The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

by John Flanagan

  ‘Get in,’ she said and Alyss splashed hastily through the shallows to the boat. The two wolves who had been shadowing them bounded to the water’s edge, then stopped, uncertainly. Alyss was swinging her legs into the boat as Evanlyn was already stroking backwards away from the beach.

  One of the wolves threw back his head and howled in frustration.

  ‘I guess that means they don’t swim,’ Alyss said.

  ‘It also means we don’t go back ashore,’ Evanlyn replied. But Alyss shook her head.

  ‘They’ll be gone by daylight,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to go back anyway to get our camping gear. At least they won’t bother that – although they’ll probably eat our food supplies.’

  ‘Great,’ said Evanlyn.

  They paddled until they were about a hundred metres offshore, then rested to take stock of their situation. The wind had died down after sunset. It was now a gentle breeze – although that was enough to set them drifting away from the island. Evanlyn remembered something she had seen long ago, when she and Will had been captives aboard Erak’s ship, Wolfwind. She tied a length of light rope to the baler and tossed it over the bow, where it filled with water and streamed behind them.

  ‘It’s called a sea anchor,’ she explained. ‘It’ll stop us drifting too far.’

  Alyss was impressed. ‘And you said you were pig-ignorant when it came to boats.’

  ‘I don’t remember saying that,’ Evanlyn replied with a frown.

  Alyss shrugged. ‘Oh? Well, it must have been me.’

  When dawn came, they paddled back to the beach, having dozed fitfully in turns through the dark hours of the morning. They gathered up their camping gear, spare clothes and blankets from where the wolves had tossed them as they had looked through their belongings for anything edible. There was a sack of rice split open and spilled on the sand and they carefully gathered it up again. There was no sign of the wolves.

  But the girls knew they were still there, still watching.

  Halt and Will made their way carefully along the narrow ledge. It was wise to take care. The rock was wet and glistening, with patches of ice in places. Fifty metres below them was the floor of the narrow, twisting valley that led to Ran-Koshi.

  Mikeru moved ahead of them, unmindful of the sheer drop to his right. He strode casually, sometimes breaking into a trot, occasionally taking a short cut by jumping from one rock outcrop to the next, and all the while looking back and urging them to catch up.

  ‘He’s like a damned mountain goat,’ Halt muttered and Will grinned.

  ‘He grew up in this country.’ Even though he had an excellent head for heights, Will couldn’t match Mikeru’s easy, almost casual approach to moving along this precarious path.

  ‘Just as well he did,’ Halt replied. ‘And just as well he’s got a restless nature.’

  Since his success in finding the secret gully that led down from Ran-Koshi, Mikeru had spent his days exploring the cliffs and mountains around the valley-fortress, searching for new secrets, new hidden paths. The evening before, he had approached Will and Halt as they sat discussing the progress of the Kikoris’ training. He was beaming with pleasure and pride at his new discovery.

  ‘Halto-san. Wirru-san. I have found a lookout place. We can see Arisaka’s men from there.’

  This roused their interest. Since they had beaten the Senshi back after the first attack, they had been unable to gain any further information about Arisaka’s movements. Halt had been on the verge of sending a small party down through the narrow secret entrance to see what the rebel lord was up to. He hadn’t done so to date, because sending a group down carried the risk that they would reveal the existence of this secret way in and out.

  This, however, promised to be an easier way of seeing what Arisaka was up to. But the light was fading and it was too late to inspect Mikeru’s find that day. They agreed to leave it overnight.

  Accordingly, the following morning, as soon as they had breakfasted, the young Kikori was waiting impatiently to lead them. He hurried to the eastern wall of the canyon, gesturing upwards.

  ‘Track is up there. We climb up little bit, little bit.’

  They had told Horace and he had decided to accompany them. But he looked up in alarm at the sheer rock face. He could just make out the ledge some twenty metres above them, now that Mikeru pointed it out.

  ‘Little bit, little bit, my eye,’ he said. ‘That’s a big bit, big bit.’ He began to back away from the cliff but Mikeru took his arm and grinned encouragingly at him.

