by Duncan Lay
Behind her, the hedges swelled and loomed.
‘Do you want to help Sendatsu or not? The books with the blue leather covering are the ones we brought from Nippon. Get those books, return them to me and I can have the Council in my hand by the next moon.’
Asami bowed her head. Part of her said Sumiko was right, they had come too far to back out now. But the days she had spent away from Sumiko had given her time to think. She had always trusted her sensei, believed her tales of a better life for all in Dokuzen. But some of the things that happened the night Sendatsu had been sent away had jarred. Asami found herself questioning whether Sumiko had used magic on Hanto, to enrage him and force a confrontation with Sendatsu. And the mysterious message that so inflamed Sendatsu’s father, Jaken. Who had written that? Sumiko had so wanted to send Sendatsu into the human world. Had she manipulated events to make that happen? And was she manipulating Asami now? Asami wanted to know why the Magic-weavers had not taken the books in the long years they had sat there, gathering dust. She sensed she was getting out of her depth, wondered if she was being used by the sensei she had once trusted. But, if that was true, then she was partly to blame for sending Sendatsu out into danger. She had to get him back. She had promised to return him, to reunite him with his children. His fate and the Magic-weavers’ ambitions were now intertwined. She had promises to keep on both sides. This was the only way forwards.
‘I shall do it,’ she promised.
Behind her, the hedges stopped moving, leaving but one path forwards.
‘It will be best if we don’t speak again until you have the books,’ Sumiko said blandly.
She watched Asami leave, her mind elsewhere. She had been thinking about her father, her sensei and the previous leader of the Magic-weavers. There had been no question but that she would succeed him as their leader.
Most elves did not even consider using magic until their lessons began. But she had been training since she could walk, working on her magic, her control and her strength. Some children would have rebelled, others found a different path. But her destiny was set in stone one sunny day, while walking with her father around the main Dokuzen markets. Her father, Oshi, was known by both name and reputation and, while many people gave them both a wide berth, the stallholders and common people gave him due deference.
Until a small party of noble elves, sons and daughters of a clan leader and their high-ranking friends, had pushed in front of them at a food stall.
‘There is a line here,’ Oshi said sharply. ‘It begins behind me.’
The laughing young elves turned on him, one of them stepping in close.
‘You dare to question us? Do you know who we are?’ he snarled.
‘A rude young man?’ Oshi replied coldly.
Instantly the elf backhanded Oshi across the face, sending him tumbling to the cobbles.
‘Dog! You dare to speak to me like that?’
Oshi sprang to his feet and the young Sumiko watched excitedly, sure her father was going to teach these arrogant young fools a lesson they would never forget. She had seen his power a dozen times and no youths could hope to face him.
‘I am Oshi, sensei of the Magic-weavers and …’
‘I am Tadayoshi Moratsune Jaken,’ the young noble interrupted, ‘and Magic-weavers are subservient to us. Try anything and we shall see to it that every Magic-weaver is humbled, your entire family disgraced and sent to live as esemono.’
Oshi swelled up and Sumiko held her breath … only to let it out again as Oshi offered a deep bow.
‘My apologies, Jaken. I spoke out of turn,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Please forgive me.’
Jaken waved him away and a shocked Sumiko was dragged out of the markets by her father.
She turned to him once clear of the markets, when he slowed down enough for Sumiko to get her feet once more. She was about to demand why Oshi had not punished Jaken when she realised he was weeping, tears of frustration and anger. The sight of her beloved father, the man she admired above all others, with tears running silently down his face, made her angry words dry up in her throat.
‘Remember this day,’ he said softly, his voice furious. ‘I could have destroyed those fools in a heartbeat, only there were too many witnesses and you would have paid for it. You are more important than my pride. But this should never happen. The Magic-weavers should be acclaimed above all others, not despised. It will fall to you to restore the order to its former glory. We should rule Dokuzen, not those petty fools on the Council.’
