Bridge of Swords (37 page)

‘That is monstrous,’ Sendatsu admitted. ‘And I thought my father was bad.’

Huw nodded. ‘She thinks her father sacrificed everything for her, gave up his life to make hers a success, when it was the other way around. He spent her whole life carefully planning to use her to restore his fortune. Afterwards, he would have discarded her like a dirty rag.’

‘I can see why you didn’t tell her back in Cridianton. But why have you not told her still? She needs to know! If she ever meets her father again, it will make today’s bitter lesson look like a pleasant memory.’

‘I know! I know all that — but now I have left it so long, it makes it hard to say anything. I always intended to but things just kept happening …’

‘And now I have broken her heart, you cannot risk telling her.’ Sendatsu nodded. ‘You have backed yourself into an unpleasant corner — and there is no easy way out.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ Huw grumbled.

‘Well, you will need to tell her. Maybe not tomorrow — but soon. In the meantime, I shall do what I can to help you. The two of you should be together — she will see that, eventually. Now I have hurt her, the appeal of a dependable, kind man will be far greater than that of an elf.’

‘Thanks — I think,’ Huw said.

Sendatsu grinned. ‘Well, you know what I mean. Women love a warrior, a hero, or an elf. They measure it against the farmers and shopkeepers and miners — and bards — and they long for what they do not have.’

‘Know a lot about Velsh women, do you? Popular topic in Dokuzen, is it?’ Huw sniffed.

‘Not exactly. But I have seen women here are much like those in Dokuzen. Women like to dream. But when they find the dream is a nightmare, they are happy to have something real, like you.’

Huw regarded the elf with disbelief. ‘Well, thank you very much for that wonderful advice,’ he said coldly.

‘It is good advice,’ Sendatsu insisted. ‘Even if it didn’t quite sound right. You’ll see — the two of you shall be together, I promise. At least one of us should be happy. And as my love is in Dokuzen and might as well be a star in the sky, it had better be you!’

Huw heard the pain in Sendatsu’s voice and stopped himself from making another cutting comment.

‘If you can help me, I shall be grateful,’ he admitted.

‘And I did not mean you are not strong, or brave — for you are both,’ Sendatsu said softly. ‘Just because you cannot defeat five Forlish warriors with the sword does not make you less of a man. In fact, you are more of one than I — given I am an elf!’

They smiled at that and looked over at Rhiannon, who was still pointedly ignoring them. They watched as she rolled herself into a blanket and settled down to sleep.

‘I don’t think we had better ask her to take a watch tonight,’ Huw grunted.

‘I’ll take it. I don’t think I can sleep tonight anyway,’ Sendatsu sighed.

‘I’ll sit with you for a while,’ Huw offered, feeling closer to the elf than ever before. ‘Tell me of your love back in Dokuzen.’

‘Her name is Asami,’ he said heavily. ‘We have been friends since we were children. She is far smarter than I, brilliant at magic and a genius at herbs. There truly is much you Velsh could learn from her, if only she could be here.’

‘Still, smarter than you — not too hard, is it?’ Huw nudged the elf. ‘What of your children?’

‘They would make you smile as soon as you saw them,’ Sendatsu said fondly. ‘Mai is five and loves animals and plants. She has the brightest smile and to see her dance … Cheijun is three, fearless when it comes to picking up insects but scared the gaijin humans will come for him in the night. I would like him to meet you, to learn he does not have to be afraid, hear his laugh set a room alight. I close my eyes and I can see them. If only I could hold them once more …’

The utter misery in his voice touched Huw.

‘I’m sure you will see them again,’ Huw said slowly. ‘I know why those toys mean so much to you now.’

Sendatsu took them out. ‘I will have to wash them before I can give them back to Mai and Cheijun,’ he said sorrowfully. ‘Look at my hands — look at my clothes. Everything is dirty, everything smells.’

‘Well, we can find a stream tomorrow …’ Huw offered.

‘I want a bath. I want to soak in hot water and wear clean clothes,’ Sendatsu said softly. ‘But I know there’ll be no bath until I return. But these toys deserve more.’ He held them in his hand, concentrated for a few moments and reached into the magic.

Huw watched in amazement as the toys began to gently steam, the dirt and grime disappearing from them.

