Wall of Spears

by Duncan Lay

  Sendatsu bowed his head, partly in acknowledgement and partly to conceal his frustration. It felt wrong, but there was no evidence otherwise, merely a feeling.

  They left the horses behind and hurried across the field, using the darkness and the long grass to approach the tent. The tension grew as they got closer but there were few guards. They had to flatten themselves to the ground while a party rode past but not one even looked in their direction. Carefully they crept towards the tent, until they could clearly see the two guards out the front.

  ‘Take them!’ Retsu commanded.

  Instantly the grass grew up and around the pair, filling their mouths and holding them frozen in place.

  ‘Follow me. It all ends now,’ Retsu said, rising from the grass and striding towards the front of the tent.

  Everything hurt. Caelin had always prided himself on his fitness, how he could run all day and night when out scouting but this was unlike anything he had ever felt before. When the order had come to break camp and march south, spirits had still been high. After all, they had the elven prisoners and power over their enemies. If they were doing anything, it was to set a trap for their foes to fall into. But as the days went past and all they did was keep marching, their spirits were slowly ground down. As well as their armour, sword, spear and shield, they each carried food, water and bedding. They marched with this slung on a carrying pole, over one shoulder, the spear over the other. Caelin did not carry a spear but a crossbow and thirty bolts for it, which was just as heavy and twice as awkward.

  The first day they had marched in good order, even having enough breath to shout out marching songs and a few insults at each other.

  By the second day, the weight of everything they carried had silenced them. Instead of singing, they marched with their heads back, trying to suck in enough air to make it to the next brief rest stop. On the third day, they were also carrying doubt. Why were they still marching? They had gone past at least three good places to make a stand and yet they were still pounding down the road. Soon they would be exposing hundreds of Forlish families to the elves.

  By the fourth day, this doubt was heavier than everything else they carried. When would they stop? And how could they turn and fight? When the rest halts were called, men simply collapsed and had to be kicked to their feet by the sergeants. Caelin’s legs hurt, his back hurt, his neck hurt, his feet hurt, his shoulders hurt and his lungs hurt. Even his little finger hurt, where he had picked up a splinter from his carry pole.

  ‘Come on, lads,’ he puffed to Ruttyn and Harald, who were labouring along beside him. ‘Surely you’ve got a few jokes to keep us going? Something about the wife’s mother?’

  ‘It feels like I’m carrying her right now,’ Harald groaned. ‘And she was never one to miss a meal. First time I saw her, I thought they’d dressed up a pig to trick me.’

  Ruttyn managed to contort his open mouth into a smile. ‘I could kill for some bacon right now. You’re making me hungry.’

  ‘That’s more like it! Keep it up,’ Caelin encouraged them.

  Harald puffed and panted. ‘Sorry, sarge. That’s all I’ve got. Can’t think of anything else.’

  ‘My feet hurt so much, I can’t breathe,’ Ruttyn gasped.

  ‘That’s the problem then. You’re breathing all wrong if you’re doing it through your feet. You must have been born upside down,’ Caelin said, blinking sweat out of his eyes.

  ‘Because my feet smell and my nose runs?’ Ruttyn said. ‘Sarge, you’re making jokes now!’

  ‘Better stop there. The world won’t be the same now,’ Harald said. ‘Next thing you’ll tell me is the wife’s mother is a real beauty with a nature as sweet as fresh milk.’

  ‘Or the army is retreating and not stopping to fight,’ Ruttyn said.

  And none of them could say anything more after that.

  Wulf and Edmund marched together, even though they could have ridden. If they were going to put their men through this torture, they had to share the pain. And they were only carrying sword and armour. King Ward was riding, of course, but they had seen Prince Wilfrid ride past, not even looking at the suffering men, and exchanged a glance.

  ‘We’re going to have to stop soon,’ Wulf said with a grimace.

  ‘What are you talking about? We had a rest stop not a turn of the hourglass ago.’

  ‘No, I mean stop and fight. They’re beginning to think we can’t beat the elves.’

  Edmund snorted. ‘For a simple man, you have too sharp a mind.’

  ‘I’ve always been the keenest blade in the room. Just made sure I’m usually the only one in the room.’

