Bridge of Swords

by Duncan Lay

  ‘Your plan, sir?’ Edric prompted him.

  Hector cleared his thoughts. ‘We shall leave your armour and uniforms at the last Forlish village. Without them, we shall be able to move much easier, remain unseen by the crude Velsh. All we have to do is find my daughter and her captor, free her and return to Cridianton with him in chains. And that will be easy enough. This Hugh, or Huw, or however he says his name doesn’t know we are after him — he thinks us still searching in southern Forland. And one or two of us can slip into a Velsh village, ask a few questions and then get out again without any suspicions being raised.’

  Edric rubbed his surcoat between finger and thumb. ‘And what do we wear then, sir?’

  Hector flashed the king’s seal. ‘This will get us whatever we want,’ he promised. ‘Within a few days we shall be returning to Cridianton in triumph, I promise you!’

  Catsfield was another small village, surrounded by rich fields — and by a number of isolated farms.

  ‘How are we going to protect this?’ Rhiannon wondered as they looked across at the scatter of small farms around the village. ‘We can’t possibly build a wall around this lot!’

  Sendatsu scratched his chin. ‘There are no elven buildings either. This looks like a great deal of work for nothing. I think we should ride on to the next village.’

  ‘No!’ Huw snapped. ‘We can’t just leave them here, unprotected! We have to save them, we have to save all of them!’

  Huw’s vehemence, after the earlier friendliness, was all the more unexpected.

  ‘We can’t save everyone,’ Sendatsu said.

  ‘That was not the deal. We need to save as many as we can. And just because they don’t have elven buildings here does not mean they have no answers for you.’

  Sendatsu sighed. ‘Perhaps we could get them to build up each one,’ he suggested, ‘make each of them into a stronghold?’

  ‘They’re made of wood and thatch. Two torches and they’ll go up in smoke,’ Huw pointed out. ‘The only way is to make them move into the main village.’

  ‘And you think they’ll do that?’ Sendatsu asked.

  ‘No. But we have to try anyway,’ Huw said grimly.

  ‘And the Velsh? Can I speak to them this time?’

  Huw hesitated. From his conversation with Dafyd, he doubted Sendatsu would ever find the answers he sought. Huw’s father, Earwen, always said his knowledge of the ancient times was barely half that of the Crumliners. Yet Dafyd only had the same stories Earwen had told. And Huw did not think the Crumliner was holding anything back — he genuinely did not know any more. So this quest was going to become a delicate balancing act. He needed to give the elf a little hope, to keep him working on protecting the villages. If Sendatsu discovered the answers he sought were not in Vales, what would happen then? Already he was complaining about helping villages without evidence of elven history.

  ‘I tell you what — any village without elven buildings, you can speak directly to the people,’ he offered, hoping this compromise would buy him enough time to protect most of Vales.

  ‘Then we should stop wasting time out here.’ Sendatsu spurred his horse forwards.

  The people of Catsfield flooded out of their homes and in from the fields, regarding the trio suspiciously, even with a fair amount of hostility, which turned to fear and then wonderment as Rhiannon and Huw sang their Sendatsu song.

  Once they knew they were with an elf, they clustered around him and Huw and Rhiannon were forced to push and order them back. But, with that achieved, the villagers listened with complete attention to Huw’s tale of what had happened at Patcham and what Catsfield needed to do. As he had predicted, the idea of leaving their homes and moving into the village proper did not meet with their approval. Even Sendatsu was not enough to get all of them to agree, although perhaps half reluctantly decided to pack up and move into the village until it was safe again. They had the usual debate about magic, before a mixture of persuasion and Sendatsu’s orders saw the villagers begin work on a ditch and a wall, carpenters on crossbows.

  The biggest issue, Sendatsu felt, was their lack of knowledge. The best thing, really the only new thing he got from them, was a comment from a blind old man.

  ‘We don’t worship Aroaril — trying to do that will see you struck down,’ he said.