  ‘Easy climb, Kurokuma. You do it easily.’

  ‘The hell I do,’ Horace said, as he gently disengaged Mikeru’s grip. ‘That’s what we have Rangers for. They climb up sheer rock walls and crawl along narrow, slippery ledges. I’m a trained warrior and I’m too far valuable to risk in such shenanigans.’

  ‘We’re not valuable?’ Will said, feigning insult.

  Horace looked at him. ‘We’ve got two of you. We can always afford to lose one,’ he said firmly.

  Mikeru was still puzzling over Horace’s last remark. He frowned. ‘Kurokuma, these shenanigans…what are they?’

  ‘Shenanigans are what Rangers do. They usually involve doing things that risk breaking your neck or your leg.’

  Mikeru nodded, filing the word away. ‘I will remember this word,’ he said. ‘Shenanigans. It is a good word.’

  ‘If we’ve finished the language lesson for the day,’ Halt said dryly, ‘can we get a move on?’

  Horace made a mock bow and waved a hand in the direction of the cliff face. ‘Please. Be my guest.’

  The ledge hugged the cliff face, and gradually rose higher and higher as they moved along it. Will estimated that they must be close to the mouth of the valley, but any sight of Arisaka’s men was hidden behind a large rock outcrop that blocked the ledge. Mikeru, seeing them hesitate, scampered to it.

  ‘Easy!’ he said. ‘Like this!’

  He flattened himself against the rock, reaching out and around with his right hand, all the while keeping a firm grip with his left. He searched for a few seconds, then obviously found a new handhold on the other side. Without warning, he stepped off the ledge, leaving his left foot hanging in space while his right foot found support somewhere on the reverse side of the outcrop.

  Then he set his left foot in a tiny vertical crack in the rock and swung himself around to the far side, out of sight. His voice came back to them, cheerful as ever.

  ‘Easy! Plenty of room round here! Come now!’

  Halt and Will exchanged glances. Then Will repeated Horace’s bow.

  ‘Age before beauty,’ he said to Halt.

  The older Ranger’s eyebrow rose slightly. ‘Pearl before swine,’ he replied, and stepped towards the outcrop, repeating Mikeru’s actions. After a few seconds groping, he swung out and disappeared round the bluff after the young Kikori. Will moved to the outcrop. He glanced down, then ignored the drop below. He knew that if the others could manage this, he could. He’d been an excellent climber all his life. He reached his right hand around, groping at the sheer rock face on the other side. A hand gently seized his and guided it to a firm handhold in the rock. He stepped off the ledge, hanging by his two hands, stretching his right leg around. Almost immediately, he encountered a horizontal ledge some five centimetres wide that gave his foot firm purchase. He moved his left foot to the vertical crack, then was free to reach with his right hand, then his left, swinging his body round the outcrop as the others had done. He found them waiting for him on a wide section of the ledge they had been following, a roomy platform in the rock. Judging by the drill marks visible in the hard surface, the platform had been constructed to serve as a lookout.

  And there, below him, was the Senshi encampment.

  He frowned. ‘There can’t be more than a hundred and fifty of them.’

  But Halt pointed further to the south. ‘The main body’s back there.’

  Now that Will looked, he could see a much larger camp set am
ong the shelter of the trees, almost two kilometres away. Between that point and the valley mouth, the ground was a high, bare plateau, unsheltered open ground that was swept by the constant wind.

  ‘Not the most comfortable spot,’ Will said, gesturing to the smaller of the two positions.

  Halt nodded. ‘No point in Arisaka keeping all his men – and himself – exposed down there. He’s left a force to plug the mouth of the valley and keep us contained, while the rest of them are sheltered in the trees.’

