The Battle for the Golden Egg Read online

  About the Book

  Get ready for the greatest battle of all time!

  In the Edo Period of Japan, two teams fight for supremacy — the serious samurai and the scheming ninja. To determine who is the best, a deadly contest is held. The prize is the Golden Egg, the most magnificent treasure in all of Japan. But when the ninja cheat, the samurai will stop at nothing to get revenge.

  Tighten your topknot and sharpen your sword — the Samurai vs Ninja battle is about to begin!

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Glossary

  The Dress Code of Samurai

  The Laws of Bushidō

  Japanese numbers (1 - 10)

  The Way of the Thirsty Goldfish

  The Way of the Ugly Pig

  Books by Nick Falk and Tony Flowers

  Copyright Notice

  Loved the book?

  For Samurai Carmen and the two little ninjas. I love you more than there are fleas on Charlie.

  – Nick Falk

  For my ninja family: Ceri, Josh and Tallis. Thanks for putting up with me and all of my drawing mess.

  – Tony Flowers

  In the deepest depths of Japan, high in the hills of Hokkaido, were two mighty mountains.

  The Mountain of the Tiger’s Claw was steep and stony, covered in rocky ridges and crumbling cliffs.

  The Mountain of the Dragon’s Tooth was tall and twisty, filled with tangled trees and craggy caves.

  In the Edo Period, when the shōgun ruled Japan, these were the mountains of Bushidō, home of the ninja and the samurai.

  Tucked on the tip of the Tiger’s Claw was a castle. The castle of Kemushi (the hairy caterpillar), home of the samurai.

  The samurai were very serious.

  Their kamishimo were smooth and straight. Their topknots were tied tight.

  They never smiled, they never joked, and they never wiped their noses on their sleeves.

  The samurai practised the ancient art of Nodo no Kingyo – the Way of the Thirsty Goldfish.

  Perched on the peak of the Dragon’s Tooth was another castle. The castle of Baka Tori (the idiot chicken), home of the ninja.

  The ninja were very silly.

  Their shinobi shōzoku were ripped and wrinkled. Their obi were looped and loose.

  They always giggled, they always played tricks, and they ALWAYS wiped their noses on their sleeves.

  The ninja practised the ancient art of Mink-u-i Buta – the Way of the Ugly Pig.

  Kingyo-Sama, esteemed Master Goldfish, was the leader of the samurai. He was tall and thin. His fingers were long and bony. His nose was pointier than a pickled parsnip.

  Buta-Sama, foolish Master Pig, was the leader of the ninja. He was small and sneaky. His fingers were short and stubby. His nose was squishier than a squelchy squash.

  Kingyo-Sama and Buta-Sama were brothers. They had been fighting each other their entire lives.

  They fought in their cots.

  They fought in their classroom.

  They fought in their cousin’s kitchen.

  They were not always polite to each other when they met.

  It was midnight. A cricket chirruped.

  He leapt over a rock,

  ‘Buta-Sama!’ called the ninja, holding up a scroll. ‘The samurai have sent us a challenge!’

  Buta-Sama removed his finger from his nostril. He was having dinner – two boiled brains, a bowl of rice and a sprinkling of snot.

  ‘Show it to me!’ he barked.

  The messenger shimmied up the legs of Buta-Sama’s stool. Buta-Sama sat on a very tall stool. So tall it wobbled when he chewed.

  Buta-Sama tore open the scroll. ‘I knew it,’ he growled. ‘The samurai have challenged us to trial by Kenjutsu.’

  The other ninja gasped.

  ‘K-K-Kenjutsu,’ stammered one. ‘But that is the way of the sword. We cannot win!’

  ‘Silence!’ spat Buta-Sama, cramming rice into his mouth. He munched and crunched, thinking as he chewed. He knew the ninja was right. No-one could defeat the samurai at swordsmanship.

  There was nothing for it. He was going to have to cheat.

  Buta-Sama swallowed, belched and tossed his bowl behind his head. Then he called:

  It was the Festival of the Full Moon. A ghostly light shone through the windows of Castle Kemushi. The contest was about to begin.

