The Harsh Cry of the Heron (61 page)

‘Then ride Tenba,’
Takeo said. ‘The two of them will encourage each other.’

He took her horse,
Ashige, in exchange, and sent her ahead with Gemba, thinking that she would be
safer there than in the rear. Then there was the question of what to do with
the packhorses, and the lavish gifts from the Emperor and Lord Saga that they
carried - they could not keep up with the other horses. Reflecting that the
Emperor was already irredeemably offended, Takeo ordered the bales and baskets
to be left beside the path by the little rock shrine at the spring’s edge. He
regretted the loss of the beautiful objects, the silk robes, the bronze mirrors
and lacquered bowls, thinking how much Kaede would have appreciated them, but
could see no other solution. He also abandoned the palanquins, and even the
ornamental suits of armour that had been Lord Saga’s gift. They were heavy and
impractical, and Takeo preferred his own armour, which had been left in Kahei’s
charge.

‘They are an offering
to the gods of the mountain,’ he said to Hiroshi, as they rode away. ‘Though I
do not believe any gods will help us now. What does the blessing of Heaven
mean? We know the kirin is just an animal, not a mythical creature. It ran away
because it missed its companions.’

‘It has become a
symbol now,’ Hiroshi replied. ‘That is the way human beings deal with the
world.’

‘This is hardly the
time for philosophical discussions! We would do better to discuss our battle
plan.’

‘Yes, I have been
thinking about it ever since we came this way: the pass is so narrow and
difficult that once we are through it will be easy to defend our rear against
Saga’s men. But will it be undefended now? I keep thinking, if I were Saga I
would have closed off your escape route before you left the capital.’

‘The same thought had
occurred to me,’ Takeo admitted, and their fears were confirmed within the next
hour when Sakai returned to report that the pass was filled with Saga’s men
hidden among rocks and trees, armed with bows and firearms.

‘I climbed a tree,
and looked back towards the East,’ Sakai said. ‘Using the far-seer I could make
out Saga’s army in the distance, pursuing us. They are flying red war banners,
and Saga’s defence troops at the pass must have seen them too. I’ve sent a
scout round - Kitayama will get through if anyone can - but he has to climb the
mountain and descend the other side before he reaches Lord Miyoshi.’

‘How long will that
take him?’ Takeo asked.

‘If he gets there
before nightfall he’ll be lucky.’

‘How many in the
pass?’

‘Fifty to a hundred.
We did not have much time to count.’

‘Well, we are more or
less equally matched,’ Hiroshi said. ‘But they have all the advantages of the
terrain.’

‘It is too late to
take them by surprise: but can we outflank them?’ Takeo inquired.

‘Our only hope is to
bring them out into the open,’

Hiroshi replied. ‘We
can then pick them off - you and Lady Shigeko must ride at full speed while we
cover you.’

Takeo brooded in
silence for a while, then sent Sakai up ahead with the order for the guards to
halt well before the pass, and to conceal themselves. He himself caught up with
Shigeko and Gemba.

‘I must ask for my
horse back,’ he said. ‘I have a plan to bring them out of hiding.’

‘You will not go
alone?’ Shigeko questioned, as she dismounted from Tenba and took Ashige’s
reins from her father.

‘I will go with Tenba
and the kirin,’ he replied. ‘But no one will see me.’

He rarely displayed
his Tribe skills to Shigeko, or even spoke of them to her, and he did not want
to explain them now. He saw her look of doubt, swiftly controlled.

‘Don’t worry,’ he
said. ‘Nothing can harm me. But you must ready your bows and be prepared to
shoot to kill.’

‘We will try to
disable them rather than take their lives,’ she replied, glancing at Gemba, who
sat silent and impassive on the black horse.

‘This will be a true
battle, not a friendly contest,’ Takeo said, wanting to prepare her in some way
for what lay ahead, for the madness and bloodlust of war. ‘You may not have a
choice.’

‘You must take Jato
again, Father. You should not go without it.’

