'That's something I cannot allow,' Shigeru said.
Arisaka laughed, a shrill sound that showed how close he was to snapping.
'And how will you stop it?' he demanded.
'I will stand down,' Shigeru said simply.
Arisaka recoiled in surprise, and exclamations of amazement went through the crowd.
'I will abdicate if that is the only way to stop this madness. Appoint another Emperor,' Shigeru continued. 'Lord Yamada, and Lord Nimatsu, I look to you to ensure that a proper choice is made. But I will not stand and watch thousands of Nihon-Jan, my people, lose their lives to preserve my pride. I will stand down.'
'You're bluffing, Shigeru!' Arisaka said. 'You won't give up the throne.'
'I swear that I will, if that will prevent thousands dying here today.' Shigeru let his gaze run round the faces of Arisaka's men as they watched this clash of personalities. 'I swear on my honour, before all of you here.'
Silence greeted his words as those watching realised that he was in earnest. Then Yamada's men began to mutter among themselves. They had come here under a false belief. They realised now that Arisaka had lied to their commander to make them break their oath to the rightful Emperor. If Arisaka ordered them to fight, their commander would refuse. And so would they. Now Arisaka could depend only on his own men.
Matsuda Sato was a low-ranked officer in Arisaka's army. He commanded a small group of twelve men and had led them in the service of his lord for seventeen years. In all that time, he had received scant recognition for his service or his loyalty. He had watched Arisaka brutalise his men, driving them mercilessly and punishing them severely if he believed they had failed him. Arisaka never rewarded good service, only punished that which he deemed to be bad. Sato, knowing no alternative, had always assumed this was the sign of a strong leader. Now he realised he was witnessing real strength – a man who would forsake the highest position in the land to save the lives of his subjects. This was leadership, Sato realised. This was a man to follow. Arisaka was exposed as a deceiver and an oathbreaker. Sato slid his katana, still in its scabbard, from inside his belt and dropped it to the ground in a sign of peace.
'Shigeru!' he shouted, raising his clenched fist above his head. The men around him looked at him in surprise. Then one of them copied his actions and joined him. Then another. Then two more. Then a dozen.
'Shigeru!'
The cry began to spread throughout Arisaka's men. The rattle of swords hitting the ground became continuous, like some monster hailstorm, and the voices swelled, another dozen, then fifty, then a hundred, then more.
'Shigeru! Shigeru! Shigeru!'
Then the Kikori joined in, letting their shields and javelins fall to the ground and adding their voices to the swelling roar of acclamation. And finally, the deep-throated Hasanu as well, till the mountains around them rang with the name.
'Shigeru! Shigeru! Shigeru!'
Wild-eyed, furious, goaded beyond reason, Arisaka swung his gaze around his followers. The chanting was now deafening and the sight of his own men cheering the Emperor was too much. His sword flashed and the man nearest him fell with a cry.
Matsuda Sato, commander of twelve men, looked up at his former lord, puzzled and wondering why he was seeing him only through a red haze. He felt numb where Arisaka's sword had opened the massive wound in his chest. Then the red changed slowly to black.
A horrified silence spread over the plain as men realised what Arisaka had done. He stepped forward and turned to face his troops, hurling abuse at them as they instinctively stepped back, away from him.
'You have betrayed me!' he screamed. 'You have shamed me! You defile my honour!'
'You have no honour!'
He spun round, the bloodstained katana still in his hand. The speaker, whose words had carried clearly to the men around him, was one of the foreigners. A young man, wearing a strange green and grey cloak. Arisaka's eyes narrowed. This was the one who had shot so quickly in reply to his lieutenant's arrow. But now the foreigner's heavy longbow was in Shigeru's hands and he was unarmed.
'You are a traitor and a coward and a man without honour, Arisaka!' the foreigner continued.
Arisaka raised his katana, pointing it at the calm young face. 'Who are you, gaijin? What do you know about honour?'
'I'm called Chocho,' Will said. 'I've seen honour among these Kikori warriors, men I've trained to fight you. They are men who understand loyalty and trust. And I see it now in your own men, now that they recognise the true Emperor of Nihon-Ja. But I see no honour in you, Arisaka. I see a crawling, cowardly, lying traitor! I see a man with no honour at all!'
