Bridge of Swords (49 page)

‘We did it!’

Villagers and dragons embraced one another, laughed and cheered, or sank to the ground in tears, overcome by what they had faced.

Huw knew they had to help the wounded, as well as gather up as many swords as they could find — but first he wanted to hold Rhiannon. He had brought down a pair of running Forlish with his crossbow, men who had been butchered by vengeful villagers, but he had not fought with the sword at all. Still, he had been close enough and the reaction had him shaking. The village had been turned into a charnel house and he dreaded to think of what he might find there, of the men who had died or been crippled, ones he had persuaded to fight for him. Glancing around, he saw Sendatsu cleaning his sword off on a handful of leaves, although his face, arms and chest were covered in blood.

‘Are you hurt?’ Huw hurried over.

‘It’s not mine,’ Sendatsu assured him tiredly, then forced a smile. ‘Well, we beat them, we saved the village — this is another tale that will grow with the telling around Vales.’

‘We shall make sure all know of your part in it,’ Huw assured him. ‘We would not be here without you.’

‘I don’t want fame, or to be in a song. I just want to hold my children again,’ Sendatsu declared. ‘Besides, it was the dragons who were the difference.’

‘Who would not have survived, would not exist without you. We have proved that Velsh can fight and beat the Forlish …’

‘Not quite. They were badly led, and not wearing any armour or in numbers much greater than ours …’

‘Oh, we should enjoy the victory while we can. By the time we have finished with it, there will be a thousand Forlish, all wearing armour and riding on winged steeds against us,’ Rhiannon interrupted. But her smile was too bright, her eyes too wet to put much weight in her words.

‘Are you all right?’ Huw asked.

‘I never want to see that again.’ She shuddered. ‘Why do men love war so much, spend so much time preparing for it? How could you want to do something so terrible?’

Sendatsu nodded agreement. At times during the past few moons, he had found himself almost in love with battle. The thrill of defeating others, of standing triumphant over your foe, had been intoxicating. But now, however, he would be happy never to fight again.

‘You were wonderful. The women were the difference, helped us hold on long enough.’ Huw dropped the crossbow and enfolded Rhiannon in his arms.

Sendatsu wanted to get out his children’s toys, wanted to kiss them and promise them he would never again do anything so foolish — but he could not get the blood off his hands.

‘I don’t want to talk about it. Or think about it,’ she declared.

‘Then think about this. Why don’t we Walk The Tree tomorrow?’

She leaned away from him. ‘Are you serious?’

‘As I can be,’ Huw vowed.

Instantly she leaned in and kissed him, while around them, many of the dragons and villagers cheered and clapped.

Sendatsu walked slowly away. He would watch that then ride east. He would speak to Asami. If she did not have any hope for him, then he would travel back to Dokuzen with Cadel, Bowen, Tadd and a score of his dragons. He would be reunited with his children, one way or another.

I found Naibun at a small human church of Aroaril, accompanied by what looked like the entire Council Guard, and many Border Patrol as well. He greeted me warmly and invited me to eat with them but I could see a shadow behind his eyes.

Calmly, I outlined my suspicions and what I had learned.

‘You have been killing our people, killing their people, spreading stories among our people and the various other tribes — and were you behind the attempt on my life?’ I finished.

For a long time he did not answer and I dared to hope he would have an explanation for it all.

Finally he spoke. ‘Yes. You are not fit to lead the elves …’

‘We are not elves! We are humans, just like everyone else!’ I raged.

‘No, we are special. But you would deny it, deny our birthright and our powers. I shall take control of the elven people and lead them to their true destiny,’ he told me.

I had had enough. ‘You shall do nothing of the kind. You will be arrested and tried for your crimes against the people of this continent …’

‘Wrong. It is you who will be punished. You will be killed here, the victim of a human attack. The people will mourn your passing but not for long. Your death will be the excuse I need to stop this ridiculous idea of a magic barrier around Dokuzen.
We shall take control of the humans, make them our slaves and rule — as we were meant to!’

I went for my sword but the Council Guards, who I thought loyal to me — stopped me.

‘You shall die tomorrow,’ he told me, with a smile on his face, which I could no longer recognise, ‘die with every human with magic. We have invited them all here to give them a gift, under the shelter of Aroaril. And then we shall kill them, so there will be nothing to stop us.’

‘You have a victory, your majesty!’

Cheering crowds filled the streets around the castle at Cridianton and Ward stood high on the wall, waving to his people, unable to keep the smile from his face.

At long last the Landish had surrendered. And, in the same quarter-moon, the siege of Pevensey had finished with the city elders begging for mercy — and being impaled for their troubles. Balia was at his mercy now, while the far southern countries of Demetia and Crolland were within his grasp. Already they had envoys waiting to see him, to offer terms to stop the Forlish armies rolling over their fields and towns. His vision was coming true.

‘Captain Edmund,’ Ward beckoned one of his war captains to his side.

‘Sire?’

‘The news from the south is all good. But I have not heard anything from the north for almost a full moon. Find out what is going on there.’

