Young Samurai: The Ring of Wind (29 page)

‘We’re not taking the lift?’ asked Jack.

Li Ling shook her head. ‘Only captains ride for free,’ she replied.

‘You have to
pay
?’

Li Ling nodded. ‘Everything has its price in Pirate Town.’

They descended the walkway, a slim bamboo rail the only barrier between safety and a fatal plummet to the lagoon basin. Looking over the rail at the precipitous drop, Jack saw countless roofs projecting from the rock face. Smoke curled up from cooking fires and pirates thronged the gangways and ladders. Jack had a clear view of the ships docked at the jetty, but he was still too high up to spot the skiff.

‘This top level is for captains only,’ explained Li Ling as they passed by grand bamboo houses with balconies overlooking the lagoon. ‘This one belongs to Captain Kurogumo.’

Jack glanced in. There appeared to be four rooms, each matted out with the finest
tatami
and separated by silk
shoji
decorated with painted battle scenes. A large treasure chest sat in one corner, surrounded by an impressive hoard of samurai armour, exquisite swords and other prize weapons. Jack’s eyes widened – among the armoury were his red-handled Shizu swords.

‘The captain’s not there,’ said Li Ling, thinking Jack was looking for him. ‘Now he’s well enough, he’s inspecting the repairs to the
Black Spider
.’

Jack spotted movement on the balcony. A woman with long black hair, a white face and black teeth appeared. Dressed in a shimmering purple kimono, the
geisha
looked harmless enough until he spotted the
tant
ō
knife in her
obi
. Her dark eyes regarded him with suspicion. Reluctantly moving on and leaving his swords behind, Jack followed Li Ling down a rickety ladder to the next level.

More houses perched on the cliff face. These were smaller two-room abodes, but no less sumptuous.

‘The quartermaster, pilots and ships’ carpenters live here,’ explained Li Ling. ‘The lower levels are for the rest of the crews.’

‘Based on rank order?’ asked Jack.

Li Ling shook her head. ‘Length of service, strength of arm and riches determine your position.’

‘So where are your quarters?’

Li Ling forced a smile. ‘At the very bottom …’ Her eyes then hardened with resolve. ‘… For the time being.’

As they descended, Jack noticed the buildings became less elaborate. They still relied upon bamboo frames for strength, but the solid bamboo walls were replaced with pieces of spare decking, canvas sheets and even driftwood. It gave the vertical town a ramshackle look and the appearance that it could collapse at any moment. Only the sturdy storehouses maintained any sense of solid structure.

‘This is the main street,’ announced Li Ling.

The walkway was the busiest and the widest so far, allowing men to pass three abreast. It skirted the outside edge of a series of buildings with open shop fronts. But these shops didn’t offer the typical wares. Many were bars selling cheap
saké
, or gambling dens where pirates could lose their riches on the toss of a dice. A tattooist had set up business in one cabin and was etching a black sea dragon on to the burly arm of a Wind Demon. In the store next to them, a woman and man haggled angrily over a vicious-looking battleaxe – the owner, clearly not getting the price she wanted, was threatening to show her potential customer how sharp the blade
really
was.

As Jack walked along the suspended street with Li Ling, he felt the eyes of many pirates following him. But they weren’t the usual looks of astonishment at his blond hair and blue eyes. They were hungry, greedy stares.

Li Ling noticed the attention too and whispered, ‘There are rumours that you’re worth one hundred
koban
to the Shogun, alive or dead!’

Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or be seriously afraid. But, whatever the actual bounty was now, he was a walking treasure chest to these pirates. He could only hope that Tatsumaki’s influence was great enough to protect him from such lawless men.

‘BELOW!’ came a cry.

Li Ling pulled Jack into the cover of the nearest shop front. A splatter of brown-stained water dropped from above into the lagoon.

‘I promise, you don’t want
that
sort of rain to land on your head,’ she smirked.

As Jack glanced over the rail, his eyes happened upon the skiff. The little boat was moored in the shadow of Captain Wanizame’s
Great White
.

The promise of freedom was tantalizingly close.

Wind Witch

‘Why don’t you have your fortune told?’ suggested Li Ling, pointing to a dark smoky cabin with dead snakes, dried lizards and bat wings hanging from the beams. ‘It’s customary for every pirate to visit the Wind Witch.’

‘Have
you
visited her?’ Jack asked, wrenching his eyes away from the skiff and giving the macabre shop a dubious look.

Li Ling nodded, her face beaming. ‘The Wind Witch knows all. She told me that I would make a great pirate one day, and would command the South China Sea.’ She gestured for Jack to go inside. He was about to protest, but Li Ling urged him forward. ‘It’ll be worth it,’ she promised. ‘I’ll wait for you.’

Reluctantly, Jack found himself entering the Wind Witch’s den. He had to stoop to pass through the many shrouds that hung from the ceiling like ancient cobwebs. The room stank of sulphur and charred hair. A couple of candles flickered in the gloom and a stone hearth smouldered red with the remains of a fire. Dried herbs, wrapped in bundles, were scattered on the floor. From tiny wooden cages, stacked along the rear wall, Jack heard scurrying and high-pitched squeaks and saw black shapes twitching in the darkness. In the centre of the room was a rough wooden table upon which a bowl, a small pile of animal bones and a dagger lay. But there was no sign of the Wind Witch.

Jack hesitated, wondering if he should call out. In truth, being wary of such magical practices, he was glad to have missed the witch. But, as he turned to leave, a heap of rags burst into life.

