by Duncan Lay
‘But we failed. I have led my people to disaster —’
‘We are not defeated yet!’ Rhiannon blazed.
Huw groaned. ‘We were so close! We had paid a high price for Dokuzen’s good will but they were going to give us everything we wanted. Once they got to know us, we could have shown them the evidence, persuaded them that they were Elfarans, not elves — humans just like us.’
‘Still the romantic.’ Rhiannon sniffed. ‘They would never accept that. It was a matter of time before it all broke down.’
‘What do I tell the Velsh?’
‘We tell them the truth. That the Forlish are defeated and the threat of destruction is gone. We thought the Forlish army was going to burn and slaughter its way into Powys. It’s now running for home. Then we tell them the Elfarans showed their true colours and we need to go about finding people with magic, as soon as we can. We have time. The Elfarans will punish the Forlish first before turning on us — and then they will run into the same problems everyone else faces trying to invade Vales in winter. We have many moons of freedom to find those with magic and train them. When the Elfarans come for us, we shall show them they were right to fear us.’
‘You make it sound so easy,’ Huw said with the ghost of a smile.
‘It’s not easy. But we have no choice. Who is going to be strong enough to defy the Elfarans? Griff? He will be bowing down before Jaken has the chance to say one word. Kelyn, Dafyd and Llewellyn aren’t going to do it. You are the only choice.’
‘Maybe it should be you.’
‘You’re right. Except I am Forlish — and I’m going to be devoting all my time to training Magic-weavers and working out a way to defeat Sumiko.’
Huw reached out and she took his hand. It was comforting to have that contact but he felt so tired. Maybe somebody else would be a better choice to lead Vales.
39
Now we are going outside the barrier once more, to right the evil that was done to the humans by the bad elves. We don’t know how it will end but we will not give up on our friends.
Sendatsu’s song
King Ward slumped in his chair, watching over the battlements to the north. The pain had grown within him over the last moon, to the point where even the herbs from those Landish doctors did not dull its lash. He could feel the final prize within his grasp, yet death was threatening to cheat him of it. Each night he was afraid to go to sleep, in case he did not wake. He had forbidden the doctors to give him any herbs for the nights, preferring the pain to keep him awake rather than slipping silently away in his sleep. Each morning he thanked the stars above he had a little more time. That was all he needed — a little more time.
In his desperation he had sent for his sons Wilfrid and Uffa. Much as they hated it, he had forced them to sit with him while he spoke of Forland, of ruling the country and his dreams of the race of men united.
‘A king has no friends, only followers and enemies. And you will never know when one will become the other,’ he explained. ‘You have to read the hearts of men. You have to learn what they want and give it to them. And you need to inspire fear. Love will never let you rule for long. Love is too close to hate and can jump from one to the other too swiftly for you to follow. Fear lasts. You have to make them realise that the penalty for failure is far worse than the reward for success.’
He spoke passionately, staring into his sons’ eyes but he could see his words were going in one ear and passing out the other. He did not know their hearts or, rather, he knew them too well. They were simple, wanting little more than blood and violence.
‘We have sacrificed much to gain knowledge. This must be spread to the other countries. The Landish knowledge of healing should go to Balia, Breconia, Nevland — everywhere.’
‘But shouldn’t we keep it for ourselves? We took it!’ Wilfrid asked. ‘The Balians are our slaves …’
‘The knowledge is for all men, not just us. We are more than that,’ Ward said, but his heart was not in it.
He had spoken some more, told them how to hold on to the empire he had fashioned — but he had eventually trailed into silence and they had taken their leave. The gap between them was too wide. He had succeeded as a king but failed as a father. With death looming, that was his biggest regret.
So now he was reduced to staring out across his city, to the north, hoping to see evidence of elven magic coming back to Cridianton. Riders had told him about the success of Wulf’s diversion and how Edmund had smashed a hole in the elven barrier and marched thousands of men inside. It was a huge risk but he could not imagine them failing. It was all he had to cling to.
