Bridge of Swords (17 page)

‘You have spent the last few days telling me none of them are true! If you travel south, you will wander forever and find nothing,’ she said forcefully, delighting in the way everyone was hanging on her words. Usually people just stared at her face, or legs. This was so much better! Having been robbed of her voice for so many years, finding it was almost as inspiring as the applause after a performance.

Sendatsu shivered at the thought of wandering, unable to find what he needed to get home. ‘Fine. I shall stay within Vales then …’

‘But Vales will be gone soon. And the knowledge you seek will be gone with it. Already King Ward’s men have come here and snuffed out a candle of knowledge. Imagine what they are doing across Vales. Men and women like Huw’s father, who hold the answers you seek, are being hunted down and slaughtered. You will wander Vales hopelessly.’

‘Then I shall just have to race the Forlish to find them first,’ Sendatsu said defiantly, hiding his fear she was right.

‘But you don’t know where the information is, nor where the Forlish will strike next. And you are an elf — you will just be swamped by the people. They won’t listen to your questions because they want your magic. They will surround you and drown you in requests to save their sick children, or bless their elfbolts, or tell you what you already know. You could be in the right village but you will never learn their secrets.’

Sendatsu said nothing. He had seen that happen too many times already. He did not understand these Velsh — and they certainly did not understand him.

‘You need a pair of guides to take you around. We can bring you to the right villages, protect you from the people and help you find what you seek. In return, all you have to do is help the people protect themselves.’

‘But we can’t spend days and weeks at the one village …’ Sendatsu warned feebly. Rhiannon’s argument was hard to fight against, although the thought of these people relying on him, of taking on a leadership role, was terrifying. Almost as bad as wandering helplessly across Vales, unable to return to Mai and Cheijun. If they could really help him …

Rhiannon hid her smile. His objections had changed and she knew she all but had him.

‘We told you before. The Velsh can work like nothing you have seen. The villages will be protected in a day or two and you can move on to the next.’

‘But only until I have the information I seek. Only until I get my answers,’ Sendatsu insisted. Talk of days made him feel sick inside. He wanted to go home now — but his troubles would not end with simply walking back into Dokuzen. The fight would begin there.

‘As soon as you get what you need, you can return to Dokuzen — although I would ask that you at least tell your leaders of our plight, and what they might face from the Forlish,’ Huw added his voice to Rhiannon’s.

Sendatsu was torn. Half of him said this was a mistake, he should leave now, see what he could find on his own. Yet what if this was the best way? Rhiannon’s words about the other villages not helping him were hauntingly real.

‘We’ll give it a try,’ he said finally. ‘But I will need a bath in exchange.’

‘This is like finding a maggot in a cauldron of rice,’ Hanto grumbled.

His two companions said nothing. They had learned silence was the best way to deal with the angry Council Guard. Silence — and instant obedience. They had faced the uncertainty of travelling through the magical barrier without flinching, had walked into a tree without knowing they would walk out the other side intact — but travelling with Hanto was far more dangerous.

‘We can’t reveal our presence here and yet the humans would be the only ones who might know where that accursed Sendatsu has gone. What are we to do?’

His companions exchanged nervous glances. This was a question they could not ignore. Their clan leader, Jaken, had ordered them to do whatever Hanto said and warned them they must succeed or suffer an eternity of pain at his hands. The bigger of the two, Jin, cleared his throat.

‘Perhaps if we go in at night, keep our hoods on …’

‘And that won’t look at all suspicious — three hooded figures in kimono and hakama, asking about an elf, when one hasn’t been seen in these lands in centuries!’ Hanto spat.

Taigo, the other, adjusted his swordbelt.

‘One of us could dress up in some human clothes, keep the hood — or use one of the cowls we have seen some wear. Then he could go in and ask some questions, perhaps get some information …’

Hanto struck Jin on the shoulder with his open hand. ‘There you are — that’s the sort of thinking we want!’

