The Return of the Warrior Read online

  ‘NO!’ cried Jack as Sir Toby was decapitated, his red-haired head sliced clean off.

  At Jack’s cry of protest, the ninja glanced up and their eyes locked. In that moment, Jack could have sworn that behind the mask the ninja actually smiled. Then, raising a hand, the assassin beckoned Jack and Akiko into the gallery.

  Jack looked at Akiko. ‘I think we fight first, ask questions later?’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Akiko, stringing an arrow.

  Weapons raised, they entered the gallery. Two against one, Jack thought they could swiftly dispatch this ninja. But he hadn’t reckoned on walking into a trap. As they passed through the doorway, another ninja ambushed them from above. Dropping down from the wooden lintel, the assassin landed on Akiko’s back like a black panther.

  ‘You left this behind!’ hissed the ninja in Japanese.

  A gleam of gold flashed through the air. Akiko shrieked in pain as the sharpened hairpin was driven into her shoulder blade. Her whole body arched and she dropped to her knees. Jack elbowed her attacker hard in the face, knocking the ninja off Akiko’s back. In so doing, he dislodged the ninja’s mask, revealing … a female face. A kunoichi. While this didn’t shock Jack, he still hesitated in his follow-up attack, giving the kunoichi a chance to retreat to a safe distance.

  Squirming in agony, Akiko desperately reached for the kanzashi protruding from her shoulder. The hairpin, thanks to her quiver, had missed the paralysing ryumon ki point by a fraction, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain through her body. Jack went to help her, but was kicked aside by the other ninja and he slid across the polished floorboards. Winded heavily by the brutal attack, Jack lay sprawled on the floor, and it was a few seconds before he could get back to his feet. The ninja strode towards Jack, katana raised. A succession of lethal slices from the sword forced Jack to retreat along the gallery, separating him further and further from Akiko.

  Meanwhile, the kunoichi had by now taken a broadsword from the weapons rack and was bearing down on Akiko to finish her off. With the kanzashi lodged in her back, Akiko could only feebly raise her yumi in defence. The bamboo bow shattered under the force of the kunoichi’s strike but was still enough to deflect the blade’s heavy blow. Scrambling away, Akiko snatched a rapier off the wall and retreated down the hallway. The kunoichi went after her, slow and certain as a hunter stalking a wounded prey.

  ‘Akiko!’ cried Jack, desperate to follow and save her. But the ninja with the katana blocked his path, leaving Jack no option but to battle his way through. Taking up a fighting guard, he demanded, ‘Who are you? Why are you trying to kill us?’

  The ninja didn’t reply. But his sword did.

  The blade struck out like a bolt of lightning, thrusting for Jack’s heart. Jack spun to one side, evading the blade. Then he sliced with his own katana across the ninja’s neck. The ninja leant back, bending like a reed in the wind, the steel edge of Jack’s sword passing within a hair’s breadth of his mask. Whirling round, the ninja then cut for Jack’s legs. Jack jumped high into the air before bringing his own sword down as if to cleave the ninja in two. His attacker dived aside, rolled out of harm’s way and effortlessly sprang back to his feet.

  ‘Who sent you?’ growled Jack, his frustration at the ninja’s agility increasing with his concern for Akiko. The fight in the hallway had gone ominously quiet.

  The ninja’s continued silence was equally disturbing – just as he probably intended. The only conversation was the conversation of blades as they fought through the length of the gallery and into the Great Hall. The masked ball had been abandoned. The musicians were gone, the stage was empty, the great banquet left to spoil and go to waste. All the guests, the servants – everyone, in fact – had run away, no one willing to risk any possible exposure to the plague.

  With the Great Hall deserted, the only sounds came from the roaring of the fire in the hearth and the battling of the samurai and the ninja. Their katanas engaged in a deadly dance; steel against steel singing out. Jack soon found himself pushed to the limit of his skills. The ninja seemed to have a counter to his every attack, an answer to his every riposte, almost as if he could read Jack’s next move.

  Jack realized he had to do something different, something unexpected – just as he had in his duel against Sir Toby. But before he could work out what, the ninja struck the back of Jack’s blade twice in quick succession. The sudden double hit disarmed Jack of his katana and it clattered to the floor. An instant later the razor tip of the ninja’s sword was pressed to his throat. Jack stood stock-still, feeling his racing pulse pump against the sharpened steel. An ounce more pressure and the blade would pierce his artery and he’d bleed to death like a stuck pig.