‘Do not fear going forward; fear only to stand still,’ croaked the old crone’s voice.

‘I think … I’ve changed my mind,’ excused Jack, backing out of the doorway.

‘To come so far and turn at the last step is a journey wasted,’ said the Wind Witch. ‘If you want to know the road ahead, Jack-
kun
, you must ask those coming back.’

Hearing his name, Jack faltered mid-stride. He had assumed that this Wind Witch simply weaved fortunes that people wanted to hear. Yet this old crone seemed to promise much more than that.

‘Sit!’ she demanded, beckoning him impatiently with a bony finger.

Jack warily took his place opposite the Wind Witch. He couldn’t make out her features beneath the cowl of rags, but could smell her fetid breath and see the glint of her devil-black eyes.

‘Fortune favours the fair,’ said the witch, studying his features.

Jack’s skin crawled as her eyes raked over his face. ‘I don’t have the means to pay you,’ he admitted.

The Wind Witch clicked her tongue in annoyance. Then her hand shot out and seized him by the hair. Before he could pull away, she’d hacked off several locks with the dagger.

‘The mane of a golden child will be payment enough,’ she said, rubbing the locks between her skeletal fingers and sniffing them appreciatively.

Pocketing the hair in the sleeve of her raggedy clothes, she kept a few strands back and placed them on the table. Then the witch snapped some twigs into the bowl and, using the embers of the fire, set the tinder alight. She ground down herbs and sprinkled them over the flames, sending potent wafts of smoke into the air. With the dagger, she shaved off several pieces of bone into the bowl, then spat on the mix, her spittle sizzling in the fire.

‘Your hand,’ she instructed, without looking up.

Jack hesitantly held out his arm. The Wind Witch took hold and with the tip of her dagger blade pricked his thumb. Jack grimaced as she squeezed out three drops of blood. Next she grabbed one of the wooden cages, opened it and shook out a large black spider. Before the creature scuttled away, she dropped it into the flames where it writhed and died. Jack covered his mouth and nose as his nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh. Finally, the witch added a few strands of his hair and the flames turned bright green.

Leaning over her burning concoction, the Wind Witch breathed in a lungful of the fumes, then settled back. When she spoke next, her voice was deep, hoarse and seemingly disembodied.

‘
To gain freedom,
one must wake from death and return to life …
’ Her body shuddered within its trance. ‘
Pain will nourish your courage when the dragon returns …
’ Curls of smoke spiralled out from her hooded face.
‘
Your journey’s end has only just begun. The greatest sacrifice is yet to come –
’

Suddenly the Wind Witch gave a piercing shriek and knocked the bowl to the floor, extinguishing the flames.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jack, alarmed at her erratic behaviour.

The Wind Witch shook her head, as if petrified out of her wits. ‘Some things are not meant to be seen.’

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. ‘Leave. Now!’

‘What did you see?’ Jack insisted.

But the Wind Witch collapsed senseless among her heap of rags.

Jack jumped up, his heart racing.
What had she meant by her fortune-telling? And what could have been so terrifying to scare a witch?

Hurriedly emerging from the den, he blinked against the bright sunshine. Shaken as he was by the experience, in the cold light of day, his encounter now seemed little more than a bad dream. He tried to persuade himself that the woman had been playing a trick on him, perhaps for not having the money to pay. Still, it was a frightfully convincing performance …

Jack looked for Li Ling amid the throng of pirates, but couldn’t see her. Out of nowhere, Skullface stepped into his path.

‘Li Ling’s been summoned by Captain Kurogumo,’ he explained. ‘I’ll escort you from here on.’

There was something in the pirate’s manner that put Jack on his guard. He cautiously backed away.

‘Where do you think you’re going,
gaijin
?’ asked Skullface, his grin a little too wide.

‘To the citadel,’ replied Jack.

‘Then follow me,’ invited the pirate, gesturing innocently towards a rickety side ladder.

‘But that’s not the way,’ said Jack, turning to run.

Tiger and Snakehead suddenly appeared, blocking his path. Without warning, Manzo jumped out from a nearby cabin and bundled him inside. Caught in his bear-like grip, Jack was powerless to fight back. Within seconds, he was enveloped by a sack and bound tightly with rope, his wrists and ankles expertly hogtied behind him. Struggling against his bonds, Jack cried out for help.

‘Shut him up!’ hissed Skullface.

The last thing Jack felt was a heavy blow to the back of his head.

Kidnapped

The floor pitched and rolled. For a moment, still bound within the sack, Jack thought his sickly disorientation came from the strike to his head. Then he registered the creak of wood, the splash of waves and the flap of canvas. He was at sea.

Apart from the dull throb at the base of his skull, Jack didn’t think he was otherwise injured. He tried to move, but the ropes held him fast. His throat was dry from the dust within the sack. He considered shouting for help, but it was unlikely anyone would come running to his aid. It was better to remain silent and learn what he could before revealing to his captors that he’d regained consciousness.

He had no idea how long he’d been out for. No light seeped through the coarse sacking, so Jack guessed that he was either in the hold of a ship or else night had fallen.

He heard voices: only four and he recognized all of them – Skullface, Snakehead, Tiger and Manzo. If that was the case, he was probably on a small boat, otherwise there’d need to be more crew.

What had Skullface and his gang planned for him? His sudden abduction didn’t bode well. It would certainly be against the wishes of Tatsumaki. And he’d witnessed the cruel games of torture that these pirates enjoyed playing with their prisoners.
Was this the danger the Wind Witch had foreseen?
If so, surely she could have given him better warning!