‘I will make that happen, Father,’ Sumiko had promised that day — and promised herself again.
Now her chance was coming. She would not fail her father.
A noise behind her made her spin, to see Oroku bowing low.
‘Are we wise to put so much faith in a girl like that?’ her deputy asked.
Sumiko smiled thinly. ‘Oroku, you are gifted with the magic. But leave thoughts of strategy to me. She is the perfect tool for the job. She is stronger in magic than just about everyone else and she is also fitter than any of us, skilled with sword, bow and fist. And, best of all, she will do anything to restore her foolish lover to her side.’ Sumiko leaned across and let her fingers brush across the petals of the nearest plants, which seemed to shiver with pleasure at her touch.
‘And what if she discovers you were the one who sent the message to his father in his name, who inflamed Hanto so he acted rashly, who forced things along so Sendatsu was forced to flee?’ Oroku pressed. ‘What if she learns you needed to prove the barrier was fading but could not be sure and risked Sendatsu’s life — and her own — to create the right atmosphere of fear to overthrow the Council?’
‘By the time she finds out the truth it will be too late and our victory will be complete. She is a tool and, like all tools, may be disposed at the end of the task.’
Sumiko stretched abruptly and the flowers behind her instantly withered and died. It was all very well sharing your plans with those you needed to see them fulfilled but, equally, they did not have the wit to grasp the necessary subtleties. She sighed and unbent a little.
‘They are of great help now but will only cause problems once we have taken power. They believe in concepts of honour, in love. They will try to hold me to my promises to make a better Dokuzen.’
‘But, sensei, it will be a better Dokuzen!’
‘Of course. For us.’
Asami left Sumiko’s house, her frustration ready to boil over. She liked and admired her sensei, had thought her the wisest of the elves, been willing to follow her vision for a better Dokuzen without question. Now she doubted. Comments and actions she had dismissed in the past bobbed back to the surface and she wondered whether she had made a huge mistake in following Sumiko so closely. But now was not the time to back out. She had to return Sendatsu or she would not be able to live with herself. Get him back first and then she could worry about Sumiko.
The path from Sumiko’s villa to the main part of Dokuzen was familiar to her after the years of study; she knew the sights, sounds and even the smells she would pass.
So she knew when something was wrong. Someone was following her and doing it so well that she could not tell who it was, or where they were. She just knew they were there.
Sumiko’s words about the Council having a spy and being prepared to kill came back to her and, with a sick sensation, Asami realised she had no sword.
Sendatsu was thoroughly miserable. As he had predicted, darkness fell swiftly and, without a moon, it was soon too dark to see anything much. He had been forced to stumble along in front, using a torch to try to see the way ahead, leading Rhiannon’s horse, while Huw followed behind. His boots were caked with mud, while cold water had slopped into the left one and was squelching around his toes with every pace. Back in Dokuzen he would have ordered a halt by now — although back home he would have been on the horse, expecting servants to lead him to light and a warm bed. The fact the humans were riding and he was walking did not
seem right, somehow. He was praying for them to come across a village soon, where they could at least rest. But until then he had to keep slogging along. Telling himself this was for Mai and Cheijun did not make it much easier, or any more pleasant. But it did make him think about the role of servants in Dokuzen. They had to do whatever they were ordered, keep going no matter what. He had forced them to perform similar tasks for him before — and had not even thanked them for it afterwards. It was an uncomfortable thought.
He had little enough time to think on this, however, because Rhiannon asked him endless questions about what life was like in Dokuzen. What clothes did people wear? What did they eat? What songs did they sing? What dances did they perform? No sooner did he answer one than she had another. It was worse than Mai and Cheijun combined! He had to be careful, because he did not want to reveal too much about himself. He was out here to get information from the humans, not the other way around. When he stepped into a puddle for the third time, distracted when trying to answer one of her questions, he decided he had had enough.
‘I’m sorry, I have to concentrate on the road ahead,’ he declared and, to his relief, she accepted his excuse.