‘Sire! Riders from the north!’ one of his guards shouted, jerking him out of his dark thoughts.
He peered into the distance, cursing the age that had twisted his bladder and dimmed his sight.
‘Sire, I think it’s Captain Edmund!’ the guard said excitedly. ‘He’s riding with just a pair of scouts!’
‘Get me to the throne room — and bring him straight to me,’ Ward said, his heart leaping.
But less than a turn of the hourglass later, his excitement turned to ashes. Word of Edmund’s return had spread like wildfire through the court and the throne room was packed with people. Even Queen Mildrith and his sons were there, watching from the side nervously. Edmund entered the throne room, his clothes stained with travel, stinking of dirt, sweat and horses, and flung himself down.
That was unusual enough but Ward restrained himself.
‘Welcome back, captain — what news?’ he asked.
‘The worst kind, sire. We made it to the outskirts of Dokuzen but were held back by magic — and then the elven army returned. We were forced to retreat and the army is straggling back south now, leaving some two thousand of our finest soldiers lying dead in Dokuzen.’
The news burst through the court like a thunderclap but Ward merely raised his hand and it dropped to a whisper, as neighbours muttered to each other but dared not raise their voices.
‘Leave us,’ Ward said, his voice not loud but there was compressed fury in every word.
The courtiers scattered, guards holding open doors so they were able to escape without being crushed. The court emptied rapidly, leaving only a scatter of guards — and Mildrith, Uffa and Wilfrid — standing in the gallery. Ward glanced at them, seeing the gloating smile on Mildrith’s face and, even worse, on his sons’ faces.
‘When I say to leave, I expect to be obeyed.’
‘These are your sons and heirs. Surely they deserve to hear what happens to the country now —’ Mildrith began.
‘Go!’ Ward roared and they fled also, guards bowing to them as they left.
Ward looked around the court, checking nobody was left, then stood with a little difficulty, shrugged off a guard’s helping hand and walked down to where Edmund kneeled on the floor.
‘Get up, Edmund,’ he said irritably.
Edmund rose and Ward looked at him critically, seeing him sway with exhaustion.
‘Bring food and water for Captain Edmund. And chairs for us both. Now,’ he ordered.
‘Just bring me a sword, sire, and when I have finished telling you what happened in Dokuzen, I shall fall on it,’ Edmund told him.
‘Don’t be a fool, Edmund. I don’t want you dead,’ Ward snapped. ‘Fall on your sword and I shall make sure you die slowly and horribly. I still need you.’
‘Sire?’
Guards were rushing over with chairs, while another had a plate of food and a jug of water.
‘Sit. Eat and drink.’
Edmund wolfed down the food, while Ward watched him critically. The one benefit the pain gave him was a clearer mind; the herbs eased the body but dulled his thoughts. Wilfrid and Uffa were not fit to rule Forland. His sons were no good. Anyone who could rejoice at the news Forland had been turned back and thousands of its sons were lying dead in the elven forest did not deserve to rule Cridianton.
Of course, that was the easy part. He could make any decrees
he liked but Mildrith would sooner die than see someone other than one of her boys on the throne. Once he was gone, his chosen successor’s life would be measured in hourglasses rather than moons. This situation was his fault. He had allowed the boys to turn out like this, so it was up to him to protect Forland and his life’s work.
‘Tell me what happened in Dokuzen,’ he said.
Edmund’s pace of eating had slowed now most of a loaf and chunks of cheese and onions had disappeared. He drank deeply, belched loudly, then began.
Ward listened critically as Edmund told of the arrows out of the trees, the Velsh fighting alongside the elves, the storm of arrows that fell from above, the way the elves fought — and the magic they used.
‘We thought we had beaten them, we had driven them back from their defences and one more attack would have seen us in Dokuzen itself. Then new armoured figures appeared on the ridge where they stood, while in the trees to the left and right of us we could hear a great host marching. If I had pressed home, we would have been surrounded and cut to pieces.’