  But Jack was more stunned at the ninja’s sword technique than his own imminent demise … Autumn Leaf strike.

  Somehow the ninja knew Masamoto’s Two Heavens!

  ‘Before you kill me, at least tell me who you are,’ begged Jack, staring into the dark hooded eyes of his assassin.

  Keeping the kissaki firmly to Jack’s throat, the ninja turned the blade with his left sword hand. Firelight rippled along the steel’s hamon, guiding Jack’s gaze to the sword’s bronze tsuba, where the rays of a sun kamon could be seen, glinting.

  ‘God forbid …’ gasped Jack, recognizing the samurai family crest as the ninja pulled off his hood.

  Imperious. Arrogant. Superior. The scornful expression was as recognizable as the ninja’s face. High cheekbones. Shaved domed head. Dark hooded eyes shot through with pure malevolence. There was no denying who the assassin was. Still, Jack couldn’t believe he’d become a ninja. ‘Kazuki!’

  His former school rival responded with a malicious grin. ‘Gaijin!’

  ‘B-but how?’ spluttered Jack in Japanese, slipping back easily into his enemy’s native language. ‘You’re supposed to be in prison.’

  Kazuki gave a spiteful laugh. ‘No one imprisons the Oda clan. Not even the great Masamoto-sama. I was released the very next day by a loyal subject of my father’s.’

  ‘That doesn’t explain how you got to England, though,’ said Jack, still keenly aware of the blade at his throat.

  Kazuki smirked. ‘As ever, you underestimate the resourcefulness and determination of a samurai.’

  ‘You’re no longer a samurai!’ retorted Jack, instantly regretting his rashness as the kissaki dug into his flesh, threatening to sever his artery.

  ‘I don’t need reminding!’ snarled Kazuki, his eyes flashing with fury. ‘You’re to blame for my fall from grace. After Masamoto-sama stripped me of my samurai status, I had no option but to turn to the Way of the Ninja. I had to debase myself to survive … but I eventually came to appreciate the cunning and skill of a shinobi. And I had a whole year aboard the Salamander to learn and master their arts.’ He smiled thinly. ‘In particular, Dim Mak.’

  ‘The Salamander?’ Jack’s thoughts turned to the Dutch trading vessel that had failed to make port in London. The beached galleon at Hole Haven, with its dead crew and supposed ‘killer shadows’, had to be one and the same. During the fleet’s long journey home from Japan there had been rumours of ghosts aboard that ship, of shadows on deck, of crew simply vanishing. But no one, of course, had suspected ninjas. Kazuki had been a stowaway on the Salamander all that time!

  ‘But what ninja would ever teach you his arts?’ questioned Jack.

  ‘My time in prison may have been brief, but it was fruitful,’ Kazuki replied. ‘In the cell with me were three ninjas of the Fūma clan. These Wind Demons, it turned out, also had a vendetta against you … the gaijin samurai.’

  Jack’s heart sank. The Fūma clan were ninja pirates. During his arduous trek to Nagasaki, he’d encountered the Wind Demons crossing the Seto Sea. Their clan had been all but wiped out in a battle with Sea Samurai, their secret lair destroyed and their Pirate Queen killed. Jack had been accused of cursing the Wind Demons and being responsible for their downfall. No wonder Kazuki had found such willing assassins to teach him their dark arts a
nd accompany him on the treacherous voyage to England.

  Kazuki grinned when he saw Jack’s defeated expression. ‘As you clearly appreciate, the Fūma were eager to help me in my task – a task bestowed upon me by the mighty Shogun Kamakura. And even though my lord is dead, his dying wish lives on.’ Kazuki’s grip tightened round the hilt of the katana and Jack braced himself for the fatal blow. ‘I’ve colluded with ninjas …’ Kazuki went on, his tone bitter, resentful, ‘crossed half the world … scoured this filthy country … all with one purpose in mind: to kill you and restore my honour!’

  Even in the face of certain death, Jack couldn’t believe the lengths his enemy had gone to. He’d been wrong to think that Kazuki’s spirit had been broken in Nagasaki. Like a shattered sword, Kazuki’s fury had merely been reforged and strengthened in a fire of hatred and revenge. Kazuki had demonstrated that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth to satisfy his bloodlust.

  ‘I only need your head to prove it,’ said Kazuki, swinging back the katana to decapitate Jack with one final savage slice.

  Jack’s life flashed before his eyes, his thoughts consumed by memories of his sister and the cruel twist of fate that had cut short their long-awaited reunion.

