The Way of the Dragon Page 2

  The three of them made their way over to the counter, the eyes of every customer following them.

  ‘Excuse me?’ asked Yamato of the proprietor, a compact barrel of a man with meat slabs for hands. ‘Do you know where we can find Orochi-san?’

  The man grunted and gave a single nod of his head towards the far corner of the bar. In a darkened recess lit by a single candle sat a hunched man, a wooden crutch propped up behind him.

  ‘May we talk with you a moment?’ asked Yamato as they approached.

  ‘Depends on who’s buying,’ wheezed the man, looking them up and down and clearly wondering what a spiky-haired boy of samurai status was doing with a pretty girl and a foreigner in such a disreputable bar.

  ‘I guess we are,’ replied Yamato, bowing in acknowledgement.

  ‘Then you’re welcome to join me. Even the gaijin.’

  Jack ignored the insulting term for a foreigner. This man was their only lead and they needed him on their side. Besides, it could only work to their advantage if Orochi wasn’t aware that Jack spoke fluent Japanese.

  The man raised a deformed-looking left hand at the proprietor and asked for saké. With the drink ordered and Orochi having apparently accepted his three guests, conversation and gaming resumed throughout the bar.

  Jack, Akiko and Yamato sat cross-legged on the opposite side of the low table, while the serving girl delivered a large flask of saké and a single small cup. She took payment from Yamato, then left.

  ‘I must apologize for my terrible table manners,’ Orochi wheezed genially to Akiko, indicating his dirty right leg resting upon a cushion, the sole of his foot in full view. ‘I don’t mean to insult you, but I’ve been crippled from birth, you see.’

  ‘It’s not a problem,’ she replied, pouring Orochi his drink, as was the custom if a woman was present.

  Picking up the cup with his good hand, Orochi knocked it back in one go. Akiko refilled it.

  ‘We’d like some information,’ began Akiko, keeping her voice low as Orochi reached for his saké again, ‘about Dokugan Ryu’s whereabouts.’

  Orochi’s hand faltered at the mention of Dragon Eye’s name, but then he took the cup and downed its contents.

  ‘This saké’s horrible!’ he complained, coughing loudly and thumping his chest. ‘To get the stuff you’re after, though, costs a lot more.’

  He gave Yamato a meaningful look, while Akiko poured him another cup. Yamato understood the implication and nodded to Akiko. She removed a large milky-white pearl from the sleeve of her kimono and placed it on the table before Orochi.

  ‘That should more than cover your costs,’ Yamato stated.

  The man’s dark eyes gleamed at the sight of the pearl, then darted around the room to check no one was paying them attention. Satisfied, Orochi’s mouth broke into a smile as crooked as his hand.

  He reached for the pearl.

  Yamato grabbed hold of the man’s wrist.

  ‘I usually pay on delivery of an order,’ observed Yamato.

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Orochi, withdrawing his hand. Then, in a low voice, he whispered, ‘If I were you, I’d visit the village of –’

  A bell tinkled as the entrance shoji slid open and two new customers came in. Orochi stopped speaking and waited for them to be seated at the counter. Jack noticed one of the men had a little finger missing as he beckoned to the proprietor to place his order.

  ‘You were saying?’ prompted Yamato.

  For a moment Orochi appeared distracted, but his attention quickly returned to the pearl.

  ‘Yes… would you excuse me? The call of nature,’ he said, reaching for his crutch. ‘Takes me a little while to get there, so when I feel the need I have to go. I’m sure you understand.’

  As Orochi rose to his feet, he fell against the table, knocking over the saké flask and spilling its contents across the surface.

  ‘This weakness in my leg is insufferable,’ he mumbled, by way of an apology. ‘I’ll be back in a moment. Girl, clear this up!’

  Bent double, Orochi hobbled over to the back door. The serving girl hurried to their table and began to clear up the mess. As she did so, Jack noticed something was missing.

  ‘Where’s the pearl?’

  They looked on the floor and then, with a dread realization, stared at one another. Orochi had stolen it!

  The three of them ran out of the back door.