  The samurai gathered in the great hall. They were dressed in ō-yoroi – full-battle armour. Their helmets clinked and clanked as they walked.

  On the other side of the hall sat the ninja, hands tucked under their legs. Some of them hid shurikens.

  Others hid bags of lollies.

  A few had simply forgotten to go to the loo.

  In the centre of the room sat wise old Sensei Squirrel.

  Sensei Squirrel was the grandmaster of Bushidō. He was older than a tortoise and wiser than an owl. He would decide the winner of the contest.

  ‘Warriors of Japan,’ croaked Sensei Squirrel, ‘we are gathered here tonight to decide, once and for all, who is greater. Samurai or ninja!’

  The samurai murmured and rattled their swords. The ninja tossed lollies at them.

  ‘Behold!’ cried Sensei Squirrel. He pointed to the end of the room.

  There, bathed in moonlight, sat the Golden Egg. The greatest prize in all of Japan.

  ‘Whoever claims the Golden Egg will be named the victor!’ said Sensei Squirrel.

  The Golden Egg sparkled and glimmered. The ninja stared at it greedily. The samurai pretended not to. But all of them silently agreed. Their side had to win.

  wheezed Sensei Squirrel.

  Kingyo-Sama stood up. He grinned, showing off his twisty teeth. ‘Mighty Fish will be our champion,’ he declared.

  BOOM!

  A door slammed open at the far end of the hall. In strode a samurai the size of a whale.

  The ninja gasped. The ninja gaped.

  Mighty Fish was a monster. No-one could defeat him. They were doomed!

  ‘Ninja!’ shrieked Sensei Squirrel. ‘Who will stand against this fearsome warrior?’

  Buta-Sama stood up, yawned and farted. ‘Little Pig will be our champion,’ he declared.

  A teensy tiny ninja skipped into the room. Her nose was not much higher than her knees.

  The samurai whooped and jeered.

  But Little Pig grinned a secret grin. She knew something the samurai did not.

  squawked Sensei Squirrel.

  Mighty Fish lumbered into the battle ring. The floor groaned as he walked.

  Little Pig stood opposite him. She only reached up to his shins.

  ‘This will be easy,’ sneered Kingyo-Sama. ‘Mighty Fish will crush her like a puny prawn.’

  ‘Draw swords!’ screeched Sensei Squirrel.

  Mighty Fish drew a sword the size of a tree trunk.

  Little Pig plucked a chopstick from her sleeve.

  The samurai cackled and crowed.

  ‘Let battle commence!’ shouted Sensei Squirrel.

  With a roar that shook the mountain, Mighty Fish charged across the hall.

  Little Pig didn’t blink. She didn’t move an inch.

  Mighty Fish got closer. And closer. He raised his mighty sword. And just as he was about to slice her into sushi … he froze.

  His eyelid flickered.

  His face went pale.

  His mouth opene
d in a great big ‘O’.

  And then Mighty Fish began to scream.

  It was a scream of terrible pain. He hopped from foot to foot, tugging at his clothing.

  Little Pig smiled a secret smile. The plan was working. Mighty Fish always rested before battle. So she’d snuck into his room and spread hot wasabi in his undies.

  Kingyo-Sama leapt to his feet. ‘What are you doing, you monkey’s armpit?’ he shrieked. ‘Squash her. Squish her. Mash her into mush!’

  But Mighty Fish did not. He leapt and jiggled. He howled and wailed. He tore his ō-yoroi in two.

  ‘My bottom!’ he squealed. ‘So hot! So very, very hot!’

  Kingyo-Sama shook his fists. He stamped and stomped. He roared until his face went red. But nothing could be done.

  Little Pig stepped forward. She drew her chopstick. She poked the jiggling giant on his great big, burny bum.

  Mighy Fish howled. He jumped.

  He clutched his raw behind. And then he raced to the window and leapt out into the night. Bare cheeks gleaming in the moonlight, he plunged into the icy depths of Lake Goowong.

