'Chocho?' Arisaka shouted, goaded beyond control. 'Butterfly? Then die, Butterfly!'
He leaped forward, the katana rising for a lethal strike at the unarmed foreigner. But then Will's right arm shot forward from beneath his cloak and he stepped forward with his right leg, going into a crouch as he released the saxe knife in an underarm throw.
A spinning pinwheel of light, it flashed towards the charging Arisaka, hitting him above the breastplate of his armour, below his chin, and burying itself in his throat.
The impact of the heavy blade jerked Arisaka's head back. He felt the katana drop from his suddenly slack fingers, felt hot blood gushing from the huge wound. Then he felt…nothing.
Will straightened from his crouch as Shigeru stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
'It seems he mistook a butterfly for a wasp,' the Emperor said.
The farewells had been said, for the most part. Will, Halt, Selethen and the two girls were already on board Wolfwill. The ship lay with its bow beached on the sand, at the cove where the Araluan party had originally come ashore. Gundar and his men had spent a relatively comfortable winter on the offshore island, although Gundar had been sorry to hear that he had missed an epic battle. But there had been plenty of fish and shellfish in the cold waters, and a good supply of game onshore. Now, like their passengers, the Skandians were eager to turn the ship towards home waters.
Only Horace remained on the beach, standing facing the Emperor, dwarfing the smaller man. Tears formed in the young warrior's eyes now that the time had come to say goodbye. In the months that had passed, he realised he had come to love this brave and unselfish ruler, to respect his unwavering sense of justice and his unfailing good humour. He knew he would miss Shigeru's deep rumbling chuckle – a sound so massive that he always wondered how it came from such a small frame.
Now, faced with the moment of leaving, there was an enormous lump in his throat, a lump that blocked the many words he wanted to say.
Shigeru stepped forward and embraced him. He knew how much he owed to the young man. He knew how Horace's courage, resolve and loyalty had sustained him and his small band of followers throughout the difficult and dangerous weeks when they were escaping from Arisaka. He remembered how Horace had stepped forward unhesitatingly to take Shukin's place when his cousin had died at Arisaka's hand.
The two Rangers, of course, had done a great service for him with their innovative tactics and battle plans, as had the dark-skinned, hawk-nosed Arridi warrior. And Evanlyn and Alyss, by their courage and initiative, had been the instruments that saved his throne, bringing the mighty Hasanu army to his rescue. He was grateful to them all.
But without Kurokuma, none of them would have been here. Without Kurokuma, Arisaka would now be Emperor.
'Shigeru…' Horace managed one word, then, choked with emotion, he stepped back from the older man's embrace, his head lowered, his cheeks running with tears.
Shigeru patted the muscular arm. 'Parting is hard, Kurokuma. But you and I will always be together. Just look into your mind and heart and you'll find me there. I will never forget you. I will never forget that I owe you everything.'
'I…I don't…' Horace could manage no more, but Shigeru knew what he was trying to say.
'I wish you could stay with us, my son. But your own country and your own king need you.'
Horace nodded, overwhelmed by the sense of conflicting loyalties. Shigeru couldn't have picked a more compelling form of address than to call Horace 'son'. Horace had grown up an orphan, deprived of a father's love and guidance from an early age. Then Shigeru smiled and spoke in a lower voice, so that nobody else could hear.
'And I believe that a certain young princess has need of you too. Take good care of her. She is a jewel beyond price.'
Horace raised his tear-reddened eyes to meet Shigeru's. He managed a faint smile in return. 'She certainly is that,' he agreed.
'We'll see each other again. I know that in my heart. You know you will always be welcome here in Nihon-Ja. You are one of us.'
Horace nodded. 'I will come back one day,' he said. 'That's a definite promise. And maybe you could travel to Araluen.'
Shigeru pursed his lips. 'Yes. But perhaps not for a while. I think I need to stay here until matters are stabilised,' he said. 'But who knows? If there were an important occasion of state – a high-ranking wedding, perhaps?'
He left the thought open and again they shared a conspirators' smile. Then he reached into the wide sleeve of his robe and produced a small scroll, tied with black silk ribbon. He handed it to Horace.
'In the meantime, remember me by this. A token of my friendship.'
Horace took the scroll. He hesitated, then Shigeru gestured for him to open it. It was fine linen paper, and on it, painted in the stylised, deceptively simple strokes that typified fine Nihon-Jan art, was a rendition of a bear, depicted in the act of catching a salmon at a waterfall. It was a fascinating piece, with only the barest of detail inked in. Yet somehow, the viewer's eye was led to provide the missing lines and features, creating a complete and comprehensive illustration. The more Horace looked, the more the bear seemed to become alive. The more he could see the water flowing around him. All accomplished with a few masterly brush strokes on the linen.
'You painted this?' he said, noting the small rendition of three cherries in the bottom left-hand corner.
Shigeru bowed his head in acknowledgement. 'It's a little crude. But it was done with love.'
Horace slowly rolled the linen up, replaced the ribbon, and placed it safely in the breast of his jacket.
'It's a true treasure,' he said. 'I will keep it always.'
'Then I am content,' Shigeru said.
Horace spread his hands in an awkward gesture. He hadn't thought to find a gift for Shigeru.
'I have nothing to give you…' he began. But the Emperor held up one graceful forefinger to silence him.
'You gave me my country,' he said simply.
They faced each other for a long moment. There were no more words. From the ship, they heard Halt call, his voice a little apologetic for the intrusion.
'Horace. Gundar says the tide is falling. Or rising. Whatever it's doing, we have to be on our way.'
His tone was gentle. He had watched his young friend and Shigeru and he sensed they had reached the awkward point that comes in all farewells – when there is nothing further to say, yet neither person wants to be the one to make the final move, to break the bond between them. When someone or something needs to give them the impetus to part.
'I've got to go,' Horace said huskily.
Shigeru nodded. 'Yes.'
Briefly, they embraced once more, careful not to crumple the scroll inside Horace's jacket. Then the tall young warrior turned abruptly and ran up the boarding ladder. His feet had barely touched the deck when the crew hauled the ladder aboard and began poling the ship clear of the beach, turning its bow to the open sea. Horace moved to the stern, his hand raised in farewell. On the beach, Shigeru mirrored the gesture.
The ebbing tide took hold of the wolfship, pulling it swiftly away from the beach while the crew hoisted the triangular sail. Then, as the yard was braced around, the sail filled and the rudder began to bite as Gundar set a course to weather the headland. Horace remained in the stern, watching the figure on the shore grow increasingly smaller. After several minutes, Evanlyn moved to stand with him, slipping her arm around his waist.
Impulsively, Will went to join them, intending to add his support and comfort to Evanlyn's. But Alyss caught his arm and stopped him.