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  The first ninja attacked. Kuno flashed aside and took the man’s head off almost without thought. He let the next attack come in, then the next and the next. He killed each man with a single perfect blow.

  Ninja leapt to the nearby rocks and hurtled knives and throwing spikes, but Bifuuko set up a swirl of air that sent the weapons tumbling uselessly in flight. Kuno saw his enemies balk. He suddenly launched forward to cut down the nearest man and slice another almost in two. Men with chains and kama tried to entangle him; he seized one man’s chain and tugged him in, running the man through. His long sword lifted another chain as it hissed towards his jaw, whipping the attack up and away. He cut down his attacker with a lightning flash of his sword.

  A ninja wielding a short spear with a treble weighted chain attached at the butt whipped the vicious weights down to try and smash Kuno to the ground. Kuno parried, but the chains whipped around and around the Blue Serpent sword, wrenching it out of his hands. The samurai leapt in towards his opponent, running the man through with his short sword. But ninja swarmed forward, and Kuno had to leave the Blue Serpent where it lay.

  Daitanishi sped past Kuno and slammed into a ninja archer that had mounted a high rock. The ninja fell, slipping and sliding on the rocks, then tumbled screaming over the edge of a precipice. Still armed with his short sword, Kuno pulled back towards the cliff.

  With the three armoured Spirit Hunters entangled in the desperate fight, advancing forward into a storm of enemies, the ninja leader lifted one hand and signalled. A second wave of assassins – a dozen men – all sped forward to cross the stream to surround the Spirit Hunters and slaughter them from behind. They plunged into the broad stream, wading through the current across the slippery rocks. Suddenly Chiri rose up from the rocks on the far shore.

  “Little sisters of the stream!

  Ladies dancing all unseen!

  Children of the dragon lord!

  Rise up now and be my sword!”

  Water elementals burst into life all through the stream. Like vicious dragon eels, the creatures whipped about the legs of the ninja in mid-stream, wrenching them down into the water. Caught by the current on the slippery rocks, ninja were swept screaming out over the falls. Only three managed to escape the current, fleeing back and away from the snatching, snapping elementals.

  Driving forward at the sharp brink of the cliff, Sura found herself locked blade to blade with the female ninja leader once more. The ninja woman managed to evade a sudden death at the end of Sura’s spear. She tried to close, but the spear was swift and deadly. The ninja parried again and again, narrowly avoiding the fox’s viciously clever hooks and twists as Sura tried to disarm her or take her hands clean off at the wrist. The ninja ducked a narrow flash of the spear past her face, stung into fury as she heard the fox laugh. The ninja woman dropped one of her swords and managed to seize hold of Sura’s spear. With her other hand, she lunged inwards, yelling in triumph as she drove her blade home right towards Sura’s belly.

  Sura vanished – changing to fox form and leaving her empty clothes and breastplate to fall to the ground. The fox ran dashing along the spear haft, up and over the ninja and down her back. She locked her fangs in the woman’s backside – choosing a different cheek to the last time. An instant later, Sura flashed back into half-animal form. She spun on the ground, kicking the ninja’s legs out from beneath her. The woman spilled to the slippery ground, dropping spear and sword. She fell tumbling and sliding on the rocks, scrabbled madly for a handhold – missed – and plunged over the cliff.

  The ninja woman crashed onto rocks near the cave ledge two dozen yards below. She frenziedly caught a handhold, narrowly avoiding dropping hundreds of feet further to her doom.

  Hurt and stunned, the woman blew upon a whistle and bellowed upwards to her Ninja.

  “Reinforcements! Bring them all!”

  One of her ninja heard her cry. The man sped back to the woods, where another ninja drew forth a heavy conch-shell trumpet. He blew a great raucous, awful note, the sound echoing through the forest.

  More ninja had been stationed on other forest paths. They came at a run, gathering at the forest edge, ready to attack.

