'No right? What do you mean? Of course they -'
'It's a matter of their mindset. They've spent centuries believing they are inferior to the Senshi. Shigeru-san is trying to turn that around but it will take a long time to do it. Just as the Senshi are conditioned to believe they are superior to the other classes, the Kikori believe the Senshi are their superiors. They might go into battle against them. But they'd do it expecting to lose.'
'That's crazy,' Horace said. But he could see the reason in George's statement.
'You're a soldier, Horace. Would you lead an army into battle if the men expected to be beaten? Even worse, if the men thought they had no right to win?'
'I suppose not.' Horace's shoulders slumped. For a moment, he thought he had seen a possible course of action, but George was right. An army that believed it was destined to lose would be marching to its death.
'There are the Hasanu,' Shukin was saying thoughtfully. 'And Lord Nimatsu is an honourable man. He wouldn't turn his back on his oath of allegiance.'
'The Hasanu are certainly fighters,' Shigeru said. 'But to the far north, with an enormous mountain range separating us from them. It would take weeks, months even, to reach them. And I have no idea how they would respond. They are strange people.'
'If they are people, in fact,' Reito put in.
Shigeru gave him a look of rebuke. 'Don't believe the old superstitions, Reito,' he said. 'The Hasanu are…unusual, shall we say? But I'm convinced they're human.'
'Who are the Hasanu?' Horace whispered to George. 'Are they another clan of warriors?' But George was shaking his head, a puzzled look on his face.
'I've never heard of them. They're not a clan. I'm sure I know all of them.'
Before they could pursue the matter any further, Shukin spoke in an authoritative tone.
'Whether or not we can muster forces for a counterattack against Arisaka, our first course is to make sure the Emperor is safe. We have to head north back into the mountains. We won't ask the Kikori to fight, but they'll be willing to hide us from Arisaka.'
Shigeru was nodding agreement. 'Perhaps not the most gallant course of action,' he said. 'But certainly the wisest. If we can evade Arisaka's men for a month or two, winter will be here and the weather will protect us.'
'There's always the fortress at Ran-Koshi,' Reito suggested and the Emperor and his cousin looked at him quickly.
'Ran-Koshi?' said Shukin. 'I always thought that was a myth.'
Reito shook his head. 'Many people do. But I'm sure it's real. The problem is, how to find it.'
'What is this fortress?' Horace asked.
'Ran-Koshi is a fortress that's spoken of in an old folk tale,' Shigeru told them. 'That's why Shukin doubted its existence. It's said to be high in the mountains, in a hidden valley. Many hundreds of years ago, there was a civil war over the rightful succession to the throne.'
'Not unlike now, in fact,' Shukin said grimly and the Emperor glanced at him.
'Precisely,' he said, then turned back to the two Araluans. 'The eventual winner used Ran-Koshi as his power base. It was said to be an impregnable fortress, with massive walls and a deep moat.'
'Sounds like the sort of place you could use,' Horace said.
Shigeru nodded thoughtfully. 'It would be derelict by now,' he said. 'If it exists at all.'
'If it's there, there is one group of people who will know where it is,' Reito said. 'The Kikori. They've spent generations combing the mountains for groves of trees, then building trails to bring the fallen logs down to the low country. They know every inch of the northern mountains.'
'Then why have they never revealed its location?' Shukin said.
Shigeru inclined his head towards his cousin. 'Why should they?' he replied. 'Over the years, the Kikori have had little reason to love the ruling class of this country. If they knew this secret, I doubt they would have told the Senshi about it. They won't fight the warrior class, but there's no reason why they should do anything to help them.'
'Good point,' Horace said. 'So all we have to do is head north, contact the Kikori, and take shelter in this mythical fortress?'
Shigeru gave him a good-humoured nod. After his first shock at the news of Arisaka's treachery, he had recovered some of his normal spirits.
'Perhaps we should take it one step at a time, Or'ss-san,' he said. 'Our first priority is simply to evade Arisaka, and for that, I agree that we have to head north. But I'm afraid you won't be coming with us.'
