The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

by John Flanagan

  ‘Just so long as you don’t bump into Arisaka’s men instead,’ Halt said dryly.

  ‘We don’t know that Arisaka’s men have penetrated this far north-west,’ the guide said.

  Halt shrugged. ‘We don’t know they haven’t, either. Better to assume the worst. That way, you’re not disappointed when it occurs.’ Halt turned to Gundar. ‘I thought you could camp on that island we passed, rather than in here on the mainland.’

  The skirl nodded. ‘My thought too. We could be here for weeks, even months, while the winter passes. We’ll be safer on the island.’

  It had been decided that Gundar and his men were not going to accompany them into the mountains. A captain was always reluctant to leave his ship for even a short time, and they could be at Ran-Koshi for months. Instead, the Skandians would take Atsu back to Iwanai, then return to this point and spend the winter in a camp, beaching their ship and hauling her high above the tide mark to protect her from winter gales. They planned to build huts in the shelter of the trees. Skandians often wintered like this while they were travelling. Gundar had re-provisioned the ship while they were in Iwanai so they had plenty of food on board. Plus they could come to the mainland to hunt and fetch water if there were none on the island. The island was a lucky break. Four hundred metres offshore, it would provide security and early warning of any possible attack.

  ‘Put us ashore in the skiff,’ Halt continued. ‘Then get out to the island. We’ll camp on the beach tonight while Atsu tries to contact the locals.’

  Forty minutes later, the shore party watched as the wolfship’s oars went forward on one side and back on the other, pivoting the neat craft in her own length. Then both banks of oars began to pull together and the ship gathered speed, heading out to sea. On the stern, Gundar waved farewell.

  As Wolfwill rounded the point and disappeared from sight, Will felt strangely alone. But there was no time for introspection. There was work to be done.

  ‘Right,’ said Halt. ‘Let’s get a camp set up. Atsu, do you want to wait till morning? Or will you try to make contact with the locals tonight?’

  Atsu looked at the low sun. There was probably an hour of daylight left.

  ‘It might be better if I go right away,’ he said. ‘It’s highly likely we’ve been seen, so the sooner I can make contact and explain our intentions, the better.’

  Halt nodded agreement and while the others set about erecting their small tents and gathering stones for a fireplace, Atsu slipped into the forest. Will watched him go, then turned back to the task of tightening the guy rope on his tent. Selethen, beside him, was unfamiliar with the Araluan tent design and was puzzling slightly over the arrangement of ropes and canvas. Will quickly moved to help him get them sorted out.

  ‘Thanks,’ said the Wakir. He added, with a faint smile, ‘I usually have a servant to do this for me, you know.’

  ‘Happy to be of assistance,’ Will told him. ‘So long as you break out some of your supply of coffee.’

  ‘Good idea,’ the Arridi replied and began rummaging in his pack. His coffee beans were superior to the ones Will and Halt carried. They had more flavour and were far more aromatic. During the trip, they had all rationed their supplies carefully – coffee seemed to be unknown in Nihon-Ja. But now Will thought it was time to enjoy a good cup.

  Evanlyn and Alyss had found a freshwater stream a little inland from the beach and had taken the water skins and canteens to fill them with fresh, cold water. While they waited for the girls to return, Will and Selethen set about making a fire. Halt, sitting with his back to a log and studying the map, glanced up as they did so. Will hesitated.

  ‘Are we all right to have a fire, Halt?’ he asked.

  The older Ranger thought for a moment. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘As Atsu pointed out, the locals probably know we’re here anyway.’ He glanced towards the trees, where the two girls were visible, filling the canteens.

  ‘Are you expecting trouble?’ Will asked, aware that Halt had been keeping a watchful eye over the girls as they worked.

  Again, Halt hesitated before replying. ‘I’m always edgy when I’m in a country I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I find it’s the best way to be.’

  ‘It’s certainly kept you alive so far,’ Selethen said, with a hint of a smile.

  Halt nodded. ‘Yes. So far so good. Plus, I’ve been thinking…Atsu seems confident that all the Kikori villages will be supporting the Emperor. But there’s no iron-clad guarantee that some of them haven’t gone over to Arisaka.’

