Ranger's Apprentice 10: The Emperor of Nihon-Ja (23 page)

‘It’s a little early to be showing you this,’ Will said, as he led the curious party uphill towards a secluded corner of the valley. ‘So far, we only have equipment for ten men. The others have to take it in turn to train and practise.’

‘Practise what?’ Evanlyn asked but Halt signalled her to wait.

They stopped at a point where a grove of trees screened a smaller gully. Will and Selethen ushered them forward and they came to a flat section of land, forty metres by twenty.

Horace pointed to a line of fascines – bundles of light branches tied together, each about the size of a man – standing at the far end of the gully.

‘What are they?’

Will grinned at him. ‘They’re the enemy.’ He looked at Selethen. ‘Do you want to take over?’

The Arridi warrior shrugged deferentially. ‘It was your idea. I’m just an assistant.’

Will nodded, gathered his thoughts for a second, then proceeded.

‘I got the inklings of this idea when we first arrived here and I saw the Kikori at work. Their group discipline was excellent.’

Shigeru nodded. ‘It has to be. Timber cutting is a dangerous business.’

‘Exactly,’ Will said. ‘Then Horace, I think, said that the Senshi, with their years of training, excelled at individual combat. How one on one, they were generally superior to our Araluan warriors.’ He glanced a question at Horace, who also nodded.

Halt settled back, leaning comfortably against a rock, smiling at his former pupil. He thought he could see where this was heading, but he wasn’t sure how Will planned to achieve it.

‘Now all of this rang a bell in my memory. I’d heard this sort of thing before. It drove me mad for a few days, then I remembered where it had been.’ He paused and Halt’s smile widened as the others unconsciously leaned forward, waiting for him to continue. His young pupil couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little drama.

‘I recalled General Sapristi saying much the same things.’

‘General who?’ Horace asked, totally puzzled.

‘He was a general in Toscana who arranged a demonstration of their fighting methods for us,’ Will explained. ‘The Toscan legions have developed a system of fighting as a team. It’s simple, so there’s no need for them to learn or practise complex swordplay. They just have to jab and stab and shove. The secret is, they all work together.’ He paused. His throat was a little dry with all this talking and he gestured for Selethen to take up the story.

‘As the general told us, individually his legionnaires would be no match for expert warriors. Their strength lies in their teamwork, and their equipment.’ Selethen paused, then turned and called out an order.

‘Kikori! Show yourselves!’

He and Will had sent a messenger ahead to let the trainees know they were coming. Now, on his command, a file of ten Kikori trotted out from behind a pile of boulders halfway up the valley.

But they were equipped as no Kikori had ever been equipped before. Shigeru stared at them, fascinated.

Each man carried a long rectangular shield. It was slightly curved and made of wood, reinforced at the top and sides with strips of iron. In the centre, a plate-sized iron boss protruded. The men also wore hard leather breastplates and leather helmets. These too were trimmed with iron strips, for extra protection. As they ran, moving at a steady jog, they held long wooden javelins sloped over their shoulders.

Horace moved forward to look more closely. ‘They’re pretty primitive,’ he said. The javelins were roughly trimmed wooden stocks, about a metre and a half long, each with an iron rod bound to it, protruding some fifty centimetres past the wooden stock. The iron rod ended in a barbed point.

‘They don’t need to be anything more than that,’ Will told him. ‘Selethen, will you conduct the drill, please?’ He turned to the others. ‘Let’s move down a little, to the side. You’ll be able to see better.’

He led the way to a small rock outcrop halfway down the gully. Selethen kept the ten Kikori in a line, waiting expectantly. When his companions were settled, Will called to Selethen.

‘Enemy sighted!’

‘Battle formation!’ Selethen barked the command. Instantly, every second man in the line took two paces backwards. Then both lines closed up, so that where there had been ten men in one line, there were now two ranks of five. The movement was accomplished in seconds.