Horace opened his mouth to reply, felt George's hand on his arm and stopped.
'We're on a diplomatic mission, Horace,' George said quietly. 'We have no right to interfere in internal matters among the Nihon-Jan.'
That statement brought Horace up short. His first instinct on hearing about Arisaka's rebellion had been to help the Emperor find a way to defeat the treacherous warlord. Now, he realised, he had no right to do any such thing. He sat back, confused. Shigeru saw the conflict on his face and offered Horace a sad little smile.
'George-san is right. This is not your battle. You are observers in our country and, just as I can't ask the Kikori to fight, I can't expect you to risk your lives on my behalf. You should return to your own land.'
'It might be better if Or'ss-san and George-san also avoided Arisaka's men,' Shukin said. 'The Shimonseki may not understand the niceties of diplomatic immunity.'
Shigeru looked at his cousin. Shukin made a good point, he thought. Arisaka's men would have their blood up. They would be arrogant and argumentative, and Horace might well be provoked by them if he encountered them. They would know the young Araluan was a friend of the Emperor and they would know he was a warrior. Better if he avoided contact altogether.
'There is a secondary road to Iwanai a little north of here,' he said. 'It's not as well travelled as the main road. In fact, it's more of a mountain track. But you'd be better to take it, I think. Perhaps you should accompany us that far, then leave us.'
Horace shook his head helplessly. He knew they were right but he hated to desert a friend in danger.
'I don't like it, your excellency,' he said eventually.
'Neither do I, Or'ss-san. But, trust me, it's for the best.'
Nihon-Ja An hour passed without any sign of the remnants of the Emperor's army. Shukin came to a decision.
'We can't wait any longer, cousin. Every minute we delay lets Arisaka get closer to us.'
'I don't like deserting my men. They fought in my name, after all. It's a poor reward for them if I abandon them,' Shigeru replied.
'Poorer still if they see you taken by Arisaka. Reito-san can ride back and lead them to join us. We can arrange a rendezvous. But right now, you must get on the road again.'
'Reito said that Arisaka's men were several days behind him,' the Emperor pointed out, but Shukin was unconvinced.
'His main army, yes. But in his place, I would have sent out fast scouting parties to search for you. They could be upon us any time. After all, the survivors from the Ito garrison are travelling on foot and bringing their wounded with them. They'll be moving a lot slower than a mounted scouting party.'
Reluctantly, Shigeru agreed. The men from the escort began to dismantle the two pavilions and pack them away. Reito and Shukin put their heads together over a map and agreed on a rendezvous point where Reito should lead the survivors.
'Wait for us here,' Shukin told him, pointing to a village marked on the map. 'We'll make contact with you.' He was all too aware of the possibility that Reito and the rest of Shigeru's men might be followed and captured. Best if they couldn't tell Arisaka exactly where the Emperor had gone to ground. Reito met his gaze, understood, and nodded.
'Look for us in a few days,' he said. Then, bowing hastily to Shigeru, he mounted his horse and rode off down the trail to the south.
The others mounted and turned their horses' heads north, starting back along the trail that had brought them down from the summer lodge. After a few kilometres, they came across another trail that bran
ched off to the west, and led down into the valleys.
Shukin, riding in the lead, reined in his horse and waited while Horace caught up with him. He indicated the new trail.
'We'll take this track. It will lead us to the turn-off for Iwanai, where you'll leave us.'
Horace nodded unhappily. 'I hate to leave,' he said. 'I feel as if I'm deserting you.'
Shukin leaned over and grasped the young warrior's forearm. 'I can't imagine anyone I'd rather have by my side, Or'ss-san,' he said. 'But as the Emperor says, this is not your fight.'
'I know that,' Horace replied. 'But I don't have to like it.'
Shukin smiled grimly. 'Look on the bright side. At least the rain has stopped.'
Then he spurred his horse into a canter and rode to resume his position at the head of the little column.
