Bridge of Swords

by Duncan Lay

  The trail was relatively open here, being used by Crumliners for hunting and for grazing pigs among the trees, and he rode as fast as he dared, knowing the other two were close behind from the sound of the hooves beating on the earth. The back of his neck was itching and he slowed down, sure the other half of the trap was about to be sprung.

  Just as he feared, four men jumped out of the undergrowth ahead, swords in hands. They were obviously Forlish raiders but whether stragglers or part of a larger group, he had no time to wonder. They spread out a little, to attack him from either side. He glanced from one to another, judging if he could crash through them — and hope to emerge safely on the other side. But all looked solid, tough men, all were handling their swords confidently so he hauled on his reins instead.

  ‘Off the horses!’ he shouted at Huw and Rhiannon, intending to unstrap his bow and use that to clear the way — and hope he could do that before the rest of the Forlish arrived.

  But while Rhiannon managed to drag her horse to a stop with one hand — she had the packhorse tied to hers and it slowed her down — Huw’s hands were full of elven crossbow. In fact, he was barely staying in the saddle as it was. While he tried to pull on the reins, the horse did not stop and instead kept going towards the four Forlishmen, although it was slowing down so would not even have speed and momentum to crash through. However, it was doing a fine job of hiding the Forlish from Sendatsu, so he dared not loose an arrow.

  Sendatsu swore and kicked his horse back into a gallop. Even as he did so he knew he could not reach Huw in time. The sensible thing would be to jump down, string his bow and wait for Huw’s fall to allow him to loose at the Forlish. He would be able to clear the way ahead and, at the very least, avenge Huw. Risking his life for a man who was stopping him from getting back home was stupid — but Sendatsu did not think of that. He only knew he could never live with himself if he left the bard to die without trying to help him.

  He shouted at the top of his lungs, brandished his sword in the vain hope the Forlish would be distracted. But they knew what they were doing. They were concentrating on killing Huw — and there was nothing Sendatsu could do. Instead of stopping he pushed his horse even harder, overtaking Huw but not fast enough …

  Huw managed to get his crossbow around and worked the lever twice, as best he could from the saddle, although where the bolts went, nobody could say.

  The Forlish were about to strike when arrows flickered out of the bushes to the right, throwing three of the Forlish backwards like rag dolls.

  Sendatsu stared in shock at the familiar look and sound of longbow arrows striking home — but that was nothing compared to the effect it had on the last Forlishman. He forgot about Huw and instead stared in horror at what had happened to his comrades. Too late he remembered about Huw, whose horse smashed him backwards and then blundered onwards. Huw still held his crossbow and the impact knocked him from the saddle. The bard fell heavily to the ground, losing his crossbow, while his horse kept going at a trot.

  Sendatsu arrived a moment later and jumped down, landing lightly beside the bard.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he shouted.

  A dazed Huw got his arms beneath him but he was obviously winded and struggled to stand. Sendatsu hoped that was the only thing wrong with him.

  ‘Bastard!’

  The surviving Forlishman rolled to his feet and raced across, sword held over his right shoulder, ready to be brought down in a massive blow.

  Sendatsu sprang to meet him and thrust forwards even as the Forlishman began his extravagant stroke. The Forlishman ran onto Sendatsu’s blade and died there. Sendatsu flung the body away and stared back down the trail. More Forlish had appeared from the rocks and bushes closer to the village, just as he had feared they would do. While they were running now, they were too far away to be a threat. Of more concern was how they had been saved by mysterious archers. A quick glance told him these were expert bowmen — three arrows and three Forlish had been downed instantly, impaled on the classic long arrow. One was already dead, the other two not far behind. And perhaps these archers had saved him twice, for who had given them the warning by rustling bushes in the first place?

  ‘Rhiannon! Quick!’ he roared, for she was still fifty yards down the trail. He turned back to Huw, who was on his knees now, and got his arm under the bard’s shoulders, supported him as he hustled him down to where both their horses waited, ten yards away.

  ‘Wait! The crossbow!’ Huw protested, wheezing.

  Sendatsu told him what he thought of the crossbow.