  Edmund chuckled and then groaned as a stitch bit into his left side.

  ‘Breathe out as your foot that side hits the ground,’ Wulf advised.

  ‘And that fixes it?’

  ‘Not really, but thinking about it takes your mind off the pain.’

  Edmund shook his head, sucking in deep breaths every other pace.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ Wulf asked.

  ‘Hope that the Velsh can do something with those prisoners to stop the traitor Sumiko’s plans.’

  No sooner had he spoken than a scout galloped past, one of the cavalrymen keeping a close eye on their pursuers.

  ‘What is it, soldier?’ Edmund called.

  The scout reined his mount in and trotted over to Edmund.

  ‘The elves haven’t broken camp. We are drawing away from them,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe the Velsh made your wish come true,’ Wulf told Edmund hopefully.

  ‘Wait here, Father — let me look inside,’ Gaibun said instantly. ‘If it is a trap, she will waste it by springing it on me.’

  Retsu hesitated, then nodded. ‘Do it, my son. Sendatsu, go with him. Asami, Rhiannon, you too.’

  Sendatsu drew his sword. ‘You go left, I’ll go right.’ He tapped Gaibun on the shoulder.

  ‘Remember, I still owe you a life,’ Gaibun said lightly.

  ‘I don’t want to collect it here. Although I hope it is an obvious trap, so your father learns his lesson,’ Sendatsu muttered.

  The tent was still and peaceful, large enough for a score of people to fit inside. They hesitated at the opening, then nodded to each other and plunged inside, Sendatsu jumping to the right.

  Nobody sprang out to attack them. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the interior. Lanterns hung all around, light blazing out, revealing the main part of the tent, although the back was partitioned off by linen curtains. There were a dozen chairs set in a semicircle, facing the doorway of the tent. Jaken sat in the centre, stiff and unmoving and Sumiko stood behind him. She gasped as Asami and Rhiannon slipped in through the doorway.

  ‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’ Sumiko demanded.

  ‘Why are you speaking for my father? Are you now the Elder Elf?’ Sendatsu challenged. The sight of his father sitting there, Sumiko’s hands possessively on his shoulders, was infuriating.

  ‘I might as well be, although your father still holds that title. Did you know he was going to ask the archbishop to set aside all political marriages, so he could abandon your mother and marry me?’ Sumiko asked.

  Sendatsu took an involuntary step backwards. ‘You have been his mistress?’

  Sumiko smiled. ‘Your father thought me that. He also claimed I was a spy for him in the ranks of the Magic-weavers. He even said he loved me. Yet all the time I was using him, tricking him, making sure he was the one taking all the risks but manoeuvring him so that the power came back to the Magic-weavers, and to me.’

  ‘He would never have let himself be used like that,’ Sendatsu spat.

  ‘But he did. All because I was the only one who could cure his impotence. Imagine that, the fabled mind of Lord Jaken, brought down by his loins. He thought he was so clever, yet, like all warriors, he was ruled by his smallest organ. How does that feel, to know your father cared more about sex than his honour, his clan, even his family?’

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nbsp; Sendatsu glared at her, including his father in his stare. He had no doubt she was right.

  ‘I have always known he was selfish,’ he said. He wanted to rage at his father but he would not give her the satisfaction.

  ‘And how are the rest of you? Are you here to attack me?’ She looked at the others.

  ‘Enough talk, witch.’ Gaibun pointed at her. ‘I will have my revenge.’

  Sumiko shook her head. ‘I merely revealed the truth to you — that you were too weak to do anything about it is not my problem. I thought you would have removed Sendatsu and claimed Asami for your own but you were not good enough. But then you were never good enough for her, were you?’

  ‘Don’t.’ Asami grabbed Gaibun’s arm as he stepped forwards. ‘Ignore her. She wants to provoke a reaction.’

  ‘What I want is to speak to Retsu, not his trained monkeys. Where is he? Too scared to speak to me?’

  ‘Insult us all you want,’ Asami said levelly. ‘But we are here to stop you.’