‘And we should go into the human villages that have old elven
buildings — that’s what Sendatsu would have been looking for,’ Taigo continued.

Hanto nodded. ‘It is the best plan. We shall find and kill a suitable human tomorrow. Be sure not to mark the clothing. We shall perhaps get them to take their clothes off before death. Then, Taigo, you shall wear the human clothing and go into another human village.’

‘Why me?’

‘Because I can’t trust Jin here not to say something stupid. And because a good dose of human lice and fleas will teach you not to be too clever.’

Asami had trained with both Sendatsu and Gaibun over the years and had beaten many of the male elves at their Test. She was also Sumiko’s favourite student and the most gifted with magic for her age so, even without a weapon, she was confident of besting whoever was out there.

‘Who’s there? Show yourself!’ she challenged, taking up a fighting stance in the middle of the path.

A chuckle answered her and she clenched her fists, prepared to reach into the magic to defend herself.

‘You’re getting better,’ Gaibun commented, as he pushed out of the undergrowth.

Relief flooded through her. ‘What are you doing here? Why were you hiding in the bushes?’

‘I arrived home from patrol not to a wife’s welcome but to an empty house. I knew where you would be, so came to find you. And to warn you.’

‘Warn me?’

Gaibun walked to her side, smiling a little as she stayed in a fighting stance.

‘I am not your enemy,’ he said gently. ‘Please — we do not know who is around …’

Asami relaxed reluctantly and embraced him awkwardly, stiffening again as he kissed her cheek — and whispered in her ear.

‘I have been to see Jaken.’

Asami pushed away, looked around wildly, her heart thumping, expecting to see armed Council Guards appear out of the undergrowth.

‘I have not denounced you. I would not have bothered coming all the way out here to do that, I would have simply waited for you to come home. No need to worry. Yet.’

‘Then tell me what is going on,’ Asami insisted.

Gaibun glanced down the path and then placed his arm around her shoulders, beginning to walk back towards Dokuzen, ignoring the tension radiating from her. ‘We are being betrayed on all sides,’ he said softly, their heads close together. ‘Sendatsu is but part of a larger plot. We think we are helping him but in fact we will be bringing him back to his doom.’

‘Can you stop being dramatic and just tell me?’ Asami demanded.

‘Jaken wants Sendatsu back here, he has even sent out Hanto and two warriors to bring him back. But they do not want him dead, they want him to return. They will even help save him out there, if necessary. But his return will be used by Jaken to overthrow Daichi and take control of the Council. He will use Sendatsu as evidence of Magic-weaver treachery and then crush both the Magic-weavers and Daichi,’ Gaibun said urgently.

Asami forced herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

‘What will you get out of it?’

‘He has offered to make me clan leader, when he becomes Elder Elf.’

‘And why are you telling me this?’

‘Because you have to trust me. We are the only two who actually want to return Sendatsu. Sumiko wants him back so she can use his knowledge to topple the Council and rule in its stead. Jaken wants to use him to rule Dokuzen, then the world.’

‘But do you want to return Sendatsu? You would make a fine clan leader, it would be good for you. You might be able to set me aside and marry whomever you wanted …’

Gaibun stopped abruptly and turned her to face him. She was shocked to find his eyes brimming.

‘Listen to me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I have made so many mistakes. It is time to wipe the slate clean and start again.’

‘What do you mean? You are frightening me …’

‘Please. Before we were married, we were friends. But I have always loved you. I hid my feelings, for I knew you only had eyes for Sendatsu. When he was forced to marry another, I was heartbroken for you both but I went to see Jaken and asked for your hand. I wanted you to be happy and thought this was the only way when you couldn’t have the one you truly loved. After all, there are many such marriages in our circle. Two elves brought together for reasons of politics manage to find friendship, even love together. I thought you might have learned to love me. Perhaps not the way you love Sendatsu but something close enough …’

‘Gaibun, you don’t have to …’

‘Yes, I do!’ he cried. ‘I pushed too hard, I did not give you the space and time you needed. I see that now but I was a fool then.’