‘Forward!’ Selethen commanded. The two ranks stepped off together, pacing steadily forward, with the Kikori on the right end of the second rank calling time.

‘Impressive,’ said Horace softly.

Will glanced quickly at him. ‘As I said, their sense of discipline is excellent. They pick up these drills quickly.’ Then he looked away and shouted to Selethen again.

‘Enemy archers!’

‘Halt!’ cried Selethen. The steadily advancing Kikori crashed to a stop.

Halt remembered Will’s phrase at the display in Toscana:
A cloud of dust and a line of statues
. General Sapristi would have been impressed, he thought.

‘Kamé!’
Selethen ordered.

The Emperor leaned back and looked at Will, a little confused. ‘Tortoise?’

But Will gestured towards the ten trainees. The front rank had raised their shields to head height, while the second rank held theirs higher, parallel to the ground, the edges overlapping the tops of the front rank’s shields. The ten men were now protected from the front and above by an uninterrupted carapace.

‘Ah…yes. Tortoise. I see,’ Shigeru said thoughtfully.

‘
Kamé
down!’ Selethen ordered and the shields came back to their original position. ‘Front rank,
yari
!’

Now the front rank took a large pace forward. The men turned side on, reversed their grips on the rough javelins and, as one, leaned their weight onto their right feet, the long weapons going back over their right shoulders, pointing up at a thirty-degree angle.

‘Throw!’

They released as one, each man putting the strength and power of his entire body behind the cast. The weapons sailed high, then arced down as the weight of the iron tips took effect. Three of the fascines were struck and knocked to the ground, while the other two javelins bounded and slithered harmlessly past them. Already, Selethen was ordering the second rank forward. They moved through the first rank and repeated the sequence of movements. Another five javelins soared across the short distance. Another fascine was hit.

‘Imagine that, but with fifty javelins each time instead of one,’ Will said.

Horace nodded thoughtfully. A barrage of fifty of those rough-looking weapons could be devastating to an opposing force. His military mind had seen the value of the soft iron tips – understanding how a warrior, even lightly wounded, would be impeded by the dragging weight of the javelin.

‘But now they are unarmed,’ Shigeru said. He had been looking carefully, but could see no sign of the long
katana
that were the principal weapon of the Senshi. No sooner had he said the words than he heard the scraping rattle of blades being drawn. He saw now that each of the Kikori was armed with a short weapon.

‘Issho ni!’
Selethen called. The two ranks began to advance, shields locked together.

‘Issho ni!’
The shout was echoed from ten throats, then repeated as they moved steadily forward.

Will looked at the Emperor. ‘We’re using Nihon-Jan for the more important commands,’ he explained. ‘Less chance of misunderstanding that way.’

‘Appropriate,’ Shigeru answered.

Evanlyn cocked her head to one side curiously. ‘What does
“issho ni”
mean?’

‘Together,’ Alyss told her.

‘It’s their battle cry,’ Will said. ‘It reminds them of how they fight – as a team.’ He cupped his hands and called to Selethen. ‘Bring them towards us!’

The Arridi waved acknowledgement and called an order. The left-hand marker on each rank began to march in place while his comrades wheeled to the left in a steady, co-ordinated movement.

Horace whistled softly. ‘They might have been born to do this.’

Now the two ranks were facing the spectators and Selethen called another sequence of orders. The wheeling movement stopped and the formation, still intact, began to advance again. Shigeru and the others could see the value of the large shields. The men themselves were virtually invisible, only the tops of their helmets showing above the wall of shields.

There was nothing for a swordsman to engage, the Emperor realised. But darting out from narrow gaps between the shields, he could see the short weapons the Kikori carried, flickering like so many snakes’ tongues.

‘How can they see?’ he asked.