  ‘How do you know?’ Sendatsu pressed.

  ‘He’s the elven God. Any human who tries to call on Him will be destroyed.’

  ‘And you’ve seen that?’ Sendatsu asked eagerly, then winced at his own words.

  The old man chuckled. ‘Of course not! But who would take the chance?’

  ‘So nobody has tried to find out?’

  ‘I know I’m going to die if I stick a knife in my heart, why would I want to prove it?’

  Sendatsu felt his frustration rise anew. ‘But where does this come from? Surely someone must have told you …’

  The old man shrugged. ‘It was something from my grandfather. Kind of a saying he used to have when he was asked to do something he didn’t want to: I might as well pray to Aroaril. I was but a lad and asked him what that meant, so he told me.’

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ Sendatsu said absently. He could not see Aroaril destroying humans for daring to pray to him — but perhaps it tied in somehow with the church he had found destroyed. Had the elves spread this story, backed it up with magic? Should he try to get some Velsh to pray and see what happened? If only he had more knowledge of Aroaril or even a prayer book …

  He thanked the man and left — only to run into Rhiannon.

  ‘Any luck?’ she asked.

  ‘None at all,’ Sendatsu grumbled. ‘We should move on and try another village.’

  ‘But this one has hardly begun …’

  His desperation to get back to his children outweighed any regard for sense.

  ‘If you want to go to Dokuzen, then you need to help me against Huw. We need to move faster around the villages,’ he said.

  Rhiannon nodded immediately. ‘I can’t wait to go there, to meet your friends and family, walk through the beauty and the wonder … oh, I can see it now!’

  Sendatsu forced a smile onto his face. This is for Mai and Cheijun. I can explain everything to her later, say sorry then, he told himself.

  It worked. Smoke on the horizon the next morning, far across to the east, helped inspire the village to greater efforts. Thanks to Rhiannon’s persistent arguments, Huw agreed the village’s progress was so good they could also ride on.

  ‘We shall keep a good lookout. The beauty of Catsfield is none can sneak up on us — they must ride across miles of pasture to reach our village,’ the leading farmer in Catsfield, a grim-faced, grey-bearded man called Llewellyn, promised as they left.

  ‘Keep a good watch. That is your best defence,’ Sendatsu agreed. ‘Use the dogs too. I know you Velsh like to have them sleep beside you but a dog’s nose is the best warning you have. Then use a horn — anything you can find to warn your people as soon as something is spotted. Then get everyone behind the walls and drown any Forlish who attack in a sea of bolts.’

  ‘Oh, that we can do,’ Llewellyn vowed. Whatever the doubts they had about moving, and about spending the next few days building a wall, they had all been impressed by the elven crossbows.

  ‘Maybe we should have stayed a little longer,’ Huw fretted as they rode away, the wall not even half finished yet.

  ‘We could stay for a month and they would not all be safe. Some of those farmers won’t leave their homes until they are in flames. And by then it will be too late,’ Sendatsu said grimly. ‘We cannot save everyone. We just have to give as many as we can a chance.’

  ‘We have to save as many as possible,’ Huw insisted.

  ‘How? There’re only the three of us,’ Sendatsu pointed out. ‘How can we be everywhere at once?’

  ‘He’s right, Huw,’ Rhiannon agreed.

  Huw opened his mouth to argue but could not find the words to convince them both. But there we
re so many people who still needed to be helped. Sendatsu might have won Rhiannon over but he still had a secret weapon — neither of them knew Vales like he did. He decided to take them south, into the poorer province known as Rheged. There would be less knowledge but plenty of people to help.

  17

  I had known Naibun since boyhood — and he had always hated humans. His father was one of those who thought of himself as an Elf, not an Elfaran, and raised his son the same way. It was the main reason the forefathers chose me and not Naibun to lead. But, while I mourned my wife, Naibun decided to make sure the humans learned their proper place. Humans who knew how to use magic were tracked down, while any churches of Aroaril were also marked. Naibun also created what he called a Border Patrol, ostensibly to protect Dokuzen but, in reality, to drive humans away from elven areas.

