by Duncan Lay
Retsu pounced. ‘So you know about the Forlish being brought here?’ He had let others take the lead in the questioning, because there was something about Jimai’s voice that was making him uneasy. If only he wasn’t so tired, he might be able to follow that thread and come up with an answer.
‘I never said anything!’ Jimai protested.
‘It’s all right. We know all about what Oroku was doing. We have the area surrounded by Council Guards. When the Forlish come through, they will receive a gift of arrows and swords,’ Asami assured him.
‘You know?’
‘I captured Oroku yesterday, after he left Sumiko’s home. Although he escaped to the Forlish, he told me everything,’ Asami lied confidently.
‘Everything?’
‘Jimai, you know magic better than almost anyone here. You know that I am the only one who can stop Sumiko. Her trick with the Forlish has failed and this is your chance to change sides and be with the winners. Speak now and we can help you. Stay silent and you will share her punishment.’
Jimai hung his head. ‘I never wanted to see it come to this. I only ever wanted the Magic-weavers to be returned to honour.’
Retsu sprang to his feet. ‘You tried to warn me about this — in the archive room below our feet! You used magic to ask me to help you!’ he accused, finally placing the voice he had heard echoing around the stone chamber downstairs.
Tears were now running down Jimai’s face. ‘You have to protect me!’ he said hoarsely.
‘You can trust us. Now tell us the truth,’ Retsu pushed.
And so the story came out, slowly at first but then faster and faster, spilling from his lips. The clan leaders stared at each other in shock and horror as Jimai explained how they had planned to bring Forlish warriors into the city to ruin Jaken, prove that humans had magic and make Sumiko the only alternative for Elder Elf.
‘We would have all turned to her as well. The thought of gaijin running through our streets is what gives every child nightmares,’ Ichiro said soberly.
‘So we shall send a message to Lord Jaken?’ Asami prompted.
‘We shall all travel to see Lord Jaken,’ Ichiro corrected gently. ‘This is too important to entrust to a message. The very survival of Dokuzen is at stake. Lord Jaken needs to hear Jimai’s words and see some of the Forlish that our guards must capture.’
‘What should we ask Lord Jaken to do?’ Retsu asked, just to get the feel of how strongly the rest of the Council felt.
‘Either he removes Sumiko or we remove him. Asami must become the new leader of the Magic-weavers and if he refuses, then we make you, Lord Retsu, Elder Elf.’
Retsu and Asami exchanged smiles and relieved glances.
‘What about me?’ Jimai asked hoarsely.
‘You shall be well protected from your mistress and rewarded for your loyalty. You will become Asami’s deputy and entrusted with returning the Magic-weavers to honour,’ Ichiro assured him.
‘Thank Aroaril for that.’ Jimai smiled wanly. ‘I have been so afraid these past few moons. I had even begun to think that my sensei was willing to kill me to see her plan come to life.’
‘That will not happen now,’ Asami assured him.
Jimai smiled at her, more broadly this time, then his smile seemed to rapidly stretch and distort as his face twisted and something punched its way out of his forehead, throwing spatters of red and grey at Asami’s eyes. Jimai toppled forwards, allowing all to see what looked like a short, fat arrow sticking out of the back of his head.
For a long moment, all stared at Jimai’s twitching body and the spreading pool of blood coming from his smashed head, then their eyes were dragged unwillingly towards the doors, where a group of strangely tall esemono stood. A heartbeat later the esemono threw aside their cloaks and all became clear.
‘The Forlish!’
There was only a pair of guards standing outside the magnificent wooden doors into the chamber, talking to each other quietly and not paying much attention to what was going on around them.
‘As quietly as you can,’ Edmund ordered.
Caelin led a group of men, including Harald and Ruttyn, forwards, until they were just a few paces away — and still the guards did not react to them. He stepped back a pace, bringing up his crossbow so he could cover either guard if needed but, at that distance, it was almost impossible to miss. The impact of the chunky crossbow bolts, with their wickedly heavy metal heads, was enough to lift the guards off their feet and kill them instantly, no time to cry out.