Will smiled. ‘Not very well. Their commander controls the direction of the advance. But they stab at anything that comes into sight through the gaps in the shields. Arms, legs, bodies. It’s just stab and move forward, stab and move forward. We don’t teach them any of the sort of sweeping, scything strokes that the Senshi use. They don’t need to learn any complex techniques. Just stab quickly and withdraw the weapon immediately. If a Senshi warrior attacks one of them, he’s confronted by a huge shield. And if he presses the attack, the man next to his opponent will probably stab him as he does so.’

‘Where did their swords come from?’ Halt asked.

‘Some of them are the short swords carried by the Senshi killed at Riverside Village or at the palisade. The rest are cut-down spears, with the shafts reinforced with iron strips.’

‘But a good
katana
will shear easily through iron like that,’ Shigeru protested.

Will conceded the point. ‘Admittedly. That’s why each man will carry two reserve swords. But they’re not using their short swords to parry or block the Senshi’s
katana
. That’s what the shields are for. And if a
katana
cuts into the iron and wood of a shield, its owner could find himself in trouble.’

‘I don’t understand.’ The Emperor frowned.

But Horace had seen the truth of what Will said. In fact, he’d used the same idea as a tactic in times past.

‘If the
katana
cuts into the shield, it will be jammed for a few seconds while its owner gets it free. And in that time, he’ll have two or three Kikori stabbing at him. He stands to lose either his sword or his life.’

‘Yes.’ The Emperor fingered his chin thoughtfully. He had to admit that this display was a little unnerving. He was raised in the Senshi tradition and, egalitarian as he might be, it was unsettling to see that two foreigners had so quickly devised a way to counteract Senshi techniques.

Will held up his hand now and Selethen called the troop to a halt. Another command and, as one, they grounded their shields and bowed to their Emperor. Shigeru rose from where he had been seated on the rock and bowed deeply in return. His qualms of a few minutes ago were gone. These were his people, just as much as the Senshi were, he realised. They were willing to fight for him, and to learn new ways of doing so. They deserved his respect and loyalty.

Will slid down from the rock and walked among the Kikori troops, slapping them on the shoulder and offering words of congratulation to them as he went. Then he and Selethen dismissed them and rejoined the others.

‘We’ve got three months,’ he said to Halt. ‘We plan to train and equip two hundred men in these techniques.’

Halt nodded. ‘With two centuries of trained men, you could give Arisaka a very nasty surprise indeed. Well done, Will. And you too, Selethen.’

The Arridi bowed and made his traditional greeting gesture. ‘As I said, it was Will’s idea,’ he replied. ‘But like you, I think it will be very effective.’

Horace dropped an arm over Will’s shoulder and shook his head. His slightly built friend never ceased to amaze him.

‘You seem to have a habit of creating armies out of nowhere,’ he said. ‘Pity there aren’t a hundred Araluan slaves here you could train as archers.’ He was referring to the potent force of archers Will had formed to fight the Temujai army. ‘One thing,’ he added with a slight frown. ‘You’re going to need a lot of iron for helmets and shields and stabbing swords. Where are you going to find it?’

‘We have it already.’ Will grinned. ‘The Kikori metal workers are busy melting down the cache of old weapons you discovered. We don’t need finely tempered steel and they should do the job nicely.’

‘I wonder,’ said Horace, ‘if I’ll ever ask a question you can’t answer.’

Will considered the idea for a second or two, then shook his head.

‘I shouldn’t think so.’

Evanlyn spun slowly on the end of the rope as the team of Kikori above her gradually paid out line, allowing her to descend.

She was hanging in space, several metres clear of the cliff face. But a few metres below her, a large outcrop of rock bulged out, barring the way. As she turned back to face the cliff once more, the waiting Kikori let out a few more metres of rope until her feet touched the rock. Bracing her feet against it, she walked herself backwards down the cliff, using her legs and feet to keep her clear as the men above continued to lower her. Then she was past the outcrop and slowly spinning in space again as she descended.

