Wall of Spears (7 page)

‘How many and how fast?’

‘About two thousand — but they are not moving fast. They are only walking,’ Huw explained.

‘And their course?’

‘They are coming towards here. But the route takes them through some rough country in Rheged and they will slow down even more when they hit those hills,’ Rhiannon said.

‘The land they are riding through is almost empty of people. We have had two attempts at clearing out Rheged and there are few left now,’ Huw said.

‘But why are they coming back at us? Surely they have bigger problems,’ Sendatsu mused. ‘They should be terrified of the elves coming for them. They should be picking a defensive battleground and digging in for the storm.’

‘Exactly!’ Huw thumped the table. ‘So why is the cavalry coming after us? That should be their strongest weapon against the Elfarans. To send them out now seems foolish beyond words.’

‘And we all know King Ward is not stupid,’ Rhiannon sighed.

Sendatsu stared at the map, trying to make sense of it all.

‘Could they have done some sort of deal with the Elfarans?’ Huw suggested.

‘My father would never make a deal with the Forlish. Why do you think that?’

‘Well, because their route looks very much like the one they took last time, before they forgot about us and turned east to attack Dokuzen.’ Huw traced the route on the map.

‘My father would not rely on gaijin to do his work for him. If he wants us dead, he will come himself, with everything he has.’

‘If only we had someone in Dokuzen who could look around for us and perhaps find out the answer,’ Huw mused, glancing from Sendatsu to Rhiannon.

Sendatsu looked at Rhiannon. ‘He is right. You need to send a message to Asami. She is the only one who would help us. My pride, your pride — none of that matters. We must tell her what we have seen and ask for her help.’

Rhiannon nodded slowly. ‘I fear she will simply throw it away without reading but I will send a message, and keep sending until she replies, or the Forlish reach here.’

Sendatsu looked out over the training field and wondered how many of the Velsh would still be alive in a moon’s time. The successful techniques he and Gaibun had used to train the dragons were being replicated here a hundred-fold, using the dragons themselves as trainers. But something was missing. The likes of Bowen and Cadel were now seasoned warriors, easily the equal of an ordinary elf. But they were not elves and neither had reached nineteen summers. They were being asked to teach older men and lead them into battle — and that was not working. The men who had come here were farmers and miners, strong enough but frightened for their families. They had pride but perhaps too much pride. It was a bad mix and they were not listening.

‘What is it, Papa?’ Mai asked.

‘I am worried about these Velsh,’ he said gently.

‘We can help!’ Cheijun announced. ‘We are best warriors!’

Sendatsu and Mai watched, laughing, as Cheijun attacked a dozen imaginary enemies with his wooden sword, slaying them all before falling onto his back, exhausted with the effort.

‘You will save them. You know everything.’ Mai hugged his arm.

Sendatsu kissed the top of her head. ‘I really don’t. And I wish you wouldn’t say that.’

‘Why not?’

‘I used to think my father knew everything. When I learned he was just the same as everyone else, I lost my respect for him. I would rather you knew me for who I really am.’

‘Don’t worry, Papa. I already know you can do silly things.’ Mai patted his leg.

‘Do you now?’ He grinned.

‘Oh yes. You never told Asami that you love her. And you are letting these Velsh say nasty things to Cadel and the other dragons.’

He looked down at her, wondering yet again how she could see so much at such an early age.

‘And you see all that?’

‘You would be surprised at what I see.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he muttered to himself.

‘What?’

He kissed her head again. ‘Take care of our wounded warrior there. I can’t do anything about Asami but I can help the dragons.’

‘I not wounded! I tired!’ Cheijun called. ‘Need plums to make me better!’

‘Look after our tired warrior until I can find him some food then.’ Sendatsu winked at Mai.

He walked across to where his leading dragons were working small groups of recruits. None looked too enthusiastic but he waited for a chance to act. It was not long in coming.

Cadel stood over an older man who was holding his hand to his face, while the rest of the group of men — miners, by the look of them — shouted angrily.

‘Who do you think you are?’ a large, red-faced miner was yelling at Cadel. ‘Talking to us like this, hitting us with wooden swords! You’re nothing but a boy!’

The fallen man’s friends were pushing forwards, all holding wooden practice swords, and Cadel was forced to step back.

‘Stop right there,’ Sendatsu snarled, and the men did so, staring nervously at him. ‘What is the problem?’

‘This young fool was yelling at us,’ the red-faced man began, before Sendatsu turned on him.

‘Did I ask you? If I wanted advice from an idiot, I’d go and ask one of those sheep. Cadel, what happened?’

The man’s cheeks grew darker but he said nothing to Sendatsu.