  Orochi was nowhere to be seen. Then Akiko caught a glimpse of a figure entering the bamboo forest, which backed on to the inn. Surprisingly nimble, Orochi had disappeared into its depths before any of them managed to reach the forest edge. They plunged in after him and gave chase… until the thief vanished into the thicket.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ said Akiko, interrupting Jack’s search for Orochi.

  ‘Hear what?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Shhh, listen!’

  They all fell silent.

  There was the gentle wash of noise, like a wave upon the shore, as the leaves rustled high in the canopy. This peaceful sound was punctuated by the occasional creak of bamboo stems rubbing against one another, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to Jack’s ears.

  ‘Can’t you hear it?’ she insisted, before whispering, ‘Hold your breath.’

  Mouths closed, they all looked at one another.

  Someone could still be heard breathing.

  The sensitivity training Sensei Kano, their blind bōjutsu master at samurai school, had taught them paid off once again. Jack immediately pinpointed the source of the sound and crept towards it.

  Suddenly Orochi exploded from the thicket, barely five paces ahead of Jack. He’d been hiding beside them all along.

  ‘Come back!’ shouted Jack, his cry disturbing a bird high up in the canopy.

  ‘Go on!’ Akiko urged, too weary to give chase. ‘I’ll look after the bags.’

  Yamato threw down his knapsack and hurried after Jack, who was already racing after Orochi. Then the man ducked down again into the thicket.

  Jack kept going. He wouldn’t be fooled this time. As he hit the spot where Orochi disappeared, his feet went from under him and he tumbled head over heels down a steep slope.

  Rolling back on to his feet at the bottom, he found himself on a forest track. A few moments later, Yamato joined him. Forewarned of the danger by Jack’s cry, he’d managed to avoid falling down the slope himself.

  ‘Which way did he go?’ asked Yamato.

  ‘I don’t know. I was too busy working out which way was up!’ Jack replied irritably, brushing dead leaves from his hair.

  ‘Right, you head that way and I’ll go in the opposite direction,’ Yamato commanded. ‘Shout if you find him.’

  Yamato sprinted off.

  Jack was about to do the same, when he heard the sound of snapping bamboo. He spun round.

  ‘I know you’re there,’ said Jack.

  Orochi got unsteadily to his feet with the help of his crutch and emerged from the undergrowth.

  ‘Ah! You understand Japanese. That’s good.’

  He gave Jack a pitiful bow and hobbled towards him.

  ‘You wouldn’t hurt a cripple, would you?’ he pleaded, his misshapen right hand outstretched in surrender.

  ‘You’re not lame!’ exclaimed Jack, studying the man carefully. ‘Wasn’t it your left hand that was deformed before?’

  Orochi smiled his crooked smile.

  ‘True. But I had you all fooled, didn’t I?’ he replied as he straightened his leg, stood to his full height and unclasped his twisted hand.

  With lightning speed, he pulled apart the shaft of his wooden crutch, revealing a jagged steel spike.

  Orochi drove the deadly weapon at Jack’s chest.

  2

  BLOW DART

  Only Jack’s samurai training prevented him getting skewered.

  He twisted his body sideways, the spike passing within a hair’s breadth of his heart. Without hesitating, Jack whipped the knife-edge of his right hand straight into his att
acker’s neck.

  Choking on the blow to his windpipe, Orochi staggered backwards against the bamboo. As he fought for breath, Jack went to finish him. But Orochi lashed out again with the spike and forced Jack into a tightly knit grove of bamboo stems. Confident of victory, Orochi launched the sharp end of the spike directly between Jack’s eyes.

  Hemmed in on either side by bamboo, Jack had nowhere to go but down. He dropped to his knees. There was a sickening crunch as the metal spike pierced the bamboo stem where his head had just been.

  Orochi swore in frustration, his weapon now stuck. Jack punched him hard in the stomach. Orochi grunted but refused to let go. Jack then grabbed the back of Orochi’s ankle in one hand and rammed his shoulder into the man’s gut, sweeping him off his feet.

  Orochi crashed to the ground, winded and dazed.

  Jack seized the opportunity to put the man into an arm-lock, but he hadn’t counted on Orochi still holding on to his weapon. Jerked free of the stem, the man was now swinging it towards Jack’s ribs. Jack blocked the strike but was knocked aside. In an instant Orochi was on top of him.