  Far …

  far …

  far …

  below.

  Little Pig skipped across the hall.

  ‘No!’ shrieked Kingyo-Sama.

  Little Pig lifted the Golden Egg.

  The ninja whooped and cheered.

  ‘Ninjas win!’ announced Sensei Squirrel.

  His decision was final. The samurai had lost.

  the Golden Egg held high above their heads.

  The samurai wept and ground their teeth. They lay on their backs and kicked their legs in the air.

  Until something was found. A strip of silken undies. With a telltale streak of green.

  Kingyo-Sama gave the underpants a sniff. His eyes bulged. ‘Cheats! We’ve been doodled. We’ve been diddled! Vengeance will be ours!’

  And so started the Great Wasabi War.

  Lightning crackled in the sky as the samurai climbed up the Dragon’s Tooth. The wind whistled through their ō-yoroi. The samurai were marching to war.

  Kingyo-Sama was at the head of the column. ‘We will show those filthy cheats,’ he snarled, shaking his fist. ‘The Golden Egg belongs to us!’

  High on the battlements of Castle Baka Tori, Buta-Sama watched as the samurai stomped closer.

  Buta-Sama was eating noodles with fried locusts. His favourite meal. He chewed and chomped as he thought.

  He needed to come up with a plan. A way to stop the samurai from scaling the walls.

  A ninja brought Buta-Sama his pudding. Insect eyeballs with whipped cream. Yum. Buta-Sama slurped them down greedily, wiping his mouth on a servant’s sleeve. Then he paused, looked down and stared at his bowl.

  He had an idea. A wonderfully silly idea.

  ‘Prepare the hot custard,’ Buta-Sama declared.

  By mid-morning, Castle Baka Tori was surrounded. Samurai ringed the walls, banging their swords on their armour.

  ‘Give up the Golden Egg!’ shouted Kingyo-Sama. ‘Or we will tear down your castle!’

  ‘Just you try it!’ replied Buta-Sama. ‘We’re not scared of smelly samurai!’

  ‘An insult!’ shrieked Kingyo-Sama. ‘You are a disgrace to the laws of Bushidō!’

  ‘And you are the buttocks of a bald baboon!’ boomed Buta-Sama, blowing a raspberry. ‘The Golden Egg is ours!’

  And so the battle began.

  Arrows flew through the air, shurikens were spun. Again and again the samurai charged the walls, but the ninja forced them back.

  ‘We’re not letting you in,’ hooted Buta-Sama. ‘You’re too ugly. You’ll scare off all the mice!’

  But Kingyo-Sama had a plan. A cunning, clever plan. He knew what his brother hated the most. He commanded:

  Buta-Sama froze. His face went white. Not seafood! Anything but seafood! It was too slimy. Too smelly. Too slippery. He’d hated it ever since he was small.

  ‘NO!’ he shrieked.

  But it was too late.

  Great barrels of sticky seafood exploded over the castle walls. Ninja screamed as poisonous pufferfish slithered down their shinobi shōzokus.

  ‘Quickly,’ ordered Kingyo-Sama, ‘scale the walls!’

  Grappling hooks were thrown over the battlements. The samurai started to climb.

  ‘The custard,’ screamed Buta-Sama, ‘fetch the custard!’

  The ninja hurried back to the walls, heaving heavy buckets. Straining and sweating, they tipped the steaming custard over the walls.

  Buta-Sama waited for the screams. But the screams didn’t come. He peered over the edge.

  Umbrellas! The samurai were climbing with umbrellas! Kingyo-Sama had thought of everything.

  bawled Buta-Sama.

  The ninja scurried for safety. They raced up the turret of the tallest tower. They locked themselves behind the door. And just in time, too.

  Roaring in triumph, the samurai leapt over the castle walls.

  ‘We are defeated!’ Buta-Sama blubbered. ‘There’s no escape!’

  BOOM!

  The samurai hammered on the door.

  ‘Surrender!’ screamed Kingyo-Sama. ‘Hand over the Golden Egg!’