‘They don’t want to work hard enough and then this one wasn’t listening to me about keeping his guard up, so when I demonstrated a stroke, he missed his block and it broke his nose.’ Cadel gestured with his head at the groaning man on the ground, who had both hands clutched to his face.

Sendatsu nodded to Cadel and then spun to face the semicircle of men, taking a pace forwards so he was uncomfortably close to them.

‘Do you want to die?’ he shouted.

‘It’s not about that,’ the red-face man bleated.

‘Yes, it is!’ Sendatsu roared at him, while keeping half an eye on the other groups, who were all listening. ‘These dragons, these
boys
, as you call them, lived through the bloodbath at Dokuzen! They are trying to keep you alive for your wives and children and all you do is complain! When the elves come, you should fall down on your knees and thank Aroaril you have men like him beside you!’

‘We don’t worship Aroaril,’ the man muttered.

‘Well, you had better start, because only prayers are going to save you! One elf could take three of you easily.’

‘We’re miners. We’re stronger than any pointy-eared bastard that comes this way,’ one of the men up the back, made brave by the distance between him and Sendatsu, said softly, but not so softly that he was not heard.

‘So that’s the way of it, eh?’ Sendatsu glared around at them. ‘So be it. I’ll take on five of you. If you knock me down, then you can go and do what you want. I knock you down, then you listen to what my dragons say to you.’

The miners shuffled their feet and looked at the ground. The red-faced man was the only one to voice his thoughts. ‘We all know how you beat twelve Forlishmen by yourself. We’re not that foolish.’

‘It was five, just like now,’ Sendatsu corrected. ‘Well, how about this. Five of you take on Cadel here. Same deal. Knock him down and you get to do what you want. He takes you down, and you listen to him.’

The miners looked at each other this time.

‘Sounds fair,’ the red-faced man said cautiously.

‘Good. Pick your five and then be ready,’ Sendatsu told him, taking Cadel’s shoulder. The young Velshman lacked the sheer size of Sendatsu because he had not worked with a bow for twenty years, but he was a head taller and battle-hardened.

‘Is this a good idea?’ Cadel asked levelly.

‘It’s perfect. If I beat them, then it’s elven skill that won the day. When you beat them, they’ll believe and listen to you,’ Sendatsu whispered. ‘They’ve done just what I wanted them to.’

‘Did I do something to annoy you?’ Cadel half smiled. ‘You want five of them to attack me?’

‘They’re slow and untrained, you’re fast and skilled. What you did back at Patcham and Dokuzen is nothing compared to this. Take them down fast and don’t give them a chance.’

Cadel grinned down at him. ‘So this is the famous Elvish arrogance?’

‘No, it’s the start of the famous Velsh arrogance. Do it.’

Sendatsu stepped back as the five miners, led by the red-faced man, stepped forwards. Cadel waited for them, left hip forwards, perfectly balanced, bokken held in both hands angled across his right shoulder.

‘Don’t let fear stop you,’ he told them.

With a roar, the five sprang forwards.

Cadel darted to his right, away from their sword arms and whipped his bokken low in a tiger-claw stroke that blasted the wind out of the man on the far left of their group. He collapsed but Cadel continued to circle, forcing the men to turn back on themselves. He used the winded man as a diversion and attacked left and right, smashing his bokken onto the wrist of one man, then whipping it back up under the chin of the next. One went down; the other dropped his practice sword.

The red-faced man and his last companion spread out, trying to come at Cadel from different sides, but the young dragon had trained too hard at this manoeuvre to be caught so simply. He circled back to his right and made the two of them get in each other’s way, before using the cartwheel stroke on the back of one man’s knee, sending him tumbling to the ground and recovering in time to block a wild swing from the remaining man.

‘Wait!’ the red-faced man called but Cadel was already moving, using the zigzag style to land blows on his ribs and chest, before finishing off with the waterwheel stroke to knock his feet out and send him crashing to the ground.

Cadel bowed to the five groaning men before bowing again to Sendatsu, who could not keep the broad smile off his face. He looked around the field. While everyone else was supposed to be training, it was obvious every pair of eyes had been firmly fixed on the little bout.

‘Anyone else think your trainers are too young and don’t know anything?’ he roared.

The silence was deafening as the Velshmen hurriedly got back to following the instructions of the dragon who was training them.

‘Make those five sweat for the rest of the afternoon,’ he told Cadel quietly.

The young dragon leader grinned. ‘With pleasure.’

‘I need to find some plums,’ Sendatsu said, walking back towards his children.

‘What in the name of the stars above happened to you?’ Edmund demanded.