‘I should think the Velsh are about ready to bend the knee to your majesty,’ Edmund rumbled. ‘I have one of my best sergeants up there and he’ll be making sure there are tears in every Velsh village.’

‘I hope so,’ Ward agreed. ‘Send me news within the next quarter-moon. I want to know the Velsh are mine before I decide whether to use my fleet to invade the Skilly Isles, or pay the Velsh a visit they will never forget.’

‘Will your father lead clan Tadayoshi and support the Magic-weavers?’ Sumiko demanded.

‘Sensei, I cannot say for sure. Perhaps we would be better speaking to Gaibun’s father. After all, he was Jaken’s rival …’

Asami had spent the previous few days arguing with Gaibun over this very thing. Gaibun was sure neither of their fathers would do such a thing, the shame of being appointed by Magic-weavers too much for them to bear. Asami wanted to believe her father would do what was necessary for the good of Dokuzen — but reluctantly agreed with Gaibun.

She found herself doing that more and more of late — agreeing with Gaibun. They had been talking as much as they ever did in those long-ago days when they were teenagers and had not a care in the world. At last they had found a common purpose.

‘Then we shall have to rule without the clans,’ Sumiko interrupted. ‘Sendatsu has another few days to contact us or we shall have to act without him. Either we shall overthrow the Council and rule the elves, or die in the attempt.’

‘The Magic-weavers have not tried anything. I have spent the last moon waiting every night but they fear to act,’ Jaken said scornfully.

‘I do not know what they plan,’ Gaibun admitted. ‘But I know they fear you and believe you have a trap set for them. They want to contact either my father or Asami’s father and see if they are willing to rule the elves as their puppet.’

Jaken chuckled. ‘They are so predictable! The only question is whether we let them make their attempt and then act, or act first. The first has the appeal of having them do the work for me — once Daichi and his supporters are dead, it will be child’s play to step in. But that means Daichi will die without knowing I am the architect of his doom.’

‘Surely, lord, to step in and save Dokuzen from the Magic-weavers is the best course, the honourable thing to do …’

‘But nowhere near as much fun,’ Jaken mused. ‘Have we heard from Hanto at all?’

‘No, lord.’

‘Then we can assume he has failed. A pity. Now the responsibility falls to you. No doubt they will make one last attempt to contact my son. If Sendatsu returns, then the Magic-weavers will act. We will be prepared, of course, but advance notice of even one turn of the hourglass will be perfect.’

Gaibun felt Jaken’s eyes burn into him and drew himself to attention.

‘Yes, lord,’ he promised.

The day after the battle brought only hard work and tears. Walls needed to be rebuilt, weapons collected and cleaned, wounded tended and graves dug. The Forlish dead were dragged out into a huge pile, where the smashed wood from the old palisade was stacked around them and the corpses burned. It had to be done fast — crows and ravens were flying in from all over Vales to fight over the bodies, while several that had died by the woods looked like they had been mauled by foxes and wolves. The smell of death and blood hung over the village.

It had been a victory but everyone had suffered. There were few men who did not have some sort of wound, while a dozen were badly wounded and unlikely to recover. Sendatsu had showed them how to deal with cuts: clean them with honey mead, stuff the gap with cobwebs and then crudely stitch shut, before bandaging with washed strips of linen, adding a herbal poultice. For those who had lost a hand or more of a limb, they sealed it with pitch — but there was nothing to be done for those with wounds to the chest and stomach. Sendatsu watched them struggle to make these dying men comfortable — some of them his young dragons — and he burned with shame. In Dokuzen, the priest of Aroaril would have come around, blessed them and healed the most grievous, while women and men would have used a mixture of herbs and their own magic to aid those with light wounds.

With his help, some of the wounded would recover, although the village was filled with crying rather than rejoicing because of the number of dead and wounded. Families had lost fathers, sons, brothers, cousins and friends — while two women had been killed in the chase of the Forlish, leaving children howling for both mother and father.

Huw and Sendatsu went around the dragons, speaking to all of them, spending time with the wounded and trying to make their pain easier. Out of the hundred who had ridden into the village, a dozen were dead and twice that many wounded, many of those unlikely to ever fight again.

‘A high price to pay,’ Sendatsu sighed.

‘We had no choice,’ Huw said sadly. ‘But their sacrifice will not be forgotten. Men shall sing of this day — the whole Vales will know what we did!’

Sendatsu tried to smile but could not. ‘And when Ward travels north with his full army? What will happen then? How will you stand against them? They will be armoured, armed with spear and sword, locked in tight ranks, disciplined and led well.’

Huw leaned against a wall. ‘I notice you said “you”, not “we”,’ he said slowly.

‘I cannot stay here. I need to get back to my children. I am all they have, do you understand?’

Huw wanted to argue with Sendatsu, but the blood and violence of the previous day seemed to have washed that out of him. Besides, he could not deny the elf had already helped them immensely.