‘You’re nearly here,’ Alyss called from below. Evanlyn looked over her shoulder and could see the Courier waiting at the foot of the cliff, barely fifteen metres below her. She looked back up to where the rope now slid over the rock outcrop. Too much of that and the rope would fray and eventually break, she thought. But the rock was smooth and there wasn’t far to go. She felt her feet touch solid ground, and Alyss’s hand on her elbow to steady her. The rope went slack and she let out a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath. Her legs were a little unsteady, a reaction to the fact that she had been dangling in space over an enormous drop, like a spider on a strand of web. Alyss hurried to help free her from the harness of rope that the Kikori had created to hold her safely while they lowered her down the cliff face.

‘I’m glad that’s over,’ Evanlyn said.

Alyss nodded in heartfelt agreement. ‘If there’s one thing that terrifies me, it’s heights.’

Evanlyn looked at her in surprise. ‘But you volunteered to go first.’

‘Only because I thought if I watched you go, I’d never have the nerve to follow. I spent most of the time with my eyes shut tight.’

They cast loose the last of the rope that had been tied around Evanlyn, and Alyss tugged hard on it four times – a prearranged signal to tell the Kikori above that Evanlyn was safely at the bottom of the cliff. The rope suddenly began a rapid ascent while the two girls took stock of their situation.

The cliffs were over two hundred and fifty metres high and they had made the descent in three stages, with the Kikori climbers choosing suitable staging points along the way. At each point, a climber had waited with Alyss and Evanlyn while the rest of the team descended, then the girls were lowered down the next stage. The kayak, tied in a narrow bundle, lay on the rocks beside them. One of the Kikori had made the final stage of the descent with it, guiding it past the obstruction of the rock outcrop and untying it at the bottom. He had then climbed swiftly back up, aided by his companions hauling in on the rope, to report that all was well.

A few metres away, the waters of Mizu-Umi Bakudai lapped gently against the shore. Evanlyn was relieved to see that the water was calm. The day had been sufficiently hair-raising, she thought, without the added complication of rough water for her initiation into the art of kayaking.

‘I guess we’d better start getting the boat assembled,’ she said. But before Alyss could reply, a small shower of pebbles rattled off the rock outcrop above them. They both covered their heads against any stray pebbles that might come down, then looked up as a pair of boots appeared over the edge of the rock. The Kikori who had made the descent called for his companions to stop lowering. He braced himself out from the rock and slipped a pad of sheepskin between the rope and the rock face. Obviously, he shared Evanlyn’s earlier thought about the rope fraying. Then he signalled and the lowering recommenced. He dropped quickly to the rocks beside them, then looked up, grinning.

‘You came down faster than we did, Eiko,’ Evanlyn said.

He shrugged. ‘Do this many times,’ he told them.

The girls noticed that he had disdained to use the harness arrangement that had been devised for them. He had simply tied a loop at the end of the rope and placed one foot in it as the others lowered him. Alyss shuddered at the thought.

Eiko had their travel packs over his shoulder and he unslung them and set them on the ground beside the bundle of timber and oilskin. He gestured to it.

‘You need help?’

Alyss shook her head. ‘We should get used to assembling it ourselves.’

He nodded and stood back, watching as they quickly unrolled the bundle, arranged the frames and ribs, then fastened and braced the timbers so that the skeleton of the boat took shape.

As they began to stretch the oilskin cover over the frame, straining against the lacing to bring it tight, he made a clicking noise with his tongue and stopped them.

‘Better this way!’ he said. Removing the retaining pins, he slid one of the main frames sideways, relaxing the tension so that the ribs of the boat collapsed slightly.

‘Tie now,’ he said, accompanying the word with gestures. ‘Then tighten ribs again.’

The girls quickly grasped the idea. They stretched the oilskin tight over the partially collapsed boat, lacing it firmly in place, then straightened the frame, levering it into its original position, so that any remaining slack in the skin of the boat was now tensioned out.

