Bridge of Swords

by Duncan Lay

Nightfall told Broyle he had failed again. So close and all he had achieved was losing two more men. Still, he had replaced them with three others, plus picked up a fool and a king’s seal, as well as captured three elves, so it was not a total loss.

  ‘Get a fire going. We’ll heat up a few swords and then put some real questions to those elves,’ Broyle ordered.

  ‘Food as well? I’m — I mean the men are starving,’ Ricbert said.

  ‘Questions first, food afterwards,’ Broyle said coldly.

  He pushed back through the undergrowth, stretching muscles made sore from crouching in the bushes all day.

  ‘Sarge! They’re gone!’

  He raced over to where Ricbert stood, shocked. Instead of three elves tied to a tree, the ropes were empty, the two guards he had placed there both dead, their throats slit.

  ‘Get the men together — we’re going after those bastards,’ Broyle swore.

  ‘And the food …?’

  ‘Move!’

  Brynmawr spent the next couple of days working on an earthen barrier around the village, its front strengthened by rocks, the back face with a step cut into it so that men — and women — could stand there and loose crossbows down on any attackers while leaving one way into the village, an opening that could be blocked by a pair of old carts, outer sides covered with sharp wooden spikes. Meanwhile, the carpenters in the village worked on the crossbows.

  Sendatsu wandered around the village, trying to see if anyone knew magic, or remembered anything useful from ancient times.

  He stopped to watch the children play — some sort of game where they used short wooden poles with a scoop on the end to throw a rough leather ball from one to another and then between two tall sticks stuck into the ground.

  It brought a smile to his face for the first time in a moon and he wandered on, watching others play a game where you had to form your hand into a shape of a knife, stone or cloth to defeat your opponent’s choice.

  ‘Anyone have the knowledge you seek?’ Aled asked him as he sat watching the children play.

  ‘No,’ Sendatsu grunted. It was one more disappointment lost in a sea of them.

  ‘I am sorry. But perhaps you can help us with the knowledge you hold?’

  ‘I suppose I can,’ Sendatsu agreed.

  Aled disappeared, returning with a group of villagers, which Sendatsu found slightly alarming.

  ‘How do you live so long?’ Aled asked eagerly.

  So Sendatsu talked about food, different plants to look for, which could be cultivated and grown, from wild onions to nettles.

  ‘A diet heavy in bread, meat and milk might fill a man’s belly but it is not good for you. You need to eat more greenery, as much fruit as you can,’ he suggested.

  ‘You would have us grub at the grass like so many sheep?’ Aled sniffed.

  ‘I wouldn’t eat grass. But we eat mainly vegetables and fish in Dokuzen. It is one of the reasons we live so much longer than you Velsh.’ Sendatsu shrugged. ‘If you planted blackberry seeds, as well as pear seeds, you should be able to create orchards. And the turnips and swedes you feed to your pigs — you would do better to eat them yourselves, and less bacon instead …’

  ‘If you ask me, the elves don’t live that long. It just seems that way, being forced to chew on bark and leaves and pig food, instead of good red meat,’ Aled said disgustedly.

  Sendatsu sighed. ‘I can only tell you the information. It is up to you if you want to use it.’

  ‘No, no, keep going,’ Aled insisted.

  Sendatsu shrugged and tried suggesting they wash more often, as well as cleaning out their homes, not sharing them with goats and sheep, right down to not using the same knife to cut up raw and cooked meat. The doubtful faces told him he needed to try a different approach.

  ‘What is the one thing that kills villagers more than anything?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably childbirth,’ Aled said after a moment’s thought, a response that had the others nodding. ‘Women die, babies die — they both die. How do you elves deal with that?’

  Sendatsu sighed again. ‘We have priests of Aroaril who can save mothers and babies,’ he said sadly.

  ‘That’s not going to help us then, is it?’

  Sendatsu shook his head. ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘Still, we can try some of the other things. Imagine if they all work and we can all live as long and as well as elves!’

