by Duncan Lay
‘Not even angry dragons could make me test him for magic,’ Rhiannon declared, while Sendatsu had to look away.
‘As I said, this is a waste of time,’ the young man grunted and resumed walking.
Rhiannon grabbed his arm. ‘Wait. You must have dreamed of dragons to come here in the first place.’
‘Yes, I did,’ he admitted.
‘Then let us test you first. What’s your name?’
‘I am Bevan of Crumlin.’
Rhiannon bent down and snatched up a small tuft of grass with soil attached and placed it on the flat of her hand.
‘Very good. You just need Dung Sniffer there to fertilise it and in a few months you’ll have a lovely plant,’ Bevan said.
‘I don’t need any of that,’ Rhiannon said softly and reached into the magic, making the grass grow, until it covered the whole of her hand. She looked up at Bevan. ‘Did you feel what I did then?’
He shrugged. ‘I felt something strange, as if all my senses had come truly alive for the first time …’
Sendatsu and Rhiannon exchanged glances.
‘Try to make the grass grow,’ she suggested, her voice betraying her excitement. ‘Reach out and imagine you can talk to it, then tell it to get bigger.’
Bevan glanced across at Sendatsu and then back to Rhiannon. ‘That sounds as crazy as wanting to share a meal with Dung Sniffer.’
‘Try it,’ Sendatsu urged.
With a shrug, Bevan held his hand over the grass on Rhiannon’s hand and Sendatsu felt the ripple as he reached into the magic and laughed aloud as the grass doubled in height in the blink of an eye.
‘Was that right? Did I do it?’ Bevan asked as Huw glanced eagerly at an excited Rhiannon and Sendatsu.
‘We have our first Velsh Magic-weaver,’ Rhiannon confirmed.
‘You are not going anywhere.’ Huw patted Bevan on the back enthusiastically. ‘Who knows how many more wait for us in there?’
Rhiannon and Sendatsu grinned at each other, then a powerful smell wiped the smiles off their faces. A harsh voice interrupted them and they turned slowly to see Dung Sniffer holding out a handful of reeking sheep droppings.
‘Are you ready to test me now, because these are best used when warm and I’ll need to collect some more if we wait any longer.’
‘Don’t say anything,’ Rhiannon warned Sendatsu, as he opened his mouth.
Ward looked back over his shoulder as he rode out of Cridianton. The buildings and the wall around his city looked even more beautiful from this side, he decided. Especially when he had feared he was never going to get the chance to see them from anything but his bed.
‘We shall ride back in triumph, Father,’ Wilfrid said from behind him. ‘The walls will be lined with people cheering our names!’
Ward exchanged a look with Edmund and said nothing. He felt he had to go north, see for himself what was happening. Waiting in Cridianton for news would be unbearable. He did not trust the elven Magic-weaver and would-be leader Sumiko and he needed to see events unfolding. Everything he had already won and done was at risk and not even Edmund could be trusted to make all the right choices, but leaving Mildrith to watch Cridianton while he took his sons and Edmund north was also a huge risk, especially as he had stripped the southern countries of men to replace those lost in the forest around Dokuzen. Behind him marched five thousand battle-hardened Forlish soldiers, almost every man he had under his flag. He had left only one regiment down south and, should things go wrong, every country he had taken would rise against him. He smiled to himself. He should be dead, according to the Landish doctors. Anything from now on was a victory.
‘Sire, you don’t have to do this. Captain Wulf knows what he is doing. He can look after the army while I take men into Dokuzen with the elven traitor,’ Edmund said softly.
‘Wulf is a good man and if I had to hold a defensive line, he would be my first choice. But we have thousands of elven warriors to worry about, even before we think about the elven-trained Velsh, who are quite capable of giving us trouble by themselves. This is something I need to do.’
Edmund bowed his head and Ward relaxed in the saddle, enjoying the sensation of having a healthy body once more, feeling fresh air stream into his lungs. His castle was beautiful but it was so cold. To ride in the warm sun, with his sons beside him — this was life.