‘Good thinking,’ Alyss said appreciatively. ‘That makes it much easier.’

‘Yes. I was afraid I was going to break a fingernail,’ Evanlyn added.

Alyss looked up at her sharply, about to make a disparaging remark, when she realised the princess was joking. Feeling a little foolish, she bent her head to the task of fastening the last of the laces. When the last knot was tied, they stepped back and surveyed their handiwork.

‘Excellent,’ said Alyss.

Evanlyn nodded. ‘You’d almost swear it was a boat.’

This time, Alyss didn’t react. She had a feeling that Evanlyn’s jokes were intended to conceal her nervousness about venturing across the lake in this seemingly frail craft. Alyss could understand that. But she also knew that the kayak was far more robust and seaworthy than it looked.

The two double-ended paddles had been tied in the original bundle and she picked them up and carried them the few metres to the water’s edge. When she returned, she saw that Eiko had been busy, blowing up the two pigskin air-bladders that served as buoyancy chambers in case the boat was swamped in heavy weather. They pushed them into the bow and stern of the kayak, wedging them in place between the stringers, then stowed their travel packs into the space between the two seats, fastening an oilskin cover over them to keep them dry.

‘Right,’ said Alyss. ‘Grab an end and let’s go.’

The girls stooped to pick up the boat but Eiko waved them back. He lifted it easily onto his hip, balancing it there, and smiled at them.

‘Eiko,’ Evanlyn said, ‘we told you. We have to –’

‘Yes, yes!’ he said, waving his free hand disdainfully. ‘You have to do yourselves. You can do tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I do today.’

Alyss and Evanlyn exchanged a look. Then Alyss shrugged.

‘Why not?’ she said. ‘After all, we can do it tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.’ She bowed and swept one hand towards the edge of the lake. ‘Eiko, my friend, after you.’

Grinning, the Kikori strode towards the lake, the two girls following. He set the kayak down in the shallow water at the lake’s edge, leaving it half in and half out of the water. The two girls looked out over the wide expanse of water. From the clifftop, they had been able to see the far shore, a long, long way away. From water level, there was no sign of it. They might have been at the edge of an ocean.

‘It’s certainly a big lake,’ Evanlyn said quietly. She looked up at Eiko. ‘Eiko, what does “Mizu-Umi Bakudai” mean?’

The stockily built timber worker frowned uncertainly. ‘It means “Mizu-Umi Bakudai”,’ he said. Evanlyn made an impatient gesture.

‘Yes. Yes. Obviously. But what do those words mean?’

Alyss coughed and Evanlyn turned to her. The Courier was repressing a smile. ‘They mean “Big Lake”,’ she said.

Eiko nodded cheerfully and Evanlyn felt her cheeks colouring. ‘Oh, of course. Logical, I suppose.’

‘The Nihon-Jan have a penchant for literal place names, I’ve noticed,’ Alyss told her. Then, briskly, she dusted her hands off and stooped to the kayak, shoving it fully into the shallow water. ‘Let’s check the boat for leaks.’

The water was only a few centimetres deep at the shore but the bank shelved steeply so that, after two or three metres, it was half a metre deep. From there, it rapidly became deeper and the sand and stone bottom, easily visible close in, became lost from sight. Alyss waded in, reacting to the shock of the icy water.

‘Ow! That’s cold! Make sure you don’t tip us over, Evanlyn.’

‘Make sure yourself,’ Evanlyn replied crisply. But secretly, she knew that if anyone were going to tip the boat, it would be her. She went to step into the water to help, but Alyss waved her back.

‘Eiko can help me. He’s heavier.’ She turned to the Kikori and gestured to the boat. ‘Push it down as far as you can, please, Eiko.’

He nodded his understanding and waded in beside her. Reaching down, he braced his hands against the gunwale ribs and leaned his weight onto the boat. The hull sank deeper into the water under his weight and Alyss leaned in, searching up and down its length for any sign of water coming in. But the tight oilskin created an excellent water-tight barrier and there was no sign of a leak.

