Now it was Selethen's turn. His goju, in two ranks, swung in a left wheel, then surged forward at a brisk jog to fall on the rear of the Senshi attacking Horace's redeployed second rank.
Caught between hammer and anvil, there was little hope for the Senshi. Confused, bewildered, facing a new enemy and a totally unfamiliar form of fighting, they turned and ran, for the second time that day. They ran past their own camp, heading in panic for the distant encampment where Arisaka's main army were still unaware of what had just happened.
Only now there were pitifully few of them running. The vast majority remained on the battlefield, unmoving.
With one exception. A stocky figure remained, clad in ornate and expensive leather armour – armour that bore the symbol of a green ox.
Maddened with rage and shame, Todoki had emerged from behind the screen of warriors who had surrounded him. Alone now, he advanced on the silent ranks of Kikori. He could see a tall figure among them and he remembered stories of the gaijin warrior who had befriended Shigeru. He stood now and screamed abuse and insults at the figure, who slowly stepped forward from the ranks of his goju.
Horace's grasp of Nihon-Jan wasn't sufficiently advanced to understand the insults that Todoki's tortured rage was conjuring up but the meaning was obvious.
'That doesn't sound good,' he said quietly to himself as a stream of imprecations was hurled at him.
'Horace!' Will called from his vantage point, but Horace half turned and made a placating gesture in his direction.
'It's all right, Will. I'm tired of this person.'
His sword hissed out of its scabbard and he turned back to face Todoki. With a scream of rage and hate, the enemy general charged towards him.
Todoki had seen the long, straight gaijin sword. He knew something about those foreign weapons. They were made from inferior steel and he knew that his own katana, forged by one of the finest swordsmiths in Nihon-Ja, would slice through the foreign weapon if he struck hard enough.
Disdaining the grace and balance that went into a normal cutting stroke, he opted for brute strength and put every ounce of his power and weight behind his blow. With a huge cry, he smashed his blade into the foreigner's.
There was a shrieking clang as the two blades met. Todoki's eyes widened in horror as he realised that the gaijin's sword was undamaged. It had withstood his stroke. Off balance from the excessive effort he had put into it, he staggered slightly and his guard dropped.
Horace lunged, stamping his right foot forward then driving with his shoulder and suddenly straightened arm to give maximum impetus to the thrust. He aimed for the gap at the top of Todoki's hardened breastplate, where only a screen of softer leather protected the warrior's throat.
He hit his mark, and the Nihon-Jan forged blade sliced easily through the thin barrier.
Todoki's eyes, startled, still unable to understand what had happened to him this day, stared at Horace for a second from above the half-buried sword blade.
Then they clouded and all sign of life left them as the rebel general sagged to the rocky ground at his feet. Horace freed his sword and turned away, finding himself facing the men of the two gojus. The Kikori warriors – for now they truly were warriors – raised their short swords in the air to acclaim him. One voice began the chant, and within seconds, a hundred of them were echoing it.
'Kurokuma! Kurokuma! Kurokuma!'
Horace waved tiredly to acknowledge them. Selethen stepped forward to greet him, smiling broadly. They embraced, then, surrounded by their cheering, chanting Kikori troops, they walked together to where Will, Halt and Shigeru waited.
'I'd still like to know how he got that name,' Will said.
Shigeru turned to him. For once, when he was discussing Horace's nickname, his face bore no trace of amusement.
'However he got it,' he said, 'it truly is a term of great respect.'
Alyss finished lashing the last branch into position and inspected the rough platform she had constructed in the fork of the tree.
'That should do it,' she said. The platform of sturdy branches was approximately two metres by two metres, giving ample room for Alyss and Evanlyn to sit and await the mysterious predator that lurked in Uto Forest.
They were deep in the forest, at a site where four of the Hasanu had been taken by the predator – known to the Hasanu people as Kyofu, or the Terror.
Evanlyn, on the ground four metres below, looked around nervously. The sun was setting and it would soon be dark – and the Terror was known to hunt at night. It was one thing to sit in Nimatsu's castle and be critical of the Hasanu's superstitious fears, quite another to stand here in the snow, with the shadows lengthening and the gloomy forest surrounding them. While it had still been full daylight, Evanlyn had gone about the task of collecting branches for the platform without a qualm. But her last foray, which took her further from the site they had selected, had been in the lengthening shadows of early evening and she had found herself glancing fearfully over her shoulder as she worked, her nerves jumping at the slightest of forest sounds.
'Drop me the rope,' she called. 'I'm coming up.'
'Just a moment.' Alyss stood slowly and moved to the centre of the platform. Stepping with extreme care, she tested its strength, making sure the lashed branches were strong enough to bear her weight. Eventually satisfied, she moved to the edge and kicked the coil of knotted rope off the platform, sending it down through the branches to the waiting princess. Evanlyn clambered up the rope hand over hand, moving with slightly undignified haste. Once she was settled high in the fork of the tree, she pulled the rope up and coiled it again, then found a spot to make herself comfortable – although 'comfortable', on this rough platform, was a relative term.
Alyss grinned at her. 'Worried the Terror might climb up after you?'
Evanlyn regarded her coldly and didn't answer. That was exactly what she was worried about.
Darkness stole through the forest and the two girls sat, cold and uncomfortable, on the platform. The only sound they heard was the snuffling and complaining of the young pig they had tied to a nearby tree. The pig was bait, designed to bring the Terror out of hiding. Once that happened, Alyss hoped to kill the Terror, whatever it was, with the two lightweight spears that lay beside her. She had borrowed them from the Hasanu. It had taken her a while to find weapons light enough for her to handle, but eventually she settled on practice weapons, designed for children. She was a competent hand with the javelin and, of course, Evanlyn had her sling and a supply of heavy, egg-shaped lead shot.
'Bit hard on the pig,' Evanlyn said quietly.
'You can change places with it any time you like,' Alyss told her.
'What do you think it is – the Terror, I mean?'
'Some large predator, as Nimatsu suggested. A bear, perhaps. There are bears in this area. And he did say there's evidence that there were snow tigers here many years ago. Maybe it's one of them.'
'It's never been seen or heard. That doesn't sound like any bear I've ever known,' Evanlyn remarked.
Alyss looked at her sidelong. 'Known many bears?'
Evanlyn had to grin.
'Anyway, one thing I'm sure of,' Alyss continued, 'is that it's not a demon from another world. Now be quiet.'
She gestured for Evanlyn to get some rest while she stood guard. Evanlyn lay down on the uneven, knobbly branches and squirmed around to find the most comfortable spot. She closed her eyes but it took a while for sleep to claim her. Her nerves were tensed to a fine pitch as she listened to the soughing of the light breeze through the trees, the soft flutter of a night-flying bird's wing and the dozen or so unidentifiable sounds of nocturnal animals or insects that drifted among the trees.
She seemed to have been dozing for only a few minutes when Alyss's hand on her arm woke her.