by Duncan Lay
Noriko looked up with a smile. ‘That is what I have been doing. I pretend that none of this is here — the walls, the bars, even the smell and the revolting human food. There is only us and the little world we are creating around us. I cherish every turn of the hourglass we spend together. Each one makes up for all the long years we have been apart.’
‘I agree.’ Retsu kissed her passionately. He hid his fears for the future, even though he knew she was just as aware of them as he.
She broke the kiss. ‘These few hours might be all we ever have. They might even be all we have left. But I don’t care, because I would rather have a day with you than another twenty years as Jaken’s wife.’
‘Then we should make the most of it,’ Retsu agreed. It was madness, it went against all the oaths he had made to his wife, to Jaken and to Aroaril. But he no longer cared.
He picked her up and carried her towards the beds they had pushed together so they could share. Asami had taken the screens and blocked off a small part of the room for herself, where she stayed, out of their sight. Retsu grunted as he remembered they had not seen her since they had been locked in the room. She had been unable to stomach the human food and said she wanted to rest instead.
‘Are you all right? You are not as young as you once were and I am not as light as I once was,’ Noriko said, interrupting his thought.
‘You are as light as a feather and I am as strong as I ever was.’ Retsu smiled, although his back was warning him that was no longer really the case.
He placed her gently on the bed and tried to straighten, to stretch his back, only for Noriko to pull him down on top of her. He forgot all about Asami and worries about his back.
Huw took the donkeys’ halters and led them down a side street.
‘We cannot go up to the front gate of the castle. We need to use the side gate, like all the other nightsoil carts,’ he explained softly.
Being back in the city felt strange indeed. He remembered the way through these streets, although it had been moons since he had walked them. When he and Rhiannon had been performing for King Ward, they had to seek permission from the castellan to go in and out of the front gate and their names would be placed on a sheet of parchment. Given he was not supposed to be seeing Rhiannon, he could not risk that. But his natural curiosity had led him to the servants’ passageways that riddled the castle, allowing servants to move food and firewood, nightsoil and dirty clothing through the castle without having to take it past the king and his courtiers. Exploring those had led him to the nightsoil gate, which was watched only by a pair of bored guards, who liked to stay as far away from the smell as possible. He had slipped out of the castle that way a dozen times with Rhiannon in the moons they had been there — the last time when they had fled the castle from Hector’s revolting plan to sell Rhiannon into King Ward’s bed. He had never thought he would need that knowledge again but going in through the front gate would be a death sentence. On edge because of the prisoners they protected, the gate was manned by a score of soldiers, with a company more just a shout away. Not even the combined talents of Sendatsu, Gaibun and Rhiannon would be able to get them past that.
‘Here we are.’ He pointed and smiled as he saw the nightsoil gate was as sleepy as always.
The closer to the castle your house was, the more important you were to the king. But that did not apply on this side, where carts rumbled in and out of the castle at all hours. These were houses belonging to merchants rich enough to want to be close to the king but who were not nobly born, so were kept to this area. Most of the owners were in the lower town, earning more gold, and the streets were quiet. As usual, only a pair of guards watched the nightsoil gate, which was only big enough to fit a team of donkeys, not horses or oxen.
‘You’re early,’ one guard remarked as they walked up, Huw deliberately slowing the pace to what he remembered.
‘Well, you know the shit never stops around here,’ Huw called back, forcing his voice into a Forlish accent. Doing so was an unpleasant reminder of what he had done the first time he had been here, when he had pretended to be Hugh of Browns Brook, a Forlishman seeking his fortune at the court of King Ward. The way he had betrayed his own Velshness and every principle his father had held dear made him sick to the stomach now, although back then he had thought it fair enough to do whatever was necessary to make his dream of being a bard come true.
‘That’s the truth.’ The guard chuckled, and stood aside to let them through.
Huw led the nightsoil cart around the corner, out of sight of the gate, behind a huge, stinking mound. He helped Mai and Cheijun out of the back of the cart.
