The Return of the Warrior Page 24
‘I thought I spotted you at the harvest festival,’ she explained, ‘but Sir Toby said it was my fevered imagination. Then I saw you in the courtyard and knew you’d returned. I tried to get out to find you, but my room was locked, as always.’
‘Sir Toby told me you had died!’ said Jack bitterly.
‘He’s a devil of a liar … and cruel,’ Jess muttered. ‘But now you’re back I have nothing to fear.’ Daring to loosen her embrace, she looked up at her brother. ‘Where’s Father?’
In that instant the elated smile on Jack’s face turned to ashes. ‘He didn’t –’ his voice caught in his throat – ‘he didn’t survive the voyage, Jess … We were attacked … he died protecting me …’
Jess buried her head in her brother’s chest, tears of woe now mixing with her former tears of joy. Their reunion was bittersweet indeed! Having lived with the tragedy for the past five years, Jack now felt a fresh wave of grief overwhelm him and he cried with her. How he wished his father could have been there for this moment. He would have wrapped his great arms round them, pulling not only him and his sister in, but their dear departed mother too, the whole family together … But it was not to be – nor would it ever be. Still, he had to be thankful for small miracles: Jess was alive and safe in his arms.
Their sobs gradually subsided and the joy of their reunion returned. Smiling, Jess glanced over at the two other people in the room, who were respectfully and quietly keeping their distance.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ she asked her brother.
‘Of course!’ replied Jack, opening his arms wide and beckoning his friends closer. ‘This is Akiko, and this is Yori. Without their help, love and loyalty, I’d never have survived Japan … let alone found you. They are my strength, my wisdom and my best friends.’
Akiko and Yori bowed to Jess. ‘We’re deeply honoured to meet you at last,’ said Yori.
Jess returned the bow. ‘I cannot thank you enough for bringing my brother home safe. I am forever in your debt.’
Akiko smiled kindly. ‘Be assured it is a debt that never needs to be repaid.’
‘But there are other debts that do need to be repaid!’ said a cruel voice from the fireplace.
Jack and his friends spun round to see Sir Toby enter through the priest hole, brandishing a pair of flintlock pistols. He wore the satisfied grin of a cat that had just cornered its prey. A moment later, the grim-faced servant they’d met on the stairs emerged into the room too, followed by … Sir Henry.
Jess retreated into Jack’s arms, her body trembling like a little bird’s.
‘Ah! A family reunion – how touching,’ said Sir Henry with a hollow smile.
‘Sir Henry! Explain yourself!’ demanded Jack, both angry and bemused at the apparent deceit of his benefactor. ‘Are you responsible for holding my sister prisoner? Why didn’t you tell me she was here?’
‘Holding her prisoner?’ said Sir Henry, making a show of being shocked. ‘What talk is this of prisoner? Jess is my betrothed – my future wife as soon as she comes of age.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Jack, his jaw dropping in abhorrence. He looked to his sister for a denial, but she couldn’t meet his eye.
‘It’s true, Jack,’ she replied meekly. ‘I had no choice, you see. He took possession of Father’s cottage to settle a debt he said our family owed him. I’d have been thrown out on to the streets, like Mrs Winters, if I hadn’t accepted his proposal. I had no money, the plague was rife – I’d have been dead within a month. You do see, don’t you?’
Jack felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He wrenched the silver locket from his neck and held it out to Sir Henry. ‘Was this your courtship gift to her?’
‘Why, yes!’ said Sir Henry, his eyes lighting up at the sight of it. ‘And it cost me a pretty penny too –’ His face suddenly soured. ‘Not that your ungrateful sister appreciated it, though. She’d lost it within a week!’
Jess, emboldened by the presence of her brother, replied, ‘No, sir – not “lost”. I gave it to Mrs Winters.’
Sir Henry’s cheeks flushed red with rage. ‘Why on earth would you do that, girl?’
‘So she could pawn it,’ explained Jess, holding his fierce gaze, ‘and keep herself from starving because of you!’
‘As my future wife, you’ll learn to respect me and my property!’ bellowed Sir Henry. He raised the back of his hand to strike her but Jack stepped between them, shielding his sister.
‘Mrs Winters was right,’ said Jack, as Sir Henry grudgingly backed down. ‘You are indeed a wolf in sheep’s clothing!’
