by Duncan Lay
Oroku’s face twisted in terror as he rolled onto his back and jabbed his makeshift staff at her, reaching into the magic at the same time to try to throw her backwards. But she had far more power than he did and it was child’s play to block his feeble attempt and turn it back on him, use the grass around to bind him and trap him, hold him helpless.
‘Let me go! Sumiko will have your head for this!’ Oroku spat, struggling to free himself.
‘She already wants my head. But it is your head that you should be worried about,’ Asami told him coldly. ‘Give me some answers and you shall walk away from here. Try to hold out and all they will find is your corpse.’
‘An empty threat!’ Oroku sneered.
Asami sent a stream of ants pouring over his face, into his ears, nose and mouth. Oroku choked and snorted, trying to throw his head around, but the plants held him immobile. Asami let them continue until his eyes bulged and he was trying to scream, then brought the ants back out again.
She let Oroku lie there for a moment, panting and shuddering.
‘Are you ready to talk, or do I have to do worse things to you?’ she asked coldly.
‘Sumiko will kill me if —’
She did not even let him finish his sentence before sending a stream of ants back into his ears, where their bites had him screaming. So much so that she had to stop his voice.
‘Sumiko is not here. But I am. And your suffering will make others tremble if you do not tell me what is going on!’
When he glared at her, she brought spiders out of the trees to sink their fangs into his face, each bite bringing forth a silent scream.
‘Ready to talk now?’
She gave him his voice back and he gasped, ‘Enough! What do you want to know?’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Forland, to see the Forlish king.’
‘And why does Sumiko want to speak to the Forlish king again? Why the secrecy?’
He hesitated and she reluctantly signalled to her waiting tiny accomplices, letting him see them walk across his swollen face.
‘What in Aroaril’s name is going on here?’ someone asked loudly behind her.
Asami spun, hand going to her sword hilt, her mind gathering magic to defend herself, to see the young noble and a pair of his friends staring at her.
‘You’re not an esemono, are you?’ the noble accused, his throat red, his voice hoarse from her blow.
‘Leave us. This is no business of yours,’ Asami said roughly.
‘But I think it is. You struck me and you need to be punished.’
Asami drew her sword. ‘I am Tadayoshi Onamai Asami, former leader of the Magic-weavers and wife to Tadayoshi Gaibun, commander of the Border Patrol. My father is a friend of Lord Jaken’s. Walk away now or it will be your heads sent rolling.’
The young noble’s two friends glanced nervously around and began backing away but the noble drew his own sword.
‘If it is a lesson in swords you require, then I shall be happy to give it to you,’ he announced.
‘Boku, we should go. This is not right,’ one of his friends hissed, plucking at his sleeve.
But the noble advanced and Asami moved into the guard position, sword held low, eyes narrowed dangerously. Her concentration was focused too much on this new threat, however, and she heard a grunt from behind her, remembering too late that Oroku was one of the more talented Magic-weavers.
She rolled to her left, coming to her feet sure that she was about to be attacked by both magic and sword — to see Oroku create an oaken gateway and step through, vanishing into the heart of an oak tree.
Asami cursed viciously, swinging to face the suddenly nervous noble, who had stopped advancing and was glancing over his shoulder.
‘Run now or I swear by Aroaril I will part your head from your shoulders,’ she told him, fury in every word.
The young noble’s friends needed no second invitation and raced away. Left alone, the noble stood his ground for a moment more but when Asami brought a stream of flying insects out of the nearby trees, he dropped his sword and sprinted for his life. Asami let the insects go.
So close! Oroku would have told her everything! She wanted to hit something. Now she had to go back to waiting at home and hoping Retsu might be able to find out why Sumiko was sending her deputy to talk to the Forlish king.
7
My father was a powerful man. He set down the rules that I should live my life by. At first I was happy to obey but, slowly, I began to wonder if he really knew everything.
‘How does the training of the Magic-weavers go?’ Huw asked.
