Bridge of Swords (41 page)

But there were fewer of these around and his men were getting hungry — and restless. They had taken little plunder and were a long way from any taverns or whores. So Leofric had brought them into the northern province in the hopes of finding both more undefended villages and richer pickings.

‘No wall around this one, sir — but they might have seen us coming,’ his scout reported.

Leofric spat as he looked up at the village. He could tell it was there from the smoke, and while he could glimpse huts in among the mining spoil, there was little movement. He chewed his lip as he contemplated moving on in search of yet another village. He glanced over his shoulder at his men, who were eating the last of their food and trying to fix broken saddles and tack. Already a handful had horses that were going lame. They needed a rich haul.

‘We go in. Fast. If they have seen us, why aren’t they running?’ he decided.

‘Maybe they are planning a trap, sir,’ his scout suggested.

‘Velsh? A trap? With what? They have no army, no flag, no weapons — nothing. They won’t be able to stop us,’ Leofric snorted.

And so it seemed as they rode swiftly up the rutted path into the village. It was not too steep, for both animals and carts had to make the trip safely, which meant it did not travel in a straight line but instead zigzagged up the hillside. Nobody was running, there was no sign of alarm — it was just as he hoped, just as it had been when they had first come to Vales.

The horses, blowing hard from the long ride and then the gallop up the path, slowed down as they reached the top and began to thread their way through the piles of mine spoil. Ahead, Leofric could see both the village and a handful of people running away. He relaxed.

Then an arrow flew down and tore out his throat.

The shocked Forlish watched as their captain flew backwards out of his saddle and crashed into the ground, a white-feathered arrow sticking out of the bloody mess that had been his neck. But they had no time to react.

Men appeared on the top of the spoil piles now, men cheering and singing, standing beneath a flag of a red dragon. Men who held strange bows. These were not the crossbows that loosed small bolts no thicker than a finger or much longer than a foot. These unleashed arrows the length of a man’s arm, tipped with a wicked steel head. Many of these missed but those that hit sent men and horses tumbling to the ground. And the Forlish were packed together, making them an easier target.

‘Off the horses! At them!’

The sergeants jumped down from the horses, which could never hope to make it up the slopes of loose earth and rock, and led a rush at their tormentors. But the slopes were almost impossible to climb, especially while holding swords. Men needed to use both hands to steady themselves and, even then, many slipped and fell, rolling back down and often bringing others down with them. All the time the arrows snapped at them, often missing but also striking and hurling men over. Then, just as the first Forlish were getting close to their prey, one of the bowmen threw down his bow and drew his sword.

‘At them!’ he bellowed and lunged down the slope.

Bows clattered to the ground, swords were drawn and the Forlish were astonished to see the bowmen run at them.

The tombs were even darker and dustier than Asami remembered. She had a picture of it in her mind, and an idea where the books would be waiting at the back, but it was too hard to see, even though moonlight was shining into the tombs from the cracks she had opened in the roof and back wall. She could have used the dust that lay thickly on every surface, ignited it into a fiery ball — but she feared she would need all her energy for magic before this night was out. Besides, she had placed a candle in her pack for a reason.

She lit it swiftly and then hurried forwards, dodging past the actual tombs to where she remembered the cabinet of books stood.

They were right where she expected them to be — a huge case pressed against a wall. Swiftly she scanned it for a lock, not really paying attention to the books inside. Once she had access to them she could scan them properly, find the ones she needed. She planned to smash open the weapons cabinet afterwards, take some of those items as well. With a little luck, she could take just one or two books, lock up the book cabinet again and nobody would know these had been her real target.

The lock was tucked underneath and she reached for the magic, using it to heat the metal inside the lock, allow it to spring open. With a reluctant squeal, it clicked back and she could throw open the doors. She had expected the books to smell stale and musty but there was nothing like that. No matter, Sendatsu’s return was within her grasp. She reached out a hand and touched one, feeling its slightly rough cover …

Next moment the whole building shook, like a tree in a gale. She snatched her hand back instinctively before she realised it could not be her.

