‘Bit hard on the pig,’ Evanlyn said quietly.
‘You can change places with it any time you like,’ Alyss told her.
‘What do you think it is – the Terror, I mean?’
‘Some large predator, as Nimatsu suggested. A bear, perhaps. There are bears in this area. And he did say there’s evidence that there were snow tigers here many years ago. Maybe it’s one of them.’
‘It’s never been seen or heard. That doesn’t sound like any bear I’ve ever known,’ Evanlyn remarked.
Alyss looked at her sidelong. ‘Known many bears?’
Evanlyn had to grin.
‘Anyway, one thing I’m sure of,’ Alyss continued, ‘is that it’s not a demon from another world. Now be quiet.’
She gestured for Evanlyn to get some rest while she stood guard. Evanlyn lay down on the uneven, knobbly branches and squirmed around to find the most comfortable spot. She closed her eyes but it took a while for sleep to claim her. Her nerves were tensed to a fine pitch as she listened to the soughing of the light breeze through the trees, the soft flutter of a night-flying bird’s wing and the dozen or so unidentifiable sounds of nocturnal animals or insects that drifted among the trees.
She seemed to have been dozing for only a few minutes when Alyss’s hand on her arm woke her.
‘Anything stirring?’ she whispered.
Alyss shook her head and replied in the same lowered tone. ‘Nothing. The pig was awake about twenty minutes ago but he went back to sleep.’
They both peered down through the branches, across the clearing to where the pig was tethered. The little animal lay sleeping beside the tree.
‘Seems peaceful enough now,’ Evanlyn said. ‘Maybe he was having a pigmare.’ She shuffled towards the edge of the platform, picking up the coiled rope. Alyss caught her by the arm. Even though she still spoke in a whisper, Evanlyn could hear the urgency in her tone.
‘What d’you think you’re up to?’
Evanlyn blushed, although in the dim light Alyss was unaware of the fact.
‘Call of nature,’ she said. ‘I drank too much from my water bottle when we ate. The pickles made me thirsty.’ She grinned sheepishly.
Firmly, Alyss took the coiled rope from her grasp and placed it away from the edge of the platform.
‘Put up with it,’ she said. ‘Neither of us is going down that rope before daylight.’
‘Alyss, be reasonable. If the Terror was anywhere in the area, that pig would be squealing and snuffling in terror. I’m sure it’s perfectly safe. We haven’t heard anything in hours.’
‘Neither did the seventeen Hasanu that this creature killed. Three of them were taken from the middle of a camp where others were sleeping, remember? Evanlyn, the only place that’s safe is this platform. And I’m not even totally sure about that.’
Evanlyn hesitated. Nimatsu had told them some hair-raising stories about the Terror, that was true. As Alyss pointed out, some of its victims had been taken while surrounded by dozens of sleeping comrades – none of whom ever heard a sound.
‘Well…all right,’ she said, feigning a reluctance she no longer felt. The idea that the Terror might be somewhere close to them, creeping towards the tree where they perched, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. But she wasn’t about to admit that to Alyss. ‘You go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.’
Alyss eyed her carefully. ‘Don’t go sneaking off once I’m asleep,’ she warned.
Evanlyn shook her head. ‘I won’t.’
Alyss lay down, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. She seemed to fall asleep much sooner than Evanlyn had managed. Within a few minutes her breathing was deep and regular, punctuated by occasional soft snorts of complaint as she shifted to ease the discomfort of a badly trimmed knot on the branches below her.
Evanlyn sat, bored and cramped, as the moon arced up and over them, eventually descending and leaving the forest black and silent once more. The bird and animal noises had died away. There was only the wind now. Once, just before dawn, it seemed to gust more strongly than before and Evanlyn sat up a little straighter, peering around nervously. But then she realised it had only been a stray gust and she sank back into her bleary-eyed vigil. She yawned mightily. Her eyelids drooped and she jerked upright, realising that her head had dropped to one side and, for a few seconds, she had been asleep. She shook her head to clear it, breathing deeply, then surveyed the dimly lit ground beneath her. The dark form of the pig was still visible in the snow. There was nothing else to be seen.
Shuffling to the edge of the platform, she peered straight down. But she could see nothing there, either.
