The Amtrack Wars - Earth Thunder Part 33

Including the driver, there were eight people on the cart, but no baggage. If a wheel had broken, any baggage would have been distributed among the other wagons - but why did it need eight people to watch a wheel being mended?

All of them were off the cart by the time the domain-lord reached it, and they all bowed. But one - a woman - did not bow as deeply as the others and ... the domain-lord bowed to her! Why was a person of high rank dressed in the drab outer garments of a servant-girl, and what was she doing here?

The mystery eclipsed all thoughts of the rich silk cloth that Shos.h.i.+ had been planning to buy at Fin. Running to another peephole, she caught a glimpse of the lanterns lighting up the pathway to the pavilions, then drew back nervously as several-pairs of feet tramped along the side verandah towards the rented accommodation at the rear of the inn.

Returning to the front of the inn, she peeked through the crack between the window shutters. The oxen were still harnessed to the cart, but they had been given nosebags.

Blankets now covered their steaming backs. The fact they were still in harness was a sign that the owner of the cart intended to use it again.

Soon. It was not part of the baggage-train. Shos.h.i.+ would have dearly loved to go and wake Inazo the gate-keeper to discover what he had seen and heard, but one of Min-Orota's men was still patrolling the yard, and she could just see the silhouette of a second stationed on the verandah.

With a sigh of frustration, she gave up. Her husband, having placed the bag of gold coins under the floorboards, was already in bed.

Shos.h.i.+ joined him, shook his shoulder until she had gained his reluctant attention and related what she had seen. Her story failed to rouse his interest.

'If whoever she is, is here for what you think she's here for, you can find out all about it in the morning."

'Yes, but - ' 'Goodnight,' he said firmly. And for once, to his amazement, she lapsed into silence. Normally, she never stopped.

During the day, he got some respite because her attention was directed towards their domestic staff, but in bed she had him cornered - and that was when she usually got her way. He was glad to say 'yes' to almost anything just to get some peace and quiet.

From past experience, the inn-keeper knew the heavy silence meant she was staring at the ceiling, and that in due course he would pay for his temerity. It didn't matter, his unexpected good fortune had given him a new boldness and more interesting things to think about.

He closed his eyes and picked up the thread of the agreeable fantasy he had been weaving. The idea of setting up a house of pleasure had been abandoned in favour of a more practical but equally appealing scenario.

He would re-tile the roof and build a new bathhouse in which, given a bit of luck, he could tumble his two favourite serving-girls, while one'of the gardeners took his place on the cart and drove his chattering jackdaw of a wife on the monthly trip to the market in Fin.

When Lady Mis.h.i.+ko had changed back into her own clothes, Lord Min-Orota obtained her permission to dismiss her servants. As they and her guards were led away to wait at the inn, Kiyo invited her to be seated, and took his place on the mat facing her.

After the usual exchange of courtesies he said: 'Mi'lady, you honour me with your presence. It is a gesture of the trust and friends.h.i.+p that exists between us and which, for my part, I have always treasured. In these dark days, trust is a rare and precious commodity.

But let us delay no further. I promised you news of the Herald, Tos.h.i.+ro Hase-Gawa, and you shall have it. But not from my lips."

He saw the look of puzzlement and explained: 'Just as the Fates drew your life and mine together through the appointment of your late husband as Consul-General to my domain, my path here was crossed by two strange individuals who told me they had a message for you...

from beyond the veil."

Lady Mis.h.i.+ko caught her breath. '... beyond the veil?"

'Yes. They are spirit-witches. I do not know what they have to tell you, or how they knew that my steps were directed towards the Winter Palace, but they are here at the behest of the Herald."

Mis.h.i.+ko clasped her hands together over her heart.

'Mi'lord, if this is true, no words could express my happiness, but can they be trusted? I could not lightly forgive any charlatan who played so cruel a trick on me."

Min-Orota answered with a polite bow. 'Nor would I, mi'lady. Set your mind at rest. I can vouch for the wondrous power of their magic, but as to what or who they are I cannot say, for they can change their shape and the nature of the world around us in the twinkling of an eye!" The existence of spirit-witches had never been properly established, but the widespread belief in their supernatural powers was older than Ne-Issan itself. Tales of magic and witchcraft were rooted in the primeval mists that shrouded the birth of The World Before.

Spirit-witches were able to communicate with and conjure up the souls of the dead. They dwelt in the depths of the forests which still covered huge areas of Ne-Issan, and they were popularly believed to be grey-faced shadowy figures dressed in a mixture of leaves and rags remnants of clothes stripped from the rotting corpses of the unburied dead. And it was said they were hunch-backed, long-haired crones, with shrivelled claw-like hands, and green red-rimmed eyes that stared out of hideous faces covered with warts.