George moved up to ride beside Horace. He shifted in his saddle, standing in the stirrups to ease his aching backside. George was not an accomplished rider and Shukin had been pushing the pace for the last few hours. The attorney had been bounced and jounced continually in the saddle and he was sure his behind would be black and blue. His thigh muscles were aching and cramped. His discomfort was physical, but he knew that Horace was feeling an acute mental anguish that was just as bad and he wanted to take his friend's mind off it.
'Are we nearly there?' he asked, hiding a smile as he voiced the age-old complaint of children on a journey.
Horace couldn't help grinning in return. 'You didn't sign up for this, did you?' he said. 'You probably thought it would all be polite meetings and formal banquets in the palace at Ito.'
'Too true,' George replied, with some feeling. 'It never occurred to me that we'd spend our time galloping up and down mountains on tracks that a self-respecting goat would avoid. If I'd…Look out!' he yelled suddenly and leaned over in the saddle to shove Horace to one side.
Horace heard a savage hiss as something flew past his face, missing him by inches. Then he saw George swaying, a long arrow buried in the upper part of his arm. As he watched, George slid sideways from his saddle and thudded onto the rough, churned-up earth of the track.
Their attackers came out of the trees on either side. The initial volley of arrows had taken down three of the escort, as well as George. Now nine swordsmen charged in at the small party. Horace drew his sword and shrugged his shield round into position, his left arm slipping through the straps and finding the hand grip with the speed of long practice.
It was a well-staged ambush, he thought. The enemy had let the advance party go past, poured in a volley, then charged out of the trees while the small column milled about in confusion.
Three of the attackers converged on the Emperor, who was riding in the middle of the column, a few metres ahead of George and Horace. One grabbed the reins of the Emperor's horse, and as Shigeru drew his sword and struck at him, the man ducked under the horse's neck to avoid the blow. Instantly, the other two were on the Emperor like jackals on a deer. They grabbed his arms and pulled him from the saddle, the sword falling from his hand as he hit the ground. His retainers were caught by surprise, engaged with the other six attackers.
Horace made his decision in a split second. His normal instinct would be to attack on horseback. But he wasn't riding Kicker and he had no idea if this horse had been trained for battle. Besides, the Emperor was on the ground and he'd risk trampling him. He threw a leg over the pommel and dropped to the ground, dashing forward to protect Shigeru.
One of the Senshi had raised his sword in a two-handed grip, aiming a downstroke at the helpless Emperor. Horace's sword was heavier than the katana that the Nihon-Jan warriors used. But it was also longer and Shigeru's attacker didn't factor that in. He thought he had just enough time to kill Shigeru and turn to face the onrushing warrior. He felt a moment of surprise when Horace's horizontal stroke took him in the rib cage, exposed as he raised the sword high, and smashed through his lacquered leather armour. Then he felt nothing.
Horace sensed rather than saw the second man swinging a diagonal overhead cut at him from the left. He pivoted in that direction and his shield seemed to move of its own volition, intercepting the razor-sharp blade with a ringing clang. He felt the super-hard steel of the katana bite into his shield, sticking for a fraction of a second. As it did, he stepped forward, cramping the man for space, and kicked flat-footed into the side of his knee. The man's leg collapsed under him and he stumbled forward with a shrill cry of pain. A quick thrust cut off his cry and he fell at Horace's feet.
In a fight against multiple enemies, it was fatal to face in one direction for too long. Horace spun one hundred and eighty degrees, shield raised, just in time to block a thrust from the third man – the one who had seized the Emperor's reins. Before Horace could retaliate, the man threw up his arms with a choking cry.
He fell to his knees, shock and surprise on his face. Behind him, Shukin was poised with his sword ready for another stroke. But it was unnecessary. The assassin pitched forward, face down in the wet earth.
Horace looked around quickly. The rear guard had closed up and were taking care of two other Senshi attackers. He heard the crashing sound of someone running through the undergrowth on the downhill side of the track. At least one of their attackers had got away.
Shukin sheathed his sword. Then he helped Shigeru to his feet.
'Are you all right, cousin?' he asked anxiously.
Shigeru brushed his concern aside. 'I'm covered in mud and winded, but otherwise unharmed – thanks to Or'ss-san.' He smiled his gratitude at the young Araluan.