  Assured of victory at last, Kazuki couldn’t resist one final jibe. Pausing at the top of his swing, he snarled, ‘Vengeance is mine, gaijin!’

  And in that moment of arrogant self-indulgence Jack pulled the shuriken from the fold of his obi and flicked it at Kazuki’s face. Kazuki howled in pain as the throwing star struck him in the eye. Jack grabbed his katana from the floor, at the same time unsheathing his wakizashi, and took up a Two Heavens stance.

  ‘Curse you, gaijin!’ snarled Kazuki, pulling out the shuriken. Half-blinded, he glared at Jack from his one good eye. Now more than ever, Jack’s school rival resembled his arch-enemy Dokugan Ryu, not only in the blackness of his heart but in his appearance too.

  ‘An eye for an eye,’ said Jack, his two swords gleaming in the firelight. ‘That was for murdering Sir Henry’s stable boy.’

  Kazuki wiped the blood from his cheek. ‘I want you to know, gaijin, that once I’ve killed you, I’ll not only behead your beloved Akiko, I’ll cut your sister into eight pieces and feed her to the dogs!’

  A surge of protective rage rose up in Jack. He roared a battle cry of kiai and launched himself at Kazuki. Blades whirling, he drove his enemy back with cut after cut. Despite his partial loss of vision and the obvious pain he was in, Kazuki managed to deflect and evade the onslaught. Retreating into the Gallery of Arms, he snatched a parrying dagger from the weapons rack with his claw of a right hand and took up his own Two Heavens stance.

  ‘We both know Masamoto’s sword style,’ reminded Kazuki. ‘And we both know I’m better at it!’

  ‘Are you sure of that, Kazuki?’ replied Jack. Attacking with a Flint-and-Spark strike, he ran his blade down the length of Kazuki’s katana, the move so fast that sparks actually flew from the scrape of steel against steel. Kazuki’s weapon pushed aside, Jack then thrust for his enemy’s heart.

  But Kazuki stopped the blade with the parrying dagger and retaliated with a Fire-and-Stone cut. The force of the hammer blow almost knocked Jack’s wakizashi from his left hand, the whole sword shuddering in his grip. He came back with a Running Water strike, flowing forward with all the force of a wave. Yet Kazuki rode out the attack, twisting and turning like the wind.

  For all his arrogance, Kazuki was right. He knew the Two Heavens. Knew what to expect. Knew how to counter it.

  Jack was driven back into the Great Hall as Kazuki now went on the offensive. A Serpentine strike cut through Jack’s guard and the kissaki of Kazuki’s sword tore across his chest, slicing through the diamond-chequered cloth and leaving a razor-like wound. Jack cried out and staggered backwards, stumbling into the banqueting table. Plates of meat and bowls of fruit went crashing to the floor.

  ‘I’m going to carve you up like that pheasant!’ snarled Kazuki, pointing with his dagger at the roasted fowl still sitting upon its silver platter.

  Jack glanced down at his wound. The cut wasn’t deep, but it bled freely and it now hurt to move his left arm. There was no doubt he was losing the duel. And Kazuki knew it too. With a triumphant smirk, Kazuki raised his sword for another Serpentine strike. Hampered by his injury, Jack would be hard-pressed to fend off the lethal attack. Then a thought struck him: If a Japanese Two Heavens technique works using a Western rapier, then why not try a Western technique using a Japanese sword …?

  Jack quickly pommelled his wakizashi as Kazuki bore down on him. With his katana held high to deflect the Serpentine strike, he thrust out with his short sword. The extended reach was enough to surprise his old enemy. The kissaki pierced Kazuki’s belly and the blade sank in. Kazuki faltered in his attack before dropping to his knees, his sword and dagger clattering to the ground.

  ‘H-h-how …?’ he gasped, his face a knot of pain and confusion as he tried to figure out how a wakizashi could have outreached a katana.

  Jack stood over the wounded Kazuki. He kicked away his enemy’s weapons before pulling out the wakizashi. Groaning in pain, Kazuki clasped his bleeding abdomen.

  ‘That’s something you’ll never know,’ replied Jack, sheathing his wakizashi before laying the edge of his katana against Kazuki’s neck.

  Kazuki glared up at him with his remaining eye. ‘Do it!’ he said, coughing up blood. ‘Or don’t you have the guts?’