‘Come out! We have the building surrounded! Don’t make us come in there!’ a magically enhanced voice boomed through the tombs.

Asami glanced up in horror. It sounded much like Jaken’s voice. And if he was here, then she had been betrayed. She would be lucky to escape with mere banishment … If she sealed up the cabinet now, pretended this had all been a joke, she might just escape. But if she left without the precious books, then Sendatsu would be lost forever. There would be no second chance at this.

Even as she thought that, she reached in to grab a handful of books — only for another hand to haul her back and away.

Sendatsu had hidden on the rear slope of the spoil with half the dragons. It had been a hard wait but he kept his fears to himself. He needed to set an example. Several of the men had slipped
down to the bottom to empty their bowels — only the fact they were so young and thought they were invincible thanks to their elven training stopped even more signs of fear. So he smiled and tried to look relaxed, although inside he was worrying about keeping them safe. The thought of seeing them die had his insides knotting themselves ever tighter.

As the Forlish slowed at the top of the slope he rolled to his feet and stood, sighting on their officer. He willed the arrow to strike home — and let out a huge breath of relief when it tore out the man’s throat, although he had been aiming for the chest. It was the signal and the dragons surged to their feet and began pouring arrows down. Most of these missed — but any that hit were deadly, while Sendatsu picked off man after man. He glanced left and right and the dragons were all standing strong. He looked down at the Forlish, struggling to climb up the piles of spoil to get to his boys, and dropped his bow. He had planned to just loose arrows at them but too many were missing. He would have to take them on. While he quailed at the thought, his dragons were taking so much heart from the simple act of singing that he drew his sword and pointed it at the Forlish.

‘At them!’ he bellowed and led the charge down the slope.

The leading Forlish looked up in surprise, for they had been concentrating just on staying on their feet. They were also tired, breathing hard from the climb — and Sendatsu and the dragons had all the momentum. Too much momentum, for once they began, it was impossible to stop. Sendatsu unleashed a massive cut that the first Forlishman could not block. His sword crashed through a despairing parry and sank deep into the man’s chest. Sendatsu twisted his blade, ripping it clear, but could not recover in time to strike the next man. No matter. He swivelled and shoulder-charged the Forlishman, sending him flying and giving himself the time to use the tiger-claw stroke, which split apart a Forlish head.

Behind him his dragons flooded into the gap he had created, hacking and slashing with more enthusiasm than skill but using numbers and the advantage of speed and height to drive their
veteran foes downhill. Above them was the flag bearer, the only dragon who had not charged, who instead waved the dragon flag from side to side.

From inside the village, Huw and Rhiannon saw the signal and led the rest of the dragons out, charging down the path into the Forlish who were falling back in disarray. It was too much for even troops as good as the Forlish, who turned and ran, grabbing their horses if they could, just sprinting for it if they could not get near a horse.

‘Chase them! Get every horse, every sword you can!’ Huw worked his crossbow, aiming at their legs to bring down as many Forlish as he could. A man might not die but neither could he run with one or more bolts in his legs.

The dragons responded, overtaking the runners, until only a dozen mounted Forlish were able to get away. The others, seeing themselves trapped, turned and fought back to back, surrounded by knots of dragons who brought them down one by one, like dogs flinging themselves on a bear.

Sendatsu seemed to be everywhere, his sword flashing red wherever he went, and he always seemed to be where a dragon was in danger, until there were no more Forlish standing, only those lying flat, hands on their heads, or flopping around in agony.

‘We did it!’ Huw reined in his horse by Sendatsu, who was covered with Forlish blood.

‘This was nothing,’ Sendatsu growled, looking to where two of his dragons were trying to help a dying third.

‘Wrong. This was the start. Now the people will see we are just as good as the Forlish,’ Huw corrected.

‘Time to go,’ Gaibun said firmly.

‘But the books — Jaken — what are you doing here?’ Asami cried.

