Black Dove

About the Author

Stuart Campbell has been practicing and teaching martial arts for over 35 years, the last 25, under Grandmaster Masaaki Hatsumi, head of the Bujinkan Dojo, Noda, Japan.

He holds a teachers license in the Bujinkan and has trained under Hatsumi and various high-ranking Shihan in his home country of New Zealand and abroad, including the birth place of Ninjutsu, Japan.

During his many years of training, Stuart has gained valuable insights into Martial Arts and in particular, the shrouded arts and history of Japan’s legendary shadow warriors.

This is his first novel in which he endeavours to give the reader a glimpse into the true nature and philosophy of these arts and how they were used to shape Japanese history, ultimately for the better.

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Forward Throughout history, humankind has been involved in various degrees of conflict. Usually these are the result of greed, the quest for power, or a clash of religious beliefs or ideologies. In nearly every example, there are those who find themselves disadvantaged and lacking in the basic freedoms. Overall, such situations are usually the result in the superior force using brutal and extreme methods to enforce their control and influence.

One example was the feudal system of Japan. This saw the ruling elite, the Samurai, organise themselves into a hierarchical structure, encompassed in an entity called a Shogunate. This structure consisted of four tiers, the Emperor at the top, the Shogun, followed by Daimyo (Lords) and finally the Samurai. In most cases, the Emperor was little more than a figurehead and had no say in the running of the country. This was not dissimilar to other feudal systems around the world in the same era, such as in Great Britain.

Just as in other parts of the world, where a political structure afforded so few so much, so in Japan, the lower class organised themselves into pockets of resistance groups. In secret, they honed their skills, developing clandestine techniques and methods to outsmart and overthrow their oppressors.

Two such areas of Japan where these groups flourished, were the mountainous regions of Iga and Koga on the main island of Honshu. In these areas the so-called peasant class and farmers organised themselves into Ninja clans - tight knit groups who trained in secret. These clans comprised 11

primarily of immediate and extended family; in this way, they could be trusted to keep these techniques and activities secret from the brutal Samurai.

These clans were organised into a hierarchical structure, usually consisting of three main levels; the Jonin commander, Chunin - the middle man and the Genin - the foot soldiers. They also employed various types of spies and accomplices to assist in the gathering and dissemination of information.

During the early periods these warriors were collectively called Shinobi or Ninja, the literal translation of the latter, “those who steal away�, however, this was a title that was rarely used by the Ninja themselves. Instead they just considered themselves fortunate enough to have the skills and abilities to make a difference.

The techniques and martial arts skills of the Ninja depicted in this work are real and would have been used in the manner in which they are described. The historical image of a darkly clad figure whose only role was that of assassination, is by no means a complete or accurate depiction of the shadow warriors of the past.

It is the authors wish to shed light on the real people later described as Ninja, their skills and mindset, and the oppressive environment that motivated ordinary people, to develop and employ extraordinary measures to bring about a more peaceful existence.

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Black Dove Prologue The dark clad figure hastily made his way along the dimly lit corridor. In his wake, he left a trail of destruction; decimated and bloodied bodies littered the castle, as if a wild animal had been let loose and in desperation fought brutally to avoid its capture.

This was far from his usual means of operation; which was to remain invisible, to enter and exit without being seen, leaving no trace. The more successful he was at this, the more time he would have to get to away safety before someone raised the alarm. However, the occupants of the castle were already aware of his presence and he found himself hunted like a frightened fox trying to escape from a pack of angry dogs. Appropriately, he adopted the foxes� persona, moving erratically through the labyrinth of stairs and corridors to outsmart his pursuers. His years of training and experience had taught him that his greatest ally was to keep composed and alert.

Every so often he stopped to listen, using his acute sense of hearing to paint a picture of where the enemy was and more importantly, where they were not. He was well aware of how long he had been in the castle and knew he had to reach the outside before a set time. Otherwise, a message would be sent, informing his master that the mission had failed. Such news would set off a chain reaction that would be impossible to stop. His experience had taught him that 15

patience was one of his best tools; however, there was no changing the alarm mechanism, he had set earlier that night.

He had to keep moving, if he didn’t reach this in time the consequences would be disastrous, not only for himself, but for many others as well. The hasty footfalls of the enemy were getting louder. He made a split-second decision to continue down the wide stone corridor, instead of returning to the relative safety of the narrow passageways within the walls. He knew that remaining in the open was treacherous, but it could not be helped, this was the most direct route to his destination and freedom. Besides, the risks of reaching his goal, far outweighed the consequences of not reaching it. He called forth the last reserves of energy he had left, forcing his legs to move faster, time was definitely against him.

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TEN Chapter 1 – Sudden awakening The shaft of sunlight pierced the narrow slit in the shutter, announcing a new day. Like a thin iridescent column, it pierced through the darkness. Its brilliant light spreading out, as it bounced off the wall on the opposite side of the room, subtly illuminating the rest of the space and waking its sole inhabitant.

Instinctively the young man opened his eyes and looked up at the wall above him. Looking at the series of lines drawn on the wall, he knew the exact time. He was well aware that as soon as the band of sun hit the second winter mark, he had to be washed, dressed and his bed put away, ready for his morning ritual.

It was March, in the year 1332, Kansai Tokugawa who had recently turned 14, was beginning to feel the pressure of adulthood. He was taller than other boys his age, just under six foot, but his height and serious demeanour gave the impression that he was several years older. Nevertheless, his slightly muscular frame and his youthful features would have indicated his true age to any discerning eye. He was at a time of maturity and was feeling the growing pains of his metamorphosis from boy to manhood. His legs ached as he moved, but resisting the urge to succumb to the pain and return to his bed, he stood bolt upright.