‘I am sorry too. If you had only told me even a little of this from the start …’

‘As I said. I have been a fool and blundered from mistake to mistake. The worst was the night when I tried to force you to my bed and you used magic on me …’

‘I don’t want to talk about that,’ Asami interrupted, turning away. That memory still sickened her.

‘Then I shall not,’ he said, catching her arm and turning her gently back. She hesitated before looking at him, seeing the tension in every line of his face. ‘But please believe me when I say I burn with shame at my actions — and the way I behaved afterwards. In my hurt and anger I took mistresses to make you jealous, an attempt to make you change, when it was I who needed to. I betrayed you and I betrayed myself. I told myself such a thing is common in Dokuzen but it does not excuse it.’

‘Why are you telling me all this now? Why not years ago?’

Gaibun took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Things have gone too far,’ he groaned. ‘Whatever happens, whether Sendatsu returns or not, things will change and perhaps not for the better. I have to
change as well. I know these are only empty words but I want to prove to you that I mean them. Let me help you get Sendatsu back.’

‘Gaibun …’

He held up his hand, his gaze burning even more than usual. ‘Please, let me help. We need to work together on this. Jaken thinks he can buy my loyalty with the promise of clan leader. The arrogant bastard! The position should have been mine to inherit. My father had the best claim to lead clan Tadayoshi, only Jaken tricked him, outmanoeuvred him and won it for himself. Now Jaken offers it to me as a consolation prize! He orders my father about as if he was esemono and seeks to play me like a lyre! I know he is sitting there in his study, like some evil spider, pulling on his strings and laughing as we struggle to escape his snares. Using me to trick others would be hilarious to him. He used my father’s honesty against him, now he seeks to twist that in me for his own ends.’

‘Your father was always honourable. Jaken was too devious,’ Asami agreed.

‘My father raised me to always speak the truth, to stand by your word and your friends. Even if it costs you what you really desire. That was the way he lived his life and the way he wants me to live mine. But look what it brought him. He wants me to follow in his footsteps but I shall find my own path. I will tell Jaken what he expects to hear, what he wants to hear. But we shall work together to bring Sendatsu back. We have to stand as one, for Sumiko seeks to use us, as does Jaken. If we lie to them both, then we might be able to play them off against each other.’

Asami looked up at him and saw the way he could not look at her as he worked to keep himself under control. She held him close, leaned in and kissed him.

‘Gaibun, you are a true friend …’

‘Don’t call me that! Please! Can’t you see this is hard enough already?’

Asami laid her hand on his arm, feeling the muscles jump.

‘Then let me say thank you. We shall work together, and together we shall bring Sendatsu home.’

‘And us? What will happen with us?’

‘One problem at a time perhaps?’ Asami said carefully.

Gaibun nodded jerkily. ‘Let me show you I mean what I say. What do you need me to do?’

Asami sighed. ‘Sumiko wants me to break into the tombs of the forefathers and steal as many books as possible.’

Gaibun grunted. ‘You do know Jaken expects that very thing, and has placed a strong guard there?’

‘Yes. But he will not expect the both of us.’

‘True. But don’t tell me here — we shall talk once we are home.’ Gaibun’s arm tightened around her and he began to walk back towards Dokuzen. Asami went with him. This time she was willing to let his arm stay around her but, by his side, she missed movement in the bushes, as a vine slowly sank back into the ground.

The plan to pull all Elfarans back to Dokuzen, behind the magical barrier, was a delicate and careful operation, requiring plenty of planning and even more diplomacy. There were many of us who did not want to hide behind a barrier. They had lived and worked with the Velsh for many years and were confident their friends and neighbours would not harm them. They did not want to go back to Dokuzen, especially those who knew its meaning. My forefathers had named it — apparently it meant ‘self-righteous’ in the old tongue of Nippon. It was an apt name for such a complacent and self-obsessed nation as we were.

