It was her!
Midori half-rose and took Erast Petrovich’s hand again, in order to run on, but he didn’t yield – he pulled her back to him.
The next explosion roared on the other side of them and Fandorin saw her eyes again, very close – so beautiful and full of life.
‘Do you really love me?’ he asked.
A thunderous rush drowned out his words.
‘Do you love me?’ Erast Petrovich roared.
Instead of answering, she pulled off her mask, took his face between her hands and kissed him.
And he forgot about the rapid-firing cannon, about death’s whistling and rumbling, about everything in the world.
The pine tree blazed brighter and brighter, red shadows flickered across the trunks of trees and the ground. Panting, the titular counsellor tore the clothes from his beloved’s shoulders and her body changed from black to white.
Midori made no attempt at all to stop him. Her breathing was as fast as his, her hands were tearing off his shirt.
Around them the flames blazed, the earth split open, the trees groaned and Fandorin felt as if Night itself, wild and hot, were making love to him.
Pine needles pricked his back and his elbows by turns – the grappling lovers were rolling across the ground. Once a piece of shrapnel buried itself in the earth where their bodies had been just a second earlier, but neither of them noticed it.
It all ended suddenly. Midori pushed her beloved off with a jerk and darted in the opposite direction.
‘What are you doing?’ he exclaimed indignantly – and saw a burning branch falling between them, showering out sparks.
Only then did Erast Petrovich come to his senses.
There was no more artillery fire, just blazing trees crackling in two or three places.
‘What is this called in your jojutsu?’ he asked hoarsely, gesturing round at the forest.
Midori was tying her tangled hair in a knot.
‘There’s never been anything like this in jojutsu. But there will be now. I’ll call it “Fire and Thunder”.’
She was already pulling on her black costume, turning from white to black.
‘Where is everybody?’ asked Fandorin, hastily putting his own clothing in order. ‘Why is it quiet?’
‘Let’s go!’ she called, and ran on in front.
Half a minute later they were at the fissure – in the very spot where the vice-consul and his servant had thrown the lasso across. The dead tree was still there, but Erast Petrovich couldn’t see any sign of the rope.
‘Where to now?’ he shouted
She pointed across to the other side, then went down on all fours and suddenly disappeared over the edge of the cliff. Fandorin dashed after her and saw a cable woven from dry plant stems hanging down. It was thick and strong enough to hold any weight, so the young man followed Midori without hesitation.
She moved on a long way ahead of him, slithering down easily and confidently. But he found the descent difficult.
‘Quickly, quickly, we’ll be late!’ Midori urged him on from down below.
Erast Petrovich tried his very best, but she still had to wait for quite a long time.
The moment he jumped down on to the grass-covered ground, his guide dragged him on into dense, prickly undergrowth.
There, between two boulders, he saw a black crevice in the sheer wall. The titular counsellor squeezed into it with great difficulty, but after that the passage widened out.
‘Please, please, quickly!’ he heard Midori’s voice pleading out of the darkness.
He dashed towards her – and almost fell when he stumbled over a root or a rock. There was a strong draught blowing from somewhere above him.
‘I can’t see a thing!’
A glowing thread appeared in the darkness, emittting a weak, trembling glow.
‘What’s that?’ asked Fandorin, enchanted.
‘A yoshitsune,’ Midori replied impatiently. ‘A falcon’s feather, it has mercury in it. It doesn’t go out in the rain and wind. Come on! I’ll die of shame if I’m late!’
Now, with the light, it became clear that the underground passage had been equipped very thoroughly: the ceiling and walls were reinforced with bamboo, and there were wooden steps underfoot.
Struggling to keep up with Midori, Erast Petrovich barely looked around at all, but he did notice that every now and then there were branches running off the passage in both directions. It was an entire labyrinth. His guide ran on, turning several corners without slowing down for a moment. The titular counsellor was starting to feel exhausted from the long, steep uphill climb, but the slim figure ahead of him seemed incapable of tiring.
Eventually the steps came to an end and the passage narrowed again. The light went out, something creaked in the darkness and a grey rectangle opened up ahead, admitting the damp, fresh breath of the dawn.
Midori jumped down on to the ground. Following her example, Erast Petrovich discovered that he was clambering out of the trunk of an old, gnarled oak tree.
The secret door closed, and the vice-consul saw that it was absolutely impossible to make out its edges on the rough, moss-covered bark.
‘I’m too late!’ Midori exclaimed despairingly. ‘It’s all your fault!’
She darted forward into an open meadow where black silhouettes were moving about slowly. There was a smell of gunpowder and blood. Something long glinted in the morning twilight.
The barrel of the gun, Fandorin realised, looking more closely and then turning his head in all directions.
The underground passage led to the summit of the mountain. The ideal spot for a bombardment – Kamata must have chosen it in advance.
The skirmish was already over. And from the looks of things, it hadn’t lasted long. Pouring out of the passage, the shinobi had taken the Black Jackets by surprise, from behind.
Tamba was sitting on a stump in the middle of the clearing, smoking his pipe. The other ninja were bringing the dead to him. It was an eerie sight, like something out of the afterlife: silent shadows gliding in pairs above the mist that was creeping across the ground, lifting up the dead men (also black, but with white faces) by their arms and legs and laying them out in rows in front of their leader.
The titular counsellor counted: four rows with eight bodies in each, and another body started moving, this time a little one – no doubt the old bandit Kamata. Not one had escaped. Don Tsurumaki would never know what had happened to his brigade…
Shaken by this grim picture, Fandorin didn’t notice that Midori had come back to him. Her husky voice whispered right in his ear.
‘I was late anyway, and we hadn’t finished.’
A lithe arm slipped round his waist and pulled him back towards the entrance of the underground passage.
‘I shall go down in the history of jojutsu as a great pioneer,’ Midori whispered, pushing the titular counsellor into the hollow of the tree. ‘I’ve just had an idea for a very interesting composition. I shall call it “The Love of Two Moles”.’
Even lovelier
Than two flamingos’ loving -
The love of two moles.
THE NOCTURNAL MELDING OF THE WORLD
Tamba said:
‘I know a lot about you, you know little about me. From this there arises mistrust, mistrust produces misunderstanding, misunderstanding leads to mistakes. Ask me everything you wish to know, and I will answer.’
The two of them were sitting in the open clearing in front of the house and watching the sun rising from behind the plain, filling the world with a rosy glow. Tamba was smoking his little pipe, every now and then stuffing it with a new pinch of tobacco. Fandorin would gladly have smoked a cigar with him, but the box of excellent manilas had been left behind with the baggage, on the side of the crevice that divided the shinobi village from the rest of the world.