by Duncan Lay
Huw looked up at the sky, where the sun was sinking below the horizon. ‘Assuming Rhiannon and the others have managed to turn back the elven pursuit and aren’t even now lying massacred in a field somewhere.’
‘They are safe,’ Asami said confidently. ‘And they have given the Forlish the victory they need to get them ready for tomorrow.’
‘How do you know that?’ Edmund asked.
‘Magic. How else?’
Sendatsu found himself thinking of his children, once again. If today had been a desperate fight, then tomorrow promised to be even worse. Thinking of them was hard, not just because they were so far away and he wanted to be with them, but because he knew he had to focus everything on somehow defeating Sumiko. Thoughts of Mai and Cheijun, no matter how much they warmed his heart, only distracted his head.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked Asami, to take his mind off everything else.
‘I don’t have much left,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll be able to help you and Huw speak to the slaves but then I’ll need to rest, and try to eat. You might need to use Cedrik over there.’ She pointed to the Velsh Magic-weaver, Rhiannon’s best student since the death of Bevan, who had ridden silently with them.
‘I am sorry I had to bring you like this …’
‘No need to be. I know you wanted me here so I wouldn’t exhaust myself helping Rhiannon bring the Velsh through an oaken gateway.’
Sendatsu smiled. ‘Are my motives so obvious?’
‘Usually.’ Asami smiled back. ‘You are an easy man to predict most of the time.’
‘I will try to surprise you more,’ he said lightly.
She reached out and took his hand. ‘You already have. Sometimes I barely recognise the old Sendatsu.’
‘I hope I have kept the best part, while losing the part of me that ever gave you up,’ he said gently.
‘Do we really have time for this?’ Huw asked them irritably.
‘I seem to remember you chiding me for interrupting you and Rhiannon with the news we could all be killed at any moment,’ Sendatsu pointed out.
‘I learned that you need to make the most out of what time you have. After all