Rhiannon started guiltily. She had been showing Bevan how to work magic on old, dead wood, bringing it back to life, so that you could affect items like furniture — or bows and shields. He had picked it up quickly. Too quickly, because he had been laughing and joking and was now holding her hand.
‘Very well,’ she said hastily, feeling her face flush a little. She carefully pulled her hand back from Bevan’s grasp.
Huw looked from one to the other and Rhiannon fought to keep her expression light and innocent.
‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you need to work with some of the others as well.’
‘Don’t worry, I spread my time around them all,’ Rhiannon said.
‘As long as that is all that is being spread,’ Huw muttered.
Rhiannon took a few moments to realise what he was saying, then her guilt flipped over into anger.
‘How could you say such a thing?’ she snarled at him. ‘Get out of here before I do something I regret!’
Huw stiffened, the colour draining out of his face. ‘I am sorry. I did not mean anything by it —’
‘Yes, you did, or you would not have said it!’ she shouted. ‘Get out of my sight!’
She glared at him and he turned on his heel and walked away, his back stiff with hurt.
‘Rhiannon, I did not mean …’ Bevan began awkwardly and she turned on him.
‘Don’t apologise! I will make my own path and my own decisions. Nobody will ever make them for me again,’ she swore. ‘Now give me your hand and we shall try some magic that really challenges you. How about we send some birds south to see what we can find?’
‘What do you want with us? Do you intend to torture us more?’ Daizuke asked angrily.
‘You have killed our father and stolen our home, which you have filled with your Magic-weavers, not caring whether they are noble-born or esemono. What else can you do to us?’
Sumiko gave the sons and relatives of the former Elder Elf, Daichi, her warmest smile. She had invited them to Daichi’s old home and shown them to his old office, where she received them like the lord she now was. ‘You mistake me for an enemy when really I am your friend. After all, my clan name is Kaneoki, the same as yours, and I have no wish to see a Tadayoshi elf sit in the chair of the Elder Elf, where only Kaneoki elves have sat for three centuries.’
That silenced them and she could see the interest on their faces.
‘Go on,’ Daizuke said guardedly.
‘I fear Lord Jaken is trying to be too clever. We should simply march out and crush the gaijin.’
‘And what if things do go wrong?’
‘I would expect you still have much influence with the remaining clan leaders who supported your father.’
‘That is true,’ Daizuke admitted. ‘Although Jaken has tried to put elves who owe him a debt in charge of the clans.’
‘Perhaps you should prepare for Jaken’s expedition to go horribly wrong. If that was the case, then the Council needs to hold him to account.’
‘What game are you playing?’ Daizuke asked suspiciously.
Sumiko spread her hands wide. ‘I merely seek to restore clan Kaneoki to the rule of Dokuzen.’
Daizuke looked around at his brethren and received nods in return.
‘Then we have a common purpose.’
She smiled to herself. They arrogantly assumed she meant Daizuke when she tal
ked about a Kaneoki elf ruling. Of course she meant herself. Even after what had happened to them, Daichi’s family could not imagine someone from anything other than a noble family, let alone a Magic-weaver, wanting to rise to the top. But they would have their uses when she destroyed Jaken.
Rhiannon desperately wanted to talk to Asami. They had found a score of Velsh men and women with magical abilities now, with the word spreading far and wide across the country. Her first students, led by Cedrik and Bevan, were opening oaken gateways to bring them to her. Each new one was a huge thrill — and a fear. Soon they would have to face Sumiko and her elven Magic-weavers. Time was running out and she was scared they were not going to be ready. Was she pushing them too fast — was she not pushing them fast enough? All seemed to be developing at different rates, completely unrelated to when she found them and began training them. Asami had gone through something similar when she had been head of the Magic-weavers. She would know what to do.
