Read Ranger's Apprentice 10: The Emperor of Nihon-Ja Online
Authors: John Flanagan
Caught between hammer and anvil, there was little hope for the Senshi. Confused, bewildered, facing a new enemy and a totally unfamiliar form of fighting, they turned and ran, for the second time that day. They ran past their own camp, heading in panic for the distant encampment where Arisaka’s main army were still unaware of what had just happened.
Only now there were pitifully few of them running. The vast majority remained on the battlefield, unmoving.
With one exception. A stocky figure remained, clad in ornate and expensive leather armour – armour that bore the symbol of a green ox.
Maddened with rage and shame, Todoki had emerged from behind the screen of warriors who had surrounded him. Alone now, he advanced on the silent ranks of Kikori. He could see a tall figure among them and he remembered stories of the
gaijin
warrior who had befriended Shigeru. He stood now and screamed abuse and insults at the figure, who slowly stepped forward from the ranks of his
goju
.
Horace’s grasp of Nihon-Jan wasn’t sufficiently advanced to understand the insults that Todoki’s tortured rage was conjuring up but the meaning was obvious.
‘That doesn’t sound good,’ he said quietly to himself as a stream of imprecations was hurled at him.
‘Horace!’ Will called from his vantage point, but Horace half turned and made a placating gesture in his direction.
‘It’s all right, Will. I’m tired of this person.’
His sword hissed out of its scabbard and he turned back to face Todoki. With a scream of rage and hate, the enemy general charged towards him.
Todoki had seen the long, straight
gaijin
sword. He knew something about those foreign weapons. They were made from inferior steel and he knew that his own
katana
, forged by one of the finest swordsmiths in Nihon-Ja, would slice through the foreign weapon if he struck hard enough.
Disdaining the grace and balance that went into a normal cutting stroke, he opted for brute strength and put every ounce of his power and weight behind his blow. With a huge cry, he smashed his blade into the foreigner’s.
There was a shrieking clang as the two blades met. Todoki’s eyes widened in horror as he realised that the
gaijin
’s sword was undamaged. It had withstood his stroke. Off balance from the excessive effort he had put into it, he staggered slightly and his guard dropped.
Horace lunged, stamping his right foot forward then driving with his shoulder and suddenly straightened arm to give maximum impetus to the thrust. He aimed for the gap at the top of Todoki’s hardened breastplate, where only a screen of softer leather protected the warrior’s throat.
He hit his mark, and the Nihon-Jan forged blade sliced easily through the thin barrier.
Todoki’s eyes, startled, still unable to understand what had happened to him this day, stared at Horace for a second from above the half-buried sword blade.
Then they clouded and all sign of life left them as the rebel general sagged to the rocky ground at his feet. Horace freed his sword and turned away, finding himself facing the men of the two
gojus
. The Kikori warriors – for now they truly were warriors – raised their short swords in the air to acclaim him. One voice began the chant, and within seconds, a hundred of them were echoing it.
‘Kurokuma! Kurokuma! Kurokuma!’
Horace waved tiredly to acknowledge them. Selethen stepped forward to greet him, smiling broadly. They embraced, then, surrounded by their cheering, chanting Kikori troops, they walked together to where Will, Halt and Shigeru waited.
‘I’d still like to know how he got that name,’ Will said.
Shigeru turned to him. For once, when he was discussing Horace’s nickname, his face bore no trace of amusement.
‘However he got it,’ he said, ‘it truly is a term of great respect.’
Alyss finished lashing the last branch into position and inspected the rough platform she had constructed in the fork of the tree.
‘That should do it,’ she said. The platform of sturdy branches was approximately two metres by two metres, giving ample room for Alyss and Evanlyn to sit and await the mysterious predator that lurked in Uto Forest.
They were deep in the forest, at a site where four of the Hasanu had been taken by the predator – known to the Hasanu people as
Kyofu
, or the Terror.
Evanlyn, on the ground four metres below, looked around nervously. The sun was setting and it would soon be dark – and the Terror was known to hunt at night. It was one thing to sit in Nimatsu’s castle and be critical of the Hasanu’s superstitious fears, quite another to stand here in the snow, with the shadows lengthening and the gloomy forest surrounding them. While it had still been full daylight, Evanlyn had gone about the task of collecting branches for the platform without a qualm. But her last foray, which took her further from the site they had selected, had been in the lengthening shadows of early evening and she had found herself glancing fearfully over her shoulder as she worked, her nerves jumping at the slightest of forest sounds.
‘Drop me the rope,’ she called. ‘I’m coming up.’