‘Don’t be like that, Jack,’ said Sir Henry, his tone at once conciliatory. ‘I always say, family must come first, and one day you and I will be brothers-in-law.’
‘Over my dead body!’ snarled Jack. He advanced on Sir Henry but was warded off by one of Sir Toby’s pistols.
Jack now regretted leaving his rapier in his room for the masked ball. Yori was equally defenceless. Akiko was twitching to use the katana on her hip – but Sir Toby had his second pistol trained on her, his finger to the trigger. Fast as Akiko was with a sword, Jack doubted she’d beat a speeding bullet.
‘Oh, don’t talk of dead bodies. I hope it won’t come to that, Jack,’ said Sir Henry with a thin mean smile. ‘And, anyway, you have a debt to pay first.’
‘What debt? I owe you nothing!’ said Jack.
Sir Henry snorted in disagreement. ‘I made significant losses funding your father’s trading expedition to the Japans. In fact, it’s his fault I’m bankrupt now. The sale of his cottage barely covered a single interest payment. The debt is hereditary. So, as his son and the sole survivor of the shipwrecked Alexandria, you carry the burden of your father’s debt.’
‘My father wasn’t to blame for your losses!’ argued Jack. ‘As an investor, you knew from the start the risks of such an expedition. Father was employed to pilot the fleet, not guarantee you returns on your investment.’
‘He may have piloted the fleet on its way there, but he didn’t pilot it back, did he?’ countered Sir Henry. ‘The way I see it, your father is directly responsible for the trading mission’s failure. You yourself told me that he navigated the fleet to the wrong port!’
‘Not true! We were blown off-course by the storm,’ argued Jack. ‘He died defending the ship from pirates!’
‘Hmm, such a tragic loss … But there is no avoiding the fact,’ Sir Henry went on, ignoring Jack’s protests, ‘that, as his sole surviving male heir, you inherit that debt. A debt you will repay a thousandfold by sailing back to the Japans and recouping my losses.’
‘I won’t go,’ stated Jack boldly.
Sir Henry narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh yes you will, because you see, Jack – Jess is your collateral. My guarantee that you’ll return from Japan with a handsome payload. If you succeed with this trading mission, I’ll consider ending my engagement to your sweet sister –’ he gave Jess an oily smile – ‘as much as that would break my heart.’
‘You don’t have a heart!’ Jess shot back. ‘Your only love is money.’
Sir Henry shrugged off the accusation. ‘And your brother’s love for you, my dear, is why he will return to Japan.’
Jack glared at Sir Henry. He knew he was being emotionally blackmailed, yet what could he do about it? ‘But I’ll be away for at least two years, if not more!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of her,’ replied Sir Henry.
Jack clenched his fists. Although he lacked a weapon, he just might be quick enough to get his hands round Sir Henry’s throat before Sir Toby could get a shot in. Akiko, sensing he was preparing to attack, flexed her fingers in readiness to unsheathe her katana. Yori began drawing in a deep breath, filling his lungs for a kiai strike …
Then from the courtyard below came the sound of panicked screams. Footsteps clattered up the echoing staircase, then pounded along the corridor. A moment later a wide-eyed and gasping servant scrambled through the fireplace into the room.
The servant, regaining his breath, gulped. ‘Sir Henry – plague doctors!’
‘Let us out!’ shouted Jack, hammering his fists on the bedroom door. At gunpoint, they had been forcibly marched back to Rose’s bedroom, where all six of them – Jack and his sister, Akiko, Yori, Signor Horatio and Rose – were now being held captive. ‘We need our weapons!’
From the other side of the door, Sir Edmund grunted a laugh. ‘I’m sure you do. That’s exactly why Sir Henry has you locked up, you dullard!’
Jack beat his fists upon the wood again. ‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with!’ he insisted. ‘You need our help.’
More snorts of laughter, and this time Sir Francis replied. ‘You’re the one in need of help, Jack. You’ll be strung up by your neck, good and proper this time. Reckon they’ll hang, draw and quarter you!’
Jack grabbed the door latch and rattled it – but it was futile. The lock was cast iron and the door solid oak. It wouldn’t budge an inch. ‘They’re not plague doctors,’ he cried. ‘They’re NINJAS!’