Yet Rhiannon could not speak to Asami. After what had happened at Dokuzen, she could not even bring herself to send a message to her former elven friend. She got close, writing one out, but then threw it on the fire. She wanted to speak to Asami about Bevan and Huw. Bevan was making no secret of his attraction to her; every opportunity he had, he was making a flower bloom for her, or carving a small heart into living wood, or similar. He had not tried to kiss her again, instead waiting for her to make the first move. But she was very aware of how close he came every time she taught him a new way to use the magic.
On the other hand, Huw was glowering at Bevan when he saw him and turning puppy dog eyes on her every time they crossed paths. He said nothing about their argument but she could read his unspoken appeal in his every move.
She thought she wanted Huw, but every time she caught Bevan staring devotedly at her she found herself wondering. If only she and Asami were talking, she could work through it.
Sendatsu was not much help, with either problem.
‘Don’t ask me for advice. I managed to ruin everything with Asami,’ he told her darkly. ‘And as for magic, I can help you find them, but there’s little point in me training them. I showed you all the exercises I know and that’s very little. It’d be like having a sheep teach a cow how to milk itself.’
‘I can always rely on you to come up with something that makes no sense at all,’ she told him. ‘Anyway, can’t you at least watch, see what I am doing wrong?’
Sendatsu smiled then. ‘I wouldn’t know, because you are so far above me now in magic. I would be of little use — and I need to go where I am needed.’
‘Such as?’
‘Teaching these Velsh to stay alive past Midwinter. If we can get to there, then the weather becomes our friend and even my father will have to pull back to Dokuzen.’
Her face fell and he reached out to take her hand.
‘Rhiannon, you don’t need me. You don’t need anyone. You can do this by yourself.’
She wished that was true. She would make these Velshmen and women the best Magic-weavers she could, and go from there. As for Huw and Bevan — well, she’d wait and see.
Gaibun looked over the assembled clans and felt a surge of pride. Even though he knew they were going to march out to crush the Velsh and kill many of the dragons he had trained, it was still a stirring sight. He wanted to be marching south to punish the Forlish. But Lord Jaken had decreed the Velsh were the bigger threat and everyone trusted him. Now was not the time to be the lone voice of dissent.
He had command of the Border Patrol, which was a mixture of all twelve clans and included the best warriors; the other twelve companies consisted of the individual clans. All seemed excited at the thought of marching into the human world and bringing it under their rule.
‘We march west to watch the Forlish and Velsh fight, then we rush in to destroy the winner, betraying them both. It is dishonourable. Just the sort of thing I would expect from Jaken,’ Retsu murmured.
‘But is it really Jaken’s plan? All know he speaks to Sumiko each day and listens to her every Council meeting,’ Gaibun pointed out.
‘Best not to say that out aloud, my son,’ Retsu advised.
‘So what do we do?’
‘Keep out of trouble and obey any order that Jaken gives you. I shall stay here to keep an eye on the remaining Council members, as well as lead the old men and boys Jaken has left behind, just in case the Forlish decide to betray us first and attack Dokuzen again. I can’t watch out for you, so you must step carefully. Do not do anything foolish.’
Gaibun smiled. ‘When have you known me to do anything foolish?’
‘We do not have enough time to go through them all,’ Retsu pointed out, then embraced his son. ‘Now is the time to keep your wits about you. Take care, my son, and make sure you return. The humans will not be defeated easily. And there is no honour to be won here.’
‘Can you watch Asami for me?’
‘I will protect her with my life.’
Jaken nodded to Sumiko, who pointed at him, giving his voice magical strength, so it carried right across the park, silencing the noise of families farewelling the warriors.
‘People of Dokuzen, today we take back what is rightfully ours! The humans attacked us not once, but twice. Now we go beyond the barrier, to teach them a lesson they will never forget. We shall crush both the vicious Forlish and the traitorous Velsh and make Dokuzen safe for our children.’
His voice carried easily, as did the cheers that greeted his words.
