CHRIS BRADFORD

PUFFIN

Contents

Map: The Japans – 17th Century

The Letter

1 Ambush

2 Trapped Like Crabs

3 Pilgrims

4 O-settai

5 Turning of the Tides

6 School of No Sword

7 Seasickness

8 Pirate War

9 Omishima Island

10 Warrior Spirit

11 Wind Demons

12 Close-Hauled

13 Sea Dragon

14 Shark Bait

15 Captain Kurogumo

16 Fugu

17 Dying

18 Pirate Boy

19 Fist Fight

20 Sea Samurai

21 Repel Boarders

22 A Pirate’s Punishment

23 The Bilge

24 Hulled

25 Raft

26 Adrift

27 Albatross

28 White Death

29 Stay of Execution

30 Kamikaze

31 Sea Anchor

32 Pirate Island

33 Tatsumaki

34 Saru

35 Deception

36 Octopus

37 The Life of a Pirate

38 Cutting Out

39 Sitting Ducks

40 Sea Fog

41 A Pirate’s Share

42 Target Practice

43 Heaven and Earth

44 Pirate Town

45 Wind Witch

46 Kidnapped

47 A Ghost from the Past

48 Old Wounds

49 Flying Fan

50 The Koketsu

51 Nihon Maru

52 Fire Ships

53 Smoke Bombs

54 Spike

55 Weak Spot

56 Tug-of-War

57 Second Wave

58 Cursed

59 Collapse

60 The Key

61 Freefall

62 Imposter

63 A Favourable Wind

Notes on the Sources

Ninja Pirate Ship Competition

Japanese Glossary

Acknowledgements

PUFFIN BOOKS

Praise for the Young Samurai series:

‘A fantastic adventure that floors the reader on page one and keeps them there until the end. The pace is furious and the martial arts detail authentic’

– Eoin Colfer, author of the bestselling Artemis Fowl series

‘Fierce fiction … captivating for young readers’

– Daily Telegraph

‘Addictive’

– Evening Standard

‘More and more absorbing … vivid and enjoyable’

– The Times

‘Bradford comes out swinging in this fast-paced adventure … and produces an adventure novel to rank among the genre’s best. This book earns the literary equivalent of a black belt’

– Publishers Weekly

‘The most exciting fight sequences imaginable on paper!’

– Booklist

Winner of Northern Ireland Book Award 2011
Shortlisted for Red House Children’s Book Award 2009
School Library Association’s Riveting Read 2009

Chris Bradford likes to fly through the air. He has thrown himself over Victoria Falls on a bungee cord, out of an aeroplane in New Zealand and off a French mountain on a paraglider, but he has always managed to land safely – something he learnt from his martial arts …

Chris joined a judo club aged seven where his love of throwing people over his shoulder, punching the air and bowing lots started. Since those early years, he has trained in karate, kickboxing, samurai swordsmanship and has earned his black belt in taijutsu, the secret fighting art of the ninja.

Before writing the Young Samurai series, Chris was a professional musician and songwriter. He’s even performed to HRH Queen Elizabeth II (but he suspects she found his band a bit noisy).

Chris lives in a village on the South Downs with his wife, Sarah, his son, Zach, and two cats called Tigger and Rhubarb.

Books by Chris Bradford:

The Young Samurai series (in reading order)

THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR

THE WAY OF THE SWORD

THE WAY OF THE DRAGON

THE RING OF EARTH

THE RING OF WATER

THE RING OF FIRE

THE RING OF WIND

(available as ebook only)

THE WAY OF FIRE

For the Moles,

Sue, Simon, Steve, Sam and all the cousins!

Map: The Japans – 17th Century

The Letter

Japan, 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 Japans in August 1611, but I am sad to tell you he was killed in an attack upon our ship, the Alexandria. I alone survived.

For these past three years, I’ve been living in the care of a Japanese warrior, Masamoto Takeshi, at his samurai school in Kyoto. He has been very kind to me, but life has not been easy.

An assassin, 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 assure you the assassin 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.

Japan 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 ship 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 God 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 circumstances of our father’s death, I still struggle to fully embrace the Way of the Ninja …

1

Ambush

Japan, spring 1615

Miyuki held a finger to her lips in warning. Jack, Saburo and Yori fell silent, glancing with unease round the forest clearing. It was barely dawn and, although the four friends hadn’t encountered anyone in days, they remained on their guard.

The Shogun’s samurai were proving relentless in their hunt for Jack. As a foreigner, a gaijin, Jack had been banished from Japan. But he was also a samurai warrior. Having fought against the Shogun in the Battle of Osaka Castle, he’d been accused of treason. It didn’t matter that he was a mere boy of fifteen. There was a price on his head and, as a gaijin samurai, he was wanted dead or alive.

