John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

'You sent for me, Lord Shukin?'

'Yes. Yes. Never mind that,' Shukin said, waving away Toru's formal bow. 'Sit down here.'

The Kikori guide sank to his knees, feet folded under him. Horace shook his head. He could only hold that position for a few minutes, then his knees and thighs would begin burning. The locals, he knew, could sit comfortably for hours in that pose.

'Arisaka is a day away from this point,' Shukin told Toru. The guide showed no sign of emotion at the news. 'At the current rate he's catching us, we've probably got a day and a half. Maybe two days if we push the column as hard as we can.'

He paused to let Toru absorb this information.

'How long do you think it will take us to reach Ran-Koshi?'

The Kikori raised his eyes to meet Shukin's. 'At our current speed, at least four days.'

Shukin's shoulders sank. He had expected the answer but had been hoping against hope that Toru might have better news.

'Then we have to find some way to delay him,' Shukin said, after a moment's thought.

Toru's face brightened and he reached for the map, turning it towards him and studying it. Then he jabbed a forefinger at a spot.

'Here, lord,' he said. 'This ravine is impassable – except for a simple footbridge. If we destroy it, Arisaka will have to take a long detour…along this ridge…down another, then across this narrow valley. And then he'll have to regain all that lost ground.' His hand swept in a long curve across the map. 'It will take him at least two weeks.'

Shukin nodded in satisfaction. 'Excellent. We'll destroy the bridge. When will we reach it?'

Toru's face fell as he saw the fault in his suggestion. 'Lord, the bridge is two days away. Arisaka will catch us before we reach it.'

There was a long silence, then Shukin took the map and deliberately rolled it and replaced it in the leather tube that protected it from the elements.

'Then we'll have to buy a little more time along the way,' he said.

The western coast of Nihon-Ja lay before them as the ship rocked gently on a long, glassy swell.

The flat land at the coast quickly gave way to a succession of heavily timbered hills. Behind them, ranges of steep mountains rose high into the air, their peaks already covered in snow and intermittently concealed by cloud driven on the wind.

It was rough-looking country, Will thought, as he leaned on the bulwark beside Halt, studying this new land. After weeks at sea, breathing the freshness of the salt air, he was conscious of a new smell borne to him on the wind: charcoal or woodsmoke, he realised. They must be relatively close to a town or large village, although at the moment none was visible.

'There,' said Halt, reading his thoughts and pointing to a long cape that thrust out into the sea to the north of them. Will peered at it but could see no sign of buildings or people. Then he realised what Halt had been pointing at as he made out signs of smoke haze in the air. Judging by the extent of the smoke, he thought, there must be a sizeable town beyond the cape.

'Is that Iwanai?' he asked Gundar. The skirl went through his usual routine of air sniffing, sail checking and spitting over the side.

'We've come a little south,' he said. He sounded disgruntled and Will smiled to himself. He'd seen enough of Skandian skirls to know they prided themselves on making perfect landfalls – even in places they'd never actually been before. After weeks at sea, using only the stars, instinct, his northseeker needle and a cross staff, Gundar had brought them to within a few kilometres of their destination.

'You've done well, Gundar,' Halt said quietly.

The skirl looked at him and shrugged. 'Could have been better.' He checked the wind tell-tale and leaned on the tiller to bring the bow around to the north-west, setting a course to weather the long cape before them. Wolfwill heeled to port, then began to swoop over the swell.

'What do we do when we reach Iwanai?' Will asked Halt. For so long now, the seaside town in the middle of Nihon-Ja had been their goal. Now they were nearly there, it was time to consider their next course of action.

'According to the message George sent, the man who guided him down from the mountains will be in the town,' Halt said. 'We need to make contact with him. He's loyal to the Emperor and should be able to take us to him.'

'As easy as that?' Will said. 'We just stroll ashore in a strange town in a foreign country and ask, "Has anyone seen George's friend, please?"'

Evanlyn was consulting the message she had received from George so many weeks ago.

'His name is Atsu,' she told them. 'And they should be able to put us in touch with him at a ryokan called the Shokaku.'

'What's a…ryokan? And what's a shokaku?' Will asked and she smiled helplessly.

'I haven't the faintest idea,' she said. She glanced at Alyss for help. The blonde girl had taken a copy of the message when they left Toscana and had been studying it in the past few days, referring to the book of Nihon-Jan words and phrases that Lady Pauline had sent to her.

'A ryokan is an inn,' she told them. 'And shokaku is a crane of some kind.'

'For lifting things?' Will asked.

'For flying. A large bird type of crane,' she corrected him. 'In fact, as near as I can work it out, shokaku means "a flying crane".'

'Seems like a logical thing for a crane to do,' Halt mused. 'I suppose you wouldn't expect it to mean "a hiking crane" or "a waddling crane".' He paused, then studied Alyss carefully for a few seconds. 'Are you sure you'll be able to make yourself understood here?'

Alyss hesitated. 'Pretty sure. It's one thing practising a language with another foreigner, another to hear it spoken by the natives. But I'm fairly sure I'll manage. One thing, though,' she added. 'I think when we go ashore looking for this Atsu person we should keep the numbers down.'

The trace of a smile touched Halt's mouth. 'You're right,' he said. 'After all, we are an exotic bunch, aren't we? I suspect the sight of Selethen, Gundar and Nils walking the streets would draw a lot of attention. We'd be better to keep as low a profile as possible.'

'So it'll just be the four of us?' Evanlyn said and Halt shook his head.

'Three. Alyss because she speaks the language. Will because I want someone to watch my back.'

'But…' Evanlyn began, her cheeks reddening. His unspoken words were all too obvious. There was no useful role she could play in the search for George's former guide. Yet she hated the idea of being left out. Evanlyn had a keen sense of curiosity and always liked to be at the centre of things.

Halt raised an eyebrow at her now. 'But?' he repeated.

'Well, it's not really fair, is it?' Evanlyn protested. 'After all, this is my expedition.' The words sounded weak as she said them.

'Fair has nothing to do with it,' Halt replied. 'But you're right, it is your expedition…'

Before he could continue, Evanlyn seized on his words, thinking he might be showing signs of relenting.

'That's right! If it weren't for me, none of us would be here.'

'Actually, I think credit for getting us here goes to Gundar,' Will interposed, and she glared at him.

Halt stepped in quickly to nip any further discord in the bud. 'As I say, it is your expedition – and I'm sure you'd want to see it carried out in the most efficient way possible. Correct?'

'Well…if you put it that way…of course,' Evanlyn was forced to concede.

'And that means a small party going ashore initially,' Halt said, his tone indicating that this was the end of the discussion. Then his voice softened a little. 'Bear with me on this, Evanlyn. I know you're anxious about Horace.'

Will was a little puzzled by Halt's words. 'No more anxious than the rest of us, surely?' he said.

Halt turned away and raised his eyebrows as his gaze met Selethen's. Sometimes, he thought, his former apprentice could be remarkably slow on the uptake. He saw the Arridi's slow nod of understanding.