Getting all the Elfarans out of human lands required plenty of work from the Magic-weavers. They had to transport Border Patrol, as well as guards loyal to me, out to far-flung reaches of Vales, then bring everyone back.

That was the idea anyway.

But when most of the forces loyal to me were spread thin and wide across Vales, the Magic-weavers unleashed their plot to destroy me and rule Dokuzen.

Getting the village together was a challenge for Huw and Rhiannon, and it was only the respect the villagers had for Huw’s father, Earwen, that brought almost all of them out the next morning.

But they were hardly receptive to Huw’s suggestions. He had to bellow to make himself heard and there was plenty of muttering at the sides and back.

‘The raiders that came here and killed my father and five others are just the first of many! King Ward of Forland wants to add Vales to his kingdom. He wants to terrorise us, to raid and rape, burn and kill, until we beg to be put under his protection — and live under his cruel laws and pay his taxes.’

That had the expected effect — they were listening but it was out of fear, not hope.

‘But we can stop him!’

Huw ignored the ironic laughter and shaking of heads.

‘I have here a friend — Sendatsu of Dokuzen. Yes, Dokuzen, the elven homeland. Sendatsu is an elf and he can show us how to protect ourselves. He is the hero we have all hoped for! Not only will we be safe from the raiders but you and your children won’t have to bend the knee to an evil king!’

Rhiannon applauded loudly but there were just a few scattered hand-claps from the doubtful villagers. Huw gestured to Sendatsu and the elf nervously stepped forwards. He had washed and cleaned his clothes in the chilly stream next to the village — but now he was drenched in nervous sweat.

He surveyed the sea of villagers staring at him; most of them looked unfriendly, a handful were bored and quite a few were either talking to their partners or trying to chase unruly children.

‘Er,’ Sendatsu tried to begin, then had to clear his throat. Panic was gripping him.

‘First thing you need to do is build a palisade around the village …’ he began.

‘What’s that?’ someone called.

‘A big fence, you clod!’ another yelled back.

‘And how will we build it? Who will pay for it? Who will work our fields if we work on it? We talked about it and nothing got done!’ Glyn stepped out of the crowd to address the people.

‘You have to work together,’ Sendatsu tried.

‘Why should we listen to an elf? What do they care about us?’ Glyn shouted.

‘Why doesn’t he do it with magic?’ a man up the back offered, to general enthusiasm.

‘No, we must do this ourselves — not with magic!’ Huw shouted.

‘Well, why should we listen to someone who spends all their time making up poems about autumn leaves then?’ Glyn warmed to the subject.

‘Because I was the one who killed the raiders who struck here, and because I was the one who saved the women they took with them!’ Sendatsu roared back, anger swamping his doubt and fear.

He glared out across the village and suddenly realised he had their full attention.

‘Come forwards, the women I rescued!’ he barked. ‘Delia, Maegen and her friends!’

There was some shuffling among the crowd and then four women pushed forwards, or were urged forwards, all of them holding young children either in their arms or by the hand, until they were in a line. All four were wearing black hoods and three of their children were snivelling at the fuss being made. Sendatsu could see they were looking at him without any warmth and he hoped they were not going to start complaining again.

‘Look at them! They are your friends and relatives and they are only here because I took them from the bastards who attacked you. I killed every last man that rode into your village. Just one warrior. Me!’ Sendatsu found himself boasting.

‘Only half,’ Delia called.

Sendatsu saw her staring coldly at him.

‘Half?’ he asked.

‘Half of them rode off somewhere. You only killed half.’

Sendatsu was thrown for a moment, while Huw felt a surge of anger. Half of them still lived? Was his father’s killer among them?

‘I killed half of them by myself.’ Sendatsu recovered himself. ‘While the rest of you did nothing.’

‘And then after you killed them? What do you say about then?’ Delia challenged.