  Chiri’s magic had been all but expended by summoning the water elementals. Kuno was armed only with his short sword, with the Demon Slayer blade slung at his back. Sura put her robes about herself, standing beside Tonbo, eyeing the swarms of ninja gathering to charge them in one massive rush.

  Kuno suddenly strode to the edge of the cliff. He pulled the brocade bundle from his back and tore away the wrappings, revealing the sheathed sword within. He held the sword aloft and shouted.

  “Ninja! A sword is a thing of life and honour! I shall never allow the Demon Slayer to be dishonoured by your evil hands!” Kuno turned towards the river gorge and cocked back his arm. “A gift to the River Dragon! With compliments of Fukose Genjo!”

  The samurai hurtled the wondrous sword far, far out into empty space. The blade whirled, glittering in the air high above the gorge – then plunged down towards the deep, swift waters far below. The ninja leader, clambering slowly back up the cliff, watched aghast and helpless as the sword sailed down, down, down and finally struck the water, vanishing in the deeps.

  Two ninja slid down the side of the cliffs to aid their leader. Appalled, one man could only stare down at the river.

  “He threw it!”

  The second man shook his head in disbelief. “It was only the map sword.”

  “No – the map sword is there, on the ground!”

  “Then it was his own blade!”

  The ninja leader sagged. She looked sourly at the great, rushing river far below.

  “Fool! The sword is the spirit of the samurai! No samurai would hurl away his own sword!”

  The first ninja looked at the deep green waters.

  “Can we dive for it?”

  “The current is fast. The water deep.” The ninja leader stared bitterly down at the current. “The river dragon has taken a princely gift.”

  The three ninja made their way diagonally up and along the rocks, climbing up and out onto the top of the cliff. The leader surveyed the four Spirit Hunters. The two elementals hovered beside them, promising yet more deadly magic to face an incoming assault. The leader raised a hand and closed it into a fist. The ninja at the forest edge all pulled back into the shadows.

  The woman glared at the Spirit Hunters.

  “A ninja fights only to purpose. We will not waste ninja lives in destroying you now.” She turned and walked away into the forest. “Farewell, Spirit Hunters.”

  The ninja ran upstream and vanished, leaving the four companions alone on the rocky cliff top, surrounded by the dead. Kuno turned to face the river. He bowed his head, stoic but deeply saddened. Chiri quietly came to be with him, gazing up at him with infinite kindness and understanding.

  “You did right, Kuno san. There was no way to save the sword.”

  Sura stared unhappily at the river. Her tail dragged.

  “The master made and hid the Demon Slayer sword for a reason. He knew it would be needed.”

  The fox sighed – feeling horribly defeated.

  “We have failed.”

  Kuno looked at the waters and gave a sigh.

  “No, Sura san. You are right. The Demon Slayer sword was for a higher purpose. It is our duty to see that it reaches the right hands.”

  Kuno drew out the sword that still remained sheathed on his belt. The blade shimmered and shone.

  It was the Demon Slayer.

  Sura and Chiri stared at the sword. Tonbo moved forward. He rested a hand upon Kuno’s shoulder in sympathy and respect, knowing what he had done.

  The big warrior saw Sura and Chiri’s confusion. Tonbo turned to them and quietly explained.

  “Kuno san threw his own sword into the river. He swapped swords in the cave.”

  Kuno stoically sheathed the Demon Slayer. His voice was sad.

  “Sacrifice is not dishonourable.
Duty comes before the self.”

  Tonbo moved off into the rocks and retrieved the Blue Serpent sword. The big man spun the weapon skilfully in his hands, then proffered it formally to Kuno.

  “Here is its replacement: Friendship’s Sword. Made by a master – to be used by one who knows the value of a friend.”

  Kuno took the sword into his hands. He bowed profoundly to Tonbo, deeply moved.

  “I will use it in honour – for my friends.”

  He slid the sword through his belt, breathing upon the menuki pin and then neatly looping and draping the sheath cords into place.

  Sura took reverent possession of the Demon Slayer sword. She cradled it carefully in her arms.

