'More's the pity.'
Five leagues was over twenty kilometres, Horace estimated. But travelling up and down ridges as they were, and traversing around rearing mountainsides, the distance they covered on the ground could be five or six times as much as that and it would be hard going, all the way.
'We should be there in four days, if all goes well,' Shukin said hopefully. Neither Horace nor Shigeru replied, although Horace couldn't help asking himself the question, why should things start doing that now?
They heard voices raised further back down the column and they all rose and turned to see what was causing the disturbance. Horace saw two young men trotting tiredly up the track, past the rows of resting Kikori, who called questions to them as they came. The two arrivals shook their heads in answer to the questions. Unlike most of the travellers, they were lightly dressed, without heavy robes or cloaks to protect them from the chill air of the mountains. They wore breeches and shirts and stout leather boots, and carried small packs that could have held only the barest minimum of food and water. They were dressed and equipped to travel quickly and Horace felt a cold hand close over his heart as he recognised them as two of the scouts Shukin had sent back.
'This doesn't look good,' he said, noting the serious expressions on the arrivals' faces. Shukin grunted in reply and the three of them moved down the track to meet the scouts.
The young men saw them and redoubled their pace, dropping to one knee and bowing their heads before the Emperor. Gently, Shigeru put them at their ease.
'Please stand, my friends. This muddy track is no place for ceremony.' He looked around and saw several interested bystanders watching them, curious to know what the scouts had discovered. 'Can someone bring food and a hot drink for these men? And warm clothing.'
Several of the bystanders hurried away to do his bidding. The remainder crowded a little closer, eager to hear the report. Shukin glared at them and waved them back.
'Give us room,' he said. 'You'll hear the news soon enough.'
Reluctantly, they backed away, although their eyes remained riveted on the small group. Shukin ushered the two scouts to the spot where he had recently been resting.
'Sit down and rest first,' he said. They sank gratefully to the wet ground, unslinging their packs. One of them began to speak but Shukin held up a hand to stop him.
'Eat and drink first,' he said, as food and hot tea were placed before them. The people who had brought the food stood by, wanting to linger and hear what the scouts had to report. But Shukin's quick glance and a jerk of his head moved them away. Horace realised that his order for the men to eat first was more than simple kindness. He didn't want anyone to overhear what they had to say.
The scouts noisily slurped down their bowls of rich pork broth and noodles. As they ate, Horace saw the strain and weariness fading from their faces.
Shukin waited till they had eaten most of the noodles.
'You found Arisaka?' he said quietly.
Both men nodded. One, his mouth momentarily full of hot broth, looked to his companion to answer.
'His army is barely a day's travel from here,' the scout said and Horace heard Shukin's quick intake of breath. Shigeru, as ever, seemed unmoved by the news, simply accepting it for what it was.
'A day!' Shukin repeated, in a troubled voice. He ran his hands through his hair. Horace recognised the distress in his action. Burdened with the task of keeping his Emperor safe, Shukin could see his enemies drawing ever closer. 'How can they be moving so quickly?'
The first scout had gained his voice now. 'Arisaka is driving them cruelly, my lord,' he said. 'He is determined to take Lord Shigeru.'
'His men won't thank him for it,' Horace said thoughtfully but Shukin made a dismissive gesture.
'His men will accept it. They're used to his lack of regard for their wellbeing.' He looked up at the scouts. 'Where are your two companions?'
'They stayed behind to watch Arisaka,' he was told. 'When he gets within half a day's march, they'll come on to warn us.'
'At the rate he's catching up, that should be some time late tomorrow,' Shukin said thoughtfully. He unrolled the map of the mountains that he and Toru had drawn up and pondered it. Arisaka was a day away from their present position. If they moved out now and kept moving, they would extend the time it would take him to catch them, but even so, he was making ground on them too quickly.
He looked up and nodded his gratitude to the scouts.
'Thank you both. You've done well. Now go and get warm clothing and a little rest. We'll be moving out shortly.'
They bowed and turned to go, but he called them back.
'Ask Toru to come here, would you?' he said. They nodded and trotted away. Horace and Shigeru said nothing as Shukin studied the rough chart, tapping his fingers on his chin as he did so. A few minutes later, Toru arrived.
'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.