‘We have to work quickly. If we’re not out of here in a turn of the hourglass, they’ll want to know why.’
‘Where to?’ Sendatsu asked.
‘Follow me, but stay close. If we see any servants, they’ll wonder what we are doing and we’ll need Mai and Cheijun to keep them off balance. Come on.’ Huw pushed open a stained wooden door and beckoned the others inside.
The elven army was gathered in a small Velsh valley. Word of what had happened back in Dokuzen, the attack on the city, the destruction of the Council Chamber and the capture of the Council had spread like wildfire through the ranks. Many elves knew those who had died, or had been wounded or taken in the attack, and their mood was ugly. The story had first been spread by word of mouth but, at Sumiko’s suggestion, Jaken had brought along extra warriors: two thousand elfmaids from the last few classes to pass their Tests, the best of their generation, to add even more strength to the already powerful force they had gathered. And they brought with them first-hand tales of the gaijin attack.
‘My brothers and sisters, we need to show the gaijin our power. It is time to take control of these lands,’ Jaken began, Sumiko using her magic to ensure his voice was projected out across the valley.
A growl of agreement greeted his words.
‘We must show these gaijin we are to be feared. Never again will they dare to approach our sacred city, for they will be our slaves within the next moon. We shall march on Forland and destroy it, then come back and stamp out the Velsh — and anybody else who dares to challenge our rule!’
This brought a hoarse cheer from the assembled elves and Jaken raised his fist in the air.
‘And what of the prisoners the gaijin took?’ someone shouted from back in the ranks.
Sumiko hid her smile at that, because she had arranged it.
‘We do not bargain with gaijin. We shall kill them and keep killing them until they give back the prisoners they took,’ Jaken announced.
‘And what if they kill them? They took our clan leader!’
‘We are humiliated by the gaijin!’ another cried.
Jaken glared out over the massed ranks but he could not see who was shouting. It was obviously not anyone from his clan, for they stood in one silent block but he was painfully aware clan Tadayoshi had only ever had four other clans to support it and, without the glow of being Dokuzen’s saviour, that support from the other clans was as thin as the ice across Dokuzen’s lake in spring.
‘I promised I would make Dokuzen safe and I always keep my promises!’ he roared.
This time there was no cheer, only angry mumbling.
‘So how did the gaijin attack us? What is to stop them attacking Dokuzen while we are away? We could return from this to find our homes ablaze and our families dead!’
‘That will not happen!’ Jaken shouted.
But the mood of the crowd had turned on him.
Sumiko stepped forwards, removing the magic from Jaken’s voice and adding it to her own.
‘Dokuzen will be safe because the Magic-weavers promise it!’ she shouted over the noise of the crowd, her voice silencing them instantly. ‘The Magic-weavers saved Dokuzen when Daichi let the gaijin march up to our front door. The Magic-weavers will keep Dokuzen safe while we make the humans pay for what they did. Your families and homes will be guarded by the magic of my people!’
The jeers turned to cheers instantly and Sumiko basked in their approval.
‘You can trust me. I was the one who showed that the humans have magic and I will be the one to take it away from them and give it back to those who rightfully own it — the elven people!’
Now even clan Tadayoshi were cheering her and she waved to the crowd.
‘I will protect you. Put your trust in me and I shall lead you to a new golden age!’
She glanced to her left and enjoyed watching Jaken’s furious face. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it.
‘Lord Jaken will be our warleader. Follow his orders and we shall return from the human lands victorious!’
She stepped back, holding up Jaken’s arm, and this time they acknowledged him.
‘Begin the march south. We shall not stop until Forland is a smoking ruin,’ Jaken said and they began streaming away, shaking themselves into clan blocks for the march south.
‘What are you doing?’ Jaken asked as the warriors filed past.
‘Saving you. Actually, saving all of us. The people were turning on you. We need them to follow your orders if we are to win this. But they have to know their families and homes will be safe behind them,’ she said mildly.