  They drifted away, leaving him to think about what his people had done to the humans and, for the first time, feel deeply ashamed he was an elf. He was even more disturbed by what Aled had said. If the humans did have the knowledge of the elves, they would live as long and as well. He had learned so much about them in the past few moons, how there was really little difference between them. Except, of course, for magic. And that was slipping away from the elves. The words of the first Sendatsu on that fateful scroll came back to him. What if elves and humans were closer than everyone said? Could elves just be humans who had learned to use magic? Was the truth he sought hidden by even bigger lies than he imagined?

  Huw felt the usual satisfaction of helping another village — and finally the thought he had about how the Velsh could save themselves had taken shape in his mind, much like the way the wall was growing around the village.

  ‘Aled, do you have much to do with the nearby villages?’ he asked.

  The village headman sniffed. ‘If we have a good crop of something, we’ll often trade it with them,’ he finally admitted. ‘Now and again a young lass or lad from one or the other will meet and marry — but it doesn’t happen too often. Every year a few of the boys leave to find farms of their own, the ones who have got too many brothers to make a living and keep a family on the land we have. Other than that we keep to ourselves, and that’s the best way of it.’

  ‘But what if you could all work together? What if we were to stop being a collection of villages and turn ourselves into a proper country — so you could call yourself a Velshman first and a Brynmawr second, not the other way around?’

  Aled just stared at the young bard. ‘Do you mean bend the knee to that Forlish bastard Ward? Because I wish you had told us before you had us all digging from dawn to dusk …’

  ‘No! Ruled by ourselves. No kings, no princes, just a collection of village headmen, like yourself, all getting together to meet and talk about their problems, agreeing to help each other. So if a village is rich in iron, or tin, or coal, they can help out those who have nothing — or have had poor harvests. A few men from each village would also join together, to help keep the peace and protect Vales.’

  ‘An army, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that. But they would never go outside of Vales — they would just stay here …’

  Aled sighed. ‘Huw, I am a simple man. I am also too old to want to be inspired by the fiery words of a young fellow like you. Ask what you want and I shall put it to my village.’

  Huw smiled. ‘I want to take a few of your young men. No more than five or six, the younger sons of farmers, who would go elsewhere anyway, searching for their fortune, as you said.’

  ‘The start of this army of yours?’

  ‘That’s right. And watch for their return, for they shall bring both tidings and warnings and a way to train the rest of the men,’ Huw said, feeling the excitement rising in him.

  Aled shrugged. ‘I shall send a group to you and you can talk to them. I will not order a youngster to do this but no doubt they will be happy to do something crazy. For me, eating some of the elven recipes is adventure enough!’

  Sendatsu and Rhiannon were alternately horrified and excited by Huw’s plan.

  ‘You could have spoken with me! Are we to drag a motley band across the countryside? How are we to arm them, feed them, allow them to travel? And do you know how many we shall need to face the Forlish? Thousands of them!’ Sendatsu argued.

  ‘It is a brilliant plan,’ Rhiannon enthused. ‘We can visit Harlech again, even Patcham, get the Forlish swords
and horses we have taken. Imagine if we took five or ten men from each village — soon we would have a large force!’

  ‘That’s right. And Sendatsu can train them every day. After a moon of that, they will be ready to come back to their villages and train others …’

  ‘Wait a moment! Are we talking about one or two extra moons? This is pointless, you will need hundreds, if not thousands of swords and axes and spears, as well as shields and armour …’

  ‘We have to do something,’ Huw stopped Sendatsu in mid-flow. ‘This is the best way forwards. We shall bring together men from all different villages, get them thinking like Velshmen. And imagine if we had a thousand men, all trained to fight in the elven way. With the crossbows as well, it might be enough to hold back the Forlish …’

  ‘Huw, you are talking about leading those men to their deaths! You need more time, more everything! I will not be around to see this through …’

  ‘We have no other choice. And to do this is better than doing nothing,’ Huw insisted. ‘Besides, this is the best way to help you. If we create a whole country, then it will be simple to find out what all know about the elves. And you can go back to Dokuzen without us, knowing you will not leave Velsh children to be slaughtered by the Forlish.’

  Sendatsu shook his head. ‘You are too tricky by far,’ he growled.

