The Silver Flame

By James Carter

The Silver Flame is a razor sharp blade that shines like burning fire. It is exquisitely beautiful and never, ever short of admirers. An American civil war veteran and samurai-in-training called Red Phoenix obsesses over the weapon and the secret hidden inside its core; a lethal geisha known as Scarlet Orchid desires the killing instrument for its priceless value; and an illustrious thief named Howling Dog craves the sword for his lavish collection of samurai artefacts. In the race to secure possession of the weapon each will encounter treachery and each will suffer loss. Only one can survive the ordeal, only one can be what the others can’t, and only one will be able to resist the allure of the flickering blade.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Carter
• Release date: Jun 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476251226

James Carter

James Carter is an award-winning children's poet, non-fiction writer and musician. He has visited 1500+ schools in the UK and abroad in the last two decades and performed at such festivals as Edinburgh, Hay, Bath and Cheltenham. His buzzy, high energy poetry days/ Zooms are ultimately all about encouraging young writers.

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The Silver Flame

James Carter

Cover and Text Copyright held by Robert Henning and James Carter -- 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.

Smashwords Edition.

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Most people fear death when they are young. I say there is no better time to die.

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Characters

The spirits of the Floating World

Mai * Scarlet Orchid

Kaori * Songbird

Amaya * Jasmine Butterfly

Momoe * Mother

Etsuko * Lilac Chrysanthemum

Satoshi * Hairy Uncle

The samurai ghosts

Malachi Cole * Phoenix

Katsu * Leaping Spider

Isamu * Black Serpent

Katashi * Limping Tiger

Emi * Little Peach

Akiko * Auntie

The whispers in the dark

Toshiki Hosokawa * Howling Dog

Yoshiro Aso * Swooping Crane

Masato * Slippery Eel

*^*^*^*^*

The Land of the Rising Sun

1871

Chapter 1

The Silver Flame sliced through the droplet of emerald green water, splitting it in two. Alive, potent, harder than steel -- the blade swung to the left, moving across time and space in an arc that was tightly controlled. Phoenix instantly spun to his right as the tip of the sword flared in his line of vision and sent a rush of air past his cheek. The weapon was simply breathtaking, even when it threatened to decapitate.

Phoenix side-stepped across the lake’s shimmering surface, frantic to reposition himself. In a split second he thought about taking to the air and flying around his opponent, but that would be a fool’s errand. His blind nemesis could sense disturbance in the air and by the time he had landed their respective positions would have barely changed at all.

Keep moving, screamed the voice inside the soldier’s head.

He ran to the left, across planking coated in treacherous algae. Every step carried the risk of falling, tumbling, crashing, and still the shadow followed his path, unwavering in its commitment.

Damn him!

Water sprayed into the air as Phoenix slid to a halt and faced the immovable legend. The snake was only 30 feet away -- so patient, so still. Only the unexpected could pierce his armor, and even then the chance of success was slim.

Fleeting stillness descended over Phoenix’s mind, and in the space that opened up he saw the future clearly. He would part ways with the earth and aim for the left of the sun -- feet first, sword to the right, on a horizontal plane. He would cut through the Serpent’s midriff and into his very core.

Now!

Move now!

Power erupted from the warrior’s muscled legs, pushing and propelling and straining against gravity. Invisible chains snapped under the intense pressure and released the mythical bird into the sky. Shooting through clear silk and spinning around an invisible axis, his feet swung into position and his arms reached out, as if straining to touch the edges of the lake. Perfectly flat, dangerously smooth, on target and primed to kill.

The only warning came from the shimmer of light which flickered upwards, towards the barren sky, somersaulting and turning in a move that stopped the heart. And then it came thundering down with all the fury of the gods.

The Silver Flame…

Phoenix felt a spasm of pain run up his right arm and ricochet through his shoulder, almighty in its wrath and unrepentant in its touch.

Oh God!

For an agonizing moment the warrior thought he had lost an appendage.

Stolen by the fire…

And yet that couldn’t be; the snake would never go so far.

Gravity grabbed Phoenix and threw him into a world of sparkling green water. A shocking cold pressed against the warrior’s body and stole the heat from his imagined wound.

There! He saw it in the corner of his right eye... his sword had been sliced in half.

Phoenix let go of the blunt weapon, and as it floated away, so too did his outer shell. He was no longer a celestial bird wrapped in tongues of fire, or a spirit engaged in mortal combat.

Now he was simply a man.

Simply Malachi Cole.

The lake surface slowly fell down and parted around Malachi’s lips. Instinctively he took in a gulp of pure air and savored its remarkable taste. He was back from the dead. Cole let his feet touch ground, and with a light heave he rose up from his shallow grave.

And how is the water today?

The question came from the legend -- still the master, the teacher, the all-conquering Black Serpent.

Cole wiped a mat of dark brown hair from his eyes and fixed his gaze on the barely submerged platform that rested in the center of the emerald lake. The snake was standing on the planking with his blindfold removed and a look of amusement etched into his face.

It’s a little cold, replied Malachi in his fluent Japanese. Care to join me?

No thank you, replied the combat winner from his vantage point. I have already taken my bath for the week.

Cole made his way to the shoreline, and with every step he thanked the gods for the ruby red robe that clung to his body. It was sopping wet but the fabric trapped his body heat and kept him from hyperventilating.

Next time, swore the soldier to himself.

Next time he would do things differently.

Thank you for your efforts today, said Isamu at the edge of the water. The samurai had re-sheathed his flickering blade and politely offered a hand to Cole.