  ‘No, we need it!’ Huw tried to turn back, fought Sendatsu’s effort to keep him moving until Sendatsu swore again, shoved the bard towards the horses and turned back to grab the crossbow. He picked it up as Rhiannon raced past him.

  ‘Keep going!’ he ordered. Despite his reluctance to go for the crossbow, in truth there was little risk. Those Forlish were on foot and too far away. He turned around, intending to race for his horse, when a whisper of noise made him turn again.

  A sword whistled for his head in the unmistakeable dragon-tail stroke and it was only his years of practice that allowed him to block it.

  ‘You’re coming back with us, Sendatsu — dead or alive!’ the familiar face of Hanto snarled at him.

  Sendatsu was so shocked to see Hanto he nearly dropped his guard, and deflected a tiger-claw cut only with difficulty. Sendatsu was about to launch his own attack when, behind Hanto, he saw a pair of elves racing through the bushes. Without thinking, he stepped back and levelled the crossbow at Hanto.

  He knew it could not be used with one hand — and had no idea if it would work ever again after Huw dropped it — but pointed it anyway, guessing Hanto would not know it was an empty threat.

  The elf instinctively dived for cover and Sendatsu used the opportunity to turn and sprint for the horses.

  ‘Stand and fight!’ The Forlish shouts did not scare him — in fact they reassured him. If the Forlish were that close, then Hanto and his companions could not chase him without fighting them first.

  Ahead, Huw had managed to get on his horse, while Rhiannon was leading Sendatsu’s horse back towards him. He sheathed his bloody sword and leaped into the saddle.

  ‘Let’s get out of here!’ he roared at them.

  Only as they were galloping down the trail did he wonder if they had seen him fighting another elf.

  Broyle slowed to a stop, watched them ride away and cursed loudly and fluently. It had been a clever trap — but had proved too clever. He had expected the elf would be able to spot an ambush, so held his men far back from the trail. But when he had seen the trio arguing he had been unable to close in fast enough for an attack. Then the elf had been able to break out past his men. He could have sworn there was no way the elf could have got past four of his best men without a scratch but it had happened.

  ‘Willibald’s dying, sarge,’ his corporal, Ricbert, reported from the side of the trail.

  The other three men were already dead but it was the arrows that interested Broyle.

  ‘It’s the same thing we saw back in the woods, with Cenred,’ Ricbert grunted.

  Broyle nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. There was a bigger mystery here. The elf and his companions had help. But Broyle had seen him also exchange sword blows with one — and threaten them with one of those strange crossbows. So were they his allies or not? Broyle only knew they had killed his men, so that made them his enemies.

  ‘We need to get out of here and get after them,’ Broyle snapped.

  ‘What are we doing, sarge? There’re only seven of us now.’

  ‘I can count,’ Broyle said coldly. This was the third time he had been defeated. It would be the last, he swore.

  ‘How could he have got away?’ Hanto spat.

  Taigo said nothing, because that was safest.

  ‘Do we finish off those humans back there?’ Jin asked.

  Hanto hit him across the head. ‘No, idiot. We don’t have time
to waste on them. We follow Sendatsu. Next time, we shall put arrows into his legs — see if he can run then.’

  He signalled and the three elves began to lope after the horses, the fact they were running through woodland, not on the trail, making no difference to their speed.

  Sendatsu finally slowed them down when they emerged from the woods, a good five miles away. Out in the open he felt safe enough to halt the horses before they became too tired — or one of the humans fell off.

  ‘What happened back there?’ Huw gasped. He had managed to stay on the horse but it had been a near thing once or twice.

  Sendatsu had no idea where to start. He was struggling to come to terms with it himself. Hanto was out here, and obviously hunting him. It was a terrifying thought. The Council — and his father — were so desperate to silence him they had sent elves into the human world to kill him. More than that, they would have needed a Magic-weaver to help get them through the barrier. Had Sumiko turned against him, or was there a traitor in their midst? Knowing his father, that was the more likely of the two but it was still very discomforting.

  ‘They were waiting for us. Down the trail was the only way out of the trap,’ Sendatsu said shakily.

  ‘Huw, you need to thank Sendatsu. He rode after you and picked off those three Forlishmen with arrows from the saddle before killing the last with his sword. I can barely believe I saw it!’ Rhiannon exclaimed.