‘What if this is all a trap and we find the elven army waiting to destroy us?’ Uffa asked.
Ward bit back his first, angry words. They were trying — both Wilfrid and Uffa were trying. He had wanted them to think and to ask questions. He had to be patient; he wanted to be patient.
‘We have been over this before,’ Edmund answered for him. ‘I have one day, dawn to sunset, to get into Dokuzen and get back again with hostages. If I am not back by then, we know it is a trap but, even before then, we prepare for the worst. When we met the elves outside Dokuzen, we had no cavalry and, as Captain Wulf discovered, that is the elves’ weakness. We shall have a prepared defensive position on a ground of our choosing and if they come to us, they will find it a different story.’
‘But if all goes to plan and the traitor gets Edmund back out of Dokuzen safely, the elves will not try anything with their leaders in our grasp,’ Ward instructed.
‘And then, once the traitor has taken power and given us what we want, we turn on her and strike at Dokuzen?’ Wilfrid hazarded.
‘No!’ Ward roared, then clutched the reins until the leather bit into his hands. ‘No, we release the old leaders and let the elves fight among themselves, as well as let them destroy the Velsh. Once that is done, and they are weaker, then we strike at them. You must make your move when your enemy least expects it, at a time when they are most vulnerable.’
They nodded doubtfully.
‘We shall meet the traitor’s accomplice at the border,’ he said. ‘There is no sense in them betraying us at this stage. The traitor needs us to take power. By using us to destroy her enemies, she can take power without any fighting or bitterness. Do you see?’ Ward appealed to his sons and they nodded again, their eyes doubtful.
Ward seethed a little. How could Edmund see things so clearly and yet his sons stumble around as if in the dark? Their mother was not a foolish woman, despite her bitterness. Perhaps if he had spent more time with them when they were younger … He shook his head. Such speculation was useless. They would ride north and test his sons in the heat of battle.
‘You have to test yourself, every day, find your limits,’ Rhiannon told her class of Magic-weavers, echoing what Asami had told her back in Dokuzen.
Each day brought the discovery of new Velsh who could use magic, though there were still many strange characters claiming to do magic who needed to be weeded out — usually unwashed older men or women with many cats. While none could match her strength, Sendatsu swore they had enough power to be called Magic-weavers in Dokuzen, while an older man called Cedrik and the first man they had found, Bevan, were at a higher level again.
She had them working with plants and animals, building up their newfound strength, before working individually with each of them. It was a thrill to find others who could use magic — especially ones with as much magic as Bevan, and she worked with him more and more.
She took him to the oak tree near Patcham to show him how to open a gateway. Using that tree so many times was dulling the pain she associated with the clearing but it was still hard to go there. Bevan must have picked up on her mood, because he tried to make her laugh on the ride out there. He succeeded as well, despite her reluctance, and she found herself laughing at his jokes. But the sight of the clearing, with her father’s hidden grave and the looming memories of magic and loss, dampened her spirits and she was brusque as she explained how to open up a gateway.
When he placed his hand on hers on the tree trunk, she turned to ask why, and he leaned in and kissed her.
Rhiannon froze for an instant in surprise, then kissed him back reflexively, before breaking away.
> ‘What? Why did you —’ she spluttered and the smile died on his face.
‘If I upset you, I am very sorry,’ he said gently. ‘But you must know how I feel about you. You are so beautiful, so powerful — you are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I felt there was real magic between us. If I was wrong, please, don’t let this affect my training.’
Rhiannon’s first instinct was to shout at him, declare she was already taken — but was she really? Until now, her choice had been Huw, or no Huw. Now it was obvious there was a third choice and Bevan was undoubtedly handsome, as well as growing in the magic; where once she had been sure, now she doubted. Huw was her first friend but their relationship was so complicated. And this was harmless, she told herself.
‘You just caught me by surprise. But next time, ask first,’ she said.
‘How about now?’ Bevan grinned.
‘How about you keep your mind on what you are doing!’