  ‘Do you think that’s likely?’ Will asked and Halt turned his gaze on his young protégé.

  ‘No. But it is possible. We’re going a lot on Atsu’s word for things and we have no way of knowing how good his judgement is.’

  Evanlyn and Alyss returned as they were discussing this. The girls were burdened with filled canteens and two large waterskins and they carried the load between them. Evanlyn glanced around the camp site approvingly.

  ‘What a cheery little home away from home,’ she said brightly.

  Alyss, who had noticed the sombre expressions on the faces of Selethen and the two Rangers, added, ‘And what serious faces you’re all wearing. Is something wrong, Halt?’

  Halt smiled at her. ‘Now that we have water for the coffee, no,’ he replied. ‘Everything is just as it should be.’

  They made coffee, then Will set about preparing an evening meal. The market in Iwanai had supplied them with several chickens and he set about jointing them and preparing the meat in a marinade of oil, honey and the dark salty sauce that was a staple in Nihon-Ja.

  Atsu had taught him how to prepare rice, which he had never cooked before, and he set a covered pot steaming in the coals of the fire while he prepared a green salad, using small onions and green leaves that resembled spinach. As ever, he had his cooking kit with him, with his own personal staples that went to create a light, tangy salad dressing.

  ‘Nice to know a man who cooks,’ said Alyss, sitting comfortably by the fire, her back against a log and her knees drawn up.

  ‘I’ve heard you can whip up a pretty good meal too, Halt,’ Evanlyn said, gently teasing him.

  Halt took another sip of the coffee they had prepared. His eyes smiled at her over the rim of his mug.

  ‘It’s part of a Ranger’s training,’ he said. ‘There’s no law that says we have to exist on hard tack and cold water when we’re in the field. A good meal does a lot to restore the spirits. Some years back, Crowley had Master Chubb prepare a set of recipes and instructions for us. All Ranger apprentices do a three-month course in their third year.’

  ‘So what are you planning to whip up for us?’ Selethen asked. He was smiling but he thought such a course was an excellent idea. As Halt said, good, simple food could go a long way towards making a camp more comfortable.

  Halt drained the last of his coffee. He looked at the dregs in his mug wistfully. For a moment he was tempted to make a fresh pot. But they couldn’t afford to squander their limited supplies.

  ‘I won’t be cooking,’ he replied. ‘Will enjoys doing it and I wouldn’t want to spoil his fun.’

  Will looked up from where he was threading the marinated chicken meat onto thin skewers of green wood.

  ‘Besides, Halt has been known to burn water when he boiled it,’ he said and they all laughed. He was about to add to the tale of Halt’s failed cooking attempts when he stopped, his eyes fixed on the shadows at the edge of the trees fringing the beach. He laid down the skewer he’d just prepared and rose to his feet, his hand going to the hilt of his saxe knife.

  ‘We’ve got company.’

  There were figures emerging from the trees. Roughly dressed in fur and sheepskin and all of them carrying weapons – spears and axes, mainly.

  The others rose to their feet as well. Halt had his long-bow in his hand and he quickly retrieved his quiver from where it lay on the ground beside him, slinging it over his shoulder. In a continuation of the same fluid movement, he took an
arrow from the quiver and laid it on the string. Selethen laid a cautioning hand on his forearm.

  ‘There are too many of them, Halt. This might be a time for talking.’

  Selethen was right, the Ranger saw. There were at least twenty men coming towards them.

  ‘Where the hell is Atsu when we need him?’ Will said bitterly. He was scanning the trees for some sign of their guide, but with no success. His own bow was close to hand but Selethen was right. There were too many armed men to make resistance worthwhile.

  The newcomers formed a half circle around the little group by the camp fire. Their eyes were hard and suspicious. Halt laid down his bow and spread his hands in a gesture of peace. Following his lead, Selethen took his hand away from the hilt of his curved sabre.

  One of the men spoke. But Halt couldn’t recognise the words.

  ‘Did you get that, Alyss?’ he asked. The blonde girl glanced quickly at him, not totally sure of herself.

  ‘It’s Nihon-Jan,’ she said. ‘But it’s a pretty strong regional accent. Makes it hard to pick up. I think he’s asking who we are.’

