'No, ma'am."

'Thank you, captain. Do not let me detain you further."

The steam engine deep in the bowels of the junk resumed its regular beat and soon afterwards, the three-bladed bra.s.s screw beneath the stern began to drive the junk towards the channel between the long sandbars.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the navy patrol ship signalled the junk to drop anchor landwards of a group of small islands in what was once known as Great South Bay, Long Island. With the sh.o.r.eline beginning to merge with the blackening sky, the small port of Bei-shura, which lay about four miles to the north-west, was just visible as an untidy cl.u.s.ter of dim yellow-orange lights. The Iron Masters had no organised system for illuminating their towns and villages. When darkness fell, most people retired to the safety of their houses and locked themselves up for the night.

During this period, Lady Mishiko went off to spend some time with her three children and their nurse, and two of her servants brought trays of food down to Cadillac and Roz.

By the time Mishiko returned, the junk was riding at anchor in the bay.

Five other vessels of varying size were moored nearby. With heavy clouds covering the night sky, it was too dark to see them clearly, but their positions could be identified by the red and green lanterns hung amidships and the white lights hung from bow and stern.

The patrol vessel off their portside had almost its whole deck illuminated by a string of lanterns. The cannon mounted along the starboard side could be seen clearly in the overlapping pools of light.

The muzzles were all aimed at the junk, and the gunners were stationed nearby. Other sea-soldiers, armed with crossbows and long-barrelled rifles with revolver-type magazines, took turns to march slowly back and forth around the edge of the deck.

In a cabin now lit by four rose-coloured lanterns, Roz watched patiently from the sidelines as Cadillac and Mishiko had another long discussion. The captain was sent for, and appeared carrying a rolled map. This was examined by all three in some detail. An agreement was reached. The discussion ended with the usual exchange of bows, the captain left, then Cadillac signalled Roz to follow him out of the room for another private head-to-head.

'Okay, here's the situation. You and I don't have any papers. Now you might be able to magic our way round that, but only if they allow us into harbour. They could keep us stuck out here in the bay until Ieyasu and the Shogun have come and gone.

'Mishiko doesn't know why they're coming to AronGiren, but because the journey's been made in secret and the rest of the court has been left behind, she thinks they'll only be here for a few days at the smost.

And according to Min-Orota, they're due the day after tomorrow.

'With so many unknowns, we have to be inside the Palace by tomorrow morning. That'll give us twenty-four hours to set everything up the way we've planned - or make alternative arrangements. That means we've got to leave within the next hour."

'How?"

'We've done a deal with the captain. Or, to be more precise, Mishiko has. In return for a bag of gold pieces, he's going to let us take one of the junk's long-boats. It'll be a tight fit, but we should manage to squeeze everybody in. The plan is to row up the coast and land on a beach directly south of the Summer Palace. The Palace itself is about nine miles inland."

'And how far is it from here to the beach?" asked Roz.

'About sixteen miles."

Roz pulled off her mask. 'You're planning to row sixteen miles with a boatful of people in the dark? Pulling on those long paddle-things?"

'Oars. There are six of them, and we do have a sail. It will take us about four hours to travel up the coast, then another two to three hours to reach the Palace and get inside. With over ten hours left to first light we should make it easily."

'You're crazy. I saw those boats when we came on board. There won't be room to move. Anyway, why go in one, when there are two of them?"

'The starboard long-boat is the only one we can lower without drawing attention to ourselves. If we row east-north-east - which is the direction we want to go - we'll be hidden from the patrol ship by the hull of the junk.

After that we'll be swallowed up in the darkness."

Cadillac saw the doubt in her eyes. 'It's not as crazy as it sounds.

The captain says that in a little while we'll be on an ebb-tide. That means the current will be flowing away from the land and out to sea- '

'Ohh, great!" 'Let me finish! The sand-bar we pa.s.sed on the way in runs all the way along the coast past the spot we're aiming for. Since we're inside the bar, the current will carry us more or less parallel to the sh.o.r.eline. We'll be rowing with it, rather than against it."

As a first-time sailor, Roz found this difficult to grasp.

'And that will make a difference?"

'Yeah. Like the difference between rolling a large stone downhill and trying to roll it uphill."

'Okay. a.s.suming we survive the trip, how do we get into the Palace without being seen?"

'Leave that to me." The cool, clear voice, with its clipped p.r.o.nunciation, took them completely by surprise.

Cadillac turned on his heel, covering Roz as she hurriedly put on her face-mask. Lady Mishiko stood in the doorway. How long had she been there?

'I did not know you could speak the language of the long-dogs,' said Mishiko.

'Nor we you,' replied Cadillac. 'We decided to converse in this strange tongue to avoid alarming you while we expressed our fears for the outcome of this journey."

His reply drew a laugh from Mishiko. 'Can witches as powerful as you be frightened?"

'Very easily, your highness,' said Roz. 'Our magic requires careful preparation and the accurate casting of silent spells. If our minds are not completely attuned to the spirit world and the magic powers it contains, we are as vulnerable as any other mortal creature."

Mishiko's eyes opened wide as they fastened onto Roz's masked face.

Cadillac realised it was the first time that Roz had uttered a sound in her presence.

They had gotten this far by convincing Mishiko they were j.a.p spirit-witches and it was vital to maintain that illusion. He had to move in and kill this conversation before Roz was caught off guard by a chance remark by Mishiko in her own language. If she discovered Roz's vocabulary consisted of less than three dozen words and that her accent was atrocious, it could ruin everything.

He switched over to j.a.panese.

'We are but vessels, your highness. The power comes to us from beyond The Veil. What we have done, and will do, is made possible by the strength of the love that flows between you and the Herald and which binds you together with a force that can never be broken asunder!'

'Then your power is a.s.sured, for my love for HaseGawa grows stronger every day."

'And will never die .... ' Cadillac switched back to Basic. 'With your permission, I will speak for a while in the long-dog tongue to my companion. We need to acquire a certain fluency if our plans to help you avenge the Herald's death are to succeed."

'Then pray continue."

The cash that was the key element in securing the captain's cooperation came from a small chest full of gold coins. In Ne-Issan all high-ranking persons carried hefty amounts of money with them to buy their way out of trouble while travelling from A to B and Mishiko was no exception. That was why road convoys were attractive targets for ronin. The fact that they might be heavily protected only added to the excitment.

While the captain was stashing away his golden handshake, the crew-members on the night-watch were swiftly overpowered, bound and gagged, and carried into one of the cabins. The hatches and companionways were battened down to prevent the rest of the crew getting into the act, then the captain supervised the lowering of the starboard longboat.

Before being gagged, he insisted on receiving a blow to the head which would draw blood - and thus lend credence to his story - but which, he devoutly hoped, would not prove fatal.

One of Mishiko's guards obliged.

Roz had not believed it was possible to lower the boat without it being noticed by the sea-soldiers pacing back and forth along the deck of the nearby patrol ship. Her imagination had magnified the squeaks and groans from ropes and pulleys into piercing shrieks and shuddering thunderclaps of sound that - to her mind were guaranteed to rouse the crews of the surrounding vessels from the deepest of slumbers.

But there had been no challenge, no warning rifle shot or cannonade.

Just the whistling sigh of a light breeze through the rigging, the quiet creak of stressed wooden joints and beams, and the constant lapping of waves against the hull.