‘Trying to save your life. Jaken is out there with half the Border Patrol and in no mood to take prisoners. I saw them coming and doubled back here — most are still flooding
through the woods but if we don’t go now, they will have the place surrounded. I gave them conflicting orders, sent most of them off in the wrong directions, but, while they recognised my voice, they will also recognise we are not in the area I sent them unless we hurry.’

‘But the books … Sendatsu …’

‘Quickly then! Time is running out!’

Asami saw the ones with blue covers, as Sumiko had said, and grabbed a handful at random. She stuffed them into her bag and turned to go.

‘This way.’ Gaibun pulled her towards the back of the building, not towards the front. ‘Jaken’s own archers are out there. To go out the front is death.’

‘But there is no other way out!’

‘You made one when you used the trees. How else did you think I got here?’

They hurried to the far end, where the stone wall had split and made an opening wide enough for one person to squeeze through.

‘Wait!’ Asami held Gaibun back. ‘First let me use the trees to clear our path.’

She closed her eyes and reached into the magic, feeling the trees come alive around her, the branches sweeping across the open ground in all directions. Elves were trying to fight her, to stop the trees, but she pushed through the opposition, although she could feel her strength draining.

The wooden doors at the front of the building blew in, clattering and smashing their way into the stone tombs. It broke her concentration and both she and Gaibun ducked instinctively.

Next moment the dark interior was ablaze with light — literally ablaze as a dozen lanterns were hurled inside, smashing and spreading pools of burning oil.

‘Time to go.’ Gaibun squeezed through the gap and held back a hand for her. She slipped through, turning sideways, panting for breath, her legs wobbly after what she had done with the magic. The old stone was unbelievably thick and rough and she felt her clothing catch and snag on it as she squeezed through. Gaibun
held her left hand, pulling her out, while her right was clasped around the top of the bag of books.

‘We’re clear, the elves out here are all down — but not for long. Move!’ Gaibun pulled on her hand but the bag was stuck. Desperately she pulled at it with her remaining strength — and it ripped and tore, the books spilling out back into the building. She stared at it in shocked surprise, trying to think but struggling with the magic fatigue. She could have sworn that bag could not have ripped. The tear had appeared as if by magic …

‘Come on!’ Gaibun hauled her away and she could not fight him.

‘Wait!’ She dropped to the ground, the only way to get him to stop. ‘The books — they fell out …’ She held up the torn bag as evidence.

‘We cannot go back,’ Gaibun told her grimly.

She opened her mouth to protest but an arrow zipped between them before she could speak.

‘Move!’ Gaibun yanked her to her feet and she found new strength to run, while arrows whistled past them. Only the dark, and their dark clothing, saved them.

Once in the trees, they stopped, looked back. Not only were Border Patrol pouring around the building, spreading out and searching for them, but smoke was pouring out of the old tombs. And none were making any move to fight the spreading fire, even though the stream was right beside it.

‘They’re going to let it burn,’ Gaibun said, confirming what she was already thinking.

‘We can’t … we have to do something,’ Asami moaned.

‘We have to get away. That is all we can do.’ Gaibun began guiding her away. She did not have the strength, nor the will to stop him.

‘But Sendatsu …’

‘Will have to find his own way home,’ Gaibun said coldly.

Almost blinded by tears of frustration, her mind a whirl of exhaustion and despair, Asami stumbled along beside him.

Although they had lost three of their dragons, with another eight wounded, it made a dramatic difference. Not only had the survivors gained a swagger but the villagers had seen other Velshmen drive away the Forlish. Their losses were made up in a day, with more than a score of young men eager to sign up, while ‘Land of My Fathers’ was being sung around fires every night.

And the headman was completely won over. Merthyr was a rich village, even able to afford to buy elven buildings from poorer villages, ship them up to Merthyr and then rebuild them there. The tin that came out of Merthyr was much in demand to make brass and Huw had suspected the headman, Griff, would be less than impressed at the prospect of becoming part of Vales if it meant handing over some of his riches. But, after seeing the dragon flag drive back the Forlish, he was caught up in the mood of excitement.