Read The Snow Empress: A Thriller for Free Online

stood their ground, and even though fright shone in their eyes, they drew their daggers.
    “Back off!” Sano ordered his men. “We need these people whether they want us here or not. Don’t hurt them!”
    He tried to appease the barbarians while the Rat frantically translated. Somehow, at last, the weapons went back into sheaths; tempers subsided.
    “Throw us on their mercy,” Sano instructed the Rat. “Tell them that unless they take us in, we’ll die.”
    The Rat spoke. This time, as the barbarians discussed what they’d heard, Hirata perceived resignation in their tones. Primitive though they might be, they didn’t lack human compassion, whatever their reason for wanting to chase off newcomers. They nodded, and the leader spoke to Sano.
    “”Come with us,“” the Rat said with a sigh. As he and the rest of Sano’s group followed the barbarians into the forest, he muttered, “I hope we won’t be sorry.”
    The barbarians led the way along a path that paralleled the coast. The trees screened the view of the ocean and served as a windbreak. Hirata was glad the natives had decided to cooperate. The farther he walked into Ezogashima, the stronger he felt its pulse, the more compellingly sounded its call.
    A clearing appeared in the forest, and Hirata saw what he first took to be huge, pointed mounds of snow. As he moved closer, he realized they were huts. Pungent wood smoke drifted up from chimney holes. Smaller outbuildings, some elevated on stilts and accessible by ladders, stood nearby. Hirata didn’t so much as hear voices inside the huts as feel conversation stop when he and his party approached. Thatch curtains lifted to reveal doorways. Barbarians peered out, gazing suspiciously at the strangers.
    Their escorts made straight for the largest hut at the center of the settlement. The leader entered for a brief time, then reemerged. He beckoned and spoke to Sano.
    “He says to come in,” the Rat said.
    The pull that the island exerted on Hirata was stronger near the hut. “Shall I go first and make sure it’s safe?” he asked Sano, who nodded. Hirata cautiously ducked under the thatched doorway curtain that the leader held up for him.
    He found himself in a cramped entryway, where he dusted the snow off his clothes and removed his boots. The leader ushered him under another thatch curtain and into a room filled with smoky, flickering orange light from a fire that burned in a square pit at the center. An Ezo sat near the pit, hands folded in his lap, on woven reed mats that covered the door. His long hair, mustache, and beard were white with old age, but his frame was strong, his posture erect. His hands and face were so weathered and deeply lined that he seemed made of gnarled wood. Silver hoops with dangling black beads pierced his ears. He wore a blue robe patterned with the same designs as on the other barbarians’ clothes. Hirata had assumed that the man who’d done the talking on the beach was their leader, but now he knew this man held the authority.
    His eyes, which scrutinized Hirata from beneath thick, white brows, reflected the firelight and gleamed with dignified, calm intelligence. As their gazes met, a thought flashed through Hirata’s mind.
    Meeting this man is crucial to my destiny.
    The Ezo inclined his body in a bow that indicated familiarity with Japanese manners. He spoke in a deep, resonant voice and spread his hands in a universal gesture of welcome.
    Hirata hesitated a moment, shaken by his revelation. Then he called through the doorway to Sano and his other comrades, who were waiting outside. “It’s all right.”
    Everyone crowded into the hut, knelt around the fire pit. The air steamed with the snow melting on their garments. Hirata sat on one side of their host, Sano on the other. Although Hirata was transfixed by the old barbarian, he hadn’t lost his samurai habit of always taking note of his environment. He tore his attention away from the Ezo long enough to glance