  Sumiko threw back her head and laughed. ‘Do you four really think you can stop me? How delightful! I have been leading you around by the nose for the last few moons. I sent Sendatsu out into the human world to test the barrier and see if it would kill him. I pushed Hanto into attacking you; I kicked you out of Dokuzen. I watched Asami and Gaibun declare they were going to play myself and Jaken off against each other to get you back and then used you to do my bidding thereafter. And I made Rhiannon attack me in front of the Council to ruin the alliance between elves and Velsh. You have all been working for me, whether you knew it or not.’

  ‘And yet we are still here,’ Sendatsu said. ‘You have sent swarms of your killers after us. But each time you have failed. We have beaten you many times to stand here, ruined your clever plans each time. And now we shall end your plotting.’

  Sumiko stopped laughing. ‘No, you won’t. This is your last chance. You all have talents that I can use and I will let you be part of the new world I shall create. Bow down to me now, swear to serve me and I shall make you into lords of these lands.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be making this offer to us unless you were afraid of us,’ Gaibun said.

  ‘You are a fool. What about you, Asami? Rhiannon? Will you seal your own fate or take your place by my side?’

  ‘Did you make that offer to all the elves you killed in Dokuzen? The ones you had the Forlish cut down like animals?’ Asami asked. ‘Did you offer it to my father, before you betrayed and killed him?’

  ‘This offer is only for those worthy. There must be sacrifices made.’ Sumiko shrugged.

  ‘You are mad. We will make you pay for your crimes,’ Rhiannon swore. ‘Give up now or we shall destroy you. We have you outnumbered and there are no guards.’

  Sumiko stared at her. ‘I will only surrender to Retsu. Bring him here or I shall fight.’

  The four of them exchanged looks, then Gaibun opened the tent doorway and signalled. Retsu strode in a few moments later.

  ‘Lord Retsu. I think we can both agree that Lord Jaken is no longer suited to running the elven nation,’ Sumiko said, offering him a short bow.

  ‘And neither are you. I will be taking control,’ Retsu told her. ‘You will be tried for your crimes against Dokuzen.’

  ‘I regret that is not possible,’ Sumiko said. She lifted her hands off Jaken’s shoulders.

  Jaken’s eyes suddenly came to life and he surged to his feet, drawing his sword. He did not speak but instead levelled his sword at Asami, the intent unmistakeable.

  ‘Wait, Father!’ Sendatsu snapped.

  But Jaken did not react, appearing to not even hear his words. Instead, he leaped into the attack, sword swinging for Asami’s head.

  Everyone else stopped in shock at Jaken’s sudden transformation, from silent statue to snarling attacker — except Sendatsu. His own blade cleared its scabbard in an instant and he jumped in front of Asami to block the blow, which rang loudly in the confines of the tent and ran all the way up his arm to make his teeth shiver.

  ‘Father! You are under a spell!’ Sendatsu shouted.

  Jaken looked at him and there was fury in his eyes.

  ‘Lord Jaken, it is me!’ Asami cried. ‘Sumiko has you under her magic!’

  But Jaken just launched a blistering attack at Sendatsu, his hate-filled eyes locked on Asami.

  Sendatsu was horribly reminded of the fight they had had back in his father’s villa, when Jaken had so nearly killed him before Daichi’s guards had intervened. Then he had no more time to think as he blocked and parried his father’s blade.

  Gaibun rushed in from the side, seeking to break Jaken’s concentration, but Jaken simply stepped back and across, allowing the two of them to tangle each other up for a moment, then his sword flickered out and Gaibun had to back away, almost hitting Sendatsu as he tried to avoid the shining steel.

  ‘Rhiannon!’ Asami cried.

  They nodded to each other and reached into the magic to try to free Jaken of whatever he was under. But they were instantly blocked and looked up to see Sumiko standing with her hands raised, a slight smile on her face.

  ‘It is a shame to stop it now. Don’t you want to see how it ends?’ she asked.

  From behind the tent partition, Oroku joined her, adding his power to hers and the four of them became locked in a magical wrestling match, neither side able to get the advantage.

  Meanwhile, Sendatsu and Gaibun tried to keep the furious Jaken away from Asami.

  ‘Jaken! Enough!’ Retsu snapped and Jaken turned on him, sword swinging at his face. Gaibun was only just able to deflect the blow in time.