She yawned again. There was a thin layer of snow on the branches around her. She scooped some up and rubbed the freezing wetness across her face and eyes. For a few minutes, she was refreshed and alert. Then her eyelids and head sagged again. She forced them open, yawned again and wished she hadn’t drunk all that water the night before.
She had never in her life been so grateful to see the dawn. The first grey light stole through the trees and she realised that she could make out details now, instead of just seeing vague outlines. Then she began to make out a red glow from the east, faintly visible through the trunks and upper branches.
Then, without her noticing the exact moment when it happened, a steel grey daylight stole over the forest and the clearing above which they sat. Funny, she thought, how daylight made things seem less threatening.
Alyss stirred, then rolled over and sat up, rubbing her eyes.
‘Anything happen?’ she asked, although she knew that if it had, Evanlyn would have woken her.
‘Nothing. We seemed to have picked the most boring stretch of forest possible. There was nothing but the insects and the birds and even they became bored after a while and went to sleep. I think we’re going to have to –’
Evanlyn stopped. Alyss’s hand was gripping her forearm tightly – so tightly that it was hurting.
‘Look,’ the Courier said. ‘Look at the pig.’
Evanlyn followed her gaze and felt her blood freeze. The snow around the little animal was stained red. Alyss grabbed the climbing rope and moved to the edge of the platform, preparing to let it drop to the forest floor below them. But she stopped, then hurriedly moved away from the edge.
‘Look down there,’ she said in a barely audible voice. ‘Don’t stand up!’ she cautioned. ‘You might fall!’
On hands and knees, Evanlyn moved to the edge of the platform and looked down through the lower branches to the ground below. The snow around the base of their tree was patterned with multiple tracks, where a large animal had circled the trunk repeatedly. Off to one side was an indentation in the snow, where that same animal had lain, waiting for them, watching them.
‘You heard nothing?’ Alyss asked and Evanlyn, her eyes wide with horror, shook her head.
‘Not a thing,’ she said, then remembered, ‘Once, just before the dawn, I thought the wind seemed to gust a little louder. But that was all.’ She indicated the carcass of the pig. ‘I never heard that happen! And I swear I was awake all night.’
She trembled with fear as she recalled how she had wanted to climb down from the platform during the night.
‘My god!’ she said softly. ‘I wanted to climb down! It could have been waiting then!’
Alyss nodded. Her stomach was tight with fear as well. They had no way of knowing how long the huge creature – whatever it was – had been lying watching them from the base of the tree.
Eventually, gathering their courage, they climbed down from their perch and studied the tracks in the snow.
‘It looks like some kind of giant cat,’ Evanlyn said. She couldn’t stop glancing back over her shoulder as she studied the paw marks. Alyss had moved to look at the depression where the creature had lain in the snow.
‘It must be at least four metres in length,’ she mused. ‘I wish Will was here. He’d make more sense out of these tracks.’
‘I wish he was here too
,’ Evanlyn said. But she was thinking more about the reassurance that Will’s powerful longbow and grey-shafted arrows could provide. Alyss glanced quickly at her, then, as she understood Evanlyn’s meaning, the suspicious frown on her face cleared. She rose and moved across to where the pig lay, stiff and cold now. Evanlyn followed her nervously, her hand on the hilt of the sword she wore. Alyss prodded the pig with the haft of one of her spears. It seemed to have been killed by one raking sweep of giant claws across its throat.
‘The Terror killed it. But it didn’t try to eat it,’ she muttered. ‘Or take the carcass with it.’
Evanlyn glanced at her fearfully. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked, although she thought she knew the answer.
‘The Terror didn’t want the pig raising the alarm. Aside from that, it wasn’t interested in the pig. It was stalking us.’
‘Next time,’ Halt said, ‘we won’t get off so lightly.’ They had lost only six men in the battle, with another dozen wounded, four badly. In contrast, they had captured over seventy swords, armour breastplates and helmets from the fallen Senshi – and there were many more of Arisaka’s men injured as well.