  Sendatsu closed his mouth. She must have been facing the wrong way, or imagined seeing him draw his bow … thank Aroaril he did not have to explain what had happened with the three elven archers in the undergrowth — for he had no idea what he would have said.

  Huw turned to the elf. ‘I know. You did not need to risk your life for me. After our arguments, I do not know I could have done the same, were our positions reversed.’

  ‘Thank Aroaril for that — I don’t think I’d like to see you fight four Forlish warriors.’ Sendatsu tried to smile.

  ‘Seriously — why? You are always going on about this mission of yours, how you have to get back to Dokuzen …’

  Sendatsu shrugged. ‘I could not live with myself if I let you ride to your death.’

  ‘Then I thank you. Those Forlish would have killed us without a second thought or worse, taken us back to Ward,’ Huw said fervently.

  ‘That is worse than death?’ Sendatsu really smiled at that.

  ‘Ward would make us beg for death — and he would make sure he wrung every drop of information out of us, so he could smash my people and destroy Vales,’ Huw said soberly.

  ‘What he has planned for me is little better,’ Rhiannon said with a shudder. ‘You saved us, Sendatsu! They were all around — I saw you fighting them off when you went to get Huw’s crossbow.’

  Sendatsu reached for the crossbow, using it to hide his relief. He had been unbelievably lucky. Hanto must have warned them about the trap, then turned his bows on the Forlish when it seemed as if Sendatsu was to be killed … that meant his father wanted him back alive. He wondered if he should lie in wait for them. He could kill Hanto easily enough and then get information out of his companions …

  ‘What is it?’ Rhiannon asked.

  Sendatsu handed the crossbow back to Huw. ‘Nothing.’ He smiled. ‘Just reliving that ambush.’ He could kill Hanto but the other two would have their orders to stop him. If one of them put an arrow into him — it was too risky, he decided.

  They rode on together, much more warmly this time. Once a good three miles from the woods, with no sight of any pursuit, Sendatsu found them a spot on a small hill, which gave them a good view of the way they had come, and stopped for a break.

  Huw made a point of shaking Sendatsu’s hand.

  ‘I have sung enough sagas about heroes to know one when I see him in action,’ he said.

  ‘I am no hero — I don’t want to be.’ Sendatsu shrugged. ‘I’m just doing what I have to.’

  ‘Well, it was enough to save me!’

  The bard wandered off to grab some firewood, leaving Sendatsu to hope he might get the bard’s help in speaking to the Velsh at the next village, and beyond. When he had not really done anything to earn the bard’s gratitude, this was fortunate indeed.

  Sendatsu joined Rhiannon, who was brushing down the sweating horses. As soon as they were hidden by the horses, she embraced him.

  ‘Thank you for saving us, and risking your life. I shall not forget it.’ She reached up and kissed him.

  Sendatsu stood there awkwardly. He did not want to do more harm, or leave her with even more of a broken heart, but she was warm and lithe against him and other parts of him were saying something different …

  ‘I think Huw’s returning,’ he forced himself to say, then returned her kiss before they broke apart.

  No sense in telling her the truth too early, he decided. He might need to use her against Huw, if the bard still insisted on keeping him away from the Velsh. The way her trews sat tight around her legs had nothing at all to do with it …

  The narrowness of their escape left him both a little shaky and feeling elated — it had affected them all the same way. He found himself needing to laugh as they ate and drank.

  ‘What’s the next village?’ Sendatsu asked.

  ‘Catsfield,’ Huw replied, breaking apart an oatcake.

  ‘Sounds like a good name,’ Sendatsu commented. ‘Do they farm them, or eat them?’

  The two humans looked at him.

  ‘Are you serious?’ Rhiannon gasped.

  ‘Sure.’ Sendatsu winked at Huw, unseen by her. ‘Cat is a great elven delicacy. You can expect to be served fresh cat in Dokuzen every day. Isn’t that right, Huw?’

  ‘Well, it is mentioned in the sagas, many times,’ Huw agreed, fighting to keep a straight face.