'Chocho?' Arisaka shouted, goaded beyond control. 'Butterfly? Then die, Butterfly!'
He leaped forward, the katana rising for a lethal strike at the unarmed foreigner. But then Will's right arm shot forward from beneath his cloak and he stepped forward with his right leg, going into a crouch as he released the saxe knife in an underarm throw.
A spinning pinwheel of light, it flashed towards the charging Arisaka, hitting him above the breastplate of his armour, below his chin, and burying itself in his throat.
The impact of the heavy blade jerked Arisaka's head back. He felt the katana drop from his suddenly slack fingers, felt hot blood gushing from the huge wound. Then he felt…nothing.
Will straightened from his crouch as Shigeru stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
'It seems he mistook a butterfly for a wasp,' the Emperor said.
The farewells had been said, for the most part. Will, Halt, Selethen and the two girls were already on board Wolfwill. The ship lay with its bow beached on the sand, at the cove where the Araluan party had originally come ashore. Gundar and his men had spent a relatively comfortable winter on the offshore island, although Gundar had been sorry to hear that he had missed an epic battle. But there had been plenty of fish and shellfish in the cold waters, and a good supply of game onshore. Now, like their passengers, the Skandians were eager to turn the ship towards home waters.
Only Horace remained on the beach, standing facing the Emperor, dwarfing the smaller man. Tears formed in the young warrior's eyes now that the time had come to say goodbye. In the months that had passed, he realised he had come to love this brave and unselfish ruler, to respect his unwavering sense of justice and his unfailing good humour. He knew he would miss Shigeru's deep rumbling chuckle – a sound so massive that he always wondered how it came from such a small frame.
Now, faced with the moment of leaving, there was an enormous lump in his throat, a lump that blocked the many words he wanted to say.
Shigeru stepped forward and embraced him. He knew how much he owed to the young man. He knew how Horace's courage, resolve and loyalty had sustained him and his small band of followers throughout the difficult and dangerous weeks when they were escaping from Arisaka. He remembered how Horace had stepped forward unhesitatingly to take Shukin's place when his cousin had died at Arisaka's hand.
The two Rangers, of course, had done a great service for him with their innovative tactics and battle plans, as had the dark-skinned, hawk-nosed Arridi warrior. And Evanlyn and Alyss, by their courage and initiative, had been the instruments that saved his throne, bringing the mighty Hasanu army to his rescue. He was grateful to them all.
But without Kurokuma, none of them would have been here. Without Kurokuma, Arisaka would now be Emperor.
'Shigeru…' Horace managed one word, then, choked with emotion, he stepped back from the older man's embrace, his head lowered, his cheeks running with tears.
Shigeru patted the muscular arm. 'Parting is hard, Kurokuma. But you and I will always be together. Just look into your mind and heart and you'll find me there. I will never forget you. I will never forget that I owe you everything.'
'I…I don't…' Horace could manage no more, but Shigeru knew what he was trying to say.
'I wish you could stay with us, my son. But your own country and your own king need you.'
Horace nodded, overwhelmed by the sense of conflicting loyalties. Shigeru couldn't have picked a more compelling form of address than to call Horace 'son'. Horace had grown up an orphan, deprived of a father's love and guidance from an early age. Then Shigeru smiled and spoke in a lower voice, so that nobody else could hear.
'And I believe that a certain young princess has need of you too. Take good care of her. She is a jewel beyond price.'
Horace raised his tear-reddened eyes to meet Shigeru's. He managed a faint smile in return. 'She certainly is that,' he agreed.
'We'll see each other again. I know that in my heart. You know you will always be welcome here in Nihon-Ja. You are one of us.'
Horace nodded. 'I will come back one day,' he said. 'That's a definite promise. And maybe you could travel to Araluen.'
Shigeru pursed his lips. 'Yes. But perhaps not for a while. I think I need to stay here until matters are stabilised,' he said. 'But who knows? If there were an important occasion of state – a high-ranking wedding, perhaps?'
He left the thought open and again they shared a conspirators' smile. Then he reached into the wide sleeve of his robe and produced a small scroll, tied with black silk ribbon. He handed it to Horace.
'In the meantime, remember me by this. A token of my friendship.'