  ‘NEVER!’ bleated Buta-Sama. ‘We will die before we surrender to stinky samurai. We will boil ourselves in custard first!’

  Giant pots were fetched. Fires were lit. The ninja prepared to stew themselves alive.

  But Little Pig had an idea.

  ‘Buta-Sama,’ she said, slinking up to him, ‘there may be another way.’

  Buta-Sama had already removed his socks. He was halfway into a pot. ‘What, Little Pig? Tell me! What is this other way?’

  Little Pig leaned closer. She whispered in his ear.

  Buta-Sama paused. He stepped out of the pot. He put his socks back on.

  ‘That’s the silliest idea I’ve ever heard,’ he said, grinning.

  CRASH!

  The samurai smashed down the door and barged inside.

  No-one noticed Little Pig sneaking out of the window. She was as silent as a ghost.

  Little Pig slid down the castle walls, raced down the rocks and disappeared into the darkness of the Dragon’s Tooth.

  Now came the dangerous part. The wild, empty places where scary monsters roamed. Man-munching oni, ghostly tengu, frightful baku …

  But Little Pig was not scared. She raced through the Tunnel of Terror, leapt over the Hedgerow of Horror.

  Until at last she came to the place all ninjas feared the most – the Cavern of Certain Death.

  Little Pig sneaked closer. She could hear the breathing of the beast within. Hear the gnashing of its fangs. But this was the only place she could find what she needed.

  She took the paintbrush out of her pocket. The moment of truth had come.

  Only two kinds of ninja would enter this place. The very brave or the very foolish.

  Luckily, Little Pig was both.

  ‘I will ask you once more – WHERE IS THE GOLDEN EGG?’ Kingyo-Sama prowled around the room, his eyeballs bulging like grapes.

  The ninja were dangling over pots of hot custard. The samurai were holding them by their toes.

  Buta-Sama looked confused. ‘What Golden Egg?’ he replied.

  ‘What do you mean “What Golden Egg?”,’ snapped Kingyo-Sama. ‘The Golden Egg. The shiny one! The big one! The one you won by cheating!’

  Buta-Sama shrugged.

  The ninjas looked at each other.

  ‘Enough!’ screeched Kingyo-Sama. ‘Give me the egg or we will tickle you again!’

  The samurai readied their feathers. The ninja squealed and wiggled their toes. No-one tickles like a samurai.

  ‘WAIT!’ cried a voice from above.

  Everyone looked up.

  There, standing on the topmost window, was Little Pig. She was holding the Golden Egg.

  ‘Bring it to me,’ ordered Kingyo-Sama.

  Little Pig somersaulted to the ground. She handed the egg to K
ingyo-Sama.

  Kingyo-Sama peered at it. ‘It looks smaller than I remember,’ he muttered.

  ‘It shrunk in the wash,’ answered Little Pig.

  A ninja at the back giggled. Buta-Sama flicked custard at him.

  Kingyo-Sama inspected the egg. The samurai leaned closer. The ninja held their breath. Even the wind kept quiet.

  Finally Kingyo-Sama nodded. He was satisfied.

  he barked.

  The samurai dropped the ninja beside their pots. CLONK went their heads on the ground.

  Kingyo-Sama sheathed his silver tickling feather. He stood up tall. ‘Let this be a lesson to you, silly ninja,’ he crowed triumphantly. ‘We samurai are better than you … and we ALWAYS will be.’

  And with that, he turned on his heel and marched his men back down the mountain.

  ‘PHEW!’ said the ninja, brushing dust from their shinobi shōzoku. They grinned at each other and dished up the custard. One bowl each. Plus an extra one for luck.

  Buta-Sama removed the real Golden Egg from his underpants. The samurai never thought to check down there. It was a very smelly place.

  He wandered to the castle walls, Little Pig by his side. They watched the samurai march back down the Dragon’s Tooth. They watched them march back up the Tiger’s Claw. They watched them carry the egg into Castle Kemushi.