  Rhiannon stared at them with such a look of horror that they could not keep up the pretence any longer and Sendatsu rolled around in hilarity, while Huw burst out in laughter as well.

  Rhiannon glared at them for a few moments, then dissolved into giggles herself.

  The reaction to their escape bubbled out and they all found themselves helpless with laughter. It was a long time before they could get themselves under control again.

  ‘I didn’t think you elves liked jokes,’ Rhiannon accused.

  ‘No, only cats!’ Huw gasped and that set them all off again.

  Sendatsu lay on the grass, his chest heaving, and wiped his eyes. He laughed a great deal with his children but there had been few smiles with other adults since he was forbidden to marry Asami.

  ‘We like to laugh as much as you,’ he said finally. ‘But perhaps nobody made a song out of that.’

  ‘Then we shall have to be the first,’ Rhiannon decided.

  ‘A song about eating cats and laughing. That should earn us coin aplenty.’ Huw grinned, rolling over and sitting up.

  ‘No more about the cats! Please?’ Rhiannon pleaded.

  ‘Well, we had better get to Catsfield before we are unable to say the name without laughing,’ Huw agreed, ‘especially as the Forlish may not be far away.’

  Hector looked across the valley to where the edge of the civilised world stopped, and Vales began.

  ‘Are you sure of this, sir?’ his guard sergeant asked nervously. ‘The king was sending men up here to fix these damned Velsh and I wouldn’t like to run into a group of them. Then there’s our accents. If our boys have been going through here like they’ve been ordered, it’s likely the Velsh won’t want to talk to a bunch of Forlish …’

  ‘Sergeant …’ Hector paused and the soldiers willed him to finally remember the name. ‘Edric!’ Hector announced and the soldiers silently sighed with relief. ‘We have been ordered by the king to bring back my daughter. I hold the king’s seal! Would you like to return to Cridianton and tell him his orders were too difficult for you? Do you think he will be happy to hear that?’

  Edric gulped. He had been in the king’s service for nearly a decade and knew mercy was not one of the king
’s many qualities.

  ‘Besides,’ and here Hector softened his voice a little. ‘I have a plan.’

  After all, he needed these men to go along with him. If he was to return to Cridianton empty-handed, then all his dreams would go up in smoke. How could the girl have been so stupid? He had been sure she was his puppet, willing to do whatever he told her to. And not just willing but happy to! That had been the real triumph. Any fool could get a child to do what they were told — it took real artistry to get the child thinking it was actually the best thing for them. When his wife had died in childbirth, after he had lost his voice from the same fever that had left her weakened and unable to make it through the rigours of birth, he had thought his golden run was at an end. First he had lost his place at court, then his talents, then his wife; now he was being left with a child to care for — a girl child as well, one that would only be a burden.

  But it had been his genius to see the opportunity in despair. The girl was tall and well formed — between his gifts and his wife’s beauty, surely she would have ability he could mould, talents he could use to restore his fortune.

  And so he had begun his careful scheme, refining it over the years. Sadly the girl had not proved quite as fair of face as her mother, not the beauty to instantly grab the king’s attention. But she was tall, and graceful, with long limbs and a natural ability to move well — and really, he reflected, that was more important than a pretty face in the bedchamber, once the lights were out.

  His dreams, his golden future, had been in his grasp. A few days’ work and everything would have been sealed. Only for it to be dashed away by his daughter’s stupidity and a foul Velshman. They were an odious people and fully deserving of what was coming their way, he decided.

  The trip north had been both quick and relatively comfortable. Wherever they went, whatever they wanted, the king’s seal had been able to supply. One look at that, backed up by the hulking presence of the king’s guards, and shopkeepers and innkeepers alike swiftly offered up horses and food for free. Hector had thoroughly enjoyed the feeling, although he would have much preferred to be back in Cridianton, enjoying the fruits of his long years of hard work. Did she not understand how much it had taken to look after her, to work with her? All those ridiculous tears, those petty fears … he had virtually turned himself into her slave for the past twenty years. Did he not deserve something from that? Who else would have been willing to spend that much time working with a young girl? And afterwards, when Ward had finished with her, he would have found her a husband somewhere, ensured she had sufficient money to live on.