‘What did he say?’ mumbled Sir Francis to his friend.
‘I think he said they’re whingers!’ replied Sir Edmund, before collapsing into a fit of laughter.
Jack kicked out at the door. ‘Idiots!’ he muttered.
‘Aren’t we safer in here?’ said Jess, who was perched at the foot of Rose’s bed. ‘I mean, if we can’t get out … then those ninjas can’t get in either.’
Jack shook his head. ‘We’re like fish in a barrel in this room. Without our weapons, those ninjas will hunt us down and slaughter us.’
‘I still have my rapier, signor,’ reminded Signor Horatio. In Sir Henry’s haste to deal with the plague doctors, he’d overlooked the sword master tending to Rose at her bedside. Rose was now propped up against the pillows. Her cheeks had regained some colour and her strength was gradually returning.
‘One sword against four ninjas? Our chances aren’t good,’ said Akiko, shaking her head. ‘We’re dealing with trained assassins.’
‘What about the window?’ suggested Rose, wheezing slightly. ‘Can’t one of you climb out … and over to the next bedroom?’
‘Maybe,’ said Jack. He looked at Akiko, knowing that out of all of them she had the necessary skills.
‘I’ll try,’ she said, securing her kimono.
Yori was already peering through the glass. ‘There’s something very strange going on …’
Jack and Akiko joined Yori at the casement window. Under the silver sheen of the moon, the four plague doctors stood in a line, their black gowns flapping in the chill breeze like crows’ wings. Moonlight was reflected, ghostlike, in their glass eyes; their beaked masks appeared deathly white, terrifying to behold. Sir Henry’s guests were fleeing down the gravel paths, keeping as far away as possible from these harbingers of pestilence. But it was the very disorder of their flight that threw into sharp contrast the plague doctors’ unnatural stillness.
Akiko frowned. ‘They’re not moving …’
‘But why not?’ asked Yori, squinting to get a better look. ‘Do you think they’re waiting for everyone to leave before attacking us?’
Studying the layout of the ornamental garden below, Jack’s eyes widened in grim comprehension. ‘No!’ he gasped. ‘They’re not moving because they’re statues! The ninjas have covered them with their plague doctor clothes. It’s a trick!’
Suddenly a shadow appeared at the window, only a pair of eyes gleaming in the dark. A small diamond of glass was knocked from its lead frame and a blowpipe pushed through.
‘Watch out!’ cried Yori, throwing himself at Jack. They both fell to the floor as a poisoned dart shot out of the pipe. Missing Jack by a fraction, the dart embedded itself in the nearest post of Rose’s four-poster bed. Jess let out a startled cry and dived under the bed for cover.
Before the ninja could reload another dart, Akiko spun on her heel and back-kicked the casement window. Glass shattered and the frame flew open, sending the ninja plummeting earthwards. A second later, they heard a distant splash as the assassin fell into the moat. Akiko leant out of the broken lattice to see the dark figure swimming for the bank. ‘He’ll be back,’ she warned. ‘Have no doubt of that!’
‘Hey, what’s going on in there?’ shouted Sir Francis, his voice muffled by the door.
‘Nothing,’ Signor Horatio replied casually. ‘I’ve just dropped the water jug, that’s all.’
‘Thanks for saving me,’ said Jack, as Yori helped him to his feet.
Yori smiled. ‘It’s becoming something of a habit here in England!’
‘At least we have a way out now,’ said Akiko, inspecting the brickwork for possible handholds.
However, before she could climb out of the window, they heard Sir Edmund’s tremulous voice in the corridor. ‘Wh-wh-who goes there? Relight the lamps! Show yourself!’
From the other side of the door, there was a pained gasp then a heavy whump, followed by a high-pitched whimpering. A key rattled in the lock and the latch began to lift. Jack, Akiko, Yori and Signor Horatio took up a defensive guard round the bed as the door swung open. Sir Edmund’s portly figure filled the doorway. He wore a petrified, dead-eyed expression. The iron key fell from his hand with a clatter, then he toppled forward and landed face first on the floorboards, a tantō embedded in his back.
