John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

'Out of range,' Will said. 'You were right.'

'I'm not sure if they really meant to hit us or just divert our attention,' Halt replied. 'But either way, I think we might show them it's a bad idea to ride along there.'

He nocked an arrow to his own bowstring. Will did the same. The riders released another volley, which again fell short of Wolfwill.

'Take the one at the back with the purple turban, Will. I'll take the one beside him,' Halt said quietly. Will nodded.

'Now,' said Halt and they brought their bows up, drew and released in almost one movement.

The two arrows, one black and one grey, shot away, climbing into the hot air, then arcing down.

The riders Halt had singled out were in the act of shooting again when the two long, heavy arrows hissed down and struck them. Halt's target yelled in pain, dropping his bow and clutching at the arrow that had suddenly slammed into his upper arm. The man in the purple turban made no sound. He toppled sideways out of his saddle and hit the brown sand with a dull thud.

There were yells of confusion as their five companions scattered in panic. The message was all too clear. Their own volleys had fallen short of the target, while the two return shots had hit targets at the rear of their group, farthest from the ship. Which meant all of them were within easy range. Suddenly, they felt very, very exposed. They wheeled their horses away from the bank and rode over the crest to safety, the riderless horse following them.

Only the man in the purple turban remained, lying unmoving on the sand.

A few seconds later, the men on the south bank seemed to realise that their ambush had been detected. They appeared above the crest of the bank, waving weapons and yelling insults and curses at the ship as it glided arrogantly by. There were over two score of them, raggedly dressed and armed with an assortment of swords, spears and daggers, with several short bows among them. The bowmen shot a few ragged volleys but they were all well short of the ship. Will looked at Halt, then glanced down at the bow in his hands, but the bearded Ranger shook his head.

'Leave them,' Halt said. 'They can't hurt us and now they know it's safer to leave us alone.' He turned to Gundar. 'All the same, it might not be a good idea to anchor anywhere midstream for a rest.'

The sun was setting astern of them, a giant ball turned blood red by the tiny particles of sand that hung in the desert air, when they slipped quietly out of the Assaranyan Channel into the Blood Sea – a narrow gulf that led eventually to the wide spaces of the Eastern Ocean.

'I guess that's where the name comes from,' Will said, jerking a thumb at the water's surface behind them.

The intense glow of the sunset was reflected in the surface of the water, turning it to the same spectacular red colour, shimmering and shifting on the waves as they trapped and reflected the last light of the day so that the water itself looked like a sea of blood.

A gentle sea breeze sprang up from the south once they were several hundred metres offshore. It was warm, but nonetheless welcome after the stultifying heat that had engulfed them as they rowed through the channel.

'Make sail,' Gundar ordered. In the absence of roaring wind and waves, he could give his commands in a much calmer voice than his normal bellow. The sail handlers hurried to unfurl the port sail and hoist the slender boom that supported it to the masthead. As the wind caught the canvas and it bellied out, he gave more quick orders.

'Sheet home. In oars.'

The long oars rose, dripping, from the water. There were a few seconds of clattering and banging as the rowers drew them inboard and stowed them along the line of the ship. At the same time, the sailing crew hauled in on the sheets controlling the triangular sail. Initially bellying out loosely in the wind, it now hardened into a smooth, efficient curve and the passengers felt the harnessed thrust of the wind take effect. Wolfwill heeled a little to port, then Gundar leaned his weight on the tiller, heading the ship at right angles to the wind.

'Loosen off,' he called. He could sense that the sail, sheeted too tightly, was causing the ship to heel further than was necessary and this was costing them speed. Wolfwill steadied, came a little more upright, then swooped over a long, slow swell like a gull.

Gundar looked around at his passengers and couldn't help grinning at them.

'I never get tired of that!' he said and they smiled in return. The ship's motion was exhilarating, particularly after the hours of heat and tension as they passed through the Assaranyan Channel.

'So what can we expect from the Blood Sea, Gundar?' Will asked the big, burly Skandian.

Gundar braced the tiller with his hip and spread the Genovesan sailing notes on the small chart table beside him. He consulted the carefully lettered script for a few minutes, then looked up at Will.

'At this time of year, we should have steady winds,' he said. 'Although in a month or two there'd be a good chance of being becalmed.'

Sailors, Will noted, always wanted you to know the worst news, even when things were looking good.

'And,' Gundar continued, 'the notes say to avoid other ships as much as possible. Apparently the sea here is crawling with pirates.'

'Pirates?' Halt asked.

Gundar nodded, jerking a thumb at the notes. 'That's what it says here. Pirates.'

Halt raised both his eyebrows for once.

'Pirates,' he said. 'Oh, goody.'

'Yes. I know the way to Ran-Koshi,' the timber worker told them. Shukin and Shigeru exchanged a quick glance. They had begun to fear that the fabled fortress of Ran-Koshi was just that – a fable. Now, it seemed, they might have found a guide.

'You've been there?' Shukin asked. It was one thing to say you knew where a place was, another entirely if you'd actually been there.

'It's where we get our supplies of the fragrant timber,' the villager said.

Shigeru frowned, wondering what trees he meant.

Seeing the expression, Shukin said quietly, 'Camphor wood.'

Toru, the villager, nodded. 'Yes. I've heard it called that.' He saw the relieved expressions on the faces of the two Senshi and added a warning. 'It's a difficult place to get to. You'll have to go on foot from here. Horses will never manage the mountain trails.'

'Then we'll walk,' Shigeru said with a smile. 'I may be the Emperor, but I'm not a fragile little flower. I've done my share of travelling hard.'

'You may have. But what about those?' Toru said, sweeping his hand around the cleared communal space at the centre of Riverside Village. The three men were seated on low stools on the polished wood verandah of the village headman's house. The headman, Jito, had summoned Toru to speak to the Emperor when he learned that the Senshi party were seeking the ancient fortress of Ran-Koshi.

Now, at Toru's gesture, Shukin and Shigeru looked at the rows of injured men gathered around the square. At least a third of the Senshi who had escaped Arisaka's army were wounded – some of them seriously. Many would have to travel on litters or stretchers, and even the ones who could walk could only travel slowly because of their wounds.

'Our village headman would offer to look after them here if you asked him,' Toru said. 'But you would be causing great hardship to the villagers if you did so.'

Shukin made an apologetic gesture, touching his hand to the money purse at his belt.

'Naturally, we would pay,' he said but Toru shook his head.

'Winter is nearly here. The villagers have stockpiled barely enough food to last them through the cold months. They can't eat money and there wouldn't be enough food in the local markets for them and these extra people.'

It had been a different matter at the previous village, Shukin thought gloomily. There, the villagers only had to provide for a dozen people for one night. He knew Toru was right. They couldn't ask a small village to care for and feed thirty wounded men for several months. And in any case, he was reluctant to leave the Senshi behind. Many of them would recover and that would provide Shigeru with a nucleus of trained warriors. Not an army, perhaps, but a start towards one. They couldn't afford to abandon such a potential force.