  Jack’s sword wavered. To kill his enemy this way would give Kazuki the honourable death he desired as a samurai. Yet twice before Jack had let his rival live, and both times Jack had lived to regret it. This time, he knew Kazuki had to die. Not out of any desire for revenge. But for protection. Not only for himself and Akiko, but for his sister. He couldn’t allow anyone to harm Jess.

  ‘Call yourself a samurai?’ spluttered Kazuki. ‘You’re a pathetic … worthless … gaijin –’

  Jack whipped back his sword, determined to finish their feud once and for all. Then as he swung the blade, a shout of KIAI – cut short into a strangled yelp – echoed through the manor house, followed by a girl’s terrified scream.

  ‘Jess!’ exclaimed Jack, stopping his sword mid-strike.

  A bloodstained grin crept across Kazuki’s face. ‘That’ll be Kuma … meeting your little sister.’

  Caught between killing Kazuki and saving Jess, Jack made the only decision he could. Leaving the wounded Kazuki on his knees, Jack sprinted out of the Great Hall, back through the Gallery of Arms and up the staircase. Wet footprints dotted the steps and continued in a trail along the corridor to Rose’s bedroom. The door had been smashed open and Jack could hear the sounds of a struggle coming from inside.

  He dashed in and found Yori lying dazed on the floor, a manriki chain wrapped tightly round his neck. His shakujō lay beside him, snapped in half. Beside the four-poster bed the ninja Kuma had Jess, a garrotte pulled round her throat. Her fingers were clawing at the wire digging into her soft skin.

  Jack rushed at Kuma, his katana raised. But Kuma turned and held Jess in front of him as a shield, and Jack no longer dared strike at the ninja for fear of mortally wounding his sister. Kuma tugged on the garrotte, making her cry out again in panic. Jack had a horrifying flashback to when his father had been garrotted by Dokugan Ryu and his clan aboard the Alexandria – and now the nightmare was happening all over again!

  In desperation, Jack dropped his sword and held up his hands in surrender.

  ‘Kanojo o tebanasu!’ he cried, pleading in Japanese for Kuma to let her go. ‘You want me, not her.’

  ‘Your self-sacrifice is admirable,’ hissed Kuma. ‘But this is the price you must pay!’

  ‘Sumimasen …’ begged Jack, tears stinging his eyes as Jess’s struggle grew weaker, ‘she’s but a young girl, and unarmed.’

  The ninja kept the garrotte taut and Jess’s hands fell away from the wire, her eyes closed and her body went limp.

  ‘NO!’ cried Jack, feeling
like his whole world was being torn from him. A fury so monstrous and fierce was unleashed within him that he lost all sense and reason. His sole thought was to destroy his sister’s killer … but as he launched himself in enraged revenge, the ninja stiffened. His grip on the garrotte loosened and he slumped to the floor, dragging Jess down with him. Behind him, Rose knelt upon the bed with the doxy Hazel’s knife in her hand, the one Jack had given her at the arena.

  ‘Takes a woman’s touch to deal with these devils!’ she declared, wincing from her gunshot wound as she eased herself off the bed. Then she spotted Jess’s body lying lifeless beside the ninja. ‘Jess! No! Was I too late?’

  His blind fury abating, Jack bent down over Jess, held his hand close to her face, but couldn’t feel the warmth of her breath. ‘She’s not breathing!’ he cried. He hurriedly pulled the wire from her neck and felt for her pulse. ‘No, wait,’ he said, ‘her heart is still beating … weakly, but she’s still clinging on to life!’

  At a loss as to what to do next, Jack turned Jess over on to her side and rubbed her hard on the back, much like he’d done when she was a baby and needed winding. She suddenly gasped and drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes flew open, wild and panicking like a startled bird’s. Then she saw Jack’s face above her, felt his arms cradling her, and she relaxed into his safe embrace.

  ‘Thank the heavens!’ said Rose, leaning for support against the four-poster bed.

  Jack held his sister tight, thankful too for her miraculous return.

  Wearily, Jess sat up. ‘Y-Yori,’ she rasped with great effort. ‘Is he …?’

  Jack spun round. ‘Yori!’ he shouted, having momentarily forgotten his friend amid the shock of his sister’s near-death.

  Yori was laid out on the floor, the manriki chain still twisted round his neck. Hobbling over, Rose helped Jack to untangle it, and Yori drew in several wheezing breaths. He was fortunate the chain had not completely strangled him, but he had a large lump on the back of his head where one of the chain’s end-weights had struck him.