‘The gaijin will never threaten us again. My promise to you is Dokuzen will always be safe. Never again will we wake in the night, trembling with fear of the hordes outside our borders. Instead we shall take the riches they have stolen and make them ours. This army will bring in a new age of glory for the elven people!’
‘Lord Jaken the gaijin slayer!’ someone shouted and next moment they were all roaring and cheering.
‘Saviour of Dokuzen!’
‘Gaijin slayer!’
Sumiko watched the exultation on Jaken’s face and kept her joy off her own. His words were perfect. All would remember what he had said, and when Ward’s Forlish arrived in the heart of the city to burn and kill and kidnap, the people would turn on Jaken as powerfully as they loved him now.
‘We are ready to march,’ Jaken said softly and she turned to him with a broad smile.
‘Our victory will be glorious and all Dokuzen will celebrate when we return,’ she told him.
He smiled thinly. ‘On that matter — I heard reports you had late-night visitors at your villa: Daichi’s son Daizuke, as well as several of his cousins and friends. When were you planning to tell me about that?’
Sumiko hid her surprise with the ease of long practice. She had been sure her Magic-weavers had covered the visit of the remaining senior clan Kaneoki elves — obviously not well enough. She would have to speak to them about that later.
‘Tonight, my lord.’ She bowed her head slightly. ‘I judged you were too busy with the preparations for the march to hear about such unimportant matters.’
‘I think I am the best judge of what is important or not. And having Daichi’s brood plot against me falls into that camp,’ he said.
‘Of course — if they were plotting with any skill. But they approached me with all the subtlety of a starving esemono faced with a free bowl of rice. They wanted my help to seize back control — they do not have the first idea about how to do it. Nor do they realise the love the people have for you now. Half of their own clan would rather see you as Elder Elf than one of them. It would take something extraordinary to change that feeling among the people. Naturally, I said I would be delighted to help them and promised to talk to them again when we return from our campaign to destroy the humans. If they had anything intelligent to say, I would have brought it to you immediately. Instead I was planning to speak to you tonight, to see what trap you wanted me to bait for them. Afterwards, of course.’
‘After what?’ he asked susp
iciously.
In reply, she sent a tendril of magic shooting through his lower body, making him stir. He adjusted his hakama.
Grinning at her, he took a step closer. ‘Come to my tent once we have set up camp on the edge of the forest,’ he whispered. ‘We can talk properly then.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ She bowed her head, taking solace in the thought her revenge would be worth what she had to go through now. He was a dangerous opponent but she had found and exploited his weakness ruthlessly, ignoring the personal sacrifice it meant.
When she went to his tent tonight she would be comforted by the thought Oroku would not be marching west but was even now meeting with the Forlish king and his men.
Sendatsu had to bite his lip to keep from swearing as he entered the meeting hall. Did Huw and Rhiannon have any idea of how much work was needed with the new recruits? Huw’s decision to call on all Velshmen to come forwards and take up arms against the elves might have filled ranks but caused more problems than they solved. The dragons they had trained before had been young and keen, easy to mould and inspire. Stubborn, reluctant and afraid, the newly recruited older men needed twice as much work for half the result.
‘What is it?’ he demanded, as soon as he walked in.
‘We have a new problem,’ Rhiannon told him.
He looked at her and Huw, and their grim faces. There was something strange in their body language, a distance between them. But he was more concerned with how Bevan, Cedrik and six of the most talented Magic-weavers they had found so far were sitting with birds on their shoulders and looking unhappy.
‘What’s the matter? Can’t stop the birds shitting on you?’ he demanded.
‘The Forlish are marching north again,’ Huw said stiffly.
Sendatsu stared at him until his mind caught up. ‘What? How many? How?’ he spluttered.
‘I was teaching them how to send birds to see far into the distance. When one came back with the news of an army marching north, I did not believe it. When they all came back with the same story, I had to believe it.’ Rhiannon pushed the makeshift map at him, the one they had pored over so many times before, when the Forlish had marched north for the first time.