The Kikori had come to a halt, watching the pursuing army nervously. In a straight line across the valley, they were less than a kilometre away – although the distance they would have to travel to catch up was many times that. But it was unnerving to see them so close.
He caught Reito's eye and gestured to the opposite ridge.
'They're moving fast,' he said. 'Faster than we are.'
Reito nodded. 'They don't have wounded to carry with them,' he said. 'Lord Shukin will slow them down,' he added confidently.
'Maybe,' Horace said. He wondered how much time Shukin would be able to buy them. 'But let's keep moving anyway.'
Reito turned away and shouted an order. The column began to move again, slipping and sliding in the mud. Those at the rear had the hardest time, as the surface of the track was churned by hundreds of feet before them. Eyes were turned towards the far ridge as they continued upwards. But then the trees blocked it from sight. Horace wasn't sure which he preferred. Seeing how close the enemy were might be an unnerving experience, but not seeing them, yet knowing they were there, seemed worse somehow.
Reito called a ten-minute rest stop and ordered a change of stretcher bearers. Those who had been carrying the wounded set their burdens down gratefully and fresh bearers came to take over the load. The rest period seemed to pass in an instant and Reito had them on the move again. He moved up and down the column, sometimes chivvying the weary travellers to greater efforts, sometimes joking and encouraging them as the situation seemed to demand. Horace thought wearily that Reito, with all his back and forth movement along the column, was covering twice as much ground as the rest of them.
They were close to the top of the ridge when Shigeru pointed to a rocky outcrop, where a gap in the trees afforded a clear sight of the valley. As the group of Kikori and Senshi toiled upwards, he and Horace clambered onto the rocks and looked down.
The ford was below them. On the far side, Arisaka's men were massed. A small group of warriors was struggling across the river, waist deep in the swift water, to attack the defenders. It was obviously not the first attack. Several bodies were slumped over the hedge of sharpened stakes that had been driven into the ground of the river bank. More were visible, drifting slowly downstream in the deeper water below the ford. The river itself was streaked with red ribbons of blood.
Horace looked carefully but he could see only four defenders on the near side of the bank. He heaved a sigh of relief as he made out Shukin's blue-lacquered leather armour. The Senshi leader was positioned now to meet the next attack. One of his men stood beside him, sword drawn. The others crouched behind them, each armed with a long, sharpened stake. As the attackers came within range, they thrust forward at the leading men. One of the attackers was knocked off balance and fell, to be swept away into the deep water beside the ford. Another swept his sword at the probing stake and shattered it. Instantly, the defender withdrew, leaving Shukin and his companion room to fight at close quarters.
Swords flashed in the dim shadows of the valley. The sound of steel ringing on steel carried faintly to them, but it was delayed by the distance and out of time with the actions of the men below, making Horace feel strangely disoriented.
Five of the enemy fell in the first rapid exchanges, Shukin accounting for three of them, and the other attackers drew back to the middle of the stream to regroup. But now Horace could see that Shukin's companion had sunk to his knees as well. One of the others tossed aside his stake, drew his sword and stepped up beside Shukin. The injured man crawled back to the bank. He managed to creep a few metres away from the ford, then lay still.
Shigeru touched his hand to Horace's arm.
'Look,' he said, pointing.
On the far side of the ford, a figure was striding purposefully into the water. He was flanked by at least ten warriors and he wore brilliant, vermilion-coloured armour.
'Arisaka?' Horace asked, although he already thought he knew the answer.
Shigeru nodded gravely. 'Apparently he thinks Shukin has delayed them long enough.'
Horace looked at his friend. Shigeru's face, normally so enigmatic and composed, was drawn with worry.
'Does Shukin have any chance against Arisaka?' he asked.
Slowly, the Emperor shook his head. 'No.'
The latest attack was taking shape now. The ten men with Arisaka crowded forward, slashing and stabbing, in a compact mass. Shukin and his companion met them, cutting at them so that men reeled away in pain or fell and lay still in the river. But sheer weight of numbers was pushing the defenders back. The attackers had managed to gain a foothold on the bank now, inside the hedge of sharpened stakes. Most of them were concentrating their efforts on Shukin's assistant. Shukin launched himself in a flank attack on the knot of fighting men, and two fell in quick succession. But he had to turn aside to do it and that left him vulnerable. Suddenly, the vermilion-armoured figure charged forward, shoving some of his own men aside, and Shukin found himself flanked. He turned to face Arisaka, parried the general's blade and cut backwards with his own. Arisaka recoiled.
'He cut him!' Horace called excitedly. His hand gripped Shigeru's shoulder. But the Emperor shook his head.
'Not badly,' he said and Horace saw he was right. Arisaka was advancing again and Shukin was forced back by the wheeling circle of light formed by Arisaka's blade.
'Be careful, Shukin! Remember he will…Aaaah!'
The cry of despair was torn from Shigeru as Arisaka launched a sudden, confusing attack. He struck two blindingly fast blows at Shukin, from the left and the right, swinging in a high downward stroke each time and wheeling in a full circle to give his sword extra force and momentum. As Shukin parried desperately, Arisaka pirouetted for a third strike, and Shukin's blade went up defensively again. But this time, the anticipated blow never came. Instead, as he was halfway through his turn, Arisaka reversed his grip on the sword and delivered a lightning-fast backward thrust. Caught by surprise, Shigeru's cousin staggered to one side, his sword falling from his hand. He doubled over in agony and fell to one knee.
Almost contemptuously, Arisaka took a pace forward and struck again.
Shukin fell face down on the sandy riverbank. He didn't move. Belatedly, delayed by the distance, Shigeru and Horace heard the concerted yell of triumph that came from Arisaka's men.
They had been kneeling to watch the battle and now Horace put his hand under the Emperor's arm and raised him to his feet.
'We'd better get moving,' he said. 'We have to use the time he's bought us.'
They had been moored alongside the pier for several hours before the Iwanai authorities showed any interest in them. Halt was eager to go ashore and begin the search for Atsu, but he knew this would be a mistake.
'Never a good idea to go ashore before you've paid your mooring fees,' Gundar had told him. It was normal practice in any port to wait for permission to land – which was usually granted after a hefty payment had been handed over. If he ignored that practice, he'd only draw attention to his actions and might even be banned from further visits ashore.
In the midafternoon, a party of four Senshi warriors swaggered down the quay, sending the dockside workers and fishermen scattering hurriedly out of their way. They boarded Wolfwill without invitation and their leader conversed briefly in the common tongue with Gundar. The five passengers watched proceedings from the cramped confines of the sleeping quarters in the stern.
The leader of the warriors seemed uninterested, even contemptuous, when the skirl told him the ship had travelled from Skandia, and that the country lay many leagues to the west. It was obvious that, in the Nihon-Jan warrior's eyes, a foreigner was a foreigner, no matter where he came from, and all foreigners were beneath the interest of a member of the Senshi class.