‘Just a moment.’ Alyss stood slowly and moved to the centre of the platform. Stepping with extreme care, she tested its strength, making sure the lashed branches were strong enough to bear her weight. Eventually satisfied, she moved to the edge and kicked the coil of knotted rope off the platform, sending it down through the branches to the waiting princess. Evanlyn clambered up the rope hand over hand, moving with slightly undignified haste. Once she was settled high in the fork of the tree, she pulled the rope up and coiled it again, then found a spot to make herself comfortable – although ‘comfortable’, on this rough platform, was a relative term.
Alyss grinned at her. ‘Worried the Terror might climb up after you?’
Evanlyn regarded her coldly and didn’t answer. That was exactly what she was worried about.
Darkness stole through the forest and the two girls sat, cold and uncomfortable, on the platform. The only sound they heard was the snuffling and complaining of the young pig they had tied to a nearby tree. The pig was bait, designed to bring the Terror out of hiding. Once that happened, Alyss hoped to kill the Terror, whatever it was, with the two lightweight spears that lay beside her. She had borrowed them from the Hasanu. It had taken her a while to find weapons light enough for her to handle, but eventually she settled on practice weapons, designed for children. She was a competent hand with the javelin and, of course, Evanlyn had her sling and a supply of heavy, egg-shaped lead shot.
‘Bit hard on the pig,’ Evanlyn said quietly.
‘You can change places with it any time you like,’ Alyss told her.
‘What do you think it is – the Terror, I mean?’
‘Some large predator, as Nimatsu suggested. A bear, perhaps. There are bears in this area. And he did say there’s evidence that there were snow tigers here many years ago. Maybe it’s one of them.’
‘It’s never been seen or heard. That doesn’t sound like any bear I’ve ever known,’ Evanlyn remarked.
Alyss looked at her sidelong. ‘Known many bears?’
Evanlyn had to grin.
‘Anyway, one thing I’m sure of,’ Alyss continued, ‘is that it’s not a demon from another world. Now be quiet.’
She gestured for Evanlyn to get some rest while she stood guard. Evanlyn lay down on the uneven, knobbly branches and squirmed around to find the most comfortable spot. She closed her eyes but it took a while for sleep to claim her. Her nerves were tensed to a fine pitch as she listened to the soughing of the light breeze through the trees, the soft flutter of a night-flying bird’s wing and the dozen or so unidentifiable sounds of nocturnal animals or insects that drifted among the trees.
She seemed to have been dozing for only a few minutes when Alyss’s hand on her arm woke her.
‘Anything stirring?’ she whispered.
Alyss shook her head and replied in the same lowered tone. ‘Nothing. The pig was awake about twenty minutes ago but he went back to sleep.’
They both peered down through the branches, across the clearing to where the pig was tethered. The little animal lay sleeping beside the tree.
‘Seems peaceful enough now,’ Evanlyn said. ‘Maybe he was having a pigmare.’ She shuffled towards the edge of the platform, picking up the coiled rope. Alyss caught her by the arm. Even though she still spoke in a whisper, Evanlyn could hear the urgency in her tone.
‘What d’you think you’re up to?’
Evanlyn blushed, although in the dim light Alyss was unaware of the fact.
‘Call of nature,’ she said. ‘I drank too much from my water bottle when we ate. The pickles made me thirsty.’ She grinned sheepishly.
Firmly, Alyss took the coiled rope from her grasp and placed it away from the edge of the platform.
‘Put up with it,’ she said. ‘Neither of us is going down that rope before daylight.’
‘Alyss, be reasonable. If the Terror was anywhere in the area, that pig would be squealing and snuffling in terror. I’m sure it’s perfectly safe. We haven’t heard anything in hours.’
‘Neither did the seventeen Hasanu that this creature killed. Three of them were taken from the middle of a camp where others were sleeping, remember? Evanlyn, the only place that’s safe is this platform. And I’m not even totally sure about that.’
Evanlyn hesitated. Nimatsu had told them some hair-raising stories about the Terror, that was true. As Alyss pointed out, some of its victims had been taken while surrounded by dozens of sleeping comrades – none of whom ever heard a sound.
‘Well…all right,’ she said, feigning a reluctance she no longer felt. The idea that the Terror might be somewhere close to them, creeping towards the tree where they perched, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. But she wasn’t about to admit that to Alyss. ‘You go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.’
Alyss eyed her carefully. ‘Don’t go sneaking off once I’m asleep,’ she warned.
Evanlyn shook her head. ‘I won’t.’