  Humans who knew the truth about us were rounded up and books and scrolls that contained the real history were taken; in their place was left stories about a human rebellion and how the humans had betrayed elves with their lust for violence. He intended for the humans of these lands to never dare challenge elven supremacy. He did it slowly and carefully — and very effectively.

  Much of the smoke seemed to be coming from the south each morning and Huw was bursting to get down there and help the people. He steered them that way, although it did not take long for Sendatsu to realise which direction they were travelling.

  ‘It’s too late for the people down south,’ Sendatsu growled. ‘We should cut our losses and worry about saving those who still have a chance. If we hurry, we can protect many of the villages in this central part of Vales before the Forlish can get in there.’

  ‘And we condemn the people living in Rheged to a nightmare of rape and fire and blood!’ Huw spat.

  ‘Better a few than many. Who knows how many more bands of Forlish raiders are heading north every day? Would you have us waste our time saving ones who are already lost? Remember, it takes days to build a wall around a village. Do you think the Forlish will sit and watch us do that — or will they come rushing in one night, through a half-finished palisade? We could doom more people that way …’

  ‘We still have to try!’ Huw cried, stopping Sendatsu’s flow of reasonableness. ‘We have to try,’ he repeated. ‘I cannot walk away when I know people are suffering. Think of the children!’

  Sendatsu was silenced instantly. It was all he thought about. Huw, not knowing, pressed his advantage.

  ‘Can you bear to see them dead, can you stand to ride away knowing all those tiny faces will cry out in fear, will haunt your dreams for ever more?’

  Sendatsu shuddered at the thought. Curse the bard — he has found my weakness.

  ‘That’s enough, Huw — can’t you see how it hurts him?’ Rhiannon cried.

  Sendatsu managed to give Rhiannon a smile and congratulated himself for getting her on his side — even if he had been forced to lie to do so. But he could not hold his tongue when Huw declared they would also stop at villages on the way to Rheged.

  ‘If we are going to do this, we need to get south as fast as possible, give ourselves time,’ he argued.

  ‘But we can’t just ride past villages and not tell them, not help them protect themselves,’ Huw said.

  ‘You can’t have it both ways! You have to make a decision about who you want to save!’

  Huw could hear the sense in Sendatsu’s argument — he just could not bring himself to accept it. He knew, deep inside, that if he rode past a village, then the Forlish would strike it, people would die and it would be his fault. It was stupid, perhaps, but it was how he felt.

  ‘Perhaps he is right, Huw …’ Rhiannon ventured.

  ‘But we can’t let people die! Not if we can save them!’ Huw said in anguish.

  ‘Huw, I know how you feel,’ she tried to begin.

  ‘No, you don’t!’

  That was too much. ‘You are not the only one to have lost your father!’ she snapped.

  Huw, as ever, was silenced by the memory of his lies to her.

  ‘Look, we can stop at these villages but if we get to Rheged and there’re too many raiders, we agree to come back.’ Sendatsu seized his chance.

  Reluctantly, Huw agreed.

  King Ward had given up on his two sons some years before. Their mother, Queen Mildrith, had poisoned their minds, until all they cared about was slaughter and glory for themselves. She also hated him for his philandering but he could not blame her for that. But the way she had filled his sons’ heads with foolishness and frippery was too much. Still, of late, he had felt time slipping away from him, so called them in once more.

  ‘What are we doing here, Father?’ Wilfrid was the older, a powerful young man with a flat face and vicious eyes.

  ‘Captain Edmund here will brief you on our campaign in Vales and how we shall bring them under our control. When they are begging to become part of Forland, I shall send one of you north to make it happen.’

  ‘Why don’t we just kill them? They’re a pack of sheep-shaggers and there’s nothing worth taking up there,’ Uffa grunted. He was shorter than Wilfrid but had the same eyes as well as wide lips, which made his mouth always look vacant.

