But Shukin shook his head without any sign of uncertainty. 'It's not heavy enough for that. The water doesn't build up because it escapes so easily at the falls.'
Shigeru smiled at his cousin, understanding how heavily the responsibility for his Emperor's safety and wellbeing was lying on the Senshi's shoulders.
'Well, my friend, there's no sense in bemoaning what we can't achieve today. Let's get on with what we can achieve and find this village. As Or'ss-san mentioned earlier, at least we'll have somewhere dry to sleep tonight.' He included Horace in the smile.
Shukin nodded and turned to issue a command to the small column. As they moved out, Horace noticed that Shukin now had a determined set to his shoulders. Not for the first time, Horace reflected on how the Emperor's good-humoured, unselfish response to setbacks could inspire so much more loyalty and effort from his subordinates than blustering and bullying could ever achieve. It was a valuable lesson in leadership, he thought.
It was another difficult two hours on the trail, riding, slithering, sliding and stumbling before they reached level ground once more. Shukin called a brief halt while horses and men caught their breath for a few minutes. He consulted his map, with one of his troops holding a waterproof cape over him. There was barely enough light to see the details on the sheet, Horace thought, but the Senshi warrior folded the map away and pointed down the trail.
'Ten more minutes,' he said.
A little while after, they saw the glimmer of lights through the trees, flickering intermittently as branches, moving in the wind, interposed themselves between them. Then, abruptly, they were in a clearing, at the beginning of a small group of thatched-roof cabins. Warm yellow light glowed through the waxed-paper window panes of the houses and smoke curled from several chimneys. The smell of woodsmoke spoke to Horace of warm rooms and hot food and tea. Suddenly, he was eager to dismount.
As he had the thought, he became aware of movement in his peripheral vision. He looked to the side and saw doors sliding open as dark forms materialised on the wooden porches that fronted the houses.
The villagers were emerging from their homes to welcome the strangers who had arrived among them.
At least, Horace hoped they were planning a welcome.
Wolfwill had been sailing east for two days, and Toscana was far behind them. The strangely rigged ship, with a curving triangular sail whose boom was set at a steep angle to the vertical mast, was swooping eagerly over the small waves, with the wind on her beam. The sail had been trimmed right round until its curved, swelling length was almost parallel to the line of the ship itself. The rigging hummed with the wind of their passage and the deck vibrated slightly underneath their feet. It was an exhilarating feeling, putting Will in mind of one of the low-flying seabirds that accompanied the ship for hours each day, planing easily just above the surface of the sea, with hardly any perceptible movement of their wings.
The Araluans and Selethen were gathered in the prow, leaving the main deck clear for the sailors to work the mast and sails. With this wind and this speed, there was no need for rowers, although the ship could mount eight long oars a side, in case the wind should drop.
Even Halt had joined them. Wisely, none of them commented on the fact that this was the first they had seen of him in the past two days. Evanlyn, Alyss and Will knew the delicate nature of Halt's stomach in the opening hours of any sea journey and they had appraised Selethen of the grey-bearded Ranger's touchiness on the subject.
Halt eyed them balefully. They were all being so obvious about not mentioning his sudden reappearance that it was even worse than if they had commented, he thought.
'Oh go on!' he said. 'Somebody say something! I know what you're thinking!'
'It's good to see you up and about, Halt,' Selethen said gravely. Of all of them, he was the most capable of keeping a straight face when he said it.
Halt glared at the others and they quickly chorused their pleasure at seeing him back to his normal self. But he could see the grins they didn't quite manage to hide. He fixed a glare on Alyss.
'I'm surprised at you, Alyss,' he said. 'I expected no better of Will and Evanlyn, of course. Heartless beasts, the pair of them. But you! I thought you had been better trained!'
Which was a particularly barbed comment, seeing how Alyss's mentor had been none other than Lady Pauline, Halt's beloved wife.
Alyss reached a hand out and touched his arm gently.
'Halt, I am sorry! It's not funny, you're right…Shut up, Will.' This last was directed at Will as he tried, unsuccessfully, to smother a snigger. 'There is nothing funny about mal de mer. It's a serious business.'
Halt was a little taken aback when he heard that. He thought he had nothing more than seasickness. An annoying problem, admittedly, but one that passed within a day or two of being at sea. But Alyss seemed to believe it was something far more exotic. And the more exotic an illness was, the more life-threatening it might be.
