Poor girl, he thought. He reached up to his shoulder and touched her cheek. It was the scarred side. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, felt her arm go over him. He saw the cabin then, when he shut his eyes. Saw her in the morning, in that damned over-sized shirt, with the water-bucket, trudging up the hill. . . .
"M'lord!" someone hissed, and Shoka came out of sleep toward twilight, Taizu waking, the man saying something about riders coming.
"How many?" he snapped back.
"Five, six—"
"Then take care of it, dammit!" He rubbed his eyes and got to one knee in the dusk. "Dammit, where's my armor!" Petulantly, because his throat had made it come out that way.
"It's over here, master Shoka." Taizu, on her hands and knees. As horses came nearer and men rode into their midst.
And bowstrings sang, one, two, a dozen.
Bodies hitting the ground. Shoka groped after his sword. But it was over. Lord Reidi's men caught the horses. Shoka stumbled to his feet and walked over to the scattering of bodies, kicked at one. Through the neck. That man was not talking.
Nor were the others. Lord Reidi's men were elated, having proven themselves formidable, he reckoned. At least none of them had gotten away.
Sometimes he was sick at his stomach at something like this. At the moment he was still muzzy with sleep and wishing he had not gotten up so quickly and wishing it were not indecent to ask for a cup of something hot at such a juncture. "It's all right, it's all right," he said to a nervous lord Reidi. "None of them raised a fuss."
Raised a fuss, my gods. I want to go home, that's all. I want the mountain, I want Taizu and me and Jiro, there, safe, tomorrow morning.
The sun and the moon and the stars while I'm at it.
Damn, I want my own porch and my spring and the view out the front door. . . .
He walked back and sat down to put on his shin-guards, his own armor this time, fitted to him, not the mercenary's rig—while lord Reidi followed him up chattering about the necessity of getting underway, of his fears of discovery, about the risk they were running.
Yes, m'lord, no, m'lord, hell if you don't know your choices by now, my lord. . . .
"Send some of your younger men out," Shoka said, "if there's any reasonable chance of them making it. Hell with the pigeons. Have them spread the word where it counts most, in person, where they can answer questions and give assurances, and hope your allies are committed to this."
Lord Reidi went to do that.
He tied the cords about and put on the armor-sleeves. Taizu was there to help him with the body-armor. Not a word from her, not a complaint, only a grim, jaw-clenched calm.
He took her by the arm, said, close to her ear: "Are you all right, girl?"
"I'm fine." Tight, between the teeth.
He put the arm about her, held onto her a moment, scared for her, scared for himself.
"Plan your retreat," she said into his ear. "Plan your retreat, isn't that right?"
"Damn good advice. I couldn't think of better. Wish to hell we had the men to leave for a garrison."
Then speed . . . speed and silence, in lieu of numbers. . . .
They were on the road by dark, and with a good string of remounts, thanks to the mercenaries on this side and that of the river. No stopping, Shoka had decreed. The handful of lads Reidi had picked had gone out, with Shoka's instructions in their ears, a good half hour in front of them, but none of them to Choedri.
"We'll deliver that message ourselves," Shoka said.
Chapter Sixteen
The stars were dimming, the sky eastward appearing to darken over the low hills when they reached the ford at the Tei—"Damnable thing about roads and rivers," Shoka muttered to Taizu as they rode, "roads go to fords and fords are where your enemies can find you. I don't look for that kind of luck twice."
"It'll work again," Taizu said, "no reason it shouldn't."
He hoped so. Privately he placed much of his hope in the handful of young riders that had gone out from their company west to Jendei in Hainan, to Maijun in Feiyan, and east to the lords of Sengu and Mendang and Taiyi, at Mandi on the Chaighin, along the river road. There were three of them, going fast in that direction, one more speeding back to Keido to put Reidi's lady Aio current of the situation, for her to send messages with her birds, one more on to certain friends in Mura and Hua and one straight north to Kiang, to the farthest reaches of the Empire. Multiple of everything, an agreement to duplicate all messages, because there was no guarantee of any single message getting through, whether it came on horseback or by air.
But if they did nothing else—the lads with their fast riding and their dodging through the back roads might convince an enemy that two fugitives on horseback had gone any of a half dozen directions; while a large, noisy band of motley-clad riders going right down the roads might, the gods willing, be mistaken for one of the mercenaries' own companies.
Keep moving, move fast, keep the enemy thinking while their situation changed by the hour.
Run the horses to the safe limit, change the remounts through the company, change the light and the heavy riders, walk and cool down, gather breath and go again. . . . He and Taizu traded oftenest, for Jiro's sake, the old fellow loping along with no more burden than his tack for most of this night, but he had come the farthest and he was the oldest.
Damn sure he was not riding the old lad when they hit the ford, a belly-deep wade and a muddy climb to the shore, up among the trees.
"What company?" a voice shouted out of the dark above them.
"Aghi," Taizu hissed to him; and: "Aghi!" he shouted out, with no idea in the gods' creation whether that was a valid name. "New hire, up from Hoisan! What's your company?"
In case anyone wanted answers they might not know.
A long pause. Then: "One of you come up," the watcher shouted down. "Afoot!"
"What's your company?"
"Don't!" Taizu hissed at him, "don't go up there."
As the answer came down: "Sachi's!"
"Is that valid?" he asked Taizu.
"Don't go up there!"
"Shut up. If you come up anywhere near the head of the column I'll loosen your teeth for you. —All right. I'm coming." He climbed down from the saddle, handed his reins to Reidi's captain and said, "When you hear me shout, come up that slope like thunder."
He left the captain with the horse's reins as if the captain were his servant: but it gave him the chance for a word.
"What's the delay down there?" the watcher shouted.
"I'm coming up."
Now he felt his heart beating faster. Not fear yet, just that things sharpened their outlines around him, memories of this road ten years ago, how it turned, if he had not confused it with others like it, if floods and time had not changed it: bend to the right and the left and the trees up there.
He walked it, finding the turns what he remembered, a winding climb among trees. Archers, he thought, and hoped Taizu believed him.
He saw the shadow of men ahead of him, subtle sheen of ambient light on metal.
"What captain, before Aghi?"
"I'm captain of this company. And damned if I stand here playing riddle-games in the dark. I'm on orders, I've got my pass, and you'd damn well better have yours handy, son, and mind your mouth with me, I'm short of sleep and too damn long in the saddle to put up with some ass no-rank who wants to play games with me!"