by Duncan Lay
‘Sendatsu! The Elder Elf is here! You must come and greet him now!’ she ordered, her voice cutting through the boisterous noise.
Asami looked around, waiting to see which of the buffoons answered the call. Then her new friend sighed and stood.
‘I have to do what Mother wants, or Father will be furious,’ he said. ‘Do you want to come and meet the Elder Elf too?’
He held out his hand. Shock and embarrassment made Asami hesitate for just a moment, then she took it. She had never wanted to let go since. But, of course, life was never that easy. Her father was still talking and she forced herself to listen. ‘I do hope you plan to have nothing more to do with him. After all, what was it all about? Some ridiculous claim that the elves may not be born with magic and the barrier is fading!’
‘But the barrier is dying, otherwise I would not have been able to send Sendatsu through it.’
‘Well, you can repair it then,’ her mother said fondly. ‘Just look at you — you are proof of the power of the magic within the elven people …’
That was too much for Asami. ‘How many people do you know who use magic in their everyday lives?’ she snapped.
‘Well, you can hardly blame them. It is hard work and tiring. Doing something yourself, or having a servant do it for you, is far easier,’ her mother pointed out.
‘But if magic is our gift, if it is as natural to an elf as breathing, why do you not use it?’ she demanded.
‘Do not use that tone of voice on me,’ her father warned.
‘We know what you are saying, dear,’ her mother said defensively. ‘And you are right. Too many people pass their Test and then set it aside. But you have to understand, when you work for a living, when you have children to feed and look after, you do not have the time to devote to study. And when you are already tired, you do not have the energy to use on magic …’
‘Excuses. The truth is, fewer and fewer of us have true magic power, other than the ability to perform a few tricks,’ Asami interrupted.
‘This conversation is ridiculous. And we shall talk of it no more,’ her father snapped.
Asami bowed her head. Her frustration was a hard thing to control. She loved her parents but she wanted a different path for herself. Blindly obeying what her clan leader and the Council told her to do just felt wrong. And once she’d seen what her clan leader and sensei were really like, and realised they did not deserve her full respect, it was hard to keep her tongue still.
‘How is Gaibun?’ her mother asked. ‘Are there grandchildren on the way?’
‘Not just yet. I need to concentrate on my studies with sensei Sumiko,’ Asami said carefully, preparing for another conversation on another familiar topic. The Festival of Summer was less than a moon away. More importantly, in a couple of days’ time she could reopen the gateway and see if Sendatsu was there. Until then, she just had to bite her tongue.
Work went on in the village, with the pace hardly slowing. Huw and Rhiannon led the people in song while Sendatsu directed their efforts. The cut trees were lashed together in panels, dragged across by horses and raised with poles and ropes, then the soft earth packed around them, rammed down hard until they were fixed solid. Bracers were propped against them inside the village perimeter, while children and women dug more holes outside — horse pits, simple holes only a foot deep and no wider than the span of two hands. Once one section of the palisade was complete, they went to work until the ground outside was so full of holes that it resembled a cheesecloth. But, as Sendatsu said, any horse that put its hoof into a hole would end up with a broken leg, both breaking up a charge and slowing it down.
For the gate, two trunks were left whole, then had spikes of wood hammered into one face, so that side resembled a hedgehog, then thick rounds attached to the whole, acting as wheels, so it could be dragged across the gate opening.
Although he was chafing at every day they spent there, Sendatsu was impressed at the way the villagers worked, each day still cheerful and willing to sing. The palisade grew swiftly and he had to admit no elf could have worked harder, nor faster — although they would have worked with stone, not wood.
Of course, they had plenty of motivation. It was a rare morning when smoke did not stain the sky in one direction or another, the signal that another village had been raided. The villagers worked harder than ever on those days.
Sendatsu had washed again in the stream — but it was not the same. However, several women from the village saw him trying to clean mud off his tunic and, when he returned to work looking much the same, offered him fresh clothes. He mumbled his thanks as he took them, relieved he could at least wear something clean, even if he did not feel clean.