‘I know,’ he said tiredly. ‘As for the Forlish, what else can we do? The elves are not going to come to our aid — we must stand or fall on our own. We shall pull everyone as far back into Vales as we can, then hit and run and hide — hope that he loses patience, hope the Landish and Balians rise as well, so he is forced to send his men home. All we have is hope.’

Sendatsu wanted to ask more but was afraid it would give Huw the chance to persuade him to stay longer.

‘What about Rhiannon?’ he asked, changing the subject. ‘Have you told her the truth yet?’

Huw pushed himself up off the wall and looked over his shoulder.

‘Not yet,’ he admitted. ‘I shall tell her after we have Walked The Tree.’

‘And that will make all the difference?’ Sendatsu asked cynically. ‘Do you think she will be happier you admit you lied only after you are married?’

‘I don’t think she will be any happier but at least she will not leave me then,’ Huw said defensively.

‘Trust in her. Trust in yourself!’ Sendatsu urged. ‘You can’t expect to last together if you don’t believe that what you have is strong enough to withstand the truth. You can’t build a life on a lie.’

Huw looked at him. ‘You seem able to preach to others but ignore such advice when it comes to your own life,’ he said wryly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You have all these abilities, all this knowledge, and all you want to do is hide them.’

‘I have a responsibility to my children …’

‘You use them as an excuse,’ Huw accused. ‘You don’t want to be a leader. You could go back to Dokuzen and change everything there, if you but had the will.’

‘You don’t understand it. You have never been there. You don’t know what that would take!’

‘I know I am changing Vales,’ Huw fired back. ‘Nobody would have said that was possible even three moons ago but look at us now. And I didn’t begin with half of what you have!’

Sendatsu heard the words but had no intention of getting into this debate. He would get his children back and then put this whole nightmare behind him, somehow.

‘Don’t change the subject,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘You must tell Rhiannon. She deserves to know. Her father is still out there.’

‘Fine. Run from my words, as you run from all responsibility. But one day it will catch up to you. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that life will find out your deepest fear — and make it come true. How you deal with that is the mark of who you are.’

‘Rhiannon?’ Sendatsu prompted, shutting his ears to the bard’s words. ‘Her father?’

‘You thought he was behind the Forlish attack,’ Huw pointed out, with a sigh.

‘So I was wrong there. But he is not going to give up and go home. You don’t want to meet him when she doesn’t know the full truth …’

‘I shall tell her today,’ Huw promised. ‘Now, when we Walk The Tree, we need two witnesses to tell our families. Usually it is the two fathers who watch the ceremony but, for obvious reasons, that won’t happen with us. I would like you to be there.’

Sendatsu was surprised by how much that meant to him.

‘What about Rhiannon? Would she want me there?’

‘She does. We have been through so much together, we three. It seems right that you should be there.’

‘It feels strange, given our history. But I shall be glad to — honoured.’ Sendatsu smiled. ‘Who is the other?’

‘Rhiannon is asking Glyn. We need to be escorted to the tree from separate directions, then make our vows together and walk once around, sunwise.’

‘A strange ceremony,’ Sendatsu commented. ‘Are you sure there is nothing in the history of Vales about worshipping Aroaril? Did the elves not try to show you God?’

‘Nothing I have heard.’ Huw shrugged. ‘Of course, we do not have a written history. Our knowledge of those times is hidden in myth and mystery.’

Sendatsu nodded. Perhaps he should find some good men and women and simply try to get them to talk to Aroaril …

‘Are you having second thoughts about witnessing for me?’ Huw asked.

‘Of course not!’ Sendatsu assured him. ‘But should we not take some of the dragons with us? Where is this oak tree?’

‘It is not far outside the village. There is no need to take the dragons. They are needed to help rebuild here.’ Huw waved it off.

‘But the Forlish …’

‘Are still running. Besides, we shall have you there. There is no finer swordsman in Vales!’

‘Flattery does not change the need for having more men there. What if there are a couple of Forlish out there waiting for us? Why not let another dozen witness this ceremony?’

‘I doubt that there are any Forlish left within ten miles of this village.’ Huw smiled. ‘And Walking The Tree is an old and sacred ritual. To perform it in front of a score of armed men would forever spoil the day for Rhiannon …’

‘And you are going to spoil it enough for her by revealing your lie afterwards,’ Sendatsu finished for him.

‘Indeed,’ Huw admitted.

‘Then I shall respect your wishes.’

‘It will be all fine, you’ll see,’ Huw insisted.

Sendatsu smiled but another worry nagged at him. Hanto was still out there somewhere. He had not been seen or heard of for a moon or more but he was not the sort of elf to give up easily.

Glyn was delighted to agree to be a witness. He had been unsure about the break in tradition but, after what they had all been through, he recognised that waiting until Midwinter was not always possible.

‘I shall be able to tell the grandkids about this.’ He grinned. He had come through the battle with a slight wound to the left arm, dressed and bandaged in the way Sendatsu had shown them. ‘I wasn’t sure about this way of treating wounds — normally we just wrap a rag around it and put a lucky elfbolt in there to help it heal. But none of the wounds have gone green and runny yet.’