'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.
'These men are your comrades. These are your brothers. These are the men you fight with. These are the men you trust to stand beside you. These are the men who trust you to stand firm beside them! Be worthy of their trust!'
Again, a deep-throated rumble of agreement ran through the ranks of armed men. Will felt he had said enough. He had no time for lengthy, florid speeches from commanders on the eve of battle. They were usually made to please the commander's sense of self-importance. He had just one more thing he wanted to remind them of.
'Kikori soldiers!' he shouted. 'How do we fight?'
The reply came in a roar from the ranks.
'Issho ni!' they told him. 'Together!'
'How do we fight?' he asked, louder still, and the roar came back louder as well.
'Issho ni!'
'How?' he asked them one more time, and this time the valley echoed to their reply.
'Issho ni!'
On an impulse, he drew his saxe and brandished it high above his head. The two goju responded, holding their javelins high, then pounding them back to the frozen ground with a resounding crash of wood and metal.
Behind him, a deep, penetrating voice called a single word.
'Chocho!'
The one hundred troops in front of him responded instantly, echoing the cry and turning it into a chant.
'Chocho! Chocho! Chocho!'
Puzzled, and a little taken aback, Will turned to see that Shigeru had approached while he had been speaking. The Emperor was dressed in full armour, but no helmet. His two katana were thrust through his belt, their long hilts protruding before him like the crossed horns of a dangerous animal. Shigeru continued to lead the chant, dropping his hand on Will's shoulder.
'Chocho! Chocho! Chocho!' the men roared and, vaguely, Will realised that this somehow applied to him. Then Shigeru held up his hand for silence and the roaring voices gradually died down. Will disengaged himself and stepped back deferentially, sensing that Shigeru wanted to address his troops.
Horace was grinning hugely as Will joined him.