John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

'He said, judging by the way we smell, we need a bath,' Alyss replied. Will raised an eyebrow at the insult but Halt uttered a short laugh.

'If it wasn't so true, I might be insulted,' he said. He turned to the innkeeper.

'Perhaps we might use the baths first, then eat?' he suggested.

The innkeeper nodded. 'I'll show you the way,' he said. 'And while you're relaxing, I'll send a messenger to see if Atsu is still in Iwanai. He comes and goes.'

Before she left the others to go to the women's bath area, Alyss gave them careful instructions. The hot baths themselves were not for washing. They were for soaking and relaxing. Accordingly, they washed and rinsed off in an annex, scooping hot water from tubs and pouring it over themselves, and then plunged into the near-scalding water of the bath. At first, it was agony, but Will gradually became accustomed to the heat and felt it soothing the aches and pains of several weeks standing braced on a heaving, uncertain deck and sleeping on hard planks. Reluctantly, he finally emerged, dried himself and wrapped himself in a soft robe the ryokan provided.

Alyss was waiting for them when he and Halt returned to their room.

In the centre of the room, a low table, barely thirty centimetres from the floor, had been placed in position. It was laden with bowls and plates and small, candle-fired food warmers.

Will looked around hopefully for a chair but, in keeping with the minimalist decor of the ryokan, there were none available. Alyss sat, resting on her heels, her legs folded under her at the table.

Halt groaned softly. 'I was afraid of this,' he said. 'I suppose we have to sleep on the floor too.'

He'd noticed earlier that there were no beds in the room. When he'd enquired, the innkeeper had shown them thick mattresses stored behind one of the sliding screens that masked a closet.

Will grinned at him as he helped himself to a skewer of grilled chicken, covered in a delicious, salty, dark sauce.

'You've been sleeping on the ground for years when we camp,' he said. 'When did you become so fussy?'

'When we camp,' Halt replied, 'we are out in the open. I accept that I have to sleep on the ground when I am in a forest or a meadow. But this is a room and this a floor. When I am indoors, I prefer to sleep in a bed.' He removed the lid from a polished wood bowl and eyed the steaming broth inside. Looking round, he could see no sign of a spoon, so he drank directly from the bowl. 'This is actually very good,' he said.

Alyss was helping herself to another dish – a broth of noodles heavily laced with shredded pork. She looked puzzled at the two wooden sticks that seemed to be the only implements, then held the bowl close to her mouth and shovelled some of the noodles and pork in with the sticks, slurping in a highly unladylike fashion.

'You know, I rather hope Atsu doesn't show up in too much of a hurry. I could take a few more days of this,' she said.

Halt shifted position for the third time in thirty seconds, easing the strain in his thighs by sitting sidelong on one buttock.

'Tell that to my poor old aching knees,' he said.

In spite of Halt's earlier grumbling, the beds – essentially no more than thick mattresses spread out on the floor – were quite comfortable.

After they had doused the small lantern that lit their room, Will lay on his back, listening to Halt's deep, regular breathing. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he could discern a pale crack of light that showed at the edge of the sliding door leading to the gallery outside, although the innkeeper had dimmed the gallery lanterns some hours previously.

The sliding, paper-paned window panel was open and a chill breeze entered the room. Will pulled the down-filled bedcover higher around his ears. The innkeeper had offered them a small charcoal brazier to warm the room but they had declined. Both Rangers preferred fresh air.

Not for the first time, he found himself marvelling at the amazing turns his life had taken in recent years. He knew that some people he had grown up with had never strayed more than a kilometre or two from Castle Redmont and others had never gone outside the boundaries of Redmont Fief. Even his wardmate Jenny, who was now a famous chef, had barely gone further afield.

Yet here he was, on the far side of the world, having travelled through an amazing channel in the desert, cut by unknown, ancient hands, on an ingenious ship designed to sail against the wind. Before this, he had crossed the heaving, tossing Stormwhite Sea and seen the barren crags of Skorghijl, then travelled on to the snow-covered mountains of Skandia, where he had faced the fierce riders from the Eastern Steppes.

More recently, he had crossed the burning deserts of Arrida and made firm friends among the nomads of the Bedullin tribe. He had faced the wild Scotti tribesmen in the north. Then, with Halt and Horace, he had travelled the length of Clonmel, one of the six kingdoms of Hibernia.

Sometimes, when he thought about how much he had seen and done in his young life, his head swam. And at those times, he thought about his childhood ambition of becoming a knight. How circumscribed his life would have been in contrast to this amazing existence! He knew that most of the knights who had trained in the Redmont Battleschool with Horace had never left Araluen's frontiers.

He wondered if Halt, who had seen all these things and more, ever felt the same sense of wonder and excitement about his life. Without thinking, he spoke.

'Halt? Are you awake?'

'No.' The ill humour in the one-word reply was unmistakable.

'Oh. Sorry.'

'Shut up.'

He pondered whether to apologise again, decided this would go against the instruction to shut up so remained silent. He glanced at the open window. The light of a half moon was beginning to creep through it. The same moon would be shining now on Horace, somewhere in the mountains, he guessed. Then he yawned hugely and, shortly after, in spite of his sense of wonder, he fell asleep.

He'd barely been asleep a few minutes when Halt's voice woke him.

'Will? Are you asleep?'

His eyes shot open, instantly alert. Then he realised there had been no sense of alarm or warning in Halt's words and his tensed muscles relaxed.

'I was,' he said, a little indignantly. 'I'm not now.'

'Good,' Halt replied, a trifle smugly. 'Serves you right.'

And the bearded Ranger rolled onto his other side, gathered the bedclothes under his chin and dozed off.

A sound.

Slight, barely audible. But outside the normal pattern of night sounds that Will's subconscious had studied, filed away and learned to ignore. His eyes were open again and he listened carefully. The moon no longer shone through the open window. He must have been asleep for some hours, he thought.

Halt's breathing remained deep and even but Will knew that his teacher would be wide awake too. Rangers trained to maintain their breathing pattern even when awakened unexpectedly, so that a prospective attacker would have no warning that his quarry was awake and ready for him.

Another sound. The light, creaking noise of wood moving, ever so slightly, against wood. It was the sound of a careful tread on the stairs, he realised. So the intruder, if it was an intruder and not one of the ryokan staff, was not in their room. Moving slowly and with infinite care to make no noise, he raised himself on one elbow and laid the bedcover back. Across the room, he saw the dim shadow of Halt doing the same thing. Halt raised a warning hand, signalling him not to make any further movement. Lying low to the floor like this, it would be difficult to rise without making any noise. The general construction of the ryokan's interior was exceedingly light – with interjoining panels of wood and oiled paper and more panels of woven reed matting covering the wooden floors. Movable panels like that would almost certainly have free play in them and would make noise – just as the stairs were doing. They heard another two slight squeaks from the stairway as if in confirmation. Will glanced down to make sure his saxe knife and throwing knife were next to the mattress, in easy reach.