Sendatsu had taken enough of this. Either they would listen to him, or not.

‘I am sorry you don’t understand the way magic works. But I swear to you now that I do not have the power to bring back the dead. No elf does! But these women are alive because of me. They are back with their children because of me. Now, if anyone here thinks they could have done that, let them step forwards.’

He looked wildly around, but could find not one. Even Glyn was silent, standing just behind the widows in black.

‘Our time is wasting! Now, you need to work on the wall — unless you know something about magic, Aroaril or why the elves left …’

Huw stepped in front of him. ‘Maybe leave that until they are working. Best not to confuse people,’ he suggested, then turned back to the village.

‘Those raiders, or ones like it, will be back. We have to make our village safe. We cannot live in fear. We have an elf to help us, something no other village has. Are we going to listen to him, get his help and ensure the children can grow up without losing any more fathers?’ he said passionately, looking around at the many familiar faces.

While many of them had mocked Huw behind his back — some even to his face — they had all respected Earwen and were all mourning the loss of friends and family in the last attack.

‘Aye, we are,’ Glyn spoke for the village’s mood.

‘Then we need to begin right away. There is no time to lose,’ Huw called.

Slowly, but not reluctantly, the villagers began organising themselves.

‘You were so inspiring,’ Rhiannon whispered to Sendatsu. ‘We all trust in you!’

Sendatsu had been looking around at the young faces of the village children, imagining he saw his own two among them; Huw’s line about children growing up without their father had
struck deep. Watching the Velsh playing with their children made him ache. He had to tell himself not to get too attached to these humans, nor forget why he was here. It was not to save the Velsh, it was to save himself.

‘Where is the young bard, Hugh?’ Hector demanded.

The village headman at Browns Brook looked baffled. ‘I do not know who you mean,’ he protested.

‘Don’t lie to me! If you are hiding him, I shall personally have the skin off your back — and take what remains to King Ward!’ Hector snarled.

His journey south to Browns Brook had been swift, fuelled by his anger and need for vengeance. How could the stupid bitch have been so foolish? Hadn’t he told her often enough men were not to be trusted, they only wanted one thing from her? She had nearly ruined everything and he knew he would have to work extra hard with her on the return journey, if he was to win back favour with the king.

He had destroyed his first chance at power and glory. After winning the king’s coin, he had been sure fame and fortune were his. But it had gone to his head and he had used his position of favour to entertain the court ladies, in more ways than one. He had carved a swath through them, wooing, bedding and then moving on, leaving behind broken hearts. It had all gone to plan until he seduced the younger daughter of a minor noble, who happened to be one of Ward’s former war captains. He had been about to leave when the little cow had got herself pregnant and ruined everything. Her father gave him a choice — marry his daughter and leave the king’s service to live with her in a small village, where the family’s shame could be hidden, or face him over blades. The noble might have been nearly forty but Hector knew he stood no chance of beating the ex-warrior. He had to take the first option, as well as a large bag of gold to ensure they could at least live comfortably. The only concession he won was the promise he could return the following year.

Only he had caught that infection, which ruined his voice and killed his new wife, although leaving the baby girl alive. So there he was, with plenty of gold to live on thanks to his dead wife’s family, but no voice and no future. Until he had seen the possibilities in the little girl, and vowed to restore his fortune …

Now, thanks to the idiot girl and the bard, it was all in jeopardy. He could not wait to be revenged upon the little bastard. He found himself dreaming up ever-more fanciful ways of making him scream on the long journey back to Cridianton. And it would be a long journey, for their horses were exhausted. But it would give the king’s anger time to cool down, and Hector more time to work his revenge on Hugh. If he could just find the man!

‘I am not lying,’ the headman insisted. ‘There has been nobody called Hugh in this village for two generations!’

‘Then he must have used a false name. A young bard who went to Cridianton to perform for the king. You must know him.’