The American took the assistance, and once on dry land looked to his mentor with an expression of gratitude.

Thank you, master. I promise that one of these days you will be the one to rise from the lake.

The Black Serpent laughed in delight and patted his student on the shoulder.

I hope so. But hurry before I die of old age.

Malachi grinned at the barb and followed his mentor up a pathway towards home.

Any chance I can use the Flame next time? asked Cole with more than a prayer in the back of his mind.

No, replied Isamu almost immediately. Concentration is the art you must master. I doubt a burning blade will give you that.

But the Flame cut my sword in two, protested Malachi. I need a stronger weapon.

The Black Serpent shook his head in mock disgust and pressed ahead with the walk.

The poor workman always blames his tools. Always…

Cole let the matter rest and allowed himself to admire the palace in the near distance. It was regal and imposing, a monument to the greatness of Japan’s inland empire.

The House of Burning Blades.

Home to the Silver Flame.

*^*^*^*^*

Malachi approached the samurai enclave knowing that he had chores to tend to. Housework was a condition of his residence, and one he accepted with no ill feelings. Fortunately domestic tasks had been the backbone of his childhood, and he still recalled sweeping the polished floors of his mother’s home.

In a way his presence at the samurai school was a retreat into youth: a voluntary immersion into a world where simpler goals could be prized. Here there was no need to chase the abolition of human sin; no need to crush half a country simply to make it whole again. The United States and its self-inflicted wounds were far, far away, and with distance came the unraveling of complexity. If Japan had problems they were not for Malachi to solve. He cared nothing for the country’s social fractures, for the fight between rich and poor. All he sought from those around him was a remarkable education.

So there you are! exclaimed a force of nature when Cole stepped into the kitchen. Twenty five mouths to feed and you think I should do it all by myself!

Phoenix fought hard to suppress a smile.

I’m sorry, Auntie, he muttered sheepishly. It was careless of me to be late.

The American moved deeper into the room, mindful as ever that the domain was not his. It belonged to the gray haired woman who barely stood four feet off the ground -- the plucky and fearless Akiko who was slicing a soy bean cake with a blade big enough to kill an ox. There was no doubt in Cole’s mind that the House of Burning Blades rested on her ancient shoulders. She was the mortar that held the bricks and wood together, and without her the place would fall apart.

Well don’t just stand there dumpling! Food does not cook itself.

I know, replied Malachi seriously. I wish it did.

Take the chicken from the fire, stir my soup, and put the cabbage rolls into bowls.

Phoenix looked to the center of the room and surveyed Auntie’s wood fire basin, ablaze with bright red coals and the occasional tongue of orange fire. Two gigantic pots and a grill straddled the miniature furnace, emitting steam that curled and twisted its way into the air and out through a hole in the roof. The aroma of the meal was tediously familiar, and it occurred to Cole that the only thing he missed from his former life was the food.

One day, Auntie, I’ll teach you how to bake an apple pie.

Akiko stopped butchering her tofu and glanced across at the brown haired foreigner who dared to campaign for a menu change.

How long have you been here again?

Six years, ma’am.

When you have been here twenty I will cook your apple pie.

Malachi laughed in delight, knowing full well that it would be a cold day in hell before Auntie ever experimented with foreign cuisine.

Will you still be alive? he asked.

Of course, replied Akiko with a snort. I will outlive all of you.

Yes, ma’am, said Phoenix with a wistful sigh. You just might.

The American stepped up to the grill and rescued eight skewered chickens from the heat. It always amazed him how many birds were consumed by the school’s inhabitants.

Where they came from only Auntie knew.

*^*^*^*^*

It said something about Malachi’s position in the world that he was allowed to eat alongside his teacher. No other student in Isamu’s academy enjoyed the privilege, and this was attributed to the American’s uniqueness. Cole was a novelty with his brown hair and wide green eyes, and in addition to his looks he brought something to the table no one else could -- a book of sayings from men who ruled in other great lands. Thoughts and ideas galvanized the Black Serpent, and those who offered them up received his special attention.

Cole san, what is your grain of truth for today? asked the master samurai when everyone had claimed their bowls.

Malachi smiled as he took his seat opposite the two oldest warriors in the school. They both looked at him intently -- Isamu with high expectations and Katashi with annoyance. Cole realized he’d never seen Limping Tiger without a look of irritation on his face, and he chalked up the fact to fundamental character. Katashi hated intellectual debate, and in his old age that was all people wanted to give him.

Malachi reached for the small leather bound book that he had placed beside his bowl. A red ribbon marked where he had left off the day before, and after opening the pages his gaze seemed to fall upon a sentence in the very middle of a dense paragraph. He decided to read it aloud, knowing that the words would invite comment.

Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.

The quote produced a grunt from both listeners.

And that is Lincoln san speaking? checked Katashi.

Yes, replied Malachi before losing himself in the rest of the page’s words.

Limping Tiger picked up the chicken leg in his bowl and pulled the meat from the bone as he contemplated the pearl of wisdom.

I disagree, declared the warrior eventually.

Isamu swallowed his mouthful of soup and let out a chuckle.

As always, announced the master. But I think Lincoln san is right.

Bah! exclaimed Katashi with a wave of his right hand. To test a man’s character you show him his death.

Black Serpent nodded briefly.

And you are also right.

The acknowledgment prompted Limping Tiger to drop his chicken bone in disgust.

"Why must you be so agreeable? Can