‘It feels like you are acting like my equal, rather than working for me,’ Jaken observed sourly.
‘I give you my word that we will not seem like equals for much longer,’ she said brightly.
‘Good.’
‘Now we should call in the new clan leaders. We need to be able to have them obey orders instantly, without question. They have to do whatever the Elder Elf says, if we are to defeat the gaijin.’
‘That is true. We must fight as one people, not twelve separate clans.’
Sumiko let him get a pace ahead of her before she allowed a little smile to play across her lips. It was an indulgence but she felt she had earned it. Jaken’s humiliation was only beginning.
Sendatsu could feel the tension as he hurried along the dark passageway. These servant paths were not well lit, for which he was grateful, but that worked two ways. He could bump into anyone, at any time, and his hands were being used to hold Mai’s and Cheijun’s. Getting out a sword would be difficult and it only took one shout to bring scores of guards down on them. Even Rhiannon’s magic could not get them out of that.
‘Take the left passage,’ Huw hissed and he obeyed, walking as fast as Cheijun would let him go.
This led to another branch and Huw hesitated, making Sendatsu fidget with impatience.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the way,’ he growled.
‘I never knew the way to Mildrith’s chambers. It was not like I ever went there,’ Huw replied. ‘Having you annoy me is not helping my memory, either.’
Sendatsu heard footfalls coming from the passageway to their right and held up his hand, tearing it free of Mai’s grasp. He held his finger to his lips and then, holding his children’s hands, walked boldly towards the noise. Now they had come across someone, rather than waiting for something to happen, he found his nerves were gone.
‘Hello!’ he said, trying to make his voice sound like the accents he had heard Huw using and thankful for the scarf that hid his face.
‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’
The voice formed into a figure appearing out of the darkness, a young man carrying a large bundle of dirty clothes strapped to his back. He looked to be no older than fifteen summers and his face had a drawn, pinched look about it, while his eyes flickered from side to side, reminding Sendatsu of a dog that had been beaten too much. His accent was also different from the Forlish ones they had heard, deeper and more guttural.
‘You sound strange,’ he accused.
‘So do you,’ Sendatsu replied, thinking he should be able to quieten him if it came to that.
‘We are from the north,’ Mai said. ‘We all sound like this up there. You sound funny. Where are you from?’
The servant grunted. ‘Landia. I was taken a year ago by the Forlish and sold as a slave.’
‘What’s a slave?’ Cheijun asked.
‘You don’t want to know,’ he said, glancing back up the corridor from where he had come. ‘You look like a nightsoil carrier. You should be outside.’
‘Too much poo out there,’ Cheijun said, while Sendatsu was trying to think what to say.
The young servant stared at Cheijun, whose face was hidden behind a scarf, then burst into laughter. ‘That’s what I always think!’
‘I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?’ Mai asked the young servant.
‘If you are lucky. The kitchens might have some scraps. I was heading there myself after this.’
Sendatsu sagged a little with relief. ‘I was hoping to find a crust or something for the children. Is this the way to the kitchens?’
‘No! You are completely lost. If you keep going up this passageway, you’ll end up in the royal wing. The king’s not there of course, but the queen is. If you walk into her rooms, you’re as good as dead. You need to turn around and take the second left, then follow that all the way down.’
‘Thank you,’ Sendatsu said fervently.
The servant kept going and they pretended to turn back, only to wait until the darkness had swallowed him up before continuing the way they had been going.
‘That was well done,’ Huw whispered.
‘Mai and Cheijun did all the work. They were the ones who calmed him down.’ Sendatsu grinned. ‘I was thinking of hitting him and running!’
The passage grew lighter, with small glass lamps holding lit candles outside three wooden doors set into the wall.
‘So, which one is the queen’s?’ Sendatsu asked.