‘I don’t have much magic but I can do small things to amuse.’ Sendatsu smiled.

‘What is going on?’ Rhiannon called.

The moment was lost and they both looked up.

‘Nothing,’ Huw replied, casting a glance at Sendatsu. ‘Were we making a noise?’

Rhiannon rolled back over. She had not heard anything, but she had felt something. Again, the world had come alive around her, seemingly ready to do her bidding. All she had to do was ask. It was most strange …

‘No. But can you do whatever it is without disturbing me next time?’

Huw and Sendatsu exchanged looks.

‘I don’t think she has quite forgiven me yet,’ Sendatsu said wryly.

‘Nothing is ever hopeless,’ Huw told him. ‘Wake me later. I’m going to get some sleep.’

One person tried to warn me. A young warrior from the Tadayoshi clan and Moratsune family approached me one day while I was wandering around my garden. He was polite yet determined and managed to get past my guards. He tried to tell me what was happening, how his family had lived among the Velsh to the west before being ordered out of their home and back to Dokuzen. What he had seen on the way back east had outraged him and he tried to communicate that to me. Sadly, I did not listen.

My guards did, however, and reported back to Naibun that word was reaching my ears.

Broyle looked at yet another walled Velsh village and spat in disgust.

‘They’re staying ahead of us, sarge. And even if we get them in the end, the Velsh are going to be safe behind their walls,’ someone said nervously.

Without looking, Broyle knew it was Ricbert, who had been voicing his concerns with increasing regularity. He was speaking to the others when Broyle was not around, suggesting they would be better returning to Forland to warn the king — or even going back to their unit, rather than chasing around Vales after an elf, a bard and a woman. Broyle knew he could handle Ricbert, could handle them all if it came to it. But he needed them. In fact, he needed more of them.

‘You are right,’ he said, turning around suddenly.

The other men, who had been exchanging meaningful looks, looked startled, both by Broyle’s words and actions.

‘This is not working. We need to try something else.’

‘Like going home?’ Ricbert ventured.

‘No!’ Broyle barked. ‘Like taking one of those villages.’

He could see the doubt in their eyes. They all remembered what had happened the last time — how the clouds of crossbow bolts had covered the men and horses, killing both.

‘Not just us!’ Broyle growled and they visibly relaxed. ‘Look at that village. The wall might be enough to slow horsemen but, if we were back with the regiment, would we be afraid of taking that?’

Dutifully they looked as he pointed at the crude wooden palisade and he could see their confidence return, a little.

‘We’d smash that down in a day. We just need to prepare for it. We cannot catch our prey, for they are faster than we are. So we make them come to us. We’ll gather up as many men as we can — try to get at least two hundred, maybe even more. And we’ll take our time, build battering rams, make shields. When we attack, we’ll do it the right way, smash our way inside and teach the Velsh that no pissing little wall is going to stop us! Once they see their fancy crossbows and wooden walls are no defence, once that elf and bard are being dragged feet-first back to Cridianton, they’ll give up quick smart.’

‘But sarge, how will we know which village they’ll be in, which is the right one to attack?’

‘We’ll tell them,’ Broyle said with relish. ‘We’ll let it slip that we’re about to crush the first one we attacked. That’s where they’re from, so they won’t be able to help themselves. They’ll rush back, thinking they can protect it — and then they’ll be trapped. And they’ll finally get to see how the Forlish army really fights!’

‘But how will we let them know where we are going to attack?’

‘Not sure yet,’ Broyle admitted, thinking he might have to sacrifice Ricbert for that task if he could not come up with a
better idea. ‘But we’ll find a way — and return to Cridianton as heroes!’

He could see the grins on the faces of his men now, even Ricbert was looking happy.

‘Come on. We need to find more men.’ Broyle signalled, and they began marching again, this time with a spring in their step.

Hector was furious with Sergeant Edric. Years of training the girl had not left him well equipped for spending days in the saddle, sleeping rough and eating cold food. He needed a little luxury — or as much as Vales could supply. Obviously he could not just ride into a Velsh village with a squad of armed men behind him — not only would word get around but he might find himself in the middle of a fight. So he sent Edric and half of the men away to look for signs of his stupid daughter, while he took the rest into a village with the ridiculous name of Brynmawr for the chance to at least eat some hot food. He would have liked a soft bed, a warm bath and a softer woman as well but you couldn’t expect to find such things in a barbarian place like Vales. He considered it a good bargain if he was able to ride out again without fleas and lice.