He took it from her
gratefully. A special mount had been made for the sword, for it was too heavy
for Shigeko to carry; it was already on Tenba’s back, just in front of the
saddle. The sword was still in its ceremonial dress and looked magnificent. He
tied the kirin’s silken cord to the horse’s neck strap, and before remounting
he embraced Shigeko, praying silently for her safety. It was about midday and
very hot; even here in the mountains the air was still and heavy. As he took up
Tenba’s reins in his left hand, Takeo glanced upwards and saw huge thunderhead
clouds banking up in the West. The horse tossed his head against the clouds of
biting midges.

As he rode away from
the group with the kirin, he was aware that someone was following him on foot.
He had given orders that he was to go alone, and he turned in the saddle to
command whoever it was to stay behind.

‘Lord Otori!’ It was
Mai, the Muto girl, Sada’s sister.

He halted for a
moment and she came to the horse’s flank. Tenba swung his head towards her.

‘Maybe I can help
you,’ she said. ‘Let me go with you.’

‘Are you armed?’

She drew a dagger
from inside her robe. ‘I also have throwing knives, and a garrotte. Lord Otori
plans to use invisibility?’

He nodded.

‘I could also use it.
The aim is to make them show themselves so the warriors can get them?’

‘They will see a
warhorse and the kirin, apparently alone. I am hoping curiosity and greed will
make them approach. Do not attack them until they are in the open and Sugita
has ordered the first shots. They must be lulled into carelessness. Take
whichever side seems to have less men hidden, and kill as many as you can. The
more confused they are, the better for us.’

She smiled slightly. ‘Thank
you, lord. Each one will be some consolation for my sister’s murder.’

Now I am committed to
warfare, he thought with sorrow as he urged Tenba forward again and let
invisibility descend on him.

The path became
steeper and rockier, but just before the pass itself it levelled a little and
widened. The sun was still high in the sky, but had begun its descent into the
west, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen. On either side the mountain
ranges, emerging from the dense forest, stretched away; ahead of him lay the
Three Countries, covered now in cloud. Lightning flashed in the distance, and
he heard the roll of thunder. It made Tenba throw up his head and tremble; the
kirin walked as calmly and gracefully as ever.

Takeo heard the
distant mewing of kites and the flutter of birds’ wings, the creaking of
ancient trees, the faraway trickle of water. As he rode into the valley he
heard the whisper of voices, the slight rustle of men shifting position, the
sigh of bow strings drawn back and, even more ominously, the tap of a firearm
being loaded with powder.

For a moment his
blood chilled. He had no fear of death; he had brushed with it so many times it
held no horrors for him; moreover, he had convinced himself that no one would
kill him until his son did, but now a barely realized dread surfaced, of the
bullet that killed from afar, the iron ball that tore roughly through flesh and
bone. If I am to die, let it be by the sword, he prayed, as the thunder rolled
again, though if I die by the firearm it is only justice, for I introduced
them, and developed them.

He could not remember
ever using invisibility on horseback before, accustomed to keeping his warrior
skills quite separate from those of the Tribe. He let the horse’s reins fall on
its neck and took his feet from the stirrups so no sign of a rider would be
discernible. He wondered what the watching men were thinking as the horse and
the kirin progressed through the valley. Did it look like something from a
dream, or some old legend come to life? The black horse, mane and tail shining
as brightly as the decorated saddle, the sword on its flank; and the kirin,
tall and unfamiliar, its long neck, its strangely patterned skin.

He heard the thrum of
an arrow: Tenba heard it too, and started, Takeo keeping his balance as the
sudden movement whipped him sideways. He did not want to fall like Kono; nor
did he want to lose invisibility through lack of concentration. He slowed his
breathing and let his body follow the horse’s movements as though they were one
creature.

The arrow thudded
into the ground a few yards ahead of him. It had not been aimed directly at the
animals, merely as a sort of exploration of their nature. Takeo let Tenba
skitter a little, and then pressed his legs slightly into his sides, urging him
forward, grateful to the horse for his responsiveness and for the bond between then.
The kirin followed docilely.