‘I am ready to be instructed by you, any time and anywhere.’ He smiled, looking in her eyes, and she had to admit, the offer was more than a little tempting. But not here. Certainly not here.
‘I’ll think about it. Now, let’s create a gateway,’ she said briskly.
But lurking at the back of her mind was the feeling of his lips on hers. She wished she had Asami to talk to about this — she knew all about being chased by two men.
‘This is the moment. All is coming together,’ Sumiko told Oroku and Jimai quietly, the three of them sitting in what had once been Daichi’s office. ‘We must seize this opportunity. Oroku, you will journey to the Forlish king, bring a group of his men here during the Council meeting tomorrow, then get them back out again. We need a few Forlish bodies to be found, to prove who is behind this. And we need witnesses to see magic being used. Jimai, you need to lead the defence of Dokuzen, make it seem as though you are being defeated by magic.’
‘But what about Asami? She might —’ Jimai began.
‘She will be dead overnight. I have made the arrangements,’ Sumiko dismissed. ‘It is vital that no living Forlish are left to be questioned. Jimai, if you see any wounded Forlish, you must kill them instantly. The people must know who their attackers were but cannot know who helped them.’
‘Sensei, should we really do this?’ Jimai blurted.
The silence that fell across the room was stifling and Oroku gently edged his chair away from Jimai.
‘You are thinking of backing out? Going to talk to Jaken, perhaps?’ Sumiko said dangerously.
‘Of course not, sensei! But to destroy the Council Chambers, kill the people — surely there is a better way to take power than this! Then there is Gaibun and Retsu. When Asami is killed they will come looking for us. Gaibun will not care there is no evidence. We all agree that Dokuzen needs to change and that Jaken’s rule has to end but is this —’
‘Do not worry about Gaibun. I will take care of him,’ Sumiko interrupted. ‘As to the rest of it, do you have a better plan?’
Jimai gulped. ‘If we spoke to the people —’
‘The ones who fall down to their knees when Jaken walks past and call him gaijin slayer?’
Jimai hung his head. ‘It just feels wrong,’ he said miserably.
Sumiko sighed. ‘It is the only way,’ she said gently. ‘Help me and you shall be rewarded beyond your imagination. Speak to Jaken and I shall see you die screaming. What do you want?’
Jimai lifted his head. ‘Of course I shall help you,’ he said hoarsely.
‘Good. All you need to do is fight the Forlish that come here. You would do that anyway, would you not?’
‘Yes, sensei.’
‘See. It will not be so hard. And afterwards it will all be worth it, I promise.’
Jimai and Oroku bowed and left her alone with her thoughts. She decided to tell Oroku to kill Jimai during the battle. Yes, that was the best way to finish things off neatly. He was safe enough until then. After all, who was he going to see? There was no evidence and just talking of such things would get him killed.
Asami pulled the hood over her head and slipped out of the villa, following her two cleaners, who had finished for the day. Ever since reading about the lie within Dokuzen’s system, she had tripled the pay of the servants, begun using magic to clean up, begun to ask more questions of them about their families, trying to see how she might be able to help their children. She had even toyed with the idea of getting rid of all servants, trying to set an example for other nobles to follow — but had reluctantly realised that might do more harm than good; without work, how would they feed their families? They had been somewhat surprised at her sudden interest in them but delighted at the extra pay. Asami knew word of what she was paying would soon spread and cause problems — not least when Gaibun saw where his money was going — but she did not care.
Strangely, a day after that had begun, her maid had disappeared. She had sent messages to the girl’s home but heard nothing back. That was disappointing, for she had been an excellent worker, but all the others were happy with the extra pay and it was easy enough to find a replacement.
Better yet, she had decided that while she could not walk the streets as Asami without risking another attack, she could easily get out dressed in the simple clothes and cloak of an esemono — and might even be able to use that to follow Sumiko and discern what she was up to. Gaibun and Retsu’s solution to the danger was to order her to stay inside and post guards at the front door. But how could she do nothing? To sit and wait and rely on others — she could not stand that any longer. Several times she had found herself wishing she could talk to Rhiannon, wondered how her attempts to find Velsh with magic powers were going. Once or twice she had even called down a bird, wanting to send it west with a message. But then she remembered what Rhiannon had done; how she had slept with Sendatsu and lied about it. The mere thought of Sendatsu was enough to make Asami’s blood boil. Each time, she sent the bird away.