Other soldiers rushed past them and grabbed the bodies, dragging them inside and leaving only a smear of blood across the stone entranceway.
‘Five men guard the door. We need a safe way out. Make sure none follow us in,’ Edmund ordered. ‘Let’s make this fast.’
They paused for a moment in the outer chamber, even the most hardened warrior unable to stop himself casting an amazed glance at the tall windows, the stunning wall hangings and the polished floor. This was long enough for a well-dressed elf to come bustling out of a side door.
‘The Council is in session and the likes of you are not permitted,’ he told them fussily. ‘Get out, before I call the guards!’
Forlish swords slid from sheaths and one soldier grabbed him by the hair, tilted his head back and sawed his blade across the elf’s throat, choking off any cry, while two more rammed blades into his chest. Blood spurted violently but briefly, then he dropped to the floor. The three soldiers wiped the blood onto their cloaks.
‘In there.’ Oroku pointed to the giant wooden doors.
Edmund signalled and a pair of soldiers grabbed the handles, swinging the doors open a fraction, allowing Edmund, Oroku and Caelin to peer through the gap.
‘The Elven Council is around the table. Those are the hostages you need to take. The ones up in the seating can be killed, then the chamber lit,’ Oroku whispered.
‘Right. Caelin, you take half the men to the right, take care of any elves on that side. I shall take the rest down the left and then we meet in the middle. Use the crossbows on any who try to fight back — or escape out the other end,’ Edmund said hurriedly. ‘Clubs only on the hostages.’
‘Wait!’ Oroku hissed, grabbing Edmund’s arm.
‘What?’
‘The elf speaking to the Council, the one with two guards — he must be killed first.’
‘But I thought you said —’
‘He is the greatest danger. He must die first if we are to succeed here,’ Oroku snarled.
Edmund sighed. ‘Caelin, can you hit him from here?’
In answer, Caelin went down on one knee, and used his left arm to help brace the heavy crossbow on his left knee, snuggling it into his shoulder. The target was only twenty yards away, an easy shot under normal circumstances — but there was nothing normal about this. He let out a breath and sighted on the middle of the elf’s back then, in that pause between breathing out and in, he triggered the crossbow, feeling it thump into his shoulder. For a horrifying moment he thought he had missed, for he felt the crossbow kick up slightly — then saw the blood spatter on the faces of those talking to the elf, who toppled forwards, unmoving.
Edmund clapped Caelin on the shoulder and waved to the rest of the men.
‘Now!’ he snarled and the doors were hauled open, the Forlish flooding in.
Caelin dropped his crossbow, not wanting to waste time reloading, and drew his sword, hurrying across to his right, conscious of Harald and Ruttyn at his shoulders, another dozen men close behind, all of them throwing their cloaks down.
‘Forland!’ Edmund bellowed from the other side. ‘King Ward and Forland!’
The rest of them echoed his shout, cheering themselves and letting the fear and tension out in a hoarse war cry.
The elves seemed paralysed with shock for the first few moments, allowing the Forlish to close the gap, then they woke up and reacted. Some turned to run, others drew swords and raced to fight. There were few elves seated on Caelin’s side
and the nearest pair, both elderly, drew swords and tried to climb over the wooden railing to attack them, faces twisted in anger.
‘Die, gaijin!’ one screamed.
Caelin pointed and crossbows twanged, halting the elderly pair in an instant. Behind them, a handful of others were trying to run away but the crossbows picked them off, one by one. Forlish laughed as the screaming elves were flung backwards by the crossbow bolts.
‘This is going to be easy!’ Harald chuckled, his crossbow unfired.
Caelin ignored them and looked again at the Council, the ones they were trying to take alive.
And realised it was about to get much harder.
Asami wasted precious moments staring at Jimai’s body. Victory had been within their grasp and Sumiko was about to be defeated — then it was all gone. She wasted more time staring at the Forlish in horror. How had they got past the guards in the park? She had been so sure the trap was perfect. How many had Oroku brought through to get them here? Then her tired mind woke up and she realised she had to start fighting.