Alyss lay down, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. She seemed to fall asleep much sooner than Evanlyn had managed. Within a few minutes her breathing was deep and regular, punctuated by occasional soft snorts of complaint as she shifted to ease the discomfort of a badly trimmed knot on the branches below her.
Evanlyn sat, bored and cramped, as the moon arced up and over them, eventually descending and leaving the forest black and silent once more. The bird and animal noises had died away. There was only the wind now. Once, just before dawn, it seemed to gust more strongly than before and Evanlyn sat up a little straighter, peering around nervously. But then she realised it had only been a stray gust and she sank back into her bleary-eyed vigil. She yawned mightily. Her eyelids drooped and she jerked upright, realising that her head had dropped to one side and, for a few seconds, she had been asleep. She shook her head to clear it, breathing deeply, then surveyed the dimly lit ground beneath her. The dark form of the pig was still visible in the snow. There was nothing else to be seen.
Shuffling to the edge of the platform, she peered straight down. But she could see nothing there, either.
She yawned again. There was a thin layer of snow on the branches around her. She scooped some up and rubbed the freezing wetness across her face and eyes. For a few minutes, she was refreshed and alert. Then her eyelids and head sagged again. She forced them open, yawned again and wished she hadn’t drunk all that water the night before.
She had never in her life been so grateful to see the dawn. The first grey light stole through the trees and she realised that she could make out details now, instead of just seeing vague outlines. Then she began to make out a red glow from the east, faintly visible through the trunks and upper branches.
Then, without her noticing the exact moment when it happened, a steel grey daylight stole over the forest and the clearing above which they sat. Funny, she thought, how daylight made things seem less threatening.
Alyss stirred, then rolled over and sat up, rubbing her eyes.
‘Anything happen?’ she asked, although she knew that if it had, Evanlyn would have woken her.
‘Nothing. We seemed to have picked the most boring stretch of forest possible. There was nothing but the insects and the birds and even they became bored after a while and went to sleep. I think we’re going to have to –’
Evanlyn stopped. Alyss’s hand was gripping her forearm tightly – so tightly that it was hurting.
‘Look,’ the Courier said. ‘Look at the pig.’
Evanlyn followed her gaze and felt her blood freeze. The snow around the little animal was stained red. Alyss grabbed the climbing rope and moved to the edge of the platform, preparing to let it drop to the forest floor below them. But she stopped, then hurriedly moved away from the edge.
‘Look down there,’ she said in a barely audible voice. ‘Don’t stand up!’ she cautioned. ‘You might fall!’
On hands and knees, Evanlyn moved to the edge of the platform and looked down through the lower branches to the ground below. The snow around the base of their tree was patterned with multiple tracks, where a large animal had circled the trunk repeatedly. Off to one side was an indentation in the snow, where that same animal had lain, waiting for them, watching them.
‘You heard nothing?’ Alyss asked and Evanlyn, her eyes wide with horror, shook her head.
‘Not a thing,’ she said, then remembered, ‘Once, just before the dawn, I thought the wind seemed to gust a little louder. But that was all.’ She indicated the carcass of the pig. ‘I never heard that happen! And I swear I was awake all night.’
She trembled with fear as she recalled how she had wanted to climb down from the platform during the night.
‘My god!’ she said softly. ‘I wanted to climb down! It could have been waiting then!’
Alyss nodded. Her stomach was tight with fear as well. They had no way of knowing how long the huge creature – whatever it was – had been lying watching them from the base of the tree.
Eventually, gathering their courage, they climbed down from their perch and studied the tracks in the snow.
‘It looks like some kind of giant cat,’ Evanlyn said. She couldn’t stop glancing back over her shoulder as she studied the paw marks. Alyss had moved to look at the depression where the creature had lain in the snow.
‘It must be at least four metres in length,’ she mused. ‘I wish Will was here. He’d make more sense out of these tracks.’
‘I wish he was here too,’ Evanlyn said. But she was thinking more about the reassurance that Will’s powerful longbow and grey-shafted arrows could provide. Alyss glanced quickly at her, then, as she understood Evanlyn’s meaning, the suspicious frown on her face cleared. She rose and moved across to where the pig lay, stiff and cold now. Evanlyn followed her nervously, her hand on the hilt of the sword she wore. Alyss prodded the pig with the haft of one of her spears. It seemed to have been killed by one raking sweep of giant claws across its throat.
‘The Terror killed it. But it didn’t try to eat it,’ she muttered. ‘Or take the carcass with it.’
Evanlyn glanced at her fearfully. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked, although she thought she knew the answer.
‘The Terror didn’t want the pig raising the alarm. Aside from that, it wasn’t interested in the pig. It was stalking us.’