  ‘Get your father out of here!’ Sendatsu yelled. ‘We cannot lose him!’

  Gaibun only hesitated a moment before grabbing his father and dragging him out of the tent.

  Sendatsu and his father glared at each other, shifting slightly as they sought to gain advantage. Behind him, Asami was locked in her silent struggle with Sumiko. Sendatsu knew he had to give them time to wear her down. Unlike last time, his mind was not filled with thoughts of his children. Instead he was remembering how Jaken’s selfishness and carnal desires had allowed Sumiko to gain power and lead them to this point. His last illusions about his father had been destroyed by her words and his lying and cheating. Sendatsu realised he was looking forward to stopping his father.

  Jaken launched a blistering attack, similar to the one that had so nearly killed Sendatsu back at their home, slicing down, whipping upwards in a gutting blow, then back across at neck level. Sendatsu parried all three and then cut back himself, forcing Jaken to retreat a pace.

  Then his father flowed forwards once more.

  Sendatsu sprang to meet him, flowing from dragon-tail cut into windmill, cartwheel stroke to the tiger-claw. Between the two straining groups of Magic-weavers, they battled back and forth. Sendatsu kicked a chair at Jaken, forcing his father to leap away, then his sword was there as his father landed, forcing him to sway backwards. Sendatsu pressed his advantage, lost in the movement of the swords. Side to side, up and down, his blade cut through the air almost too fast for the eye to follow. But Jaken was equal to it, although forced to retreat.

  Just as Sendatsu thought he had his father backed into a corner, Jaken’s sword caught a chair and flicked it up at Sendatsu’s face. Instinctively he reared back and Jaken went on the attack an instant later, trying to take out Sendatsu’s ankles then, when he jumped, launched a straight thrust that sliced open Sendatsu’s tunic and just kissed his side as he desperately leaned away.

  The pain of the shallow wound sharpened his mind even further. Time began to slow for him and every tiny detail stood out clearly.

  His father’s eyes were strangely unfocused. Sendatsu had always been taught to read an opponent’s eyes, work out what they were doing before they attempted it, but that was almost impossible with his father’s eyes. Sendatsu had fought his father so many times he knew his favourite moves and tricks. Of course, in the past, knowing what was coming a
nd stopping it were two different things. Now, with his mind at peace, he found he was a fraction faster, not committing himself to a full parry, merely enough to deflect his father’s blade and give him the chance to strike back before his father had recovered properly. He circled around a fallen chair, his footing sure and steady, driving his father backwards and using his own strength and power to make Jaken’s sword ring. Both were sweating but neither could spare a heartbeat to wipe any away, for that would leave a fatal opening. Beads of sweat flew every time their swords clashed but Sendatsu knew he was both younger and in better shape than his father.

  He leaped high and then cut low, forcing his father to parry, then twisted his wrists and slid his sword up to slide across his father’s ribs, kissing his blade with a thin strip of his father’s blood.

  Jaken’s mouth opened in a wordless roar of anger and he fell back a pace. Sendatsu hesitated, unsure if that had somehow broken the spell his father was under, then felt a fresh surge of magic strike Jaken. His father staggered another step, then his head snapped up and his eyes cleared.

  ‘Sendatsu,’ he said clearly. ‘You will pay for this. Standing with my enemies, betraying your own father. I knew you were no good from the moment I saw you. You are no son to me.’

  Sendatsu lowered his sword. ‘Father, you are under Sumiko’s control. This has to end.’

  ‘You are not worthy of me!’ Jaken screamed and ran at Sendatsu, his sword a blur. His earlier fury had given him power but had taken the edge off his speed. Now his speed was restored. Each stroke was fearful in its strength and arrived almost too fast to see.

  Sendatsu ducked under one, blocked and covered, realising Sumiko must have used the same trick on Jaken she had tried on Gaibun: brought up his darkest thoughts and given them life.

  It might have slowed Sendatsu down, except he had always known that was what his father thought of him. Jaken had said similar often enough, during Sendatsu’s torturous childhood training sessions.

  His calm was replaced by a fierce anger of his own.