Horace shook his head. 'I'm glad to be of service,' he said, a little formally. Horace was always uncomfortable when people thanked him for doing what he considered to be no more than his job. He sheathed his sword. The senior man from the rear guard had approached and was talking to Shukin in rapid Nihon-Jan.
'Are they Arisaka's men?' Horace asked the Emperor.
Shigeru nodded. 'That's the Shimonseki crest,' he said, indicating a stylised owl emblazoned on the attackers' breastplates, over the heart.
Shukin moved back to join them.
'My corporal counted nine of them,' he said. 'Two got away. My men killed four others, Or'ss-san accounted for two and I finished off the seventh.' He cast a contemptuous glance at the sprawled figures on the track, then grudgingly had to admit that the attack had nearly been successful. 'They were well organised. Two parties of three moved to cut off the advance and rear guards, while the remaining three attacked you, cousin. I don't think they reckoned on Or'ss-san's skill with a sword. That was their main mistake. We lost two men and one was wounded in the volley of arrows they fired.'
His words brought a terrible realisation to Horace.
'Oh god!' he cried. He swung round and ran back along the track to where George had fallen from his saddle. In all the action, he had forgotten about the scribe. His heart surged with relief as he saw the thin figure sitting upright beside the muddy track, painfully nursing his right arm, still impaled by a long, white-feathered arrow. His sleeve was soaked with blood and his face was pale – paler than normal – but he was alive. Horace dropped to one knee beside him.
'George!' he said, the relief evident in his voice. 'Are you all right?'
'No! I am not!' George replied with considerable spirit. 'I have a whacking great arrow stuck through my arm and it hurts like the very dickens! How could anybody be all right in those circumstances?'
Impulsively, Horace went to touch the arrow, but George jerked away, then howled as the abrupt movement sent pain coursing through his arm.
'You saved my life, George,' Horace said gently, remembering how his gangly companion had shoved him away from the arrow aimed at him.
George grimaced. 'Well, if I'd known it was going to hurt like this, I wouldn't have! I would have just let them shoot you! Why do you live this way?' he demanded in a high-pitched voice. 'How can you bear it? This sort of thing is very, very painful. I always suspected that warriors are crazy. Now I know.
In future, I…'
Whatever it was he planned to do in the future, Horace never discovered. At that moment, shocked by the pain of the wound and weakened by the loss of blood, George's eyes rolled upwards and he slid over onto his side.
Horace looked round to find Shukin studying the wounded scribe.
'Might be a good thing,' the Senshi leader said. 'We'll get that arrow shaft out while he's unconscious.'
George remained unconscious for a few minutes. But it was enough time for Shukin, and the Emperor's healer, to remove the arrow from the wound. They applied a salve to the entry and exit wounds and bound his arm with clean linen. Shukin observed the result with a satisfied look.
'It should heal cleanly,' he said. 'The salve will take care of any infection – although the arrow was new and seemed clean enough. He will have a sore arm for some weeks, though.'
As if on cue, George's eyes fluttered open. He looked around the concerned faces looking down on him, then frowned.
'My arm hurts,' he said. Horace and the others burst into relieved laughter, which did nothing to assuage George's feelings. He regarded them indignantly.
'It may be funny to all you heroic warrior types,' he said. 'I know you all make a habit of just shrugging off this sort of thing. But it hurts.'
Horace gently helped him to his feet and led him to where his horse was waiting patiently.
'Come on,' he said, helping his companion into the saddle. 'We've a way to go yet.'
He was glad that George, normally a garrulous companion, didn't feel like talking as they rode towards the junction with the track to Iwanai. Horace had a lot to think about and he wanted to prepare his words carefully. He knew George would argue with what he had in mind and he knew that George was trained in logic and the ability to express thoughts clearly and precisely.
Eventually, the time came when the Emperor and Shukin reined in their horses and indicated a steep, narrow track leading downhill to the south-west.
The Emperor of Nihon-Ja ra-10 Page 4
