John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

'We'll eat and rest for a short time,' he said. 'That'll give us and the horses a chance to recover.'

They unsaddled the horses and rubbed them down. In this weather, it wouldn't do to leave the sweat on them to dry and cool in the chill wind. While this was going on, three of the servants unpacked food from the panniers they carried behind their saddles. By the time the riders had tended to their horses, the food was ready, and the servants had a fire going to make tea.

Horace accepted a plate of pickles, smoked trout and spiced rice rolled into balls, and made his way to a level patch of ground. He hunkered down on a fallen log, groaning slightly as his knees and thighs let him know how hard they had been working. It was pleasant to rest for a few minutes, he thought. He just hoped that the brief stop wouldn't be enough to let his muscles stiffen. If they did, the first half hour on the trail again would be torture. He resolved to get up and walk around the clearing once he had eaten.

The food was good. Light, tasty and with a welcome tang. Horace looked at the size of the helping on his plate. The Nihon-Jan were, on the whole, a small race. He felt he could have happily dealt with a much larger portion of lunch. Then he shrugged philosophically. He always thought that, wherever he was and whatever he was given.

Shukin, having checked that Shigeru needed nothing, had done a quick tour of the temporary camp, ensuring that all the men were eating and none of the horses had developed problems. Then, when he was satisfied, a servant handed him a plate of food and he sank down on the log beside Horace. The Araluan noted glumly that Shukin, used to sitting cross-legged on the ground since childhood, showed no sign of stiffness or discomfort as he sat.

'How far do you plan to go today?' Horace asked him.

Shukin screwed up his face as he considered the question. 'I had hoped to cross the Sarinaki River,' he said. He indicated the direction they had been travelling in. 'It's another twenty kilometres uphill from here. There's a waterfall with a crossing just above it.'

'We should be able to make that distance,' Horace said. 'We've got another five hours of daylight, at least.'

'Depending on the trail,' Shukin told him. 'It's relatively easy going at the moment but it gets steeper and rougher in a few kilometres. That will slow us down.'

'Hmmm. That could be a problem. And if it rains, the track will get more slippery, I suppose?' Horace asked.

The Senshi lord nodded. 'It certainly won't help. But if we can, I'd like to get across the river before dark.'

That made sense to Horace. Crossing a river just upstream of a high waterfall could be a difficult and dangerous business. And any waterfall in this mountainous terrain would be a high one, he knew.

'The crossing's tricky, is it?' he asked.

Shukin pushed out his bottom lip and made a so-so gesture with his hand. 'It's not the easiest,' he admitted. 'But I have another reason for wanting to get there before dark. The spot commands a view of the country below us. I'd like the chance to see if there's any sign of Arisaka and his men.'

Travelling as they were, surrounded by high, dense trees on either side of the trail, they could gather little knowledge of what was going on behind them. Horace realised that Shukin was feeling the inevitable uncertainty of any leader conducting a retreat from a superior force. He needed to know where their pursuers were – how close they were, whether they were gaining on the small party that travelled with the Emperor. Running blind, as they were, was a recipe for tension and uncertainty. You never knew when armed warriors might burst out of the trees, yelling their battle cries, swords poised to strike.

Just as they had that morning.

'And if we don't make the river?' Horace asked. It was all very well to plan for the best possible circumstances. But the worst possible had to be considered as well.

Shukin shrugged. 'There's a small village not far from the falls. We'll shelter there for the night.'

The rain, which had been absent for almost an hour, began again as he spoke. It was a light, misting rain, deceptive in its intensity. It seemed harmless enough at first but it was constant and unremitting. After ten to fifteen minutes of this, Horace knew, cloaks and trousers would become saturated, so that the water, no longer being absorbed by the weave, would flow off and run down into boot tops. It didn't take long under these conditions for a person to become sodden and miserable.

'Well, if we don't make the falls,' Horace said philosophically, 'at least we'll have somewhere dry to sleep tonight.'

The rain turned the surface of the trail to a slippery, glue-like consistency. The horses lurched and stumbled upwards, occasionally causing Horace's hair to stand on end as he caught glimpses of the dizzying depths below him, when the screen of trees beside the road thinned from time to time.

Even more serious, the thick, sticky mud built up on the horses' hooves, forcing the riders to stop frequently and clear the mess away.

He saw Shukin glancing more frequently at the pale, watery disc that marked the sun's position. The Senshi lord's face was fixed in a frown now. It was midafternoon and Horace, even though he wasn't sure how far they had travelled, knew it was nothing like the distance they would have to cover if they were to cross the river in daylight. Eventually, with a slumping of his shoulders, Shukin seemed to come to the same opinion. He held up his hand to stop the little column and edged his horse back down the slope to where the Emperor sat patiently. Horace urged his own horse closer to join in the discussion.

'We won't get across the river tonight,' Shukin said.

Shigeru pursed his lips in disappointment. 'You're sure?' he asked, then he waved any possible answer aside as he corrected himself. 'Of course you're sure. You wouldn't have said it, otherwise.'

'I'm sorry, cousin,' Shukin said, but Shigeru repeated the dismissive wave of his hand.

'You've done everything possible,' he said. 'I can't blame you for the rain – or for this mud.'

He glanced meaningfully down at the irregular balls of mud that encased his horse's feet. As he did so, one of his servants slipped from his saddle and hurried forward to clean the sticky mass away. Shigeru looked down at the man as he bent over the horse's left forefoot.

'I should send him away and do that myself,' he said ruefully. 'A man should attend to his own horse.' He paused, then allowed himself a weary grin. 'But I'm just too damned tired.'

Horace smiled in return. 'It's good to be the Emperor,' he said and Shigeru regarded him cynically.

'Oh yes indeed. Look at the excellent time I'm having. Warm, comfortable travelling conditions. Plenty of good food and drink and a soft bed at the end of the trail. What more could I ask?'

He and Horace shared the small joke but Shukin lowered his gaze. 'I'm sorry, cousin,' he said bitterly. 'You don't deserve this.'

Shigeru reached over in the saddle and laid a gentle hand on his cousin's shoulder.

'I'm sorry, Shukin,' he said. 'I'm not complaining. I know you're doing your best to keep me safe. I'll be grateful for a straw bed in a leaky hut in some small village tonight.'

'Unfortunately, that seems to be what's in store for us,' Shukin agreed. 'A little further up this rise, the road levels out and forks. Left leads to the falls and the crossing. Right leads us to a timber cutters' village. We'll turn right.'

'One thing,' Shigeru added doubtfully. 'Will this rain have any effect on the crossing? What if it causes the river to rise? Should we perhaps try to get there even if it is in the dark?'

But Shukin shook his head without any sign of uncertainty. 'It's not heavy enough for that. The water doesn't build up because it escapes so easily at the falls.'