‘Back! Stay together!’ Retsu drew his sword, followed a heartbeat later by the rest of the Council.
The two Council Guards who had been standing beside Jimai stopped their advance and fell back to where the clan leaders waited behind the giant Council table. Noriko, who was seated just a few feet away from them, rushed to Retsu’s side, her movement hindered by her stiff, formal kimono.
‘But our people in the seats —’ Ichiro began, seeing the Forlish loosing crossbow bolts at the closest elves.
‘Too late for them. We need to think about saving ourselves,’ Retsu said grimly.
‘People will hear and rush to help us, every one of them a match for five gaijin!’ another clan leader declared.
‘I don’t think so,’ Retsu said calmly. ‘Asami — what can you do?’
In reply she reached into the magic and sent a heavy bench skidding across the floor, where it knocked three Forlish crossbowmen off their feet, just as they had been about to trigger their weapons into elves running to join the clan leaders. She took a shuddering breath and fought the need to sit down. She had not felt this weak since the end of the battle for Dokuzen, which was hardly a good omen.
Before she could gather her thoughts and come up with a way to really hurt the Forlish, they had advanced.
‘Back to the pits you crawled out of!’ Ichiro kicked his heavy chair at the first soldier and then swung his sword at the man’s neck as he stumbled. The steel bit home and blood sprayed across the embroidered seat. But the second Forlishman smashed a long club across Ichiro’s head, sending him slumping to the ground.
‘We don’t want to hurt you! Surrender and you will be well treated, back in Forland, until we ransom you back to your families!’ one Forlishman, obviously the leader, shouted.
‘We will never suffer that dishonour,’ Retsu spat.
As soon as he finished speaking, the Forlish rushed in again.
Asami watched as one lowered his crossbow, pointing it at her legs, and she reached into the magic, making the weapon fly apart, the heavy stock smashing back into the soldier’s face.
A club swung for her head but she ducked under it and ripped her sword up, feeling it bite deep and grate on bone. She was rewarded with a bubbling scream as she tore the steel free and reached into the magic again to flip a chair up and into a Forlishman. He went down hard and did not get up.
But Asami had to lean back on the Council table, get her breath back as her vision tilted, and she wished there had been some food she could have grabbed at that moment. To her left she watched dispassionately as a knot of Forlish attacked the two Council Guards. They fought back to back for a moment and even sent one Forlishman reeling out of the fight with a severed hand but there were too many attackers and they were slaughtered. To her right a handful were clustered around Retsu and Noriko. Retsu’s sword wove a deadly pattern of steel, taking a Forlish head. But he could not move on his injured leg and was struck by several clubs, falling to the floor.
Noriko screamed in anger. She ducked under a blow and stepped forwards, slamming her fist into the Forlishman’s throat. As he reeled back, choking, she snatched his club out of his hand and laid about her, blocking and swinging as fast as the blows came back at her. She bloodied a nose, smashed teeth and lips, then swept the club down in a low arc to take out a Forlishman’s legs, tip him up and onto his back. For a moment Asami thought she would drive them all back — then a Forlishman stepped on her flowing kimono and she lost her balance. That was all the Forlish needed and she went down under two blows.
A pair of Forlish came at Asami and she pushed herself off the table. Magic seemed too hard to use right now, so she brought her sword up into the guard position. A club reached for her head but she blocked it easily — then cried out as her wounded arm protested at what she had asked it to do. Gritting her teeth, she swivelled and lunged, ramming the tip of her sword into the soldier’s eye. The second one swung at her and she was forced to jump back and up onto the Council table, trying to roll away from the attack.
All around her, the last clan leaders were going down to blows of clubs, swamped by numbers, while the last living elves, who had been watching from the seats, were taken down by Forlish crossbows. Asami rolled off the other side of the table and realised she was the only elf still on her feet. From somewhere she found the energy to run for the door. If she could get to the park and get the Council Guards, they would have their revenge.