‘That’s great,’ Alyss said, straightening. She beckoned to Evanlyn. ‘Okay, grab your paddle and come and get aboard. Take the front seat. That way I can keep an eye on you.’

Eiko moved quickly towards Evanlyn, gesturing to indicate that he would lift her into the boat, but Alyss stopped him.

‘No, Eiko. Better if she gets used to doing it without help. Getting in can be a little tricky,’ she explained to Evanlyn. The other girl nodded and, paddle in hand, waded into the water. She, too, caught her breath at the icy touch of the lake.

‘I can see why you don’t want to tip over in this.’ Moving awkwardly, she raised one dripping wet foot and went to step over the kayak, planning to straddle it. But Alyss stopped her.

‘Not that way. Turn your back to it and get your behind in first. Sit in sideways with your backside on the seat. That gets the greater part of your body weight inside the boat, with only your legs to follow.’

Carefully, Evanlyn lowered herself backwards onto the wooden seat. The boat tipped and she tensed nervously. But Alyss held it steady.

‘I’ve got it. Loosen up. Now lift your feet and swing them into the boat. Put them on the ribs or the footrest in front of your seat, not the oilskin,’ she added. ‘Don’t ever put weight on that.’

Evanlyn looked up at her. ‘Any other blindingly obvious advice you’ve got for me?’ she asked sarcastically and Alyss shrugged.

‘Never hurts to be sure,’ she said. She waited as Evanlyn swung her legs and feet into the boat, settling herself in place. Then Alyss released her hold on the stern and moved to the side of the kayak. Eiko stepped forward to hold the boat steady as she had been doing but she waved him away.

‘I’m fine,’ she said. She handed her paddle to Evanlyn, who was waiting, a little anxiously. ‘Evanlyn, the boat is going to rock when I get in. Boats do that. It’s perfectly normal. Don’t try to counteract it. It’ll recover itself. Just keep your weight central and keep your body loose, okay?’

Evanlyn, tense as a fiddle string, nodded acknowledgement.

Moving quickly and smoothly, Alyss settled her weight into the rear seat and swung her legs inboard. The boat rocked under her weight – violently, it seemed to Evanlyn, who couldn’t help emitting a small squawk of alarm. Then it steadied and she realised they were floating, drifting clear of the bank and the spot where Eiko stood, knee deep in the water. He grinned encouragingly at them and waved. The tiny wavelets made a constant
pok-pok
sound against the tight skin of the kayak and, for the second time that day, Evanlyn let go a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

‘Okay, hand me that paddle,’ she heard Alyss say and she turned awkwardly to hand the paddle back to her companion. As she did so, the boat lurched and she instantly tensed up once more, turning quickly back to face the bow.

‘Relax,’ Alyss told her. ‘Just go with it – the way you would on a horse. If you suddenly go rigid, you’ll find it harder to keep balanced and relaxed. Now let’s try with that paddle again. And see if you can avoid dropping it overboard.’

This time, Evanlyn slid the paddle behind her without turning. She heard a slight grunt of pain as the blade caught Alyss in the ribs.

‘Thank you for that,’ the Courier said.

‘Sorry,’ Evanlyn replied. She hated the feeling of being out of control.

‘Now, let’s get this boat moving,’ Alyss told her. ‘Left side first. Paddle smoothly and slowly. Don’t try to do too much. Above all, try not to throw water all over me. On my count.’

Evanlyn raised the unfamiliar paddle, waiting for Alyss to call time.

‘All right…left side first. One…and two…One…and two…that’s good. Keep it going. Nice…and smooth. One and…Ow, damn it! If you splash me again I’ll throw you overboard. Now be
careful
!’

Which, Evanlyn thought, was no way to speak to the Crown Princess of Araluen.