'Why will men never ask directions?' Alyss said. She had noticed a small group of locals perched on the harbour wall, fishing rods protruding out over the dark water. She strode towards them now and, as they became aware of her approach, she stopped and bowed politely. One of the fishermen scrambled down from the wall and bowed in return. Alyss spoke quietly to him for a second or two. There was a certain amount of pointing and arm waving, obviously indicating a sequence of direction changes. Then the man held up three fingers to make sure she understood fully. She bowed again and turned back to where Halt and Will were waiting.
'What did he say?' Will asked.
She smiled at him. 'He said my Nihon-Jan was excellent. Then he sort of spoiled that by adding "for a gaijin". Still, a compliment's a compliment, I suppose.'
'Was your excellent Nihon-Jan good enough to understand his directions to the rillokan?' Will asked sarcastically.
'That's ryokan, and yes, it was. Straight along that main road to the third lantern. Then left, then fourth right. There'll be a graphic of a crane outside the inn – a flying one,' she added, forestalling any comment from Halt. The Ranger simply shrugged.
'So I was right. It is this way,' he said as they set off.
The buildings were set close together, built from timber and with thatched roofs. Doors and windows were covered with sliding screens whose translucent panes showed the warm yellow of lanterns shining inside. Halt stepped a little closer to one and studied the small panels in the door.
'It's paper,' he said. 'Heavy paper. Probably waxed or oiled to make it rain proof. But it lets light through and preserves privacy at the same time. Ingenious.'
'Not so ingenious if a burglar wants to get in,' Will said. The doors and windows looked decidedly flimsy, he thought.
'Perhaps the locals are all law abiding,' Alyss commented.
They reached the third street lantern, which hung from a pole and swung from side to side in the gusty wind, and turned left into a side street. The buildings on either side seemed to close in on them in the narrow confines of the street. The main street, broad and windswept as it was, had been virtually deserted. But here more people hurried along, the women shuffling quickly in their long, narrow robes, men striding with a more open stride. Passers-by peered at them. Their clothes marked them as strangers, even if their faces and features were hidden by the deep cowls they all wore.
They heard babbles of conversation and sudden gusts of laughter from many of the buildings they passed. Occasionally, doors slid open and figures emerged, calling farewells back to their friends inside. As they emerged onto the street, they usually stopped to watch the three foreign figures passing by, hurrying through the shadows. But their interest was cursory. In a seaport like this, the locals were used to seeing foreigners.
'It seems we're being noticed,' Will said softly. Halt glanced sidelong at him.
'Not as much as if we came blundering down here in full daylight,' he said. 'And at least so far, we're only being seen by the townsfolk, not Arisaka's soldiers.'
'Maybe they don't come down these side alleys at night. How are we doing, Alyss?'
Alyss's face, in the shadow of her cowl, was contorted in a frown of concentration. The side street was even more erratic than the main street had been, twisting and turning and opening onto alleys and side entrances to the buildings. It was difficult to keep track of what was actually a street and what was simply a blind alley.
'Shut up. I'm counting,' she said. Then she pointed to a narrow opening on the right. 'That looks like it.'
They plunged into the alley. There were more people on the street now and they had to jostle their way through the slow-moving crowd as people stopped to read what appeared to be menu boards outside eating houses.
'S'mimasen,' Alyss said repeatedly as they brushed against passers-by.
'What does that mean?' Will asked, as they reached a stretch of street bare of any other pedestrians. He was impressed by Alyss's grasp of the local language.
'It means "pardon me",' Alyss replied, then a shadow of doubt crossed her face. 'At least, I hope it does. Maybe I'm saying "you have the manners of a fat, rancid sow". I'm told a lot of the meaning is in the pronunciation.'
'Still, that could be a useful phrase to know,' Halt said. But he'd noticed people's reactions to Alyss's apologies. They'd simply nodded acknowledgement and gone on their way. He was pretty sure she had the correct word. He, too, was impressed with the way she was coping. Pauline would be proud of her, he thought, and made a mental note to tell his wife about Alyss's language skills.
'There it is,' the girl said suddenly, pointing to a two-storey building on the opposite side of the street. It was more substantial than its neighbours. Its walls were constructed of solid logs, with the space between them filled in with clay or mud. There were several of the waxed-paper windows along the front of the building and four more on the upper floor, facing the street. The door was made of solid wood planks.
Beside the door, projecting over the street, was a signboard bearing a painting of a bird in flight. There were several Nihon-Jan ideograms written vertically down the signboard.
'That looks like a crane, sure enough,' Will said, 'and it's flying.'
Halt studied the board. 'Could be a pelican,' he said critically. 'But let's give it the benefit of the doubt.'
Leading the way, he pushed open the door, to be confronted by a wave of warmth. He paused for a second, studying the room beyond, then led the way inside.
Wet, muddy and exhausted, the Emperor's party finally reached the narrow footbridge.
Horace paused as he looked at it. It was a flimsy structure. There was a narrow, planked footpath, wide enough for only one person to pass at a time. Four heavy rope cables supported it: two on either side of the foot planks and another two, set a metre higher and further apart, that acted as hand rails. Short lengths of lighter rope were tied in a zigzag pattern from the lower cables to the higher, forming a flimsy side barrier to prevent travellers falling through. With the handrail cables set wider apart than the footpath, the bridge formed a truncated, inverted triangle. When he looked at the yawning drop below, and noticed that the bridge was swaying and vibrating gently in the wind, Horace decided it was not a structure that filled him with overwhelming confidence.
Horace didn't like heights. But he gathered himself, took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the narrow planks, grasping the side ropes firmly as he did so.
The minute his foot touched it, the bridge seemed to come alive, swaying and dipping as it described a giant circle in the air. Far below him, he heard the river rushing and tumbling over the rocks. Hastily, he stepped back onto solid land, realising that he'd be a handicap to the others. The Kikori, used to this sort of terrain, would move more quickly across the bridge than he could. They would be held up if he went first.
'I'll cross last,' he said and motioned for the nearest Senshi to lead the way.
The warrior stepped onto the bridge. He paused while he absorbed the rhythm of its movement, then strode confidently across. Reito and several other Senshi followed, reaching the far side quickly. Then Shigeru crossed, followed by the first two of the Kikori stretcher bearers. They stepped carefully onto the bridge, moving more slowly, with both men having to adapt to the bridge's plunging, swooping motion. Eiko, who had watched their progress, called a suggestion to the next pair of stretcher bearers. They stopped and set their stretcher down. One of them slung the wounded man over his shoulder and set off across the bridge. Horace could see that he moved faster this way. The second man followed his companion, with the folded stretcher balanced over his shoulder.