He had a reasonable meal — not great but better than whatever Edric’s men cooked over a wood fire at night. But Edric was not at the meeting point and he had to waste several turns of the hourglass looking for the man. He was about ready to explode, although, of course, he needed Edric more than the sergeant knew. He silently promised himself the man would suffer on their return to Cridianton, however.

But all his elaborate plans for revenge were wiped out when they found the bodies.

It was almost nightfall and he found himself looking around worriedly, afraid not just that they would not return with Rhiannon but they might not return at all.

‘Who did this to them?’ Edric’s corporal John, a stolid man with little imagination, gasped as they went from body to body, inspecting the wounds.

‘I’d say it wasn’t a bard,’ Hector sniffed. Inside, his mind was racing. Keeping these men in line was going to be difficult without Edric. And how was he going to capture the bard and get Rhiannon back, if Edric and four men had obviously tried — and been slaughtered.

‘What now, sir?’ John asked.

Hector did not answer right away, for he was trying to come up with an idea.

‘Bury them,’ he said at last, to give himself time to think.

They had no spades, and the five dead men’s swords had been taken from them, so John and the rest of the men had to use their blades to carefully cut away the grass and soil. It was difficult, and instead of a deep grave, they basically scratched out a hollow and then covered the bodies with a thin layer of turf. Hector suspected animals would be at them before the night’s end — but that was the least of his problems.

‘We still have the king’s seal,’ he announced. ‘That counts for a great deal. All around Vales there are Forlish warriors, loyal and brave, trying to carry out the king’s wishes. All we need to do is find a few more — and then we shall be ready to finish the king’s orders.’ Hector hoped that would be true.

‘We are getting closer,’ Hanto announced.

Jin and Taigo said nothing, but they exchanged a long look behind Hanto’s back. What had seemed to be an easy mission at first had dragged on for almost a moon. These lands were infested with bands of armed humans, while the villages were now arming themselves as well. Hanto had even considered returning to Dokuzen with this news. Jaken needed to know the humans would not be the easy conquest he imagined. But he had decided returning without Sendatsu would not be the wisest course. Besides, even protected villages would not stand up to the might of the elves — and their Magic-weavers.

Still, the progress of the villages was making it easier to track Sendatsu. Every one with a wall around it knew of the strange elf.

‘Why is he helping the gaijin? What is the point?’ Taigo had asked.

‘He is mad,’ Hanto replied simply.

The distances they had to cover meant they had taken horses from humans and now rode. It was an unusual experience for the three of them but Jin and Taigo were enjoying not having aching feet at the end of the day. All of them felt filthy and hungry, unable to find proper food or have a bath, and all were longing to finish this task and get home.

Now they had come across a village without a wall, which a traveller told them was called Brynmawr.

‘They have been heading steadily west. Soon they will arrive here and, when they do, we shall catch them,’ Hanto said. ‘We just need to find an ideal spot for an ambush.’

‘What is your plan now?’ Sendatsu asked as they rode towards the next village, Brynmawr.

‘You mean now we cannot tell them the elves are coming to save them?’ Rhiannon called back over her shoulder. She was riding ahead of them, so she did not have to look at Sendatsu.

‘Yes, that is what I meant,’ he agreed.

‘I think we need to turn Vales into a country,’ Huw voiced the thought that had popped into his head when he had been talking to Sendatsu.

‘What do you mean?’ Rhiannon turned around, slowing her horse, although making sure she kept Huw between herself and Sendatsu.

‘At the moment it’s just a collection of villages. There is some trade between them, but only when one has something the other needs. Some villages are so poor they are almost sinking in the mud, while others are rich enough to buy elven-built houses off the others, because they are lucky enough to have coal or tin or iron ore they can mine. Normally there’s no way they could be brought together, for the rich are not going to give up what they have, and traditional rivals like Patcham and Crumlin won’t work together. But this Forlish attack is not normal. We
would not want, nor need a ruler like a king. Instead, we would have a council of leaders, get each village to vote for a headman and for them to come together, get them to agree on the best way forwards for the Velsh. So a loose alliance but an alliance nevertheless. Together there is much we could achieve. We might even have a chance of holding back the Forlish, should they come …’

Huw trailed off, aware he had been caught up in his vision. Well, not really his vision. His father had talked about it often enough, how the Velsh should work together, rather than work against each other, the way they did now.