Behind the bleeding body of Sir Edmund lay his companion, Sir Francis, still dressed in his costume armour. Only his feet were visible through the doorway, the muscles spasming in a gruesome death twitch. The corridor was swallowed in darkness, the lamps snuffed out. From the gloom a shape detached itself and materialized into a shadow warrior. Dressed head to toe in black, the ninja slipped serpent-like into the room and retrieved his knife. Hissing, he then drew a razor-sharp ninjatō from the sheath upon his back.
‘God help us!’ breathed Jess, her eyes round with fear. ‘’Tis truly a demon!’
‘Leave this one to me,’ said Signor Horatio, unsheathing his rapier and advancing. ‘You get your weapons.’
‘Be careful,’ warned Jack as their sword master prepared to engage. ‘Never underestimate a ninja.’
Signor Horatio threw Jack a cocky wink. ‘And never underestimate un Italiano!’
With that, he launched himself at the assassin. A blaze of lightning-quick lunges took the ninja by surprise and drove him back through the doorway. Steel rang against steel, the duel echoing down the corridor.
As soon as the way was clear, Jack, Akiko and Yori dashed to their rooms, collected their weapons and regrouped in Rose’s bedroom.
‘What’s the plan, then?’ asked Yori, the rings of his shakujō jingling nervously in his grip.
Tying off his obi, Jack secured his daishō to his hip. ‘We either keep running …’ he said, sliding the shuriken he’d retrieved from their last encounter with the ninja into a fold of his belt – ‘or face down these ninjas once and for all.’
‘I vote we take a stand,’ said Akiko, armed with her yumi and a sheath of arrows on her back.
Jack drew his katana. ‘A last stand!’
He glanced at Yori, who looked less certain, but he nodded his agreement anyway. Jack picked up the iron key and handed it to his friend. ‘Stay with Rose and my sister. Block that window and lock the door behind us.’
Yori tightened his grip on his shakujō and tried to stand tall. ‘I’m not scared of ninjas,’ he said determinedly.
Jack laid a hand upon Yori’s shoulder. ‘I know, my friend. That’s why I trust you to protect my sister.’
Yori’s chest swelled with pride. ‘I won’t let you down, Jack,’ he promised, with a bow.
As Yori locked the door, Jack and Akiko hurried along the corridor towards the staircase. On reaching the landing, they heard the clash of swords coming from the floor below.
‘Signor Horatio needs our help!’ said Akiko, racing down.
But when they got there, it wasn’t Signor Horatio after all. In the Gallery of Arms they found Sir Toby fearlessly fending off another ninja. This one wielded a katana.
‘Whatever devil you are, you won’t defeat the mighty Sir Toby!’ he boasted, as he parried a slash to his head and countered with a thrust to the chest.
The ninja nimbly evaded the thrust and came back with a devastating slice across the body. Light-footed as a ballet dancer, Sir Toby leapt away, dodging the blade before retaliating with a peppering of jabs that forced the ninja on the retreat – his rapier’s reach giving him a crucial advantage over the katana. As much as Jack despised the man, he once again had to admire Sir Toby’s skill with a sword. It was rare to see a ninja on the back foot in a fight.
The assassin was stung on his left sword hand, then his right arm, then his shoulder. None were fatal, but each strike perturbed the ninja. He began to lose more ground, becoming wilder and more desperate in his defence.
‘You can’t best an English sword master!’ laughed Sir Toby, becoming bolder in his lunges.
Then the ninja overblocked a thrust with his katana, leaving his chest open for an attack. Sir Toby instantly spotted the gap in his adversary’s guard and lunged. As the thrust came for his heart, the ninja looked certain to be run through … but, at the last second, he twisted his body, corkscrewing out of the way of the rapier’s needle-sharp tip. The blade passed beyond its intended mark – and beyond posing any immediate threat to the ninja. Surging forward, he delivered a rapid combination of hand strikes as fast as a rattlesnake, each targeting a specific pressure point.
Sir Toby, mid-lunge, was paralysed where he stood, his front leg forward, his sword arm outstretched, his rapier quivering.
‘What … have … you … done … to … me?’ he groaned.
Jack knew exactly what the ninja had done. Dim Mak. The Death Touch.
As Sir Toby trembled in his immobilized state, the ninja took his time. His composure was absolute now, his former apparent panic merely a ploy to coax overconfidence from his opponent. With calm Zen-like motion, the ninja raised his katana high into the air, then cut cleanly down in a swift arc.