Oroku scraped an ant out of his ear with a shudder. ‘We have enemies in Dokuzen. One of them attacked me but I was able to escape.’

‘How can I know you did not reveal everything to them?’ Edmund accused.

Oroku sighed, his swollen face almost obscuring one of his eyes. ‘Because I am still alive,’ he said shortly.

‘What did they do to you?’

‘Set insects and spiders on me. Luckily none of them were truly poisonous and my magic is enough to keep me out of pain, if not out of discomfort. Now, where is King Ward?’

Edmund reluctantly led Oroku into the king’s tent. Ward was in there with a handful of the captains, as well as his sons, Uffa and Wilfrid. Edmund found that a little uncomfortable, after being named the king’s heir and told to plan how he should kill the pair of them, as well as their mother.

‘Sire, the elven Magic-weaver is here. He arrived late, saying he had been attacked by his enemies.’

‘Fought them off with your face, did you?’ Ward observed.

‘Sire.’ Oroku bowed low. ‘The Elder Elf has marched, along with all his warriors. They are a day out of the city and moving well. I stand ready to take your squad in to Dokuzen tomorrow at noon, when the remaining members of the Elven Council will meet. By then the warriors will be too far away to return before we have finished and I bring your men back here.’

‘Your mistress has told them we are heading north, ready to destroy the Velsh for them?’

‘Indeed, sire.’ Oroku bowed again. He was not happy showing this much deference to a human but Sumiko had insisted and he would do anything she wanted.

‘Good. Edmund, is your squad ready?’

‘They are, sire.’

‘Make sure they are well rested and fed for the morrow. As soon as you return, Magic-weaver, you will need to send a message to my northern force, telling them to fall back here before your Elder Elf does something foolish that we will all regret.’

‘Correct, sire.’ Oroku bowed again. It was easy to keep his face impassive, as the bites and stings had left it swollen and stiff. Curse that Asami! At least her nuisance would be ended by the morning, wiped out by the warriors Sumiko had picked to end her once and for all.

Noriko was quite happy painting in her garden. Or rather, she told herself she was happy. Since her son, Sendatsu, had left, taking with him Mai and Cheijun, it had been hard to smile. Jaken might be her husband, but he was never home and certainly would never dream of spending time with her — she was required to attend official duties and ensure that his home was clean and preserved, nothing more. The garden was slowly getting back to what it had been before Sendatsu had brought in Daichi’s guards and turned it into a battlefield; having the Elder Elf as your husband certainly helped in finding gardeners willing to work on it.

She daubed a little paint on the stretched cotton canvas and wondered if anything might happen to break the monotony of her days. Soon she would have to go inside, for the light was fading and the chill in the air reminded her that it was closer to winter than summer. She called for a servant to help carry her things inside and was surprised to see two of them run across to her. She hoped Jaken had not been terrifying them again.

‘My lady, a message.’ One of them bowed to her, holding out a sealed scroll.

She instantly recognised the mark of Retsu and waved the servants away.

‘Carry this inside,’ she ordered harshly, pointing at the paints and canvas, using it to cover the quickening of her heart.

She made herself wait until they had gone, then broke the seal and read the words by the fading sunlight. Retsu was requesting her presence at the Council meeting the following day, as his guest, to honour clan Tadayoshi in the absence of the Elder Elf. There was little else to say why and she guessed it was because he dared not have Jaken see the words. She smiled to herself. It was probably not a good idea to go. But she would anyway.

Lord Retsu was searching fruitlessly among the archives of the Council for evidence of Jaken’s treachery when he heard the voice calling him.

‘Lord Retsu, please do not turn around,’ it said urgently.

Retsu instantly turned but could not see anyone anywhere among the long shelves.

‘You cannot know who I am. My life is in danger,’ the voice said softly.

‘Who are you? What do you want?’ Retsu demanded, his hand instinctively going to his sword. But he had left it up in his office and he cursed his foolish belief that he would be safe in the Council Chambers.

‘I want to help you. I want to stop Sumiko,’ the voice told him.

Retsu edged his way down the shelves until he could see the stairs out of the archive area.

‘What makes you think I want to stop Sumiko? She is a trusted member of the Elven Council now and a favourite of the Elder Elf,’ he said loudly, in case this was a trap of Jaken’s. It was by a similar method that he had lost the leadership of clan Tadayoshi and the hand of Noriko.

The voice chuckled. ‘You are right to be suspicious. But what if I was to tell you that Sumiko has made a deal with the Forlish? She plans to use them to overthrow Jaken and take power herself.’

‘How do you know this? And why are you telling me?’ Retsu demanded angrily. ‘If that is true, then you should present your evidence to Jaken —’