'For flying. A large bird type of crane,' she corrected him. 'In fact, as near as I can work it out, shokaku means "a flying crane".'
'Seems like a logical thing for a crane to do,' Halt mused. 'I suppose you wouldn't expect it to mean "a hiking crane" or "a waddling crane".' He paused, then studied Alyss carefully for a few seconds. 'Are you sure you'll be able to make yourself understood here?'
Alyss hesitated. 'Pretty sure. It's one thing practising a language with another foreigner, another to hear it spoken by the natives. But I'm fairly sure I'll manage. One thing, though,' she added. 'I think when we go ashore looking for this Atsu person we should keep the numbers down.'
The trace of a smile touched Halt's mouth. 'You're right,' he said. 'After all, we are an exotic bunch, aren't we? I suspect the sight of Selethen, Gundar and Nils walking the streets would draw a lot of attention. We'd be better to keep as low a profile as possible.'
'So it'll just be the four of us?' Evanlyn said and Halt shook his head.
'Three. Alyss because she speaks the language. Will because I want someone to watch my back.'
'But…' Evanlyn began, her cheeks reddening. His unspoken words were all too obvious. There was no useful role she could play in the search for George's former guide. Yet she hated the idea of being left out. Evanlyn had a keen sense of curiosity and always liked to be at the centre of things.
Halt raised an eyebrow at her now. 'But?' he repeated.
'Well, it's not really fair, is it?' Evanlyn protested. 'After all, this is my expedition.' The words sounded weak as she said them.
'Fair has nothing to do with it,' Halt replied. 'But you're right, it is your expedition…'
Before he could continue, Evanlyn seized on his words, thinking he might be showing signs of relenting.
'That's right! If it weren't for me, none of us would be here.'
'Actually, I think credit for getting us here goes to Gundar,' Will interposed, and she glared at him.
Halt stepped in quickly to nip any further discord in the bud. 'As I say, it is your expedition – and I'm sure you'd want to see it carried out in the most efficient way possible. Correct?'
'Well…if you put it that way…of course,' Evanlyn was forced to concede.
'And that means a small party going ashore initially,' Halt said, his tone indicating that this was the end of the discussion. Then his voice softened a little. 'Bear with me on this, Evanlyn. I know you're anxious about Horace.'
Will was a little puzzled by Halt's words. 'No more anxious than the rest of us, surely?' he said.
Halt turned away and raised his eyebrows as his gaze met Selethen's. Sometimes, he thought, his former apprentice could be remarkably slow on the uptake. He saw the Arridi's slow nod of understanding.
'I think we all agree, Halt,' Selethen said. 'We should keep a low profile until we know the situation here. And you Rangers are very good at that.' He smiled at Evanlyn. 'I'm sure the rest of us will have the chance to play a role in due course, Princess.'
Evanlyn gave in. She was disappointed, but she could see that Halt's decision made sense. A large party of foreigners arriving and asking questions would draw attention. And that could lead to the locals being reluctant to give out any information at all. If there had in fact been a rebellion against the Emperor, the situation could be extremely touchy in Iwanai.
'You're right, Halt,' she said and he nodded acknowledgement of her backing down.
'Nice to hear someone else saying that for a change,' Will said cheerfully. 'Seems I've said those words an awful lot in my time.'
Halt turned a bleak gaze on him. 'And you've always been correct.'
Will shrugged and grinned at Evanlyn. She was reconciled now to the plan and she smiled back at him. The most important thing, she realised, was to find out where Horace had gone. It didn't really matter who found that out, as long as they did.
Nihon-Jan sailors leaned on the railings of the ships to either side of them as Wolfwill nosed carefully into a berth in Iwanai harbour. More than one of them cast suspicious glances over the length of the wolfship. Her lines told them that she wasn't a trading vessel – the hull was too narrow to allow for any large amount of storage below decks. She was a fighting ship, they sensed. A raider. And as such, she would be treated with reserve. Several captains, watching her slide in towards the mole, took note of the wolf figurehead at her prow. Appropriate, they thought, and resolved to keep a close watch on her all the time she was in port.
'In oars!' Gundar yelled. Water cascaded down over the rowers as they raised their oars to the vertical, then lowered them and stowed them. The ship was coming into the mole at an angle, her bow pointing at the middle of the gap left between two other ships. Gundar, intent on his task, eased the tiller to the right and the bow swung to port.
'Stern line!' he called and the sailor beside him sent the mooring line curling high into the air to land on the mole. Instantly, three shore men seized it and began hauling on it. The ship's stern swung into the pier and they took a turn around a wooden bollard, checking her way as they heaved on it, allowing the rope to run increasingly slowly.
'Bow line away!' Gundar called. The second rope sailed in a high parabola, and was hauled in in its turn. The ship had lost all forward way now and was sliding sideways through the water towards the pier. Four of the starboard-side rowers tossed wicker fenders over the bulwark, letting them hang down to protect the ship's planking from the rough stone of the mole.
The fenders creaked a protest as Wolfwill made contact with the land, the sound gradually diminishing to a few low squeaks as she stopped moving. Two of the ship's crew sprang ashore and supervised the fastening of the mooring lines. Gundar never trusted local shore idlers to carry out that task. He let go a deep breath and turned to his expectant passengers.
'Well,' he said, 'here we are.'
Shukin found a suitable spot for his plan midway through the following morning.
They had descended a deep valley between two massive ridges, and a fast-running river ran through the lowest point. The trail they were following led to a shallow ford, wide enough for only two men to cross at a time. On the upstream side of the ford, the river tumbled down a steep, rocky cliff. Downstream was a deep, wide pool. Either side, the banks were sheer and steep. Shukin paused as he surveyed the site, waiting for the last of the Kikori to cross. They waded through the water with difficulty – the shallow water of the ford made the river run even more quickly.
'A few men could hold this for hours,' he said. 'Arisaka's men can only come at us two at a time.'
Horace surveyed the spot quickly. 'Those high banks upstream and downstream will stop them coming ashore there. You're right. This is the only point where they can cross. The only danger is if there's another ford somewhere downstream, where they could get across and flank your position.'
'Even if there is, the trees are too thick for them to move downstream quickly. No, this is where they'll have to cross.'
Shigeru was nodding. 'Besides, it's not in Arisaka's nature to look for an alternative crossing,' he said. 'He'll want to try to bull his way across the river here. He's not renowned for subtlety and he has little regard for the lives of his men.'
'That's what I was thinking,' Shukin said.
'We could reinforce this side with stakes driven into the sand on either side of the ford,' Horace said. 'That'd make sure they have to cross on a narrow front.'
'Good idea,' Shukin said. He glanced around, saw Eiko watching them and passed on instructions for some of the Kikori to cut and sharpen stakes from the trees and hammer them into the ground, set at an angle and jutting out over the river's surface. Immediately, a dozen men set about the task.
'Helps to have skilled timber workers with you,' Horace said with a small grin.
'So, cousin,' Shigeru said, choosing his words carefully, 'your plan is to leave a small party of men here to hold the ford and delay Arisaka's army as long as possible?'