  ‘If you want answers, this is the fastest way. Remember, once I have united Vales, I can make people help you. And the men you train can carry on your work when you are back in Dokuzen.’

  Sendatsu groaned. But then he remembered the children of Rheged — and Mai and Cheijun, trusting him to return to them. Perhaps this was a way to serve them both.

  ‘All right. But one moon only. No more.’

  ‘No more,’ Huw agreed.

  ‘And I cannot lie to them,’ he said hoarsely. ‘If they go to their deaths, they must know what they are facing.’

  ‘I know.’ Huw patted his shoulder. ‘But it is also true that confidence means much to an army. It is why the Forlish are so strong. They know they cannot be defeated. But we shall throw some doubt into them up here — and we shall inspire the Velsh. If they think they are as good as elves, they will try to be. But I shall not ask you to tell them a lie. Just teach them to fight and that will be enough.’

  Sendatsu sighed. ‘I will do what I can,’ he said finally.

  ‘We need a banner. A rallying point, to say we are Velsh, not tied to any village. Anything elven that springs to mind?’

  ‘A dragon,’ Rhiannon said instantly. They had been in her dreams every night now.

  ‘A dragon?’ Huw pondered.

  ‘A red one,’ Rhiannon added.

  ‘It says magic without saying elf,’ Sendatsu offered.

  ‘I like it! Imagine it — the symbol of Vales, a red dragon! I think it will catch on.’ Huw grinned. ‘Now, if I could just give them their own language as well, bring them all together …’

  ‘You are playing a dangerous game,’ Sendatsu warned gently.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rhiannon was even quicker than Huw.

  ‘You are setting yourself up to be the first king of Vales,’ Sendatsu pointed out. ‘You are visiting every village, getting every headman to acknowledge you; now you are forming an army and will give them a banner and a symbol to march underneath.’

  Huw paused for a moment. ‘I had not thought of that,’ he admitted. ‘And it is not something I would take on. I would have no man or woman bow the knee in Vales, to anyone. They can all have a say, always. I shall never take a crown nor seek to rule others.’

  Sendatsu chuckled. ‘You kept saying I was the hero the Velsh needed. But maybe it is you!’

  ‘Please — no more of that,’ Huw pleaded.

  Rhiannon watched Huw and wondered how she had not seen the strength in him earlier. True, he had not acted like this when they first met. But he seemed to have grown up, to have taken on an authority his age did not deserve. He was a man who knew what he had to do and was determined to achieve it, no matter the cost. She had always liked his gentleness, his kindness, but now that was allied with a little of the steel that had been in Sendatsu.

  ‘I shall say no more. But, as you said — actions speak louder than words,’ Sendatsu said.

  ‘The people will see the truth,’ Rhiannon said, inspired both by her anger at Sendatsu and her admiration for Huw.

  23

  Whenever I left my villa — and that was not often, admittedly — I was accompanied by a swarm of guards. At first I appreciated this gesture, thinking it was to ensure my safety. But it meant none could get near me to speak, and I only heard the reports Naibun wanted me to hear.

  I did not hear of it then but the young warrior who had bravely talked his way into my garden was found dead, apparently the victim of humans.

  As yet this did not worry me, although after seeing the way the guards dealt with another young warrior who wanted to speak to me, I did ask Naibun to reduce the guards around me. As ever, he was happy to agree with whatever I said.

  As Aled predicted, and Huw hoped, there was no shortage of young men wanting to come along with the elf and learn how to be soldiers, to fight for their country. Third or even fourth sons of families, they would normally have headed north, to Powys, the area of Vales with almost all of the mines, which always needed men. The land around Brynmawr was rich and fertile, but there were only so many families it could support. If they were lucky, they might meet and marry a woman from another village who would inherit some land. But, more likely, they would have to strike out on their own, become crofters, grub a living from some rough land. That or go north and earn enough to come back and buy themselves some land to work. Often such men ended up on the outskirts of Vales, in Rheged, where life was hard and the land sour.