  Will was looking keenly at the small encampment at the valley mouth. Very few of the men there were moving around. Those he could see were bundled up in heavy clothing and furs. He guessed that most of them were huddled inside the meagre shelter of their tents, dispirited, cold, resentful. After a while, all they would care about would be finding warmth and shelter from the persistent wind. That meant their vigilance would be lowered. After all, nobody really expected Shigeru and his tiny force to move out from behind the protection of the palisade – unless it was to attempt an escape. And a few sentries could keep track of any such attempt. As Halt had said, they were the cork in the bottle neck, placed there to prevent the Emperor slipping away.

  ‘They’re kind of vulnerable, aren’t they?’ Will said.

  Halt glanced at him. ‘To the weather?’

  Will chewed his lip thoughtfully. ‘Yes. But also to us, if we were to attack them.’

  Halt studied the rows of tents below them without speaking. Will was right, he thought. The men in that camp would be preoccupied with the task of keeping warm. Judging by what he’d heard of Arisaka, they probably included the survivors of the attack on the palisade, placed there as a punishment for their failure.

  ‘You’d bring men down through Mikeru’s Pass?’ he asked.

  The young Kikori looked up and grinned at the mention of his name. He liked the fact that the secret path was named after him. He hoped maybe this spot would be called Mikeru’s Lookout.

  ‘Yes,’ Will replied. ‘The gully comes out around the far side of this cliff we’re on. They won’t be watching in that direction. We could bring the men down by night, let them assemble at the bottom, out of sight, then hit that camp before they know we’ve arrived.’

  Halt’s eyes followed the terrain as Will spoke. He nodded. ‘Thirty or forty Senshi could make a big impact,’ he suggested. ‘Particularly with surprise on their side.’

  Many of the wounded Senshi in Shigeru’s party had recovered sufficiently to be ready to fight. They could easily muster a fighting force that size. But Will shook his head in disagreement.

  ‘I was thinking of maybe a hundred Kikori,’ he said.

  There was a long silence. Halt wasn’t surprised. Even though he’d suggested using the Senshi, he had a sense that this was what Will had in mind. The idea had a lot of merit. But Halt felt he should raise the possible flaws, to make sure his former apprentice wasn’t just overeager to try the tactics he’d been teaching the Kikori.

  ‘They’re untried in battle,’ he said. ‘No matter how much you train them, nothing takes the place of actual experience.’

  ‘All the more reason to do it,’ Will told him. ‘It’s a perfect opportunity to give them the experience they need. The enemy will be cold and demoralised, not expecting an attack. And there are only about a hundred and fifty of them. We’re not facing Arisaka’s main force. We’ll hit the enemy hard and fast, then head the Kikori back up the gully while Arisaka’s men are still wondering what’s happened. If the plan works, we’ll give the Kikoris’ self-confidence and esprit de corps an enormous boost.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t work?’ Halt said.

  Will met his gaze levelly. ‘If it doesn’t work now, with all the advantages in our favour, we’re going to be in deep trouble when the spring comes and we’re facing five times as many Senshi. This way we can give Arisaka a bloody nose, reduce the numbers of his army a little, and show the Kikori that they can face up to and defeat Senshi in battle. And that’s possibly the most important part of it all.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Halt said. ‘When do you want to do it?’

  ‘As soon as possible,’ Will said. ‘No point in delaying any longer. A few more days’ training won’t make any difference to the Kikori.’

  Evanlyn glanced over the side of the boat as they glided in towards the shore. The water was clear and pristine and looked to be no more than twenty centimetres deep. But she had learned in the past five days how deceptive this could be. The third day, thinking the water was shallow, she had stepped clear of the boat to find herself floundering wildly in waist-deep water. It was only by an enormous effort that she had avoided falling and immersing herself completely.

  Her clothes had dried that night in front of the blazing fire they built. Since the encounter with the wolves, it had become their standard procedure to keep a fire burning all night and take turns keeping watch. It meant they each got less sleep each night, but at least when they did sleep, they did so soundly, each secure in the knowledge that her companion was keeping watch and making sure that the fire was maintained through the dark hours.

  Whether because of the fire or not, there had been no further disturbances since that second night. Of course, Evanlyn thought, it may have simply been the case that there were no wolves on any of the other islands.

