John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

Selethen noted that Evanlyn's guard position was correct this time. Perhaps she will learn from all this and not go rushing into the fight, he thought. And perhaps the Great Blue Whale that the Skandians believe to cause the rising and falling tide will leap from the ocean, sprout wings and fly in a circle around the ship.

'Begin,' he said in a resigned tone.

And there went Evanlyn, like an arrow from a bow, springing across the deck and swinging a series of rapid overhead cuts – backhand, forehand and backhand again. The strokes were clumsy but her speed made up for the fact. Alyss, expecting another long thrust, was caught by surprise and forced to give ground, backing away and parrying the blows desperately with her own blade, so that a series of clacks and cracks rang out across the deck.

There was a low murmur of encouragement from the Skandians who had backed Evanlyn to win. It should be noted that they had only done so because their shipmates had offered generous odds of three to one – hard to resist in a two-person contest.

But then Evanlyn's impulsiveness got the better of her. At the point where she should have seen that Alyss had recovered her own rhythm and weathered the attack successfully, she persisted with one stroke too many. Unable to sustain the lightning speed of her first half-dozen blows, she had slowed noticeably and Alyss, now back in control, flicked her final stroke to the side, then threw in another wristy back-hander.

This time, however, her blade cracked painfully off Evanlyn's elbow.

'Ooooow!' Evanlyn screeched. 'You great gangly cow!'

The sword dropped to the deck once more. Her arm and hand were numb and tingling. Alyss's riposte, whether intentionally or not, had caught her on the nerve at the point of the elbow.

'Alyss!' Selethen said angrily. 'We agreed -'

'We agreed that her hand was off limits,' Alyss said, all injured innocence. 'I hit her elbow, not her hand. If we're going to…Ooooowwwwoooooooh!'

The sudden howl of agony was wrung from her as she felt a searing pain in her right leg. Evanlyn, cradling her numb right arm with her left, had stepped in and swung her boot hard into Alyss's shin, tearing her tights and scoring a long, shallow wound on the edge of the bone. Alyss, her face wrinkled in pain, hobbled sideways to the bulwark and rested against it. She glared at Evanlyn, then glanced down and realised she still had her own sword in her hand, while Evanlyn was unarmed. She started forward.

'ENOUGH!' Halt bellowed.

All eyes turned to him in surprise. Even the Skandians looked impressed at the volume he'd mustered. Halt looked angrily at the two girls, both nursing their injuries, each furious with the other.

'Will you two stop squabbling and squalling like a pair of spoilt, self-centred brats?' Halt continued. 'I am sick and tired of it. Both of you should know better.'

Alyss's eyes dropped from his and she stood, shamefaced, before him. Evanlyn, however, was still angry – and ready to assert her own dignity.

'Is that so, Halt? May I remind you that this particular "spoilt, self-centred brat" is your royal princess?'

Halt spun round on her. His eyes were glittering with fury and Evanlyn, in spite of herself, took a pace back. She had never seen Halt so angry.

'Royal princess?' he said with contempt. 'Royal princess? May I suggest, royal princess, that you tell that to someone who gives a flying fig about it? If you weren't nearly full-grown, I'd put you over my knee and tan your backside for you!'

Evanlyn was scandalised by the idea. 'If you laid hands on me, my father would have you flogged!'

Halt snorted derisively. 'If your father were here, he'd hold my cloak while I did it!'

Evanlyn opened her mouth to reply, then paused. Truth be told, knowing her father, she thought Halt was probably correct.

'Now for god's sake, will you two start behaving like a princess and a Courier?' Halt told them. 'If you don't, I'll have to think about sending Will home.'

'Me?' Will said, his voice breaking into a high-pitched squeak of indignation. 'What's it got to do with me?'

'It's all your fault!' Halt shouted irrationally.

And as he said it, the two girls realised he was right. Jealousy over Will was making them behave like little children. Alyss was the first to respond. She thought that was only fair, as she'd been the one most at fault. She dropped the sword, took a step towards Evanlyn and held out her hand in peace.

'I'm sorry, Evanlyn. I behaved atrociously,' she said miserably. Her sincerity was obvious and Evanlyn, who was quick to anger, was equally quick to forgive and to see her own faults. She took the hand.

'My apologies too, Alyss. I shouldn't have kicked you. Is your shin all right?'

Alyss looked down to where a trickle of blood was running down her shin. 'Not really,' she said, with a lopsided grin. 'But I guess I deserved it.'

'No guessing about it,' Halt said. 'You definitely deserved it.' But he regarded the girls keenly and nodded in satisfaction. He was all too aware of the tension that existed between them and he'd known this day would come, sooner or later. Better to have it sooner and be done with it, he thought. When he spoke, his voice had lost the harsh edge of his previous statements.

'Perhaps we should forego further fencing lessons for a while,' he said and the girls nodded.

Selethen gave a deep sigh. 'I'm for that.'

There was an awkward pause. Finally, it was Gundar who broke it.

'I don't know if anyone's interested,' he said tentatively, 'but there appears to be a pirate ship heading our way.'

The party of Senshi riders emerged from the forest in a ragged formation and drew rein in the small communal area of Riverside Village.

Nothing stirred in the village. The forest birds, which had grown silent with the noisy passage of the strangers, gradually began to sing again in the trees around the little circle of cabins. The small river that ran on the far side of the village, and gave the place its name, gurgled and chuckled over the rocks in its shallows. The noise seemed abnormally loud in the silence.

The lead rider twitched his reins impatiently, glaring round at the silent, seemingly empty huts.

'Kikori!' he shouted. 'Show yourselves! We want food and drink and we want them now!'

The forest seemed to swallow his voice. There was no reply, only the birds and the river.

'There's no one here, Chui,' said one of the riders, using the leader's rank of lieutenant. The officer glared at the man who had spoken. He was tired. He was saddle sore. And he was becoming increasingly angry with these damned Kikori, who either refused to answer his questions or fled into the forest at the first sign of him and his men. Time these insolent peasants were taught a good lesson, he thought.

He dismounted stiffly, taking a few paces to stretch his tired muscles. Riding in this mountainous terrain, with its constant switching of slopes and angles, was an exhausting business.

'Dismount,' he told his men and they followed his example. He jerked a thumb at the man who had spoken.

'You. Go and search those cabins.' He indicated three of the larger cabins, grouped together and facing onto the common ground. 'You go with him,' he ordered a second warrior.

The two men, hands on the hilts of their long swords, strode with a stiff-legged swagger. They mounted the steps of the closest pair of cabins. The first man kicked open the door, shattering the doorpost so that the door hung crookedly from one leather hinge, and strode inside, his muddy boots marking and scratching the carefully polished wooden floor. It was the ultimate act of arrogance among the Nihon-Jan to enter a home without removing shoes. Those outside heard his boots ringing on the floor as he moved through the cabin. After a short while, he appeared at the doorway.