‘And how did you escape?’
‘We retreated the way we had come. They harassed us every step of the way until we were out of the trees, then they let us go.’
‘They let you go?’
‘I believe so, sire. I left my officers to bring the men south while I rushed here to give you the bad news and take responsibility.’
Ward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘And you are sure they did not chase you once you were out of the trees?’
‘Certain, sire. We were moving fast — faster even than when we marched in there. Obviously they sent a mounted force to shadow us on our retreat, archers to keep us moving, prevent us from turning and reforming —’
‘Yet I would have expected them to pursue with everything they had. They chased Wulf’s men hard, gave them no respite as they tried to punish them for daring to invade. You were the greater threat and they let you go,’ Ward mused.
‘They must have force-marched at a frightening pace to get back from where Wulf had taken them. I thought they were probably exhausted —’
‘Or they were not there at all and they used magic to make you think their army had returned,’ Ward pointed out.
‘But why wait until then to try that? Why not use that on us immediately?’
‘Because the pivotal point of the battle had arrived. They had no other choice. If they had done that at the start, it would not have worked, for you would not have retreated without even testing the elven warriors out.’
‘True, sire. I would have at least tried to punch through them.’
‘It is still possible they did have their army return in time and were too tired to pursue. But I think it more likely they used magic.’
Edmund looked down at his plate. ‘I am sorry, sire. I have failed you. If only I had pressed on …’
Ward slammed his fist on the table. ‘We do not have time to complain and cry. Forland is about to face its greatest test and we have to be ready.’
‘What do you mean, sire?’
‘The elves let you get away this time but our challenge cannot go unpunished. They will march on us, with their army and their magic. They will want to make sure no human ever dares threaten them again. If we are not ready to be as ruthless and inventive as they were, then the towers of Cridianton will fall and everything I have worked for these last twenty years will be consigned to dust. Sit up.’
Edmund sat straighter, his back naturally stiffening.
‘That’s better. My sons and wife. Do you think they can outwit the elves and defend Cridianton against ten thousand warriors using sword and magic?’
‘Well …’
‘Relax, my friend. That was not a question requiring an answer. You have faced the elves, seen their magic. You will know how to deal with it now.’
‘It is hard to defend against,’ Edmund warned.
‘Good. See, you are thinking. I cannot guarantee that I will be alive when the elves come south. This cursed body is letting me down and could fail at any time. I need you to be Forland’s shield.’
‘Sire, I shall give my advice and fight to the best of my ability as always.’
‘You mistake me. I shall make you the next King of Forland.’ Edmund stared at Ward, his mouth sagging open slightly.
‘Close your mouth and stop looking like one of my sons,’ Ward said.
‘Sire, I am not noble born! Your sons are the rightful heirs, while there are dozens of nobles with better claim than mine!’
‘No,’ Ward said simply. ‘You are the best man. I will not let everything I built be destroyed through stupidity and greed. You are the one who discovered the way into Dokuzen — you will be the one who can find a way to hold them off.’
‘And what will your sons say?’
‘We shall not tell them, until it is too late for them to do anything about it. The army will be with you and that is all you need to hold the throne.’
‘Sire, I need far more than that.’
‘True. You need my advice. Bring more food and wine,’ Ward ordered the guards. ‘We can eat and drink while I tell you what you must do.’
Sendatsu looked back over his shoulder at Dokuzen. This time there would be no instant step through an oaken gateway; they would have to ride into Vales. He had Mai and Cheijun on the horse with him, while two other horses followed, all weighed down with food, clothes — and toys. Soon the city would be out of sight but his thoughts were still back there.
They had packed swiftly with help from Noriko and he had asked if she wanted to join them in Vales.