She sensed, rather than saw, crossbow bolts reaching for her legs, but used the magic to send them skidding on the floor instead. Alarmed Forlish shouts told her they thought she was going to escape as well and she used that to spur her along.
Then the door at the far end of the chamber opened and Oroku stood there.
Asami skidded to a stop, staring at the look of triumph on Oroku’s face, disfigured by the insect bites she had inflicted on him yesterday.
‘Farewell,’ he told her.
She drew back her arm, ready to throw her sword at him — then a club struck the back of her head and everything went black.
‘We need to split the Velsh apart, have them fight among themselves,’ Sumiko said gently, running her fingers down Jaken’s cheek.
Sometimes she had to hold back a shudder of revulsion when she did this with him. At those times she pictured her final victory and Jaken’s complete humiliation and then she was able to summon the passion he expected.
Now Jaken lay on his back, eyes half closed and ready to be manipulated once more.
‘Of course. An enemy divided is one that cannot come at you with their full force. What do you have in mind?’
‘A plan within a plan. One they will never suspect.’
Jaken chuckled. ‘That sounds familiar! We used something similar on Daichi.’
‘That we did. You need to send someone you trust — perhaps Asami’s father, Lord Nagata — on a mission to the Velsh.’
‘Why Lord Nagata? I value his advice.’
‘But we need someone we can trust to do this. And you have me to give you advice.’
‘I do.’
‘So send Nagata with a peace treaty, everything they ever wanted. Have Nagata tell them we want an alliance with them against the Forlish once again and invite them to bring their army south, to where King Ward is bringing his army north. If they fall for the trap, they will march into their own destruction. If they reject it outright, they will give us reason to destroy them. If they argue about it, they will be divided and easy to defeat when Ward sends his men north.’
‘Whatever their response, it will be a victory for us,’ Jaken mused. ‘I like it. I’ll speak to Nagata within a turn of the hourglass and get him moving.’
‘I’ll organise a suitable escort for him. A dozen Council Guards should be enough,’ Sumiko purred.
Jaken smiled and nodded, stretching out on the canvas bed.
Sumiko lay back. There was a further aspect to the plan
Jaken did not need to know: Nagata was a voice Jaken trusted and he was about to find out his beloved daughter Asami had been killed; he had to be removed. She would make sure his escort was in her pay. With Nagata gone, his escort’s mission would be to kill Rhiannon and Huw. Sendatsu too, if Gaibun had somehow failed to do the job. If they succeeded, then the Velsh would be left leaderless and helpless. Even if they failed, Nagata would be killed by his escort before they began their attempt on Huw and Rhiannon. That would leave Jaken completely at her mercy — and also furious at the Velsh. Whatever happened, she would win.
14
It is hard to learn your father can make mistakes. I remember it was one of the hardest lessons I went through. Your father tumbles from being a god to being just like you. So I envy you, my son. You will begin by knowing my mistakes and I can only rise, not fall in your eyes.
Sendatsu was torn between relief at the thought Asami had only rejected him to protect him and despair at the thought she was carrying Gaibun’s child and was lost to him. There was no possibility of them travelling across the human lands together; Gaibun would never allow that. He was sleeping in Sendatsu’s bed, recovering from the effects of the magic, and they had not had a chance to talk. Even when they did, Sendatsu could not see a way forwards. His mood was so dark not even Mai and Cheijun’s flow of chatter and nonsense was able to bring a smile to his face.
Huw arrived with Glyn’s widow, Wendi, and her children, who took Mai and Cheijun off to collect eggs from the chickens, a task they both found hilarious.
‘What do you want?’ Sendatsu asked grumpily.
‘Who says I want anything?’ Huw replied.
‘You didn’t go to all this effort to clear away my children so we can sit around and talk about old times.’
‘Last night. What happened? Rhiannon’s sleeping like the dead, so she’s not saying anything.’
Sendatsu explained, tiredly, how they had saved Asami and then nearly been killed by Gaibun.