Then came the day — which he was half dreading — when the village’s best carpenters came to see him, Huw and Rhiannon.
‘It has taken us longer than we thought,’ their leader, Kelyn, admitted.
Sendatsu was about to launch into his prepared speech about the difficulties of humans replicating something an elf had invented when Kelyn produced a crossbow with a grin.
‘But we have one that works — watch!’
Kelyn dropped a handful of simple wooden bolts, with no proper head or crossvanes on them, into the little box hopper, then pointed it at the palisade, about ten yards away. Holding it with his left hand, he worked the handle with his right hand, back and forth, each cycle sending another bolt whistling out, where they bounced off the wood, although one or two stuck into the rough-sawn trunks.
Sendatsu took the crossbow from Kelyn and inspected it, struggling to hide his awe as the humans applauded each other. How had that man managed to come up with this from his rough drawings?
It looked different from the one back at the tombs of his forefathers, the wood was darker, but it worked fine. Not that he had seen the other one work but he could not imagine it doing much better than this. The bow itself was a series of pieces of wood, laminated and secured together, while the string was the rolled sinew of some beast. A lever pulled the string back until it dropped into a narrow trigger slot, which then allowed one of the bolts to drop into the firing groove. Pushing the lever forwards triggered the action, loosing the bolt, then pulling the lever back repeated it. It was just as the elves had built.
‘What do you think?’ Kelyn asked.
Sendatsu glanced over and saw they were all desperate for his verdict. He hid his genuine admiration.
‘Well done. It has taken you a while but the wait was worth it,’ he said pompously. ‘Make a dozen, and then I’ll be happy.’
‘They’ll be done in two days,’ Kelyn promised.
‘That is brilliant,’ Huw said fervently. ‘Wonderful work, all of you!’
‘You have done something worthy of the best of the elves!’ Rhiannon agreed and, grinning, the carpenters hurried away.
That comment set Sendatsu’s teeth on edge. Comparisons between elf and human were the biggest barrier to his quest. He waited until the carpenters were a safe distance away before turning to Rhiannon. ‘They have done better than I could have hoped, but you need to be careful comparing things to the elves,’ he said quietly. ‘Unless you have seen Dokuzen, you should not say such things …’
‘Well, take me there and then I can judge it all for myself.’ She pouted.
Sendatsu was reminded of Mai, when she wanted to have another plum, or some other treat.
‘Just be careful with what you say. I am having enough problems with the huge difference between what humans expect from elves, and the reality of our differences,’ Sendatsu said hurriedly. ‘Now I must go and supervise the last section of palisade.’
‘He’ll take me there,’ Rhiannon predicted confidently, once he had moved away.
‘It may not be all you hope,’ Huw warned.
‘How can you say that? It’s Dokuzen, the home of the elves! We’ve both dreamed of seeing it!’
‘There is something he is not telling us.’
‘What are you going on about?’
; ‘This quest of his, to find the truth about what happened three centuries ago, and to find evidence of human magic or worship of Aroaril. Some of it does not make sense. Surely they know all about it back in Dokuzen. And why the rush? Why does he have to find it out so quickly and then hurry to return home? I feel there is something else, something he is not telling us …’
‘I think you are seeing problems where none exist,’ Rhiannon said firmly. ‘We are just lucky he is here with us, showing us how to protect the Velsh. We have to do all we can to keep him here as long as possible — and that means making him happy, and not saying anything to upset him!’
Huw sighed. ‘Look, have you noticed — each night he takes something out from his pouch and sings at it. He has something secret and magic in there, I tell you!’
‘Well, I have never seen him late at night,’ Rhiannon said defiantly.