Mis.h.i.+ko gathered up her courage. 'Are they. are they dreadful to look upon?"

Min-Orota threw up his hands. 'You will see whatever they wish you to see, mi'lady! I can only say they have never shown themselves to me as the ghostly grey-faced creatures that are said to disturb the sleep of travellers in the forest when the moon is full. In my opinion, if those wraiths were ever caught by the light of day, they would turn out to be ronin - common cutthroats with artfully-applied hollow eyes and bodies dusted with chalk!

'Be a.s.sured. Our visitors know you to be a cultured and sensitive person who still mourns the pa.s.sing of a loved-one. They are here to guide you, not to frighten you and, above all, they come at the bidding of the Herald."

Mis.h.i.+ko composed herself. 'I understand, mi'lord. I am ready. Take me to them."

They stood up together. Min-Orota said: 'They are in the next room, but before we enter, allow me to offer one last word of rea.s.surance. I cannot remain with you for what you are to see is for your eyes alone.

If at any time you find yourself transported by their powers to another place, do not fear for your safety. I shall be here, on this side of the screen, just a few paces away from you at all times. You have but to call and I will come immediately to your aid."

Mis.h.i.+ko accepted this with a regal nod. Kiyo Min-Orota slid the framed wall-panel aside and ushered her into the darkened room beyond.

Mis.h.i.+ko allowed herself to be guided to a mat edged with silk ribbon, and sank gracefully into the straight-backed kneeling position that all n.o.blewomen were required to adopt - sometimes for hours - during formal court ceremonies; heels splayed wide under the b.u.t.tocks, hands laid midway along the top of the thighs, with fingers and thumb closed.

Min-Orota bowed then withdrew, sliding the wall panel shut behind him.

On the floor in front of Mis.h.i.+ko were two hooded lanterns which threw light onto her, but left the other half of the room in deep shadow.

Between the lanterns was a charcoal brazier. This was also half-covered. Behind it were two seated figures, one notably taller than the others. The spirit-witches ....

The arrangement of the lights and the glow from the brazier made it impossible to make out their features.

Their heads and bodies were reduced to black silhouettes that were only just visible against the darkness beyond.

Roz studied Mis.h.i.+ko intently as Cadillac addressed her in a throaty whisper. 'Please accept our humble greetings your highness. We have been directed towards you by the restless spirit of the Herald, Tos.h.i.+ro HaseGawa.

Betrayed by his master, deprived of his life before your love for each other was fully consummated, he cannot leave the Valley of Death for the Heavenly Plains beyond until he has made his peace with you. Will you speak to him?"

'Yes, I will,' replied Mis.h.i.+ko in a barely audible whisper.

'Then open your heart and mind to receive him, for his spirit draws nigh .... ' Roz, who had been gently delving into Mis.h.i.+ko's memory for the images she needed, took control of her mind.

Cadillac, sitting next to Roz, prepared himself to share the same hallucinatory experience, but he was no longer totally imprisoned within it as he had been during their first double act at Sioux Falls.

Although he was not linked to her telepathically the way Steve was, he possessed formidable mental powers of his own and he had succeeded in tuning his mind onto the same wavelength as hers.

This enabled him to 'see' the images that Roz was feeding into the minds of their adversaries without being trapped, as they were, in the 'reality' of the experience.

So when Lady Mis.h.i.+ko recoiled as a cloud of pale grey smoke spilled out of the charcoal brazier and began to weave itself into a vaguely human form, Cadillac saw the smoke and the emerging figure as a semitransparent image superimposed on the room as it really was.

Lady Mis.h.i.+ko stared at the forms emerging from the s.h.i.+fting layers of smoke that continued to rise from the glowing brazier. It carried the scent of burning autumn leaves, but it was not the kind of smoke that stung the eyes or made you cough. It was not smoke at all. This was the Veil; the mysterious curtain that separated the world of the living from the world inhabited by the souls of the dead - and her beloved Herald was being drawn back through it by the power of her love and the magic of the spirit-witches.

An unseen external power drew her to her feet as the darkened room and the black shapes of the two witches faded away.

The scents of autumn, the rustle of golden leaves underfoot were an integral part of her first encounter with the Herald. Their lives had converged on a sunlit October afternoon, while she was walking through the woods that formed part of her husband's official estate.

Tos.h.i.+ro, resplendent in his black and crimson armour, with the house-flags of the Toh-Yota and HaseGawa fluttering from their back-staffs, had been on his way to present his seals of office to the Consul-General.