  “We will send the Demon Slayer to Imperial Magistrate Masura.” The fox took up her spear. “He will know when it is time for the sword to come forth.”

  They turned to leave. Tonbo led the way back towards the forest path, moving with his silent, powerful gait. Sura and Chiri came behind him, the two elementals floating along just above.

  Kuno lingered at the cliff edge for a moment. He bowed solemnly to the waterfall cave then walked off after his friends. He joined them amongst the tall, whispering pines, and together they made the long, quiet walk back down towards their boat far, far downstream.

  On the following day, the Spirit Hunters were making ready to depart the beautiful river town. Sura had spent the evening making great inroads into Lord Ishigi’s pantry. She was now settling her travelling gear into place, chatting with Ishigi samurai as she stuffed her pack full of thieved delicacies. Rumours of battles against massed evil ninja had raced about the town. Sura waved it all away with false modesty, but still managed to accept drinks from anybody who would hand her one.

  It was time to go. The four friends finally walked down to the river docks, revelling in the cool river wind. Riverboats were unpacking goods, sending bales to the local market. Out in the river a few hundred yards away, the huge island temple glimmered in the sun. Its tori gates, walls, rooves and banners all shone with warm morning light.

  Reiju and the local lawman, Amamiya, were awaiting them beside the river. Amamiya moved forward and bowed to the Spirit Hunters in deep gratitude, his face full of relief.

  “Spirit Hunters, we thank you for your efforts. We are indebted to you for your service.”

  Reiju innocently cleared her throat, looking up into the sky.

  “Amamiya san asked what gift might be most appropriate in thanks.” The priestess gave a little bow. “I offered my advice.”

  Amamiya turned to one of his men. The retainer carried forth a beautiful porcelain jug, signed and sealed. Amamiya gave another bow.

  “Plum wine – the finest in the empire.”

  Sura was delighted! She made to take charge of the bottle, but Tonbo intercepted it. He put it into his own pack beside more prosaic gifts given to them by Lord Ishigi – food, clothing and a full purse of travel money.

  The Spirit Hunters bowed to Amamiya and Reiju. Amamiya walked on a little way with Kuno, Chiri and Tonbo, discussing the best route on into other lands. Reiju remained at the river banks with Sura, walking quietly at her side.

  The beautiful priestess was deep in thought. She glanced hesitantly at Sura, sensing that all was not well between them. Finally, she stopped and turned to look out across the river.

  “It has been a gift from heaven to have you with me again, Sura san. You are a ray of sun to me.”

  Reiju’s confusion broke into her voice.

  “I am your friend. I – I trust there is nothing wrong between us?”

  Sura looked to Reiju. The fox turned, and lovingly stroked Reiju’s face. She straightened, and seemed to leave a burden far behind.

  “I am your true friend. Nothing is wrong between us.” Sura gave a rueful smile. “I have been adrift. Perhaps I am finding my way.”

  The two women embraced, holding one another tightly. When they finally separated, Reiju gripped Sura by the hand.

  “Go with the gods, Spirit Hunter.”

  “Go in love, Sword Priestess.”

  Sura walked forward to join the other Spirit Hunters. She topped beside Tonbo, keeping her eyes upon the road ahead.

  “Tonbo san – Chiri, Kuno and I must just arrange for our package to be sent. I regret that we must leave you for a few minutes.”

  Sura nodded a small bow. She walked off with the others towards the river boats, where a discrete man would accept delivery of the Demon Slayer sword – cleverly hidden inside a consignment of other blades destined for Magistrate Masura.

  Tonbo was left alone with Reiju. They stood together on the riverbanks, quite at a loss for words. Both blushed, then walked a little way to stand beneath a tree that shimmered with glorious golden flowers.

  After a while, Reiju quietly spoke.

  “It has been wonderful to meet you, Tonbo san. I have enjoyed your company.”

  “I have enjoyed meeting you, Reiju san. Very much.”

  Blushing, Reiju reached up to pluck a single flower from the tree. She placed it into Tonbo’s hand, and covered it with her own.