The headman looked into Hector’s burning eyes and shuddered. ‘Only one person from Browns Brook went to Cridianton — a juggler called Bertwald, who returned after being flogged for insulting the king with his lack of talent.’

‘Well, where is he?’ Hector demanded.

Bertwald was found, although he was less than keen to come and talk to armed guards wearing the king’s livery.

‘Tell me the truth, or the last flogging you had will seem like a hug from your sweetheart,’ Hector threatened.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘There was a bard at the king’s auditions, a man named Hugh, who claimed he was from Browns Brook. Did you know him?’

He could see the fear on Bertwald’s face. ‘There were no bards from the village — I was the only one who went there — it is the truth, sir, I beg you!’

Hector signalled to his guards.

‘Give him twenty lashes, see if that helps his memory,’ he ordered.

‘Wait! I’m telling the truth!’ Bertwald wailed.

‘Then tell me more! A man does not just pluck a name out of the air — Browns Brook is not so well known that its fame would reach the capital! Did you speak with anyone, did you see any you recognised from other villages?’

Suddenly Bertwald was nodding. ‘Hugh, you say?’

‘Aye. What do you know?’

‘I met a Velshman on the day before the auditions, who said his name was Hugh, although I think they say it differently — they can’t speak their words properly and …’

‘A Velshman? What did he look like?’ Hector snapped.

‘Average height, dark hair, no beard like you’d normally see on the Velsh, lyre over the shoulder …’

Hector sighed. ‘How did you meet him?’

‘He talked to me, tried to give me advice about performing to the crowd. It sounded good but then he said he was Velsh so I told him to rut off and not come near me again. Pity, maybe if I’d done what he said, then the king wouldn’t have flogged me …’

Hector waved the fool to silence. He needed to think. Could they be the same person? Could this foul Velshman have come south, met this idiot and pretended to be from an honest Forlish village to disguise his upbringing? That would be evidence of intelligence far beyond what he expected from those northern barbarians. Telling Ward the object of his desire was probably being defiled by a pack of hairy Velshmen was a sure way to disgrace — or worse. He had to get Rhiannon back and capture Hugh and have the king think the couple had been hiding out in some remote part of Forland. That was if this story was true … Hector struggled to come to a decision. Chasing all the way into Vales would take time, and they might just run into some of the king’s soldiers, sent to bring those lawless lands under Forlish control. Things could get confusing and nasty. Luckily he had the king’s seal to help ease the way. But what if this was a wild goose chase?

‘Give this fool twenty lashes and see if his story remains the same,’ Hector said harshly, to give himself time to think. ‘While you are at it, let the headman watch and tell him he is next unless his memory improves.’

Patcham was a swarm of activity. It had begun well enough. Sendatsu supplied the orders and Huw organised the people to make it happen. Six boys, all still a few years from manhood, were sent out on ponies to keep watch while each night, men with dogs patrolled the village. Half the men were felling and splitting trees; they had plenty of wood from the old animal fence but that needed to be pulled apart and fitted together as something far bigger. The rest of the men and all the women and children were digging around the village, making a deep ditch. Some were shown where to dig small holes outside of that, which could trap a horse’s hoof.

‘This is to stop them riding horses right up to the palisade,’ Sendatsu had explained. ‘They will have to approach on foot or, if they want to use the horses, attack the gate.’

A plan to protect the village was simple enough. He had made something similar when on patrol near the border. A strong wooden fence and a ditch would stop raiders. It would not turn back a real army but, from what Huw said and his own experience had taught him, these Forlish had only light weapons.

But the pace of the work chafed. He made Huw ask around the villagers, to see if they had talked with Earwen about elven legends or similar — with no luck. Earwen had spent his time with Huw — and almost all the village thought Huw was a lazy wastrel who would ruin his father’s land. With nothing to help him here, he wanted to move on to the next village — except Huw and Rhiannon persuaded him he needed to make sure his ideas worked at one village before taking them around to all the others.