  ‘No escape this time, gaijin!’ spat Orochi, raising his weapon for the fatal blow.

  As the spike plunged towards his head, Jack scrabbled at the earth to get away. His fingers came across a loose piece of bamboo and he snatched it up to protect his face.

  The point pierced the stem, stopping just short of his right eyeball.

  Orochi yelled in fury and pushed down on the spike. Jack’s arms shook as he kept the deadly tip away. Orochi leant his full weight to the task but Jack was stronger, and when Orochi had fully committed Jack twisted sideways, wrenching the spike out of Orochi’s hand and causing him to fall forward face first into the earth.

  Throwing the spike deep into the thicket, Jack then pounced on Orochi before he could recover. He dropped his knee on to the man’s shoulder, twisting Orochi’s left arm into a lock.

  Orochi was pinned.

  He fought to get free, but Jack applied pressure to the man’s elbow joint. Orochi screamed in pain and immediately ceased moving.

  ‘Stop! Please! You’ll break my arm!’ he pleaded, spitting earth from his mouth.

  ‘Don’t struggle then,’ replied Jack, before calling for Yamato, his shout disturbing a large unseen bird in the canopy.

  Orochi attempted to escape, but Jack put on the lock again. Hard. Orochi whimpered and lay still.

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’ he moaned.

  ‘No, I’m not going to kill you,’ replied Jack. ‘I just want to know where Dragon Eye is. Then I’ll let you go.’

  ‘Telling you that is more than my life’s worth,’ the man spat. His eyes glanced nervously around as if he expected the ninja to appear at the very mention of his name.

  ‘Your life’s not worth much so far as I can tell,’ Jack retorted. ‘Besides, the pearl you stole should more than make up for it. In fact, I think you should return it until you tell me what I need to know.’

  Jack leant harder into the lock. Orochi cried out and, to Jack’s surprise, the small white pearl fell from his mouth.

  ‘You can have this back once you tell me where Dragon Eye is,’ said Jack, tucking the gem into his obi.

  ‘What if I don’t tell you?’

  ‘We’ll kill you.’

  ‘But you said –’

  ‘No, what I said was, I’m not going to kill you. But I can’t promise the same for my Japanese friends. As true-born samurai, they’d see it as their duty to rid the world of your sort.’

  Orochi swallowed, understanding the truth behind Jack’s words. They both knew that the samurai dealt out justice and, as a convicted thief and liar, Orochi would receive little mercy.

  ‘Let me go and I’ll tell you. I give you my word,’ promised Orochi reluctantly. ‘But you’re walking into your own grave.’

  Jack released him, glad that his ruse had worked. He knew full well that neither Yamato nor Akiko had the authority to kill a man for such a petty crime. ‘So, tell me, where can I find Dragon Eye?

  Orochi sat up and massaged his arm. ‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’

  ‘The Niten Ichi Ryū in Kyoto.’

  ‘You’re one of Masamoto Takeshi’s students!’ he exclaimed in wide-eyed wonder. ‘I’d heard rumours he’d adopted a gaijin boy, but I never dreamt the great Masamoto would train him to become a samurai –’

  ‘Stop wasting my time. Where’s Dragon Eye?’

  ‘You must have a death wish, young samurai, to go seeking that devil!’ breathed Orochi, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Last I heard, his ninja clan had settled on the west side of the Iga mountain range, close to the village of Shindo. Visit the Dragon Temple there and ask for –’

  Orochi stopped speaking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no sound emerged. His eyes went glassy, his gaze unfocused. Then he slumped to one side, twitching twice before lying dead still.

  ‘I warned you, Orochi!’ said Jack, taking a cautious step towards the prone figure. ‘No more tricks.’

  Wary of the man, Jack picked up a piece of bamboo and prodded Orochi with the tip. He got no reaction. Then he noticed a tiny dart sticking out of the man’s neck.

  A blow dart, poisoned to kill.

  Such a weapon could only mean… Jack spun round, bringing the bamboo stem up to defend himself.

  But he couldn’t see any ninja.

