. No swords to protect himself with. And he couldn't rely on this girl and her father's charity for more than a few days. After that, he'd be on his own.

Jack took some mouthfuls of soup, wincing as his cut lip stung. But the food's nouris.h.i.+ng warmth began to revive him. By the time he finished the meal, he was feeling a little better, and much stronger.

With some more rest, he thought, I might remember what happened to me. I might remember what happened to me.

His most distressing concern was the loss of his father's prized possession, the rutter rutter. This logbook was the only only means of navigating the world's oceans safely and therefore a highly valuable item. His was one of the few accurate means of navigating the world's oceans safely and therefore a highly valuable item. His was one of the few accurate rutter rutters in existence, and its importance reached far beyond its use as a navigational instrument. The country in possession of such a logbook could in effect rule the seas by controlling the trade routes between nations. His father, the Pilot of the Alexandria Alexandria, had warned him never never to let the to let the rutter rutter fall into the wrong hands and Jack had spent the last three years protecting the logbook with his life. It had been stolen once and recovered at great cost, his good friend Yamato sacrificing his life to get it back from the villainous ninja Dragon Eye. So, whatever had happened to Jack this time, the logbook was most definitely in the wrong hands. The question was fall into the wrong hands and Jack had spent the last three years protecting the logbook with his life. It had been stolen once and recovered at great cost, his good friend Yamato sacrificing his life to get it back from the villainous ninja Dragon Eye. So, whatever had happened to Jack this time, the logbook was most definitely in the wrong hands. The question was whose hands whose hands?

The only clue to his predicament was the amulet. He studied its green silk pouch. The wreath logo meant nothing to him and, although Akiko had taught him some kanji kanji, his mind was still so addled he didn't recognize any of the symbols.

Junko brought him a second bowl of soup, which he devoured with equal relish. Draining the last of its contents, Jack decided to ask her about the omamori omamori. It was most likely Junko's or her father's, a charm they'd given him to encourage healing. But if it wasn't then she might know who the amulet belonged to and this could lead him to his possessions and the rutter rutter.

As he went to beckon Junko over, the curtain s.h.i.+elding the tea house from the road was pulled aside and four armed men entered, followed by the moustached customer. They were dressed officially in black haori haori jackets, tight-fitting trousers and dark blue jackets, tight-fitting trousers and dark blue tabi tabi socks. Around their heads they wore socks. Around their heads they wore hachimaki hachimaki, bandanas reinforced with metal strips. Each man bore a sword on his hip and in his left hand carried a jutte jutte, an iron truncheon with a small p.r.o.ng parallel to the main shaft.

Despite their ominous presence, the owner appeared pleased to see them. 'I didn't really think any dos.h.i.+n dos.h.i.+n would come for him. Not in this weather,' he said to his daughter. Then, pointing, the owner declared, 'He's over there.' would come for him. Not in this weather,' he said to his daughter. Then, pointing, the owner declared, 'He's over there.'

'We're not here for him him,' snorted the dos.h.i.+n dos.h.i.+n leader, looking down his nose at the drunken samurai who now lay sprawled across his table. Nodding in Jack's direction, the leader, looking down his nose at the drunken samurai who now lay sprawled across his table. Nodding in Jack's direction, the dos.h.i.+n dos.h.i.+n announced, 'We've come to arrest the announced, 'We've come to arrest the gaijin gaijin.'

3.

RONIN.

Before Jack could react, the four dos.h.i.+n dos.h.i.+n surrounded him, their lethal surrounded him, their lethal jutte jutte at the ready. Both the owner and Junko looked startled by this turn of events. at the ready. Both the owner and Junko looked startled by this turn of events.

'Come with us, gaijin gaijin,' ordered the leading officer.