‘Each door has a letter carved into it — U, M and W. So it has to be M for Mildrith. The others will belong to her sons. You don’t want to get too close to them. I once tried a riddle on the younger one, Uffa, and it nearly ended up with me being flogged. He didn’t understand it and hated being made to look foolish.’ Huw patted the door in the centre.
‘Let’s get this over with then.’ Sendatsu reached over and opened the door, stepping through before the others could stop him.
The new clan leaders had been found hurriedly. In some cases, where the clan’s leader had been killed during Jaken’s rise to power, this was the third in line. Unlike last time, Jaken had not been able to find elves beholden to him. The list of those who owed him favours in the clans formerly loyal to Daichi had been thin indeed and many of those sitting in the tent were staring at him suspiciously. He realised his position hung by a thread, impossible as it seemed. Just a quarter-moon ago, the people had been falling at his feet, hailing him as their saviour. But the Forlish raid, while killing less than fifty elves, had damaged him in the people’s eyes. He was still confident he could bring them back. After all, once the Forlish were destroyed and the elves the masters of these lands, there would be no danger, only slaves and riches. For now, however, he had to lean on Sumiko, much as he hated to hand over any power to anyone.
‘We have to work together, instantly. If one clan breaks ranks, or fails to follow orders, we risk everything,’ he told them.
While at least half of them clearly did not like him, they all nodded agreement.
‘While they cannot beat us, they can hurt us. As our battle with them outside Dokuzen showed, they are trained and well armed and armoured. We shall not underestimate them. We must use our magic to communicate orders instantly. That way we can take advantage of any weakness or opening in the human ranks. Sumiko will have birds flying high above the gaijin, able to see what they are doing. With this knowledge we can defeat them with greater ease.’
Again, they all nodded agreement.
‘Each of you will have a Magic-weaver by your side from now on. Lord Jaken will send his orders to me and I will send them to you. They need to be obeyed instantly,’ Sumiko said. ‘You must do what the Magic-weavers say, or elves will die.’ She looked around the tent and
all nodded back, once more.
‘Anyone who fails to do this will pay with his life,’ Jaken said harshly. Now was the time to emphasise his mastery over them. ‘Is this understood?’
‘Of course, Lord Jaken,’ the new lord of Tadayoshi said instantly, followed by the rest of them.
Jaken dismissed them and Sumiko signalled to her waiting Magic-weavers, who paired up with each lord as they made their way back to their clans.
‘This will work well,’ Jaken said with satisfaction. ‘When we meet the Forlish, it will be as if the twelve clans are acting as an extension of my arm. Orders will flow like lightning from me down to the lowest warrior. The elves will fight as one, under my orders.’
‘No,’ Sumiko said.
Jaken turned, surprised. ‘But this was your idea! You are saying now it will not work?’
Sumiko’s face twisted into a wide smile, one that he had not seen before.
‘No, I am saying it will work perfectly, but I shall be the one giving the orders.’
Jaken stared at her for a long moment. He heard the words but it was as if his brain refused to understand them. ‘What do you mean? Is this some kind of jest?’
‘There is nothing to laugh about,’ Sumiko said coldly. ‘You are no longer ruling the elves — I am. I will send out the orders, my Magic-weavers will pass them on to the clan leaders and they will be obeyed, instantly. This will work so well that it will continue, long after the battle is over.’
‘Have you gone mad? The people will never accept being ruled by a Magic-weaver!’
‘The people will love me, because I shall keep them safe. And when I return triumphant, having destroyed the humans, they will never challenge me,’ she said.
‘I have heard enough!’ Jaken’s anger exploded and he went for his sword — except a blast of magic flickered out and his sword was instantly locked into its scabbard, the metal swelling until it could not be drawn.
‘Guards! Guards!’ Jaken cried angrily.
But nobody came in. He rushed to the front of the tent, at any moment expecting Sumiko’s magic to knock him over, except nothing happened. He opened the tent flap — to see a different group standing guard around his tent. Every one of them was a Magic-weaver.