  That didn’t necessarily mean there was none. Ninja were trained in the art of stealth. There could be one, or a hundred assassins, hiding among the thicket.

  Jack tightened his grip on the bamboo. How he wished Masamoto hadn’t confiscated his samurai swords as part of his suspension from school. If there was ever a time Jack needed a blade, this was it.

  Jack listened hard for the slightest indication of an approaching assassin, but he could only hear the swish of leaves high up in the canopy and the creaking of bamboo. He retreated back into the tightly knit grove of stems for cover. As he did, there was a tiny phut sound and a thin dart struck the bamboo directly in front of his face.

  Jack hunched down lower. Peering between the stems, he desperately searched for the source of the poisoned darts. But the attacker was too well hidden.

  Hearing the sound of another bird taking flight, he glanced up and this time saw two dark-green shapes. Dressed in green shinobi shozoku, the ninja blended perfectly with their surroundings as they leapt cat-like between the uppermost stems of the forest to get a better fix on Jack.

  Gripping the bamboo with their legs, the two ninja raised their blowpipes and fired.

  3

  THE THIRD NINJA

  Jack bolted from his hiding place as the darts struck the bamboo grove on either side of him.

  Keeping his head low, he weaved in between the stems. He heard several more darts pierce the bamboo as he fled.

  But he didn’t look back.

  He hit the forest track and ran for his life.

  Eventually he slowed down, checking the canopy above and behind him. It was difficult to tell but it appeared he’d given the two ninja the slip. Jack hurried back in the direction of the village, worried that Akiko might also be in danger.

  Out of nowhere, a ninja dropped like a panther in front of him.

  Jack held up his improvised bamboo sword and prepared to defend himself.

  The ninja calmly raised his hands.

  But not in surrender. Both palms were armed with metal claws. The ninja’s shuko were used to aid climbing, but also proved lethal weapons, their four curved spikes capable of ripping through flesh and lacerating any enemy.

  Jack didn’t wait. He struck first.

  The ninja didn’t even flinch as the stem cut down towards his head.

  Then inexplicably Jack’s arms came to an abrupt halt.

  Glancing up, Jack saw that his improvised sword had collided with an overhanging bamboo stem. A long weapon was useless in such confined surroundings.

  The ninja hissed
and, in the blink of an eye, he swiped with his claws, catching both of Jack’s outstretched arms. Jack grimaced as eight bloody lines were scored into his skin, forcing him to drop the piece of bamboo.

  Ignoring the pain, Jack front-kicked the assassin in the chest.

  The ninja, not expecting such a powerful and rapid kick from a mere boy, was thrown backwards into a clump of bamboo. Jack followed up with a jumping side-kick, but the ninja leapt above it and shot up the bamboo stem like a monkey.

  Jack, recalling his own days as a rigging monkey on-board the Alexandria, grabbed hold of the bamboo as if it were a mast and clambered after the ninja. He pursued the assassin high into the canopy, astounding the ninja with his unexpected agility and confidence at climbing. The ninja fled.

  Jack jumped from stem to stem after him.

  At this height, the bamboo was green and flexible and Jack swayed towards his enemy. He caught him hard in the gut with a front kick. The ninja lost his grip under the force of the blow, crying out as he tumbled through the leaves to the ground far below.

  The ninja lay motionless, sprawled in the thicket, one leg twisted at an impossible angle, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

  He began to drop back down, when the second ninja suddenly emerged out of the foliage below him, brandishing a sword. Jack heard a sharp crack as the ninja sliced through the stem he was holding on to.

  Jack plummeted towards the earth, the wind whistling past his ears. His hands grabbed blindly for anything to break his fall. Somehow he caught hold of another stem, but this bamboo was young and bent under his weight. He continued to fall. The bamboo finally gave way and snapped. Gravity took hold and Jack dropped like a stone for the last five metres.

  The impact knocked all the breath out of him.

  As he lay there dazed, he heard something land close by.

  Glancing behind, he saw the green ninja stalking him, his shuko claws primed to strike and rip the skin from his back. Jack crawled on all fours, desperate to get away. The ninja crouched winding up to strike.