John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

'Don't stop, Or'ss-san!' It was Reito, shouting to him from the far side of the gorge. 'Keep moving!'

Galvanised into action, he plunged forward, careless now that his motion might set the bridge moving and swinging. He gripped the rope side rails fiercely, almost running to clear the bridge. He could see half a dozen Kikori standing where the handlines and cables that supported the bridge were anchored, axes ready. Behind him, he heard more shouting as Arisaka's men grew closer.

'Get a rope ready!' he yelled. 'A long rope!'

He lurched onto solid ground and turned to see the first of Arisaka's men stepping carefully onto the bridge. They hesitated at the wild movement. Unlike the Kikori, they weren't born and bred in this mountain territory. But they began to advance, slowly.

The Kikori's axes thudded against the cables supporting the bridge. But the thick rope was braided together and heavily tarred, and the tar had hardened to an almost rock-like consistency over the years. It was going to be a close thing whether Arisaka's men would make it across before the axemen could sever all four cables.

Horace saw one of the Kikori standing by with a length of rope and beckoned him forward.

'Round my waist! Quickly!'

The man realised what he wanted and stepped forward, fastening a loop of the rope around Horace's waist, knotting it securely behind him.

'Now pay it out as I go!' Horace said. He shrugged his shield around, ran his arm through the support straps, and drew his sword. Then he took a deep breath and stepped out onto the bridge again. The Kikori who had tied the rope now paid it out slowly, keeping a little slack between them so that Horace's movement wasn't impeded. He called for help and three of his companions ran to assist him.

This time, Horace moved with a purpose in mind. Any nervousness he might have felt was overborne by the necessity to hold back the advancing Senshi coming to meet him. Horace knew the real danger on such an unsteady platform would come if he let himself tense up. He had to relax and ride the motion of the bridge. He was a superbly co-ordinated athlete and now he hit upon the way to relax the tension in his muscles.

'Think you're on horseback,' he told himself, and instantly, he found he could attune himself to the swirling, plunging movement of the bridge. He advanced five metres and waited. The first of the Senshi stopped a few metres short of him, looking uncertainly at the tall figure who rode the bridge, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet. The Senshi had no such sense of ease. He was tense and nervous, out of his comfort zone. But he came on, swinging a clumsy overhead stroke at Horace.

Horace took the blow with his shield slanted, deflecting it rather than blocking it. As a consequence, his attacker felt no resistance to his blow and stumbled forward, off balance. As he tried to recover, Horace made a quick, darting lunge and took him in the left thigh, through the gap in his armour there.

With a hoarse cry of pain, the warrior dropped his sword as his left leg collapsed under him, sending him lurching into the thin web of side ropes. Horrified as he realised he was about to plunge through and fall to his death, he scrabbled for a handhold. The man behind him was impeded by the awkwardly sprawled, struggling body. As he attempted to step past, Horace advanced suddenly, shuffling quickly forward. The Senshi swung an awkward cut at him but once again the shield stopped the blow. The blade bit into the rim and stuck there for a second. As the Senshi jerked it free, Horace's return side cut hit him in the side.

The Nihon-Jan swords were sharper and harder than Horace's blade. But his sword was longer and heavier and it crumpled the lacquered leather body armour the Senshi wore, crushing the ribs behind it. The man gasped in pain, lurched against the side rail and lost his balance, toppling over to fall into the massive gorge below them.

The next man hesitated as both he and Horace felt a violent tremor run through the bridge and the left side rail sagged downwards. They faced each other, each waiting for the other to make a move. But Horace knew time was on his side now.

On the brink of the gorge, Shigeru spoke quickly to the men holding Horace's lifeline.

'Take a turn round that tree stump there!' he ordered them. 'When Kurokuma falls, slow him down before the rope runs out!'

They grasped his meaning instantly and ran the rope around the stump – which was thick as a man's waist. The axemen were working faster and faster now and the bridge trembled with each blow. Shigeru saw the enemy soldier closest to the far side turn and begin to run back, yelling a warning. His companions followed but they were too late. The bridge suddenly fell clear, spilling Horace and the four remaining Senshi into the drop.

'Let the rope out!' Shigeru ordered. He knew if the rope simply snapped tight, Horace would swing against the cliff face with brutal force. But as the rope came tight, the Kikori let it run, using the loop belayed around the stump to slow it and allowing Horace to drop clear into the gorge, below the overhang where the bridge had been set.

Horace felt the bridge go, felt himself drop into space and his stomach rise into his throat. He waited for the sudden snap of the rope jamming tight, then realised what was happening. The rope was tight but yielding. There was no sudden stop so he let himself go limp and tried to turn to face the cliff face, so he could break the impact with his arms and legs.

The overhang, and the belayed rope, saved him. If the cliff had been sheer, he would have swung into it like a pendulum, at the bottom of its arc, moving too fast to prevent himself being injured. But as he began to swing inwards, he was also still moving vertically, and his momentum was being gradually reduced. He hit the rock wall twenty metres down, with enough force to crack a rib or two and jolt the breath out of his body. He cursed as the impact shocked the sword from his hand and it spun away into the giddy drop below. Then he felt the rope tightening under his armpits as the Kikori began to draw him upwards.

As he drew closer to the rim of the gorge, he could see Shigeru's anxious face among those peering down at him. He used his legs to fend himself off from the overhang as he reached it and was eventually hauled over the edge, sprawling on the muddy ground. He must look like a landed fish, he thought.

Shigeru seized his arm, then instantly released him as Horace's injured ribs flared with pain and he cried out.

'Are you all right, Or'ss-san?' Shigeru asked.

Horace felt his sore ribs under the mail shirt and grimaced.

'No. I've cracked my ribs. And I lost my sword, damn it,' he said.

In contrast to the noisy taverns and restaurants they had passed so far, the interior of the ryokan was an oasis of calm and quiet.

Halt, Will and Alyss found themselves in a large entry room, walls and floor finished in polished timber. The sweet smell of beeswax hung in the air, evidence of constant polishing. It was overlaid by a mixture of incense and scented woodsmoke, the latter from a fireplace set against one side wall, where a log fire sent a warm glow through the room. This subdued lighting was augmented by several hanging lanterns, each consisting of a candle burning inside a paper globe. Opposite the fireplace, and set in symmetry to it, a small raised pond sent reflections of light ribboning across the walls.

The decor of the room was sparse but elegant. A large table faced them, with two beautifully lacquered boxes, one at either end, and a heavy journal in the centre. Writing implements were arranged neatly beside the journal. Behind it was a framed wall painting – not a picture, but a large Nihon-Jan ideogram. To the left, a timber staircase ascended to the next level, and a wooden railed gallery ran round four sides of the open space above them. Halt, glancing round, assumed that access to the guest rooms led off from this gallery.