Huw silently thanked his lucky stars for that. Rhiannon had his father’s room, while Sendatsu had Huw’s old room and Huw slept in the main chamber. He had wanted his old room but Rhiannon had insisted that was impossible, the elf deserved it. It had become their custom to talk together each night, after the day’s work, though not for long — Huw was exhausted by day’s end, as was Rhiannon, for neither was used to heavy manual work. Huw’s hands had been agony for the first two days and he had been genuinely afraid it might affect his lyre playing at one point. Only thoughts of his father, anger and guilt gave him the strength to keep going.
They talked of many things — the day’s progress, the mood of the people, singing and dancing. But, after failing to find anything written down in his father’s room that might provide some answers, they had not really spoken of legends of the elves. And while Rhiannon often dropped hints about being taken to see Dokuzen, Sendatsu swiftly changed the subject. Huw had spotted the pattern but he doubted Rhiannon had. She was too busy giggling and hanging on Sendatsu’s every word, he reflected bitterly.
Several times he wanted to sit Rhiannon down and talk about her father, what had really happened at Cridianton. But he was afraid that would drive her away, or into Sendatsu’s arms, which was worse. He could see the looks Rhiannon gave Sendatsu, the way she brushed her hair when she spoke to him, the way she took every opportunity to touch his leg or arm. The elf was not giving her much encouragement but it drove Huw crazy. He might be an elf but Huw doubted Sendatsu could stop himself if a sobbing Rhiannon flung herself into his arms, begging for comfort. Huw certainly would not be able to resist that — he could barely resist her now.
It was a stupid, selfish reason not to tell her the truth but he could not risk losing her completely. After all, they were still good friends, and she had been a great help in the first few days, when his grief had been a raging animal inside him. Just sitting with her, holding her hand as he talked about his father, helped ease the crushing pressure inside his chest. He had high hopes their friendship would become something more. Telling her the truth would end that hope. Perhaps if he waited a little longer, things would happen naturally between them, and she could be told the truth afterwards, when she might be able to put it into perspective.
‘I just don’t want to see you hurt. I know you would dearly love to see Dokuzen — but maybe such a thing is impossible. Or it may be as Sendatsu said, and not this wonderful place we have built up in our minds. Maybe we would be disappointed if we ever went there.’
‘I doubt that!’ Rhiannon smiled. She knew Huw was in love with her. It was impossible to miss. She had grown used to seeing adoring looks thrown her way. She had also been used to lustful gazes, which only confirmed everything her father had told her about men.
As for Huw, sometimes she felt going to him might expunge her guilt, absolve her from the way she kept him in Cridianton and, unwittingly, led to his father’s death. But she instinctively felt a relationship begun like that would be doomed to fail. Besides, there was so much to see, so much to explore. Dokuzen, for one! She dreamed every night of going there and hoped with all her heart Sendatsu would take her there. Away from the dirt, the work, the fear of raiders and the brutality of this world. To somewhere peaceful, beautiful, where art, music and dance were given their due honour. Sendatsu was the key. She would use whatever it took to reach him. The fact he was an elf was attractive enough but to see him with his tunic off … There was also something about him, a hint of sadness, of darkness even, that he tried to hide, which she sensed and found immensely appealing.
‘Come on, Huw — let’s see the last piece of the fence go in.’
She linked arms with Huw and instantly his scowl disappeared, as she knew it would, and he accompanied her willingly to join the rest of the village, smiling at the people and the children they knew, as a sweating gang of men, stripped to their waists, moved the last section of palisade into place. As they hammered it home, rammed the earth around its base, the whole village cheered and applauded.
‘We have done a great thing!’ Huw roared, his voice echoing over the cheers. ‘It has been hard but you, your children and your children’s children will be safe because of the work we have done here!’
This time they clapped each other, patted each other on the back and Huw waved for Sendatsu to step forwards.
‘And here is the elf who has helped us!’
Sendatsu could not help but feel a surge of pride as they cheered him. True, they were only humans and would be the subject of contempt back in Dokuzen. But the palisade was tangible evidence he had done something useful. Perhaps his father was wrong, he was not hopeless.
‘You did well,’ he managed to say. ‘I was pleased to work with you.’