  “It is said that if two people cast a flower together into the river, and the flower floats face-up, then they are fated to meet again.”

  They threw the blossom together, letting it sail out into the river breeze. The flower landed face-up in the water, shining bright. Slowly, gracefully, the flower floated off downstream.

  Reiju closed her eyes.

  “Goodbye, Tonbo san.”

  “Goodbye Reiju san.”

  Tonbo drew forth a little origami caricature of himself. He gently placed the figure into Reiju’s hands.

  “I leave this with you.” The samurai gave a warm, quiet bow. “I believe the scowl is just as you would want it to be.”

  Down at the river docks, the delivery had been arranged. Sura took up her backpack and spear, settling a straw travel hat upon her head. Kuno took one last satisfied look at the island and town, then turned to face the road that led up and away from the river, up into the distant mountains. He drew the Blue Serpent – ‘Friendship’s Sword’ – part way out of its sheath, looking at the magnificent blade in astonished satisfaction. He then settled the weapon back into its scabbard, drew a deep breath, and began the march up and away to new horizons.

  Behind him, Chiri linked arm in arm with Sura. The rat was well aware of Sura’s troubled heart. She looked back to see Tonbo taking his leave of Reiju, and squeezed gently at Sura’s arm.

  “You seem… better, Sura san.”

  The fox gave a wan little sigh.

  “Friendship is a blending of many things – like the folded metal in a sword. It must be strong. It must be flexible.” She gratefully held Chiri’s hand.

  “A pure blade cannot break.”

  Tonbo caught up with them, smiling as he joined them side by side. They walked together, chatting happily in the sunshine. All four friends walked on and up; up out of the river gorge, on into a world of sun, tall grass, and drifting dandelion down.

  Seventh Encounter:

  The Forest of Lies

  Chapter 1

  A deserted road led through abandoned fields and on into a dark, still forest. The sky hung dark with clouds. The scent of lightning was sharp and metallic in the air, and distant thunder grumbled.

  Sano Moko rode in full armour down the road, her horse’s hooves thudding hard into the dust. Distant lightning rippled light across her armour. She leaned forward, riding swiftly, a long naginata locked tight beneath her arm. The samurai woman raced to beat the oncoming storm, hoping for some sign of a village at the forest’s edge.

  She came closer to the forest. Tall trees were stark, black shadows against the clouds. A distant lightning flash lit up the forest eaves, and showed a single figure on the road ahead.

  A man was struggling towards the trees, dragging a heavy cart behind him. The cart was massively over-laden with heavy wooden barrels, a blazing torch affixed to the frame.


  The man struggled and slipped in the dust of the road. Somehow he shifted the massive load, trying to move it step by step towards the forest. He babbled to himself, sweating and shaking his head. Oil sloshed out of the cart behind him, spilling from buckets hanging here and there all along the sides.

  Sano Moko slewed her galloping horse to a halt beside the cart. The man was staring at the forest with glazed eyes, running with sweat. He was dressed in rags – his back hunched and belly swollen. Clearly the man was mad. Moko backed her horse, keeping pace with the man, sternly calling down to him through the rising wind.

  “Hey, you there! Don’t keep a naked flame near all that oil!”

  The babbling man ignored her. He had eyes only for the trees – only for the darkness. He lunged forward, desperately trying to drag the cart onwards down the road.

  “Burn! It has to burn!” The man drove forward, lost in a universe of pain and madness. “All will be cleansed. Clean! It must be clean!”

  A lightning flash clearly showed the man’s face – horribly lumpen and disfigured. Sano Moko recoiled in shock. She caught herself – steeled herself – then tried to turn her horse to block the man’s way.

  “Hey! You there! Don’t you know to bow when you meet a samurai?”

  The man looked up at Moko. He was battling obscene pain, sweating and shaking.

  Suddenly something seemed to move underneath the swollen skin of his belly. He fixed horrified eyes upon Sano Moko’s face, seeming to see her at last.