A shout came from his
right, from the northern side of the valley. Tenba pricked his ears and
swivelled them towards the sound. Another man shouted in reply, from the
southern side. Tenba broke into a trot, and the kirin began to lope in its
up-and-down way beside him.

The soldiers began to
show themselves one by one, emerging from their hiding places and running down
onto the valley floor. They were lightly armoured, favouring easy concealment
and flexibility over full battle armour: they had hoped for a quick ambush.
They were armed mostly with bows, and a few firearms, but they laid these
aside.

Tenba snorted,
alarmed by them as if by a pack of wolves, and quickened his pace until he was
cantering. This made more of the men emerge and run faster, trying to cut the
animals off before the end of the valley. Takeo felt the ground begin to slope
away: they had crossed the highest point; in front of him the view opened out.
He could see the plains below where Kahei’s army waited.

Now there was
shouting all around as the soldiers gave up any idea of concealing themselves,
vying to be the first to grasp the warhorse’s reins and claim him. Ahead, five
or six horsemen appeared in the gap between the crags. Tenba was galloping now,
snaking like a stallion herding mares, teeth bared, prepared to bite; the kirin’s
huge stride made it appear to float above the ground. Takeo heard another arrow
come whistling past him, dropped flat on the horse’s neck, clutching at the
luxuriant mane, and saw the first soldier fall, the arrow through his chest.
Behind him he could make out the drumming of hooves as his own troops swept
into the valley.

The terrible sound of
arrows filled the air, like the beating of wings. Too late, the soldiers
realized their entrapment and began to run back to the cover of the rocks. One
dropped immediately, a star-shaped knife in his eyes, making those behind him
hesitate long enough to fall to the next volley of arrows. Either Tenba and the
kirin were just out of range, or the marksmanship of his archers was superb,
for though Takeo heard the clack of the shafts all around him, nothing hit the
animals.

The horsemen loomed
ahead of him, their swords drawn. He fumbled for the stirrups, secured his
feet, braced himself and drew Jato with his left hand, letting visibility
return at the same moment as he swung the sword to his left, knocking the first
horseman from the saddle with a blow that cut open neck and chest. He sat deep
in the saddle, throwing his weight backwards in an attempt to slow Tenba down,
and at the same moment slashed the cord that tied the kirin to the horse. The
kirin ran awkwardly onward while Tenba, remembering perhaps what he had been
bred for, slowed and spun to face the other horsemen who now surrounded Takeo.

He had almost
forgotten how it felt, but it all came rushing back to him: the single-minded
madness that thought of nothing but the strength, skill and resolve that would
ensure its possessor’s own survival. He forgot his age and his disabilities, the
left hand taking over the crippled right hand’s role, Jato leaping as it always
had done, as if with its own will.

He was aware of
Hiroshi joining him, Keri’s pale grey coat reddened with blood, and then the
galloping thrust of his own small group of warriors all around him, Shigeko,
Gemba, their bows over their backs, swords in their hands.

‘Ride on,’ he called
to them, and smiled inwardly as they went past him and began to descend.
Shigeko was safe, at least for today. The conflict slackened and he realized
the last of the enemy horsemen were trying to escape, and the men on foot were
also running away, seeking the shelter of rocks and trees.

‘Do we go after them?’
Hiroshi called, getting his breath, turning Keri back.

‘No, let them go.
Saga must be close behind. We cannot delay. We are in the Three Countries now.
We will be with Kahei tonight.’

This is just a
skirmish, Takeo was thinking as he returned Jato to the mount and sanity began
to return. The main battle is still to come.

‘Gather up our dead and
wounded,’ he told Hiroshi. ‘Leave no one behind.’ Then he shouted loudly, ‘Mai!
Mai!’

He saw the flicker of
invisibility on the northern flank, and rode Tenba towards her as she came into
view. He reached down and swung her up behind him.