  ‘Listen to Captain Edmund and find out,’ Ward said, controlling his temper.

  ‘Why do we need to know?’

  ‘Because you are princes of Forland and must learn to use your minds as well as your muscles! I did not devote my life to this kingdom to have you throw it away after I am gone!’ he roared at them.

  Instantly their faces closed down and he cursed.

  ‘Edmund, see what you can do with them,’ he snarled, stalking out of the room before he said something worse. He did not have the time or patience for them.

  They left the villages of Glottenham and Abergavenny protected but, by the time they left Pigstrood, both Huw and Sendatsu were about to blow — for completely different reasons.

  Huw was furious with the way Sendatsu was using Rhiannon against him. If only he could discover the elf’s secret, tucked in that belt pouch, he was sure he could stop that. But Sendatsu kept it hidden. Then there was Rhiannon herself. She was obviously happy, laughing at the funny names of villages such as Pigstrood. He found himself resenting her. She was glowing, as well as growing, obviously revelling in her new-found freedom — and in Sendatsu. He hated that she was so happy to be with the elf and he could not make her feel that way.

  Weighed against that was the work Sendatsu was doing in those villages. Thanks to him, they were all protected. He was keeping up his end of the bargain — but he was growing more frustrated with the lack of answers these villages were yielding. Huw longed to see the elf go, yet was afraid Sendatsu might find something that would take him back to Dokuzen — and take Rhiannon and hope for the Velsh away with him. He was torn.

  When the third village had yielded nothing, Sendatsu was about to put his fist through a wall. The fear was growing inside him that there were no answers. He had even showed the book to a few Velsh in Glottenham and Pigstrood but they had no idea what the strange writing meant. Huw had claimed the people of Abergavenny knew nothing either. What if Sumiko was wrong? She had been so sure all the evidence the Magic-weavers needed was out here but all that remained were fragments. Every day took him further from his children and just saying goodnight to their toys was not enough any more. Especially when he suspected Huw was trying to catch sight of what he was doing. Several times he had nearly been caught by the bard. He dreaded to think what would happen with Rhiannon if she found out he had children. He found himself contemplating just returning to Dokuzen. He lay awake at night dreaming about seizing back Mai and Cheijun, persuading Asami to leave with him and all of them coming to live here, far from his father and the reach of the elves.

  Then he recalled Hanto’s angry face in the bushes and knew it was hopeless — he would never be able to relax.

  But he was left tired and irritable, more so by his inability to find something familiar to eat or hav
e anything resembling a bath. Being forced to endlessly repeat the same things to Velsh villages hardly helped his mood. If only he could get something, some hope to keep him going …

  ‘Where do you Velsh get your names from?’ Sendatsu asked, as they rode away from Pigstrood, Rhiannon still snorting with laughter but able to add her thoughts.

  ‘Aye. Why are there names you can barely pronounce and then others that are just obvious?’

  Huw’s vow to keep what he knew to himself could not survive this provocation. ‘It is not a joke. Some of the names are our own, while others are in the tongue we all use now, after the elves took away everyone’s languages,’ he blurted.

  Sendatsu stopped laughing. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It is nothing.’ Huw tried to cover it up.

  ‘Nothing? This is what I have been seeking and you have had it all the time!’ Sendatsu roared.

  ‘Come on, Huw, you have to tell us — this could be our ticket to Dokuzen,’ Rhiannon said excitedly. ‘Please, Huw, tell us what you know.’

  Huw cursed himself but there was no going back now.

  ‘Well, you have probably seen there is a connection between the names of the villages and when they were founded. My father told me those with strange names, like Abergavenny, are much older and date back to a time before the elves came here, when we had our own language. Those names have meanings in old Velsh, meaning that has been lost through the centuries, with only the strange words remaining to us. Newer villages, built since the elves left, have more ordinary names, that we can all understand.’