But she could not walk away from this situation with Sumiko, no matter how much Retsu and Gaibun wanted her to. They thought they knew best for her. It was exactly the same sort of frustration she had encountered all her life. They wanted to pat her on the head and tell her everything was fine. She should not worry her pretty little head about such things. Go back to your cooking and cleaning. They were too afraid to confront Jaken with their suspicions, thinking Sumiko too powerful. But if she had real evidence of Sumiko’s deceit and plans, then even Jaken could not ignore that.
The guards on her front door did not give her a second glance — which did not make her feel reassured about their skills, no matter what Gaibun had said. The long cloak she was wearing covered her from head to toe and also disguised the fact she had her sword. The greatest problem she had was remembering she was supposed to be an esemono. She was used to walking proudly, having people step out of her way; now she had to shuffle aside for anyone of noble rank.
She went to Sumiko’s beautiful new home, the villa formerly owned by Daichi. The garden looked even more lovely now but Asami knew better than to try to enter there — it would be the best guard Sumiko had.
Asami paused outside. She was reminded of the time she had gone there with Sendatsu to confront Daichi and she wondered what he was doing now, what he would have done if he was here.
‘Watch where you are going, esemono!’ a harsh voice said and she was shoved aside roughly.
She forced herself to apologise as the plump merchant bustled past, not sparing her a second glance. She was tempted to make his obi fall off, bringing his hakama trousers to the ground, but reluctantly held back, knowing that using magic outside Sumiko’s home would be as foolish as knocking on the front door.
Instead she walked slowly past and waited behind a large statue of one of Daichi’s ancestors, a self-satisfied-looking Elder Elf from more than one hundred years ago. Whenever somebody walked past, she pretended to be begging and was rewarded with them moving swiftly away, not deigning to look at her.
She waite
d there for more than a turn of the hourglass, wondering if she was wasting her time and hoping she was not spotted by an acquaintance, when there was finally some action at Sumiko’s villa: the door opened and Oroku walked out.
Asami flattened herself against the statue as Sumiko’s deputy looked left and right along the street and then hurried off towards Dokuzen’s central park. Asami let him go past and waited until she was sure no others were going to follow him, then hurried after, this time less careful about how she was walking and even brushing past a few outraged tradesmen, moving too fast for them to bother with but attracting several angry cries.
Inside the cloak, she burned at Dokuzen’s society and how everyone thought they were better than someone else. Your status was defined by how many people you looked down on. Even the esemono followed that principle, thinking themselves far above humans.
Then Oroku darted into the park, heading for a stand of oak trees, and she increased her pace, heedless of who might see her now. The chance to get Oroku alone and question him was too good to lose. She was watching him when she collided with someone coming the other way. She spun to face them, angry words springing to her lips before she remembered who she was supposed to be.
‘You clumsy esemono! I ought to have your head for that!’ an enraged young noble shouted, his hand going for his sword.
Asami stepped past him, planning to run out of his reach but he was faster, grabbing her hood and pulling it down, dragging her back at the same time.
‘Hey — don’t I know you?’ the noble accused.
Asami had no more time to waste on the fool and slammed her fist into his throat, sending him choking to the ground. But a quick glance towards Oroku told her the Magic-weaver had heard the commotion and, worse, spotted her.
For a moment she thought he would call for help, then he plunged into the trees. Asami raced after him, hand holding her scabbard out to the side, careless of the shocked looks she was getting from the people nearby. She tore around a pair of trees to see Oroku standing before a third, a staff in his hand — he was obviously preparing to step through an oaken gateway somewhere. Asami reached into the magic and caused a large branch to drop. The Magic-weaver was forced to leap back or be hit and she covered the ground between them swiftly.