‘Of course — I’m sorry, Sendatsu, I’m just so excited about the thought of travelling with an elf, with someone who has seen the glades of Dokuzen! There is just so much I want to know. But I shall keep my questions for another time.’
‘I appreciate that,’ Sendatsu said gravely.
He could not suppress another little sigh of relief when they slogged up a slight hill to see a small village laid out across the road, the light of fires a welcome sight in the middle of the night. Sendatsu stopped, looking longingly at the warm shelter waiting ahead, if he could just but get them into it. The sogginess of his left toes and the ache in his right heel were eloquent persuaders.
‘We should push on — get as far as possible while we can,’ Huw said immediately, and Sendatsu cursed silently.
Huw had been alone with his thoughts for the trip, and they had not been pretty ones. Guilt, which had been riding close behind him these past few days, was now firmly holding the reins. If only he had left Cridianton when Ward had announced his foul plan to bring Vales under his heel. He could have left after hearing the king’s plans and been here almost a moon ago. Ahead, he could see Rhiannon by the fitful light of the torch that Sendatsu was using. She was the symbol of his guilt. If he had thought with his head rather than his breeches, then he would have been home long before the raid. His insides were knotting themselves into a ball and he just wanted to get home. Once he knew his father was safe, he would be able to relax again.
‘I think we need to rest,’ Sendatsu replied carefully. ‘The horses need rest — and so do you. It might be dangerous to push on much further. You cannot help anyone if you are falling off your horse tomorrow. Besides, don’t the people of this village deserve your warning as well?’
‘I still think we should go on,’ Huw said stubbornly.
‘Rhiannon, what do you think?’ Sendatsu asked, eager for support.
Rhiannon almost jumped in surprise. Hector had never asked her opinion and she was unused to offering it. ‘If Sendatsu thinks we should rest, then I think we should believe him. He knows far more than we do,’ she declared.
Huw gritted his teeth. He knew he would not sleep that night.
‘Huw, I know how you must be feeling. But your horse needs to rest. We shall go even slower if you have to walk,’ Sendatsu said gently, persuasively.
Huw cursed. ‘Fine. But we shall leave at first light. I know elves need little sleep.’
Sendatsu managed to stifle a yawn. ‘Where did you hear that one?’
‘Oh, everyone knows that,’ Rhiannon agreed.
‘I must meet this Everyone. He obviously knows a great deal,’ Sendatsu muttered.
The village headman was willing to let them eat and sleep in his home in exchange for a silver coin. He warmed up some sort of stew, which to Sendatsu looked like pieces of gristle floating in greasy water but Rhiannon and Huw wolfed it down.
‘Haven’t you got anything else?’ Sendatsu grumbled.
So he found himself eating cold pease pudding and hard cheese. Sendatsu emptied out his wet boot and wondered if he had made the right choice by joining these humans.
‘Do you have a bath?’ he asked hopefully.
‘What? Why would you want one of those?’
Sendatsu sighed. He was wet, cold and smelly. If he had more energy, he would have argued.
The goats were taken from their pen and out the back and fresh straw brought in for the guests, while Sendatsu shuddered as he was handed a bundled wolfskin as a blanket. He sniffed it warily. It smelled as bad as he did.
Huw and Rhiannon settled in happily enough but Sendatsu struggled to get comfortable and tried, with even less success, not to think about fleas and lice. He felt exhausted but forced himself to stay awake until he thought the others were asleep. Then he brought out his children’s toys, held them close and tried to hold back the tears. Softly, under his breath, he sung Mai her special goodnight song. He felt if he still sang it every night, then he was not really away from her. He told Cheijun not to be afraid, he would be there. He had to get answers soon. If these strange two humans were the best way, then he would put up with anything — even smelling like he did. The discomfort of wet feet was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. He kissed the toys tenderly and tucked them back in his belt pouch.
‘Stay safe until I return,’ he murmured.