As Shigeru’s Senshi and the Kikori warriors were retreating up the narrow pass, Halt had detailed Mikeru and a dozen of his followers to obliterate the tracks leading back to the mouth of the secret entrance. The teenagers did this by dragging large pieces of canvas, sourced from the enemy’s abandoned tents, across the snow over a wide area in front of the gully. Mikeru was a very handy person to have around, Halt reflected. He was keen, energetic and he used his initiative. A small group of Senshi from Shigeru’s bodyguard remained on watch in the narrow gully, in case the enemy happened to stumble over the entrance.
Now the leadership group were reviewing the battle in Shigeru’s cabin. Halt had just voiced the thought that was in most of their minds.
‘Arisaka is no fool,’ Shigeru agreed. ‘He won’t rush in blindly, the way Todoki did. He will look for ways to defeat these new tactics devised by Chocho.’ He nodded at Will, who frowned slightly at the term but knew that now wasn’t the time for a language lesson.
‘What we have to do is put ourselves in Arisaka’s place,’ Halt said. ‘Try to work out how we would counter the tactics used by the two gojus.’
‘Four,’ Will said, and when Halt’s eyes swung to him he elaborated. ‘We’ll have at least two hundred men trained by the time the valley is open again.’
Selethen nodded in confirmation.
‘Good,’ said Halt. ‘But we’ll still be outnumbered and this time we won’t have the advantage of surprise. Arisaka will know how we’re going to fight. So if you were him, what would you do?’
Selethen cleared his throat and the others all looked at him.
‘We discussed this in Toscana,’ he pointed out. ‘Heavy weapons or artillery could break up the goju’s formed ranks. Once they lose their integrity, the Senshi can fight in their usual style – one on one.’
‘Arisaka has no heavy weapons,’ Halt replied. ‘And no way of getting any up through the mountains.’
‘True,’ Selethen admitted. ‘Then archers would be the next best thing.’ He turned to Shigeru. ‘How many archers do you think he could muster?’
The Emperor considered the question for a few seconds.
‘Perhaps thirty,’ he said. The rank and file Senshi didn’t practise archery. It was a skill reserved for the nobility.
‘Thirty archers can do a lot of damage,’ Will put in.
Horace leaned forward. ‘But the kamé counters that effectively,’ he said, referring to the tortoise formation Will had taught the Kikori.
‘Not if they can flank us and then attack from the rear,’ Selethen said. ‘The second rank will have to turn and face the new attack – and that destroys the kamé formation. They can’t keep their shields up over their heads if they’re facing a flank attack.’
Horace made a dismissive gesture. ‘Then we choose a spot where they can’t flank us. The valley below the palisade is narrow enough for that. Or we can simply wait behind the palisade itself.’
‘We can’t do that,’ said Halt. ‘We’ll have to take the fight to Arisaka. He’ll have reinforcements coming from the south. With enough men, he could take the palisade. But the problem is…’ He tailed off, not wishing to voice the thought that was in his mind.
Shigeru looked at him. ‘The problem, Halto-san?’
Reluctantly the Ranger answered. ‘We can’t afford to simply sit behind the palisade and fight a defensive battle indefinitely. If we do that, Arisaka will win. Ideally, he’d like to wipe us out. But if that’s taking too much time, he’ll simply leave enough men here to keep us bottled up, then march south and claim the throne. He can say you’re dead and nobody will be any the wiser,’ he told the Emperor.
Shigeru nodded thoughtfully. ‘And once he has claimed the throne, it will be twice as hard to unseat him.’
‘Exactly. So we need to force him to fight – to make him think it will be worth his while. And if we’re to do that, we need to second-guess him, and work out how he’ll counter our tactics.’
‘In broad terms,’ said Will slowly, ‘he’ll need to smash our shield wall – and outflank us at the same time. Correct?’
The others nodded agreement and he continued.
‘We know he has the numbers to outflank us if we fight him on open ground. If he can attack us, but still keep us at a distance, he’ll force us to advance. After all, our stabbing blades are only effective at close range. And if we advance from a prepared position to get to close quarters, we expose ourselves to a flanking movement.’
Horace was following his line of reasoning thoughtfully. What his friend said made sense. ‘But how can he attack us and keep us at a distance at the same time?’ he asked.
‘I was thinking of something like the Macedon Phalanx,’ Will said.