'Malldy-mur?' he said with a twinge of anxiety. 'What is this Malldy-mur?'
'It's Gallican,' Alyss told him. She had used the phrase because she knew how much Halt hated the word 'seasick'. If one were wise, the word was never even uttered in Halt's presence. She glanced at the others but they offered no help. None of them would meet her gaze. You got yourself into this, they seemed to be saying. Now you can get yourself out.
Halt was right, she thought. They were heartless beasts.
'It means…"seasick",' she finished weakly.
'I thought you spoke Gallican, Halt,' said Evanlyn.
He drew himself upright with some dignity. 'I do. My Gallican is excellent. But I can't be expected to memorise every obscure phrase in the language. And Alyss's pronunciation leaves a little to be desired.'
The others hastened to agree that no, he certainly couldn't, and yes, her pronunciation certainly did. Halt looked around them, feeling that honour had been suitably restored. It has to be admitted that, in a sneaking way, while he hated the discomfort of seasickness, once he was over it, he enjoyed the attention and sympathy that it created among attractive young women like Evanlyn and Alyss. And he liked the fact that Will tended to walk on eggshells around him when the problem was mentioned. Keeping Will off balance was always desirable.
Things took a downward turn, however, as Gundar, seeing Halt upright for the first time in two days, stumped up the deck to join them.
'Back on your feet then?' he boomed cheerfully, with typical Skandian tact. 'By Gorlog's toenails, with all the heaving and puking you've been doing, I thought you'd turn yourself inside out and puke yourself over the rail!'
At which graphic description, Alyss and Evanlyn blanched and turned away.
'You do paint a pretty picture, Gundar,' Will said and Selethen allowed himself a smile.
'Thank you for your concern,' Halt said icily. Of all people, Skandians seemed the most intolerant of seasickness – or, as he now knew it, malldy-mur. He made a mental note to get Gundar on horseback as soon as they reached Nihon-Ja. Skandians were notoriously bad riders.
'So, did you find Albert?' Gundar went on, unabashed. Even Halt was puzzled by his sudden apparent change of subject.
'Albert?' he asked. Too late, he saw Gundar's grin widening and knew he'd stepped into a trap.
'You seemed to be looking for him. You'd lean over the rail and call, "Al-b-e-e-e-e-e-r-t!" I thought he might be some Araluan sea god.'
The others had to agree that Gundar's drawn-out enunciation of the name sounded very much like the sound of Halt's desperate, heartfelt retching over the side. Halt glared at the sea wolf.
'No. I didn't find him. Maybe I could look for him in your helmet.'
He reached out a hand. But Gundar had heard what happened when Skandians lent their helmets to the grim-faced Ranger while on board ship and he backed away a pace.
'No. I'm pretty sure he's not there,' he said hurriedly.
Selethen, ever the diplomat, thought it might be time to get everybody's minds off Halt's stomach.
'This is an interesting ship, captain,' he said to Gundar. 'I can't remember seeing one quite like it. And I've seen many Skandian wolfships in my time,' he added meaningfully.
Selethen was the Wakir, or local ruler, of one of Arrida's coastal provinces. He'd usually seen wolfships while they were engaged in raiding his towns. Gundar was oblivious to the reference. But, as Selethen had suspected, like any Skandian, he was eager to talk about his ship.
'She's a fine ship!' he enthused. 'Built her myself, up on the banks of a river in north Araluen – remember, Will?' He looked to Will for confirmation. Gundar and his crew, having been shipwrecked on the north coast, had been conscripted by Will to assist him in the siege of Castle Macindaw. As a reward for their services, they had been granted permission to stay in Araluen while they built a new ship for the journey home. Will had also been instrumental in making sure that timber, cordage, canvas, tar and other materials were supplied to them at the bare minimum price.
'I remember well enough,' Will agreed. 'But she was square-rigged then. This new sail arrangement is something quite different.'
'Ah yes, the Heron sail plan. It's really something,' Gundar agreed. 'We kept the hull and changed the mast, sails and rigging.'
'Why do you call it the Heron sail plan?' Alyss asked.
Gundar beamed at her. He had met Alyss at Macindaw as well, and been rewarded by a kiss on his bearded cheek when they were reacquainted in Toscana. Gundar was partial to being kissed by beautiful blondes. But he sensed there was something between this particular one and Will, so he took things no further.