  ‘Logical question,’ Will said.

  The speaker looked at him and spat out a few words. The tone was obvious, even if the meaning wasn’t. He was angry.

  ‘Best if Alyss does the talking, Will,’ Halt cautioned in a low voice. The Nihon-Jan speaker swung his gaze back to him but as Halt was obviously the leader of this group, he didn’t seem to be annoyed that he was talking.

  ‘Ask if he’s seen Atsu,’ he said and Alyss spoke, choosing her words. The others heard the word ‘Atsu’ among them. The Nihon-Jan replied dismissively. Obviously he had no idea who Atsu might be. He repeated his original question, more pointedly this time.

  ‘He’s still asking who we are,’ Alyss said. There was no need to translate the negative reply to her question about Atsu.

  ‘Tell him we’re travellers,’ Halt said carefully. ‘Our ship was damaged and the crew left us here.’

  Alyss gathered her thoughts to frame the necessary sentences. The Nihon-Jan spokesman greeted her words with a grunt. Then he fired another question.

  ‘He wants to know where we’re going,’ Alyss said. She looked at Halt. ‘Should I say anything about Shi–’ She stopped herself saying the Emperor’s name, realising that the Nihon-Jan would probably recognise it. Instead, she changed her question at the last moment. ‘About…the Emperor?’

  ‘No,’ Halt said quickly. ‘We don’t know whose side these people are on. Just tell him we’re looking for the Kikori.’

  It was a tricky situation. The odds were good that these men were opposed to Arisaka. But it was no certainty. If Alyss told them they were looking for Shigeru, they could find themselves made prisoners by the usurper.

  Alyss began to translate the statement. But the man had heard the word ‘Kikori’. He pounded his own chest repeatedly and shouted at them. The word ‘Kikori’ was repeated several times.

  ‘I assume you understood that,’ Alyss said. ‘These are Kikori.’

  ‘The question is, whose side are they on?’ Evanlyn asked. But Alyss had no answer for that.

  Then the man turned to his followers and made a swift gesture. The Kikori moved in on the camp site, surrounding the five foreigners and making imperious gestures. The meaning was obvious. They were to come along. Will noticed that the Kikori made no attempt to relieve them of their weapons, and they gestured for the Araluans and Selethen to pick up their rucksacks and other gear. Will made a tentative move towards one of the tents but the Kikori closest to him made a negative gesture and shouted at him. He seemed to repeat the same word over again: Dammé! Dammé!

  Will shrugged.

  ‘I guess the tent stays,’ he said.

  Horace was studying the collapsed western side of the palisade with the foreman of the work gang assigned to repair it. This section of the work had lagged behind the rest of the repairs. The greater part of the palisade was in good condition now, the walkways had been reinforced and in some places replaced entirely, and the wall timbers refurbished where necessary with new, strong logs.

  But the collapsed section had problems beyond the simple ravages of time.

  The foreman pointed to a deep channel cut in the ground beneath the ruined palisade.

  ‘This area becomes a water course when the snow melts, Kurokuma,’ he said. ‘The runoff water has gradually undermined the foundations of the wall at this point and washed them away. We’ll have to set new foundations.’

  Horace scratched his chin. ‘And hope it doesn’t rain. No point in repairing it if it’s all going to be swept away again,’ he said thoughtfully. But the foreman shook his head.

  ‘It’s too cold for rain. It’ll snow. But there’ll be no water running through here until spring, when the snows melt. Even then, it would take a few seasons for enough damage to be done. This didn’t happen in one or two years.’

  Horace studied the man for a moment. He looked confident and he certainly seemed to know his craft.

  ‘Very well. Let’s get on with it. I won’t be happy until I know the entire palisade is up to strength.’

  ‘We should be able to fix it in a few days. Now the other repairs are almost finished, I can assign extra work gangs to this part.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Horace. He gestured for the man to go ahead and turned away, heading back up the slope to the small settlement of cabins that had already been created by the hard-working Kikori.