The dirt track ahead looked deserted. There was no movement among the bushes, nor any sounds to betray a hidden enemy. But Jack trusted Miyuki’s instincts. Being a ninja, her senses were highly attuned to danger.

‘Ten or so men passed through here,’ Miyuki whispered, studying a patch of downtrodden grass. ‘Less than an hour ago.’

‘Which way were they headed?’ asked Jack, not wishing to cross their path.

‘That’s the problem,’ she replied, her dark eyes narrowing. ‘They went in all directions.’

At once, Jack understood what she was implying. An ominous feeling like the tightening of a noose seized him. His awareness heightened by the potential threat, he scanned the undergrowth a second time. Having trained in the Art of the Ninja himself, he knew what signs to look for. Almost at once, he spotted several broken stems among the bushes as well as debris disturbed underfoot. He then realized the forest was too quiet and the birds had stopped their singing.

‘We have to get out of here!’ said Jack, shouldering his pack to run.

But it was already too late.

A flutter, like the wings of a startled sparrow, heralded the ambush. Ducking at the very last second, Jack dodged the steel-tipped arrow targeted for his head. It clipped his straw hat before embedding itself in a nearby tree trunk. A moment later, a troop of fully armed samurai burst from the bushes on all sides and charged towards them.

Instinctively, Miyuki, Saburo and Yori formed a protective circle round Jack.

‘We won’t let them take you,’ Yori promised, holding his shakujō in both hands. The wooden staff with its pointed iron tip and six metal rings was the symbol of a Buddhist monk. But it was also a formidable weapon. The rings jingled as the fearful yet valiant Yori braced himself for the fight.

‘And I won’t let them harm you,’ said Jack, knowing that Yori as a monk preferred to avoid confrontation.

He drew both his katana and wakizashi. A parting gift from his closest friend Akiko, their perfectly balanced razor-sharp blades glinted in the early morning light as he raised them into a Two Heavens guard. Likewise, Saburo unsheathed his katana in preparation to do battle. Although he’d trained at the Niten Ichi Ryū with Jack, he hadn’t been taught the legendary double-sword technique.

‘At least the odds are better than last time,’ Saburo quipped, referring to the forty bandits they’d confronted in Tamagashi village the month before.

Sounding a battle cry and brandishing their weapons, the samurai soldiers closed in for the kill. Miyuki turned to face the first of their attackers. Before he was within striking distance, she flicked a shuriken from her hand. The deadly throwing star flashed through the air and struck the soldier in the neck. He choked and stumbled. Miyuki leapt into the air, executing a flying side-kick that sent the samurai sprawling to the ground. As she landed, the next samurai swung his sword to cut off her head. Pulling a straight-bladed ninjatō from the scabbard upon her back, Miyuki blocked the attack and engaged in a vicious sword fight with the man.

Weapons clashed as Jack, Saburo and Yori fought the other samurai warriors. Jack was confronted by three at once and had to use all his skill to keep them at bay. His swords whirled above his head as he deflected each of their strikes. At the same time, Yori was thrusting the iron tip of his shakujō at any samurai who dared to get close. He winded one in the stomach and was driving another back when Jack caught a movement in the bushes. The samurai archer was taking aim.

‘Yori, watch out!’ cried Jack.

But, with no cover nearby, Yori was an easy target.

Using a lightning-fast Autumn Leaf strike, Jack disarmed his nearest assailant, then kicked him hard in Yori’s direction. The defeated samurai staggered backwards into the line of fire just as the archer released his arrow. The arrow hit him square in the chest and, groaning with pain, he crumpled to the earth. But the precious seconds Jack took to save Yori’s life now put his own into harm’s way. One of the other samurai lunged with his sword. The steel tip was set to impale Jack when a second blade came out of nowhere and deflected it aside.

‘Saved your life … yet again,’ Saburo gasped, jumping between Jack and his assailant. With a furious shout of kiai, Saburo charged forward and forced the warrior to retreat.

Grateful as he was, Jack had no chance to thank his friend as the next samurai advanced on him. Jack also realized the archer now had him in his sights. Almost at full draw, the man was ready to release his deadly arrow. While the samurai was proving no match for his sword skill, Jack couldn’t hope to stop the archer.

Then Jack recalled a ninja technique from the Ring of Fire.

Fending off his samurai attacker with his katana, Jack held his wakizashi aloft and angled its polished blade to catch the early morning sun. The sudden blaze of light dazzled the man. He lost his aim and the arrow shot wide.

But Jack knew this was just a short reprieve. The archer would kill them one by one if they remained in the open much longer. He shouted to his friends, ‘Into the forest!’

