John Flanagan - The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

Alyss rose, took her sword, a water canteen and some strips of smoked rabbit that Evanlyn had killed with her sling the day before, and made her way to the boat. Evanlyn followed. They took Evanlyn's paddle out – Alyss wouldn't be needing it – and she waded into the water, lifting the kayak and sliding it with her. As soon as it could float, Alyss slid gracefully into her seat and took a few smooth strokes, setting the little boat gliding across the calm water. She glanced back over her shoulder to Evanlyn, standing by the water's edge.

'Take care,' she called.

Evanlyn waved in reply. 'Of course,' she said easily.

Walking up the shallow beach, she found a fallen log close to the treeline that gave her a comfortable spot to sit and wait. She took a seat, then produced the packet of candied fruit and spread half a dozen pieces on the log beside her.

She took a piece and placed it in her mouth, feeling the juices begin to run as the combination of tartness and sweetness took effect on her taste buds. She gave an exaggerated sigh of pleasure, smacking her lips several times to indicate how much she was enjoying the treat.

And waited.

It seemed an age, although in reality it was only two or three minutes, but her straining senses caught the slightest sound – a rustle in the ferns behind her and to her left. Senses as taut as a fiddle string, she strained to hear more.

Was that another slight rustle? It sounded a little closer than the first. Or was it the wind? She looked to her right, examining the ferns there closely. They weren't moving. No, there was no wind, she thought.

There it was again! The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she could feel gooseflesh forming on her forearms. Something was there. Something was behind her, and moving closer to her. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to stand and turn and see what it was. This waiting, knowing something was there – no, thinking something was there – was all but intolerable.

But somehow, she stood it. She swallowed the piece of fruit, forcing it down a throat that had suddenly turned dry.

'Mmmm,' she said appreciatively. 'That was good!'

She popped another piece into her mouth, made another exclamation of enjoyment, then, seemingly as an afterthought, she took a piece and placed it half a metre or so away from its companions, then gestured to it.

'This is for you,' she said, then repeated a little louder, 'For you.'

There was definitely something behind her. She knew it now without any doubt. Something large was less than two metres away. She didn't know how she knew it was large. She hadn't heard any heavy footfall, nothing more than the slightest rustle of leaves and twigs. But there was a large presence there, as if the very life force of whatever it was had impinged upon her senses.

She realised she was holding her breath. Her heart was hammering inside her rib cage – so loud she was sure that whatever it was behind her could hear it.

She began to sing – one of the gentle country songs that she'd heard Will singing as he accompanied himself on the mandola.

'Oh, Annalie dancing.

A shaft of light fell on her as I saw

Annalie dancing and haven't I seen Annalie, somewhere before?'

Her voice quavered with tension. She warbled on and off the notes as she tried to sing them truly.

I sound terrified, she thought. Although maybe this…whatever it is…will just think I'm a lousy singer.

She drew breath for the next verse but it never came. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement.

A large hand, with long, claw-like nails and covered in thick red-brown hair, reached from behind her and took the candied apricot from the log.

The men selected for the attack hyaku were paraded on the exercise ground in two groups of fifty. Formed up in three extended ranks, the Kikori looked impressive. The weak sunlight shone off the gleaming points of their javelins, and caught the iron bindings and reinforcing strips on their man-high shields and leather helmets. The lines of their formation were ruler-straight as they stood before Will, Horace, Halt and Selethen. Horace and Selethen would command a group of fifty each – or a goju, as they had called the formation. Will and Halt would stand back and stay in overall command – although Halt had ceded this responsibility to the younger Ranger.

'They're your men,' he said. 'You trained them and men deserve to be led by the leader they know and trust.'

Will nodded nervously. He knew Halt was right. All the same, he was glad the experienced grey-bearded Ranger would be on hand if needed. He looked to where Horace was watching him, and nodded. The young warrior drew in a breath, then called out an order in a ringing parade ground voice.

'Hyaku!'

The men had been standing at parade rest, their feet apart and their javelins, shafts resting on the ground, extended forward at arm's length. At the warning command, their feet stamped together and the javelins came to the vertical position.

'Open order!' Horace called. The front rank took two long paces forward. The rear rank took two back. The three ranks were now separated by a two-metre gap, leaving room for their commanders to move through and inspect them.

This was Horace and Selethen's job. They selected a goju each and moved quickly along the lines, checking equipment, making sure each man had his three short stabbing spears in a quiver-like arrangement at his right hip, checking shields for any sign of looseness or fraying in the straps, glancing at javelin heads to see that they were firmly attached and gleaming from a recent sharpening.

'Looks good,' Halt said quietly.

Horace and Selethen were more than halfway through their inspection and so far, neither had stopped to reprimand any of the troops for missing or faulty equipment. Obviously, the turnout was near perfect. Horace did stop once and straighten a soldier's leather helmet, tugging the chin strap a little tighter to secure it more firmly, but that was all.

The Kikori had risen to the challenge splendidly and Will felt a warm sense of pride in them. Not so long ago, they had been simple timber workers. Now they were soldiers, with a soldier's pride in their own ability and in their own unit.

'Troops inspected and ready,' Horace reported.

Will nodded. 'Close them up and stand them at rest, Horace.'

The tall warrior gave the orders and the front and rear ranks closed back in to their original positions. One hundred feet stamped apart and one hundred javelin heads thrust forward as one.

Will stepped forward, moving closer to the ranks so that they would hear him more clearly. He studied the faces under the leather and iron helmets. The men were grim and determined. But there was a look of subdued excitement in many of the eyes looking back at him. No apprehension or fear, he was glad to see.

'Goju Kuma! Goju Taka!' he said, and now every eye was on him. They had named the two goju for the two leaders. Goju Kuma was the Bear fifty, led by Horace, who was now known to everyone as Kurokuma. Goju Taka reflected the nickname that had been given to Selethen. Taka meant hawk, and Will assumed the name derived from Selethen's prominent nose, which had some similarity to the curved beak of a bird of prey.

'Tomorrow is the time to put all your hard work into practice,' he continued. 'Tomorrow is the day when you will strike the Emperor's first blow at the traitor Arisaka!'

There was a growl of anger through the ranks as he said the name of the hated rebel leader.

'Remember your training. Remember what we have practised. If you do this, you will achieve a great victory for your Emperor. But you must remember your training. Look around you. Look at the men beside you and behind you! Study their faces.'

He paused while one hundred heads turned, while eyes made contact and heads nodded in recognition. When they had settled again, he continued.