  A small group of the younger men had been excused from labouring work and the commander of Shigeru’s personal guard had begun their instruction in the art of Senshi sword technique. He was demonstrating the basic movements to them now, calling a tempo for each cut, block or thrust. Horace stopped to watch, fascinated by the different style. It seemed far more ornate and ritualistic than the drills he was used to. More – he searched for a word and then found it – flamboyant, with its spins and sweeps. But beneath the foreign technique he could discern a similarity of purpose.

  Now Moka, the guard commander, ceased his demonstration and called for the Kikori to repeat the sequence. They were armed with swords taken from the raiding party wiped out at Riverside Village.

  Moka watched, stony faced, as the young Kikori tried to emulate his movements. They were sadly unco-ordinated and clumsy in their execution. Reito was standing nearby, watching as well. He saw Horace and moved to join him.

  ‘They’re not too good, are they?’ Horace said.

  Reito shrugged. ‘Senshi begin learning this when they’re ten years old,’ he said. ‘It’s asking a lot for timber workers to learn it in a few weeks.’

  ‘I wonder if they’ll learn in a few months,’ Horace said gloomily. ‘They’ll be facing warriors who have been training since they were ten.’

  Reito nodded. He thought the same thing. ‘But what’s the alternative?’

  Horace shook his head. ‘I wish I knew.’ Even if the palisade and the massive cliffs either side kept them safe for the winter, he found he was dreading the confrontation with Arisaka’s Senshi army in the spring.

  ‘Sometimes I think we’re just postponing the inevitable,’ he said. Before Reito could reply, they heard Horace’s name being shouted. They turned and looked down the valley, to where they could see the excited figure of Mikeru and two of his young companions. Several of the Kikori stopped their sword drill to turn and look as well. As they did, their instructor shouted angrily at them to get back to work. Sheepishly, they resumed their practice.

  ‘Let’s see what Mikeru wants,’ Horace said.

  ‘He looks excited,’ Reito observed. ‘Maybe it’s good news.’

  ‘That’d make a change,’ Horace said as they walked down the sloping valley floor to meet the young man. Mikeru saw them coming and stopped running. He paused, hunched over with his hands on his knees, while he got his breath back.

  ‘We’ve found it, Kurokuma,’ he said, still slightly breathless. For a moment, Horace wasn’t sure what he was tal
king about. His head was still filled with thoughts of the repairs to the palisade and the seemingly hopeless task of turning timber workers into skilled swordsmen in the space of a few months. Then he remembered the task he had set for Mikeru a few days prior.

  ‘The secret exit?’ he said. The boy nodded, beaming triumphantly at him.

  ‘You were right, Kurokuma! It was there all the time! It’s narrow and it’s difficult and it twists and turns. But it’s there!’

  ‘Let’s take a look at it,’ Horace said and Mikeru nodded eagerly. He bounded away at a half-run, then stopped after a few metres, looking back to see if Horace and Reito were following. He reminded Horace of an eager puppy, waiting restlessly for its master to catch up.

  ‘Slow down, Mikeru,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s been there hundreds of years. It’s not going anywhere now.’

  As the boy had said, the well-hidden path was narrow and difficult. It was a steep gully that ran down through the mountain, carving its way through the rock. In some places, Horace thought, it appeared to have been dug out by hand. Seemingly, the original occupants of Ran-Koshi had found a series of narrow gullies running down the mountain and connected them to form an almost indiscernible path leading down through the rock walls.

  They slithered and slid down one steep patch, sending a shower of small pebbles cascading before them, rattling off the rock walls either side.

  ‘Not too easy to come up this way,’ Reito remarked.

  Horace glanced at him. ‘That’s how you’d want it. Most people would look at this and not recognise it as a back way into the fortress. And even if an attacker knew about it, I’ve seen half a dozen spots where ten men could hold off an army.’

  ‘Plenty of places to build deadfalls and traps as well,’ Reito said. ‘You could only come up here in single file.’

  ‘Same going down,’ Horace said casually. ‘You’d need a lot of time if you wanted to get a force down here.’

  ‘Down? Why would you want to go down? I mean, it’s as well to know this route is here. We’ll certainly need to fortify it and set up defensive positions to stop Arisaka using it and catching us by surprise. But why would you want to take a force down?’