Miyuki was still battling her samurai. The man was strong and threatened to overpower her. Just as her defeat seemed inevitable, she reached inside her jacket and threw metsubishi powder into her attacker’s face. Blinded by the mix of sand and ash, the samurai was powerless to stop Miyuki side-stamping his knee and crippling him.

‘This way!’ cried Miyuki as the samurai collapsed in agony.

Without a moment to lose, the four friends sprinted from the clearing into the dense undergrowth. Behind them, they heard roars of rage as the surviving samurai soldiers crashed through the bushes in hot pursuit.

2

Trapped Like Crabs

‘Do you think we’ve lost them?’ panted Saburo, his chest heaving.

Hidden behind a tree, Jack and the others peered back through the forest. Being young had been an advantage in their escape, since their larger, less agile pursuers were slowed by the dense thicket. Gradually, the shouts of the samurai had grown more distant until they’d faded altogether.

Braving another look, Saburo ventured further from the cover of the tree.

Thunk!

An arrow implanted itself in the trunk just short of his nose.

‘I think that answers your question!’ said Miyuki, dragging the startled Saburo away.

The four friends shot off again. They fled through the forest, paying no heed to direction. Branches whipped at their faces and tore at their clothes. Jack felt the air burn in his lungs as they vaulted fallen logs and weaved through clumps of trees.

To Jack, it seemed as if he’d been running forever.

Before his friends had joined him, he’d been chased by samurai, ninja, dōshin officers, metsuke spies and, most relentless of all, his old school rival Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang. And since departing Tamagashi village, every day had been a perilous tightrope of evasion, concealment and constant flight. Cautious to avoid major settlements and the busy coastal road, the four fugitives had been forced to negotiate tangled forests and treacherous mountain paths. They couldn’t risk staying for more than a night in a single place, fearful of being spotted and reported to a local samurai lord. Yet despite this urgency, their progress had been slow upon their journey southwest towards Nagasaki, the port from where Jack hoped to find a ship bound for England.

The one good thing was that the further south they travelled, the better the weather became. Signs of spring were emerging and the snow of winter had all but melted away, only clinging to the mountain peaks. With this came a bountiful supply of food as the forests around them sprang to life. Blessed with a ninja’s knowledge of fieldcraft, Jack and Miyuki knew how to live off the land. This meant they weren’t so reliant upon local farmers for provisions.

Yet they couldn’t avoid contact all the time. Early in their journey their route passed through the riverport of Kurashiki. For a few days they sheltered in the village of Kasaoka while Yori recovered from a fever, until rumours of their presence were leaked to a passing samurai patrol. And on several occasions they had to stop and buy more rice. But their greatest concern had been the castle town of Fukuyama. The settlement was swarming with samurai. Unfortunately, it was the sole crossing point for the Ashida River. There were no bridges along this broad fast-flowing watercourse, only a ferry service within the town itself. Having no other option, the four of them took to Fukuyama’s backstreets. With Jack keeping his head down – his foreign face, blue eyes and blond hair concealed beneath a wide straw hat – they made the ferry crossing unnoticed. Or so they had thought …

‘This way!’ cried a furious samurai, hacking a path through the undergrowth.

Jack and the others increased their pace, Miyuki leading the way up a ridge. The ground underfoot became rocky, then began to slope downwards. All of a sudden, they broke into a clearing of hard-packed gravel. Miyuki skidded to a halt beside a small wooden temple. Inside, a statue of the Buddha sat facing east towards a view of such breathtaking beauty that it caused them all to pause.

A glassy blue sea like a mirror to the sky stretched towards the horizon, from where the rising sun shone bright as gold. Myriad islands shimmered like emerging clouds, each one melting into the next. At the foot of the hillside, the gentle sweep of a horseshoe harbour cradled a small fishing port. Grey and blue tiled roofs rippled down the slopes to the water’s edge, where a flotilla of boats bobbed quietly beside the jetty.

‘The Seto Sea,’ Yori breathed in awe.

Jack also gazed in wonder at the sight. This was the first time he’d laid eyes upon any sea since leaving Akiko in Toba the year before. The vision brought a lump to his throat as a wave of memories and hopes for the future washed over him. Prior to his samurai training, he’d been a rigging monkey on-board the Alexandria. His father had been the ship’s pilot and they’d set sail round the world to make their fortune. It was upon this voyage that Jack had learnt his father’s skills and been introduced to the rutter – an invaluable navigational logbook that was the only means of ensuring safe passage across the world’s oceans. His father had taught him its secrets and the logbook had become their bond. Jack could feel the rutter’s reassuring weight in his pack now and, combined with the sight of the sea, an unexpected smile lit up his face as he recalled happier times in his life. The ocean was beckoning to him. Home felt closer already.

Miyuki was less impressed by the view. ‘This is a headland. We’ve got nowhere left to run!’

An arrow whizzed past, sounding a heavy beat as it struck a wooden pillar of the temple.

‘We’ve no choice but to keep going,’ urged Jack, the pursuing samurai almost on their heels. ‘Perhaps we can lose them in the port, then double back.’

Leaving the shrine, the four of them raced down the gravel path and entered the port’s narrow twisting streets. They flew past bleary-eyed fishermen, weaved between the wooden shuttered shops and homes, and ducked down alleyways. Behind, they heard the outraged calls of the soldiers as they lost sight of their quarry. Cutting down a narrow alley, they passed a line of white plastered warehouses before coming to a dead end.

‘Back the other way!’ said Miyuki in alarm.

They retraced their steps to the previous street, but heard the pounding of urgent footsteps headed their way. With nowhere to go, the four of them dived behind a wooden water butt and pressed themselves flat against the alley wall.

A moment later, two samurai appeared. But they only gave a cursory glance down the alley before running on.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack whispered, ‘They’ve split up. We need to keep an eye out for the others.’

He led his friends across the street and down an opposite passageway. This time they found themselves at the water-washed steps of the harbour, where a majestic stone lantern, the height of a small tree, stood as the port’s lighthouse. There was a salty whiff of seaweed and drying fish, further reminding Jack of his seafaring days. Alongside the dock, he noticed the first catch of the day was already laid out for sale – baskets of prawns; racks of bream, mackerel, sweet fish and other seafood; as well as large pots of squirming crabs, all trying to escape their fate.

At the opposite end of the harbour, a second group of samurai charged out of an alleyway. Before they had a chance to spot the four fugitives, Miyuki slid open a door to a warehouse and ushered everyone inside. They entered the cool interior of a saké brewery. Round casks of rice wine were piled ten high in readiness for shipment.

‘Now we’re really trapped!’ Saburo exclaimed, finding no other exit from the darkened warehouse.

Just like those crabs, thought Jack.

3

Pilgrims

‘It’s only a matter of time before they find us,’ said Yori, peeking through the gap in the door.

The samurai were scouring the streets and checking each of the buildings in turn. But, with the sun up, the harbour was coming to life and the soldiers’ task was hampered as clusters of people gathered along the harbour side.

‘We have to make a stand,’ said Miyuki, reaching for her sword.

Jack shook his head, realizing the futility of their situation. ‘If I hand myself over, at least there’s a chance you can all escape.’

‘Jack, we didn’t come this far to give up now,’ countered Saburo.

‘I can’t let you sacrifice yourselves like this –’

Yori interrupted him. ‘Remember what Sensei Yamada once said: A samurai alone is like a single arrow. Deadly but capable of being broken. Only by binding together as a single force will we remain strong and unconquerable.’

He went and stood beside Saburo and Miyuki.

‘Forever bound to one another. Isn’t that what Akiko vowed to you, Jack? Well, we are too.’

Jack looked at his friends. Their unwavering loyalty astounded him. He knew this was what it meant to be samurai – and ninja, for that matter.

‘I’m honoured to have such friends,’ he said, humbled, and bowed his respect. ‘We had better make a plan then.’

Miyuki patted one of the saké casks upon which an oil lamp sat. ‘We can set fire to the place as a diversion.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Too many innocent people could be hurt.’

‘What about hiding among the crowd?’ Saburo suggested. ‘It’s getting busy out there.’

Jack and the others peered through the doorway. Aside from the fishermen and dockhands, there were several groups of men and women queuing to join boats lined along the jetty. Many of these were dressed identically in white breeches, white jackets, straw hats and sandals. A white bag was slung across each of their shoulders, and round their necks hung a dark-blue stole – the rectangular cloth being the only item not coloured white. In one hand, each held a set of rosary beads; in the other, a wooden staff with a small bell attached to the handle.

‘It’s like a gathering of winter ninja,’ remarked Jack, throwing a wry grin in Miyuki’s direction. When she’d come looking for him, she’d been wearing an all-white shinobi shozoku, the customary ninja garb for missions in snow. Miyuki had since reversed her clothes to the black side, concealing them beneath a plain brown kimono.

‘They’re pilgrims,’ explained Yori.

‘We could ask them to pray for our escape!’ Saburo quipped, his nerves evident in his strained attempt at humour.

Jack saw the samurai working their way down the harbour, getting closer with every step. ‘I think we’ll need more than prayers.’

Yori turned to him. ‘This fishing port must be Tomo Harbour. Followers of Kobo Daishi, the Great Saint, pass through here to get to Shikoku Island, where they embark upon a pilgrimage of eighty-eight temples in his honour.’

‘But why are they all dressed in white?’ Jack asked.

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