‘You don’t have to do this. Go and see your father,’ Noriko told him softly, folding up robes neatly and placing them into a thick leather pack, slipping in a book with a blue cover as well.
He sighed. ‘No, Mother, it is better this way. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’
‘My place is here.’ Noriko tied up the top of the pack. ‘And I am done now.’
Sendatsu handed his mother a small scroll. ‘When I leave, I would ask that you look after my villa. I don’t know if I shall be back, so I have left it in your name.’
‘Why? I shall be living with your father, as always.’
Sendatsu hesitated. ‘Just in case,’ he said carefully. On the way back from Asami’s, he had been thinking about his father’s plan to dissolve arranged marriages. What if his father was secretly planning to use it for his own ends? He had other lovers — perhaps he wanted to set Noriko aside.
‘There is no need,’ his mother insisted.
‘Please. Just keep it safe then.’ Sendatsu pressed the scroll into her hands.
She relented. ‘I shall take it for you to keep it safe, no more.’
He nodded. ‘I had better go, before Father decides to make me stay.’
‘Son, wait.’ Noriko reached out and enfolded him in her arms. ‘Don’t blame Asami,’ she whispered in his ear.
Sendatsu stiffened. ‘What?’
‘I know her. She would not easily give you up. There must be more to it than she is saying.’
‘You don’t know what you are talking about! She has chosen Gaibun over me and that is the end of it!’
‘You are wrong. I know too well what I am talking about,’ Noriko told him sadly.
Sendatsu had wanted to ask her more but then Mai and Cheijun had raced into the room and he had dared not, in case Mai heard too much. Besides, what could possibly explain Asami’s actions? She had chosen Gaibun over him and it was his own fault. End of story.
‘We are doing the right thing,’ Mai said, interrupting his thoughts.
‘What?’ Sendatsu asked.
‘Our friends need us. We had done all we could at home. Grandmother and Asami need to make their own choices. They have to realise they are being silly and they can be happy too.’
Sendatsu forced a laugh. ‘Where do you hear all these things?’
Mai shrugged. ‘Nobody notices me. And my ears work well.’
‘Do my ears work?’ Cheijun asked.
‘Yes, they do.’ Sendatsu rubbed him on the head.
‘We love you, Papa,’ Mai said softly.
Sendatsu leaned down and kissed the top of her head, but he felt as though he had left his heart behind in Dokuzen. Perhaps that was a good thing. His head was in control and he had the same sort of determination flowing through him that he had felt when he had first been sent into Vales. Nothing was going to stop him. It was time to fight for what he believed in, time to help make a better world for his children. He had enough of lies, of always doing the careful thing. Now he would do the right thing.
The people turned out to cheer the dragons’ return to Patcham.
But the cheers slowly died as they saw the faces of the dragons. There was no singing or laughing in the ranks, and their numbers were reduced.
Huw had been hoping for a chance to relax and think about his next move but he saw, with a sinking heart, that almost all the village headmen were waiting for them. More had obviously arrived while he had been away.
‘So when will the elves be arriving, laden down with our rewards and bringing magic?’ Griff called.
Huw felt his shoulders slump. ‘We shall discuss this in the meeting hall,’ he announced. He turned to Cadel and Bowen. ‘Do what you can for the wounded and then join me in the hall. You might be taking orders from a new chief.’
‘We take no orders from anyone but you,’ Cadel said firmly.
‘Well, maybe Rhiannon and Sendatsu or Gaibun.’ Bowen shrugged.
‘You will take orders from the leader of Vales. You are Velsh dragons and not my private army,’ Huw snapped.
They nodded and turned away to fulfil his instructions.
‘They won’t replace you,’ Rhiannon told him.
‘I don’t deserve to be their leader. I have to face that. I made a serious mistake in helping the Elfarans.’
‘You did the only thing you could,’ Rhiannon insisted. ‘Do not give up now — the Velsh need you more than ever.’
Huw smiled wanly. ‘That’s up to them, is it not?’