He discarded the thick blanket, shedding it like an unwanted second skin, its warmth giving way to the brisk 17

morning air and seizing his exposed areas of flesh. In a natural response, the hairs on his arms rose in an attempt to trap air, acting as a natural barrier against the cold.

He carefully folded his blanket and mattress, and stacked them neatly in the corner of the room. Moving into position, he captured the line of sunlight on his torso, arranging himself so that it ran from the centre of his nose, through his navel and between his feet. In a rhythmic fashion he began rocking from side to side, each repetition he counted to himself, making sure the light touched each side of his body before changing direction.

Once he had counted to 100, he moved broadside to the light and stepped forward, this time ensuring that the light ran down the side of his body. Hinging backwards and forwards and counting as he passed through centre, keeping the light parallel to his spine and his back straight when performing this exercise. After reaching 50, he changed, performing the same exercise on the other side.

With each repetition, he focussed on his breathing, in at the start and out on the return. This he knew provided valuable oxygen to his muscles, feeding the tiny cellular furnaces that enabled him to make the most of his body. More importantly, he could feel his flowing unimpeded through his subtle body, each breath accompanied by the visualisation of a white light flowing up through his feet, saturating his body with the rich life force.

Moving on to the next exercise, he spread his legs apart and arched forward, placing his hands on the floor between his legs. Then slowly he leaned forward until the entire weight of his body rested on his hands. He focussed his mind and with complete control of his balance, raised his feet off the 18

floor, extending them above his body and into a handstand.

He paused for a moment, adjusting his balance by using subtle movements of his legs, substituting his fingers for the usual function of his toes. He also conducted the mental exercise of visualising a vertical shaft of light up his spine, to keep his body straight. He knew this would require as much mental as physical balance and he used this as an exercise to also adjust his balance of mind. This came from his deep understanding of the distinct correlation between his physical training and the polarising effect it had on his psyche. This he had learnt from an early stage in his martial arts training. Once he had steadied himself, he walked on his hands around the room several times, even running and often stopping, then reversing his direction. He had been taught by his teacher, that he should be as comfortable on his hands as he was on his feet, however he was not completely sure why. After several more drills he completed his routine.

He pushed open the shutters and immediately felt the warmth of the new day sun on his bare chest. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing deeply and filling his lungs with the cool outside air. Even though it was cold inside, he had quickly worked up a sweat, the beads of moisture sparkling like diamonds as the sunlight reflected off them. Slipping on his thick robe, he slid open the Shoji screen door to the veranda of the house and stepping outside he closed the door behind him, putting on his slippers.

Careful not to wake anyone, he walked silently along the veranda to the small set of steps at the front of the house.

Avoiding the noisy treads, he walked down the angled stringer board instead and made his way to the large 19

Cryptomeria tree at the front of the house. Underneath this, a large wooden barrel collected water from a series of bamboo half pipes and tubes tethered to it.

There was a fine coating of frost on the ground and as he walked, a soft rumble from the compressed ice crystals filled the otherwise silent morning air. The barrel was full and a thin sheet of ice floated on top of the water. He removed the ice, picked up the ladle hanging on the side and poured the freezing water over his head. As the stream of icy water washed over his body, it felt like hot shards of hot steel cutting into his flesh. His muscles tensed instinctively in an attempt to pump blood to the worst affected areas, but this provided little respite from the penetrating nature of the icy cold water. He repeated the exercise, rubbing his body several times with his free hand after each dousing to remove the salty sweat from his pores.

Before reaching for another ladle, he paused, scanning the horizon to the north looking for a familiar sight, the spectre of a white dove flying up the valley. Every morning, without fail, one would arrive, land on his uncle’s roof and make its way to the coup at the side of his house. Putting its weight on the threshold, it would trigger a mechanism that opened the small door, letting it in; at the same time ringing a small bell on the front of the coup. However, this morning it was nowhere to be seen. This was not the first time it had been late, but something didn’t feel right, there seemed to be an unusual tension in the air.

He finished drying himself and was about to put on his robe, when he felt something touch him on the shoulder.

This sent a cold shiver down his spine; at the same time, a gust of cold wind rushed past his head. He was sure he heard someone whisper, ’Kansai’, it sounded like his father.

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He turned and expected to see someone behind him, but no one was there; however, his attention was then drawn to a small shape in the sky in the distance.

At first, he thought it was the white dove, but as it flew closer, he could see it was dark like a crow; these were also quite common in the area. But, moments later, it landed on his uncle’s roof, it was something he had never seen before, a black dove. It made its way to the doorway of the coup and standing on the threshold, triggered the bell, breaking the morning silence.

Moments later, the Shoji screen of his uncle’s house slid open. There stood his uncle, he looked across the lane at Kansai and smiled. Then looking upwards, he saw the black bird; he was not expecting to see this and his smile instantly disappeared, replaced by a look of absolute shock. He looked back in the direction of Kansai; his eyes were black and seemed to pierce the very core of his being. At that moment, Kansai heard the door of his own house slide open and turned to see his mother. The expression on her face, a mix of fear and anguish.

She looked up at the coup, focussing on the black dove; Kansai had no idea what was happening or why this bird had caused such alarm. His mother gazed back to the leanto at the side of the house; it was empty, his father had not returned home from the markets. Last night, Kansai had heard him tell her that he would be back late, but there was no evidence of his return. She looked at her brother, then they both stared at Kansai, he was somewhat taken aback by the unwanted attention. At the same time the bright morning sun disappeared, blocked by a large cloud, as if an omen. The air around him seemed to thicken and

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instinctively, he somehow knew that things were about to change forever.

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