  More than a dozen wanted to join Huw but he would only take ten, the older and stronger ones. All were sixteen or seventeen, all already thinking of leaving the village for something better.

  ‘Why do the boys leave? Why are there more men than women in your villages?’ Sendatsu wanted to know.

  ‘The problem is women dying from childbirth,’ Rhiannon said sharply. ‘It is the same in Forland. Giving birth can be as dangerous as battle. Women die, babies die, both die. There are men and women who live to old age together but maybe as many as one in six women don’t make it through the childbirth years, while many children die before their first birthday.’

  Sendatsu winced. Aled had spoken about that and he should have made the connection. ‘I know. My wife, Kayiko, died giving birth to my son, Cheijun. But that was rare. We have women trained in childbirth, herbs — even priests of Aroaril …’

  ‘We have women who know what to do. But if the baby has turned, there is nothing anyone can do. And the men do nothing to help either. Beyond trying to fill their wives’ bellies, that is,’ she snapped, glaring at him.

  ‘This is another reason why we need to restore the worship of Aroaril to these lands,’ Sendatsu said hastily. ‘Meanwhile, I’d better go and see our new recruits.’

  ‘You do that,’ Rhiannon told him. ‘And next time you think of bedding a woman, imagine her screaming in agony as the child you gave her rips her in two.’

  Sendatsu fled, Huw just a pace behind.

  At long last it was the night of the Festival of Summer, to mark the season passing. Asami had been chafing at the way the days seemed to drag. She was nervous about trying to break into the tombs of the forefathers but the festival was also the last day of the full moon. For the past few days she had opened a gateway through the trees for Sendatsu to return — but there was still no sign of him. She was sick with the thought he might have been killed. And if he was safe, why had he not returned? Was the knowledge they sought not there? Did the humans not know about magic and Aroaril? There was so much to worry about and nobody to confide in. It made her crazy decision to rob the tombs seem more sensible. If Sendatsu could not find what they needed, then she would have to.

 
; At the back of her room was a long rack of robes. Flowing and graceful, the everyday robe was made from cotton; the ceremonial from silk. But nestled in there were other outfits; the hakama and half-kimono that all elves wore while training to fight.

  Hers was in dark green, which helped her fade into the shadows. She bound up her hair and pulled on a black cotton hood that covered her head and most of her face. The rest of her face she blackened with a mixture of charcoal and body oil. Her sword went into a sheath across her back, while she slung a large, sturdy cotton bag across her shoulders. Into that went a tinder box and candle and then she was ready.

  She walked out — and into Gaibun, who was dressed exactly the same.

  ‘Ready for the tombs of our forefathers?’ Gaibun asked.

  ‘You don’t have to come along,’ she said firmly.

  Gaibun looked at her. ‘Please, Asami. Give me a chance to make things up to you. Let me help you.’

  ‘But this is going to be dangerous …’

  ‘Of course it is! Sumiko wants you to bring the books to her so she can overthrow the Council. Jaken wants me to bring the books to him so he can use their information to both break the Magic-weavers and overthrow Daichi. But if we work together, lie to them both, we can get ourselves in a position to bargain for Sendatsu.’

  ‘Go on,’ Asami said carefully.

  ‘We get the books out and offer to hand them back to whoever returns Sendatsu. Jaken wants to destroy the Magic-weavers. If we offer him evidence of their plotting, he’ll pay any price for it. And I think Sumiko will do anything to be able to overthrow the Council. Both sides think they can trust us, so we speak to them both, get the best deal we can and then we pick which side we want to go with,’ he said.

  ‘And you think we can trust them to honour a deal?’

  ‘No, but I think if we make them give us Sendatsu first, they have no choice.’

  ‘What is in it for you?’ she blurted.

  ‘I want to know the truth. And I want to return Sendatsu. It is the honourable thing and that is all that is important. My father taught me that. He raised me to live by his rules — even though that saw him lose the clan leadership to Jaken. And yet Jaken thinks to tempt me away from that, to bribe me. No doubt he thinks it amusing to corrupt the son of the elf he betrayed for political power. Well, if Jaken falls, then my father will lead clan Tadayoshi.’