‘It is a brave idea,’ Rhiannon declared. ‘But there’s no reason why it can’t work. Everyone can surely see how it is in their best interests to band together …’

‘They won’t,’ Huw sighed. ‘I know that already. But we have to try. And what we are doing is the perfect way to begin. We are meeting so many villagers, getting to know the men in charge of each village — saving some of them, even. It is the first step.’

‘And we can achieve all this in one moon?’ Sendatsu asked doubtfully.

‘Yes, we can. And we need to, because time is running out for Vales. But, once we do, it will be simplicity itself to get you the answers you seek.’

Sendatsu said nothing. He could not see it being that simple. He needed to think what to do — use the threat of Rhiannon on Huw or try something else entirely.

‘Down!’ Broyle hissed, and the others ducked obediently.

His plan had begun well — within a day they had come across a group of dispirited Forlish, who had been beaten away from an attack on a village called Harlech. Just sixteen strong now, they were all that were left of a two-score group that had been terrorising the biggest village in Gwent — only for the rabbits to suddenly grow fangs.

‘We had them at our mercy,’ they told him. All their sergeants and corporals were dead, so they were happy to follow his orders.
‘We were slaughtering the Velsh like sheep. Then this elf joined in — no one could stop him.’

‘I know — I saw him in action,’ Broyle agreed.

‘And they had these strange crossbows — able to loose bolt after bolt into us,’ another man remembered.

‘Then the whole village came at us — hundreds of them! We could not stand against them,’ another mumbled.

‘Well, follow me and I promise you there will be revenge,’ Broyle vowed, explaining his plan.

They loved the idea, and followed him eagerly. He now had horsemen, enough so they did not have to live off the land, but could start thinking about raiding isolated farms and even unprotected villages for everything they needed.

Then his last scout spotted three figures riding towards them and Broyle could not resist the opportunity. The villages were not going anywhere and the chance to get his revenge on the elf, the bard and the dancer was too good to pass up.

‘Ambush!’ he ordered.

After what happened last time, he was not going to play around and try to be complicated. He was just going to swamp them.

‘Where to now, sir?’

Hector plastered a look of confidence over his face.

‘As before, corporal,’ he said pompously. ‘We shall follow them, while searching for more brave Forlish fighting men who might be in the area. After all, we have the king’s seal, so they are bound to help us. Another dozen men and the recapture of my daughter will be easy.’

They had spent the last night in Brynmawr and were now riding east.

‘They have not been out here, so we need to search elsewhere,’ Hector said.

‘Shall we ride around?’

Hector looked at where the corporal was pointing, to a patch of broken ground and thick woodland.

‘We’d never ride through there in Balia, sir. Too obvious a place for an ambush.’

‘Don’t be a fool, man! We’re Forlish! We want to find our own men! Besides, as soon as they hear our voices, they will know who we are.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You ride first,’ Hector added hastily.

‘Here they come,’ Broyle whispered. ‘Pass the word.’ He had walked the track himself, tried to spot his men — and ordered extra cover cut for some, while moving others until they were invisible, yet close to the road. Not even an elf could spot them, he concluded with satisfaction.

‘Remember the orders — take them but we want them alive!’

Three riders were now approaching slowly. Broyle could hear them but could not see them — that was too risky — and so needed to judge carefully the right time to strike. The horses were moving slowly and he had to curb his impatience. The time for revenge was so close!

‘This looks like the perfect spot,’ a strange voice said.

Broyle did not understand what it meant but feared it signalled one of his men had been seen. He dared not wait any longer.

‘Now!’ he roared, leaping up and out of cover, a thick branch in his hands. He had ordered all swords kept sheathed, for he did not want any of the three dead. Yet.

As he burst out of the bushes his first thought was joy, as he saw the shock on the closest face — then he almost stopped in surprise himself for this trio was not the one he wanted. There was no bard or dancer — although there seemed to be three elves, all of whom were drawing swords and preparing to fight back.