Huw lay silently, unable to see what Sendatsu was doing, or hear what he was saying — but knowing he was up to something.
Gaibun had seen inside the Moratsune villa many times — although usually just the garden and Sendatsu’s room. He had never been inside Jaken’s study and, after the stories Sendatsu used to tell him, he had never wanted to go in there. Yet here he was, looking around. At first glance it seemed ordinary enough — a huge wooden desk, a pair of chairs and a selection of swords and bows on the wall as decoration amid the shelves. But when he looked closer, he realised the shelves were actually made up of hundreds and hundreds of small compartments. Inside each one, Gaibun could see a scroll, and above each one was a name. Some of those names he recognised. He wondered what was in those scrolls — and if there was a compartment with his name on it somewhere.
‘Apologies for keeping you waiting.’ Jaken stepped into the study and Gaibun could not restrain a guilty start.
‘No apology necessary, lord.’
Jaken settled himself in his chair, saw Gaibun seated and then poured tea for both of them.
This friendliness only unsettled Gaibun even more.
‘How are your father and mother?’
‘Both well, lord.’
‘Really? I heard your father was quite sick. Too ill to receive visitors.’
Gaibun paused as he was about to sip his tea. ‘No, I saw him just yesterday and I can assure you he was in perfect health …’
‘Too sick to receive visitors. That is what he needs to say. Especially when Daichi, or one of his representatives, comes calling. Understand?’
Gaibun coughed and tea nearly ran out of his nose. He used the time to get himself back under control.
‘I understand, lord. I shall tell him,’ he managed to gasp.
‘Good. But be sure to tell me who it was that called around. If they send nobody, I shall be suspicious. It will at least be clan Kaneoki’s leader, if not Daichi himself. Your father is the only other one with claim to be leader of clan Tadayoshi. They would be fools not to speak to him.’
‘Lord.’ Gaibun bowed his head. Everyone knew his father was an honourable man. It was how Jaken had outmanoeuvred him to take control of their clan.
‘And your wife, how is she?’
Gaibun put down his cup. ‘That is the reason I am here, lord. Asami is searching for a way to return your son.’
‘And you — do you also wish for him to return?’
‘No!’ Gaibun said instantly. ‘What they plan is to overthrow the Council, the clans, the order of everything!’
‘Well, I am sure they are saying that. But what they are really planning is to overthrow the Council and replace it with themselves. I doubt life in Dokuzen will change much — the esemono will be ruled by Magic-weavers, not the Council, and the clans will bow to Sumiko, rather than Daichi. What I am planning is something different. I will change life in Dokuzen. Even the lowest of the esemono will have human slaves, and all shall live a life of luxury and wealth unsurpassed. Help me and you will become the next leader of clan Tadayoshi, when I become Elder Elf.’
Gaibun looked away.
‘You do not trust me. You think I shall betray you as I betrayed your father.’
Gaibun nodded wordlessly.
‘Then you may choose not to help me. It is your decision. But I warn you, do not underestimate me. You saw my shelves while you waited. You wondered what was inside. It is knowledge. Scraps of information, secrets and gossip about every elf that matters in Dokuzen. Some owe me favours, some fear exposure. All can be used — understand?’
‘I do, lord,’ Gaibun said hoarsely.
‘I tried, for many years, to impress on my son the importance of duty. The more times I told him about his duty, the less he seemed able to grasp it. But I think you know more about duty.’
‘Yes, lord.’
‘I have been preparing for a very long time. All is nearly ready. I can do this with you, or without you. Which will it be?’
‘I am ready to serve my clan and my people. And you, lord.’
‘Good. You will be well rewarded. You shall not regret this. You are the perfect elf. The sort of son I wish I’d had.’
Sendatsu came awake with a start, to find Rhiannon and Huw dressed and waiting for him.
‘What time is it?’ he asked, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
‘Just after dawn. We need to be on the road now!’ Huw implored.
Sendatsu agreed, only for different reasons.