Shigeru noted the sudden, simultaneous intake of breath from Halt, Horace and Selethen. They all nodded thoughtfully.
‘What is the Macedon Phalanx?’ he asked.
‘The Macedons were warriors who developed a highly effective formation called the Phalanx,’ Halt explained to him. ‘It consisted of warriors armed with long, heavy lances, up to four metres long. They could smash through the front rank of an army before the enemy could make any reply.’
‘And you think Arisaka might know about this phalanx?’
‘No,’ Halt replied. ‘But the idea of using spearmen or pikemen could well occur to him. I’d be surprised if it didn’t – it’s a logical idea. They could attack our front rank and they’d be safe from our short blades.’
‘We’d have to close with them,’ Horace said. ‘We’d have to advance to fight them or our shield wall would be smashed to pieces.’
‘And as soon as we advance, their comrades can outflank us,’ Selethen said.
‘We could use our javelins as lances,’ Horace suggested. ‘We could throw the first volley, then retain the javelins from the second and third rank as stabbing weapons.’
Halt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘That might work. The odds are that Arisaka won’t have men who could handle anything as long as the Macedon lance. It takes years to develop the strength and skill necessary. My guess is they’ll use normal spears, so we’d be fighting spears with spears. But at best, that’ll be a stalemate. Eventually, we’ll need to get to close quarters. That’s where all the advantages lie with our men. So we need a way to stop any flanking movement.’
‘Fifty or so archers would come in handy,’ Will said.
‘If we could train them. And if we had fifty bows,’ Horace replied.
Will nodded despondently. But as he glanced up at his old mentor, he saw a light in Halt’s eyes.
‘I might have an idea,’ the older Ranger said. ‘Will, let’s you and I go and find young Mikeru.’
Will, Halt and Mikeru stood on the parade ground where the Kikori gojus usually trained. The troops were resting at the moment so they had th
e ground to themselves.
‘Mikeru,’ Halt said, ‘can you throw a spear?’
The young Kikori nodded enthusiastically. ‘Of course, Halto-san. All Kikori learn to use a spear when they are very young.’
‘Excellent.’ Halt handed the young man a standard Kikori throwing spear and nodded to a pole some forty metres distant, on which he had placed one of the captured armour breastplates. ‘Let me see you hit that breastplate.’
Mikeru tested the weight and balance of the spear, then strode forward until the target was thirty metres away. His right arm and body weight went back, his left leg extended and then he hurled the spear in a shallow arc. It smashed into the breastplate, piercing it and knocking it from the pole to clatter on the ground.
Halt noted the co-ordination of the throw, with right arm and shoulder, body and legs all combining to put maximum force behind the spear.
‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Will, would you replace the target please?’
Will moved forward to replace the damaged breastplate on the pole, jerking the spear free as he did so. When he turned back, Halt had led Mikeru back to a point fifty metres from the target. Will rejoined them quickly and Halt took the spear from him, offering it to Mikeru.
‘Let’s see you do it from here,’ he said. But Mikeru shook his head apologetically.
‘It’s too far. The spear is too heavy for me to throw so far.’
‘Thought so,’ Halt said. He now opened a rolled piece of canvas he had been carrying and produced a strange weapon, which he handed to Mikeru.
It was a giant dart, over a metre long and made from light bamboo, but with a heavy iron tip at one end. At the other end were three leather fins, laced and glued to the shaft like the fletching on an arrow. Just ahead of these fins, a shallow groove had been carved all the way around the shaft.
‘Try it with this,’ he said.
But again, Mikeru, after testing the weight of the projectile, shook his head.
‘This one is too light, Halto-san. I can’t put any force behind it.’
‘Exactly,’ Halt agreed. Then he produced a leather thong, knotted at one end and with a loop at the other. He wound the knotted end once around the groove at the rear of the shaft, then, holding it firmly in place, crossed the thong over itself, close to the knot, to hold it in place. Then, keeping tension on the thong, he extended it down the shaft to where Will noticed there was a section bound with thin cord, forming a hand grip. He took Mikeru’s right hand and slipped the looped end of the thong over it, then placed the boy’s hand on the cord-bound grip on the dart, making sure he kept the thong tight as he did so.
The Emperor of Nihon-Ja Page 33