His few words had them all cheering each other again. He looked around and could not keep the smile off his face.
A feast was planned to mark the occasion and, although the people were tired from the days of hard work, they were happy to prepare a celebration.
Fire pits were dug, men drank, women rebraided their hair and children played. Even Sendatsu found himself laughing. It had all gone well here and tomorrow they would ride on to a new village, the neighbouring Crumlin, which had elven buildings. The four widows from the woods had spoken to him, Delia and Maegen telling him they were grateful for being saved, very happy to be back with their families and how it had all been a misunderstanding due to the shock and stress of what had happened on that fateful day.
Then, when he found himself actually tantalised by the smell of roasting meat, it all changed.
‘Raiders!’
The shout, delivered at the top of a breaking teenage voice, silenced the laughter instantly.
In the same move, all looked towards Sendatsu and he realised, with horror, they expected him to save them. He managed to calm his hammering heart and control his voice.
‘Where? How many?’
‘A dozen, riding towards us! They’re about a mile off!’
Sendatsu could see the fear rippling through the crowd and he felt it himself. He did not think he could face them if it all went wrong and the raiders got in here. He wanted to rage at Huw and Rhiannon for getting him into this. But he took a deep breath and got himself back under control, a little. He waved at the villagers.
‘Get a weapon and get to the gate,’ he snapped.
Now they moved with a purpose, and he led the rush back to Huw’s house, where his bow and arrows waited.
‘What should we do? Do you think they will ride in and attack?’ Huw asked. He was torn between fear and hatred of these raiders. ‘Can you kill them all?’
‘We’ll see,’ Sendatsu said grimly. He was confident of his bow but unsure of how the villagers would act, after the way they had not fought back when the first raiding party struck.
He took his sword, while Huw selected a long knife that his father had used for butchering sheep.
‘What can I use?’ Rhiannon demanded.
‘You need to stay here, in safety,’ Huw said instantly.
‘What’s safe about it? I would do more good bei
ng out there,’ Rhiannon insisted. ‘I don’t want to sit here and worry — I am not some housewife, to be ordered to stay behind!’
But the pair of them had already run out. Rhiannon swore — she had learned some good ones from the woodcutters — and hunted around for another knife.
Sendatsu forced himself to run to the gate, knowing the people were expecting to see a warrior elf, would take confidence from him, although his bowels were churning and his palms sweaty. Huw was at his shoulder, sure being with an elf was the greatest guarantee of safety.
Glyn and some of the other villagers who lived closer to the gate had already dragged the hedgehog across to block the way in. The trunks bristling with wooden spikes made an impressive barrier and Sendatsu took heart from it, knowing that few, if any, horses would be prepared to jump that.
Villagers clutching axes, saws, hoes, shovels and sticks were bunching up behind the gate now, nervously, but taking comfort from their numbers.
By now the raiders were in sight, a small group of men on tall horses, dressed not in armour but in tunics. All carried bright swords or axes. They rode along steadily until about one hundred and fifty yards away.
‘That’s close enough,’ Sendatsu decided, hoping a warning would scare them off. He nocked an arrow and loosed, sending it arching down to land in the road just in front of them.
Instantly the raiders stopped, the leader dismounting to pick up the arrow and inspect it, before climbing back on his horse. They sat there, just watching, for what seemed like an age, then turned and rode back the way they came.
They could not have failed to hear the roar of mingled triumph and relief from the villagers as they disappeared.
Men embraced each other, patted Sendatsu on the back and cheered themselves, as if they had won a famous victory.
‘That showed them!’ someone crowed.
‘They won’t be back,’ Glyn vowed.
‘What do you think?’ Huw asked Sendatsu quietly.
The elf shrugged, unwilling to commit himself.
‘They’ll be back,’ Rhiannon warned. ‘They are Forlish. We don’t give up that easily. They just didn’t have enough men to get in through the gate. They’ll get more men and they’ll be back in a few days.’