  Now, she reached down with her paddle, satisfying herself that the water was barely knee deep. She swung her legs over the side and stood up quickly, then guided the prow of the kayak towards the shingle beach. They had learned to beach the little boat unoccupied. On the third night, letting the bow grate into the sand and rock of the shore, they had torn a hole in the oilskin covering.

  Alyss had watched Evanlyn sew a patch over the hole with a piece of spare oilcloth, then cover the seam with melted wax to seal it.

  ‘Very neat,’ she had said approvingly. Evanlyn smiled and brandished her needle.

  ‘Needlepoint is one of the skills that are deemed fitting for a princess,’ she replied. ‘I never thought it would come in handy.’

  Alyss’s eyes were on her now as she tested the water depth, then dismounted from the boat. Alyss was developing a reluctant admiration for the princess’s ability to adapt and learn. Alyss had been tough on her while she was learning the techniques of handling a small boat. Some of this was due to the lingering antipathy that Alyss seemed to feel for Evanlyn, but in the main it had been a practical choice.

  Alyss knew, from conversations with Will and Lady Pauline, and from her own observations, that Evanlyn, courageous and resourceful as she was, did have a petulant side to her character. Unavoidable, perhaps, in one raised as a princess, in an environment where there were scores of people ready to leap to and do one’s slightest bidding, and attend to the smallest wants. But on this trip, there could be no servants and no passengers. Alyss had sensed that if she had shown sympathy for Evanlyn’s aching muscles, or laughed off her clumsy attempts at paddling, Evanlyn could be inclined to take advantage of her good nature. Instead, Alyss’s repeated, sardonic thank you for that at each mistake had acted as a goad to Evanlyn, urging her to do better, to try harder, to show her tall, self-satisfied travelling companion that, princess or not, she could do the job she had been set.

  With these thoughts in mind, Alyss nearly left it too late to step out of the boat herself. Knowing this would result in a tart comment, for she knew Evanlyn wanted nothing more than an opportunity to reply in kind, she swung her own legs clear and helped the princess lift the boat as they slid it up the beach, out of the water.

  They set it down and both stretched to ease their cramping back muscles. Alyss took a few paces inland, looking around the little beach, and into the thickly growing trees beyond.

  ‘So this is it,’ she said.

  They had finally reached the far side of the massive lake. This was the province where Lord Nimatsu ruled over the mysterious and fabled Hasanu. There was snow on the ground here but not in the quantities they had seen at
Ran-Koshi. The altitude was lower, and the area was sheltered from the weather systems that blew in from the sea and drove snow and rain clouds onto the mountains behind them.

  Here, in an area shielded by those same mountains, the wind was more gentle, more temperate. And it sighed softly through the needles of the spruce trees that towered above them.

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,’ Evanlyn murmured.

  ‘Doesn’t mean there’s no one here, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’

  A knot of apprehension had formed in Evanlyn’s stomach as she stood on this quiet, seemingly deserted spot. They had quizzed Shigeru and his senior advisers at some length about the Hasanu but, in truth, they had learned little.

  Some held the Hasanu to be remnants of an ancient race of semi-human apes who had survived in this remote territory. Other, more frightening, theories held that the Hasanu were tree or forest spirits and the reclusive Lord Nimatsu was a sorcerer who had bent them to his will.

  Other ‘facts’ they had gleaned seemed to contradict each other. Some said that the Hasanu were shy and nervous of contact with strangers, while others maintained they were fierce and merciless killers. Old legends about them certainly lent credence to this last. Numerous tales were told of their ferocity in battle. It was said that they had never been defeated. These tales, of course, were centuries old and nobody could actually admit to having seen a Hasanu, or to knowing someone who had. Although there were those who claimed to know someone who knew someone else who had seen one.

  At the end of a long and confusing briefing session, Shigeru had dismissed his advisers and sat quietly with the two girls to give them a more balanced opinion on these strange people.

  ‘Much is said about the Hasanu,’ he had told them. ‘And much of it is wild exaggeration. Here is what I know, stripped of rumour, conjecture and hysteria.