Chapter 46 : Mountain Monk

Tadashi ran over to Jack. Pale-faced and sweating, his eyes as wide as

saucers, he garbled something incomprehensible then passed out at Jack's

feet.

Jack looked down at the comatose traitor. He had little sympathy for

his old training partner and false friend who had cheated twice during the

Circle of Three. He deserved his fate.

Two monks rushed over and dragged Tadashi to his feet. One threw

water over him to try to revive him. The boy spluttered, opened his eyes,

screamed at something unseen, then fainted again.

Feverish whispering broke out among the school as they pondered

what could have caused such shock and terror in Tadashi during his Spirit

challenge.

'What on earth's up there?' asked Kazuki of the High Priest, pointing

to the craggy peak of the highest mountain in the Iga range.

This third peak loomed over the small grassy plateau where the final

Circle of Three entrants now stood, guarded by a ring of troops from the

Castle of the White Phoenix in case of another ninja attack.

'Don't ask yourself what's at the top of the mountain, ask what's on

the other side,' the priest replied cryptically. Then he pointed at Jack.

'You're next.'

Jack stepped forward but was held back by Akiko, who had placed her

hand on his arm. 'Are you sure you should be doing this?'

'I've come too far to turn back now,' he replied. But Jack's physical

and mental fatigue were obvious in the heavy roughness of his voice and

the watery glaze to his eyes.

'But you almost died last night,' she pleaded, squeezing his arm

gently.

Jack, comforted by Akiko's concern, replied, 'Sensei Kano says I'll be

fine. Besides I can rest all I want after this final challenge.'

'That's if you make it. You saw the state of Tadashi. Whatever's up

there is not for the faint-hearted. You're not invincible, Jack, however much

you may wish you were.'

'I can do this,' Jack asserted, as much for his own reassurance as

Akiko's.

She let go of his arm and bowed to hide her fears. 'Be careful, Jack.

Don't lose your life in a rush to live.'

Jack had been given nothing but a fresh white robe to climb to the top of the

mountain. He had asked if he could take his swords or at least some water

for the Spirit challenge, but the High Priest had replied, 'All you need, you

already carry with you.'

As Jack set off up the path that wound its way to the peak, he was

cheered by his fellow students, all wishing him luck for this final challenge

of challenges. He spotted Yamato, Kiku and Saburo shouting their

encouragement and, behind them, Emi and her friends waving

enthusiastically.

He then passed the line of sensei and bowed his respects to each of

them in turn. Sensei Kano was not among the teachers. He was recovering

in the temple under the supervision of the medicine monk. The bō master

had been correct in his assumption that the iron spike was poisoned. Once

his wound had been cleaned and bound, he had drunk an evil-smelling

antidote concocted by the monk. He had been sick all night as a result.

Laughing as he threw up for a fourth time into a nearby bucket, the bō

master had assured Jack that this was all part of the purging process.

Last in line was Sensei Yamada. The Zen master stepped forward and

handed Jack a small origami crane.

'From Yori,' he explained with a cheerful smile. 'He wanted you to

carry it for luck. He also wanted you to know that he is feeling much better

and will be returning to Kyoto with us tomorrow.'

'That's great news,' replied Jack, taking the paper bird. 'Any final

words of advice, Sensei?'

'Follow the path and you won't get lost.'

'Is that it?' said Jack, surprised by the plain nature of the Zen master's

answer.

'Sometimes that is all that's required.'

* * *

The path was stony and difficult, wending a steep zigzag up the

mountainside. A rock gave way under Jack's foot and a small avalanche of

dust and stone clattered down the slope.

He paused to take a much-needed rest and sat down at the edge of the

path. The storm of the previous night had passed and a hot spring sun now

warmed his aching bones.

Above him, a hawk soared in the clear blue sky and Jack recalled

Sensei Yamada's reading of his dream. The bird represented strength and

quick-wittedness. Surely, this was a good sign.

Looking over the wide valley basin, Jack could see the school

watching him from the grassy plateau below. Up here everything was so

calm and peaceful, the air fresh and pure. Life gained a new perspective at

this height, he thought. The big became small, his worries disappeared into

the distance and the horizon promised new beginnings.

When Sensei Kano had returned with him to the temple after the ninja

attack, Jack had been relieved to see that Akiko was already there, safe and

sound, along with Yamato, Saburo and everyone else, even Kazuki.

Both Jack and Sensei Kano had been rushed to the temple's medicine

monk to be checked out. While Sensei Kano was busy throwing up as a

result of the purging potion, Jack was given a sedative to reduce his pain

and help him sleep. As he drifted off, Jack overheard Masamoto discussing

the raid with the commanding officer of the Castle of the White Phoenix.

The Commander believed it to be a raid by a local ninja clan. Jack had

groggily mumbled Dragon Eye's name and the Commander had nodded as

if he already knew. He confirmed to Masamoto that such attacks by

Dokugan Ryu's clan often occurred when there were visiting dignitaries like

Masamoto himself.

In the morning Jack had discovered that there had been a unanimous

decision to continue with the Circle of Three. Masamoto had announced

that no ninja clan would prevent the Niten Ichi Ryū completing an ancient

samurai tradition. Under armed guard, Jack and the three remaining

competitors were led up to the start point of the third and final challenge.

Jack glanced up at the craggy peak that thrust like an arrowhead into

the sky. Somewhere up there was the Spirit challenge.

What had terrified Tadashi so badly that he had returned a quivering

wreck? Jack couldn't believe that the challenge was any worse than having

his heart nearly explode inside his chest with the Death Touch.

Miraculously, he had survived.

Just.

He still had a pounding headache and his body felt as if it had been

beaten black and blue with iron rods. His heart throbbed, but he realized he

should be thankful that it was still beating at all.

Gazing in the direction of Kyoto, Jack wondered if Dragon Eye was

already on his way to Nijo Castle to steal the rutter. Jack realized now he

must tell Masamoto about it, but then he remembered that the ninja thought

he was dead. There would be no urgency for Dragon Eye to retrieve what

would always be there. It slowly dawned on Jack that if he could get back

to Kyoto before Dragon Eye decided to make his move, he could still save

the rutter.

Invigorated by this prospect, Jack began scaling the peak anew, fresh

hope in his heart.

Jack hesitated outside the entrance to a cave.

A few prayer flags fluttered in the high mountain breeze, but otherwise

the peak was desolate and bleak. There was no question that the path led

anywhere other than into the dark recesses of the mountain, but Jack was

still reluctant to enter. The black hole in the rock face was as inviting as the

mouth of a serpent.

Yet he had come this far. There was no point in turning back now.

Jack took a step inside. As soon as he had crossed the line from light to

shadow, the warmth of the sun disappeared and was replaced by a damp

chill.

He allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness and saw that the cave

was a rough tunnel cut deep into the heart of the mountain. The passageway

curved away into pitch-blackness. Taking one last look behind him at the

small circle of sunlight that marked his way out, he turned the corner and

entered the unknown.

For several moments he saw absolutely nothing. Not even his hand in

front of his face. Fighting the urge to flee, he edged deeper into the

darkness.

He had no idea how far he had gone when the wall he had been using

to guide him suddenly disappeared. Through the large crack in the rock,

Jack caught sight of a fiery red glow. With trepidation, he entered a small

cavern.

He gave a startled cry at what he saw.

A huge distorted shadow of an ogre towered over him, a massive club

in its hand.

'Welcome, young samurai,' spoke a quiet voice.

Jack spun round to where a saffron-robed monk with a bald round

head, a skinny neck and a childlike smile was feeding an open fire with a

twig.

A pot rested in the flames, happily boiling away.

'I'm just brewing some tea. Would you like some?'

Jack didn't answer. He was still shaken by the appearance of this tiny

man whose shadow seemed to have a grotesque life of its own.

'It's the finest sencha Japan has to offer,' insisted the monk, indicating

with a wave of his hand for Jack to sit.

'Who are you?' asked Jack, warily taking his place on the opposite

side of the crackling fire.

'Who am I? A very good question and one that takes a lifetime to

answer,' he replied, sprinkling tea leaves into the boiling pot. 'I can tell you

what I am. I am Yamabushi.'

Jack looked blankly at the old man.

'Literally, it means "one who hides in the mountains",' he explained,

tending the fire, 'but the villagers call me the Mountain Monk. They

occasionally come to me for spiritual healing and divination.'

He lifted the pot from the fire and poured a watery green brew into a

plain brown teacup. He handed Jack the steaming sencha.

'You cannot know who you are, unless you know how you are that

person.'

Though he didn't like green tea, Jack accepted the drink out of

courtesy. He took a sip. It tasted bitter. Certainly not the finest sencha Jack

had ever tried. Nonetheless, he smiled politely and took another gulp to

finish it quickly. Glancing round the cavern, he noticed it was empty apart

from a small shrine set into the rock, circled by flickering candles and

incense.

'Are you the Spirit challenge?' enquired Jack.

'Me? Of course not,' the monk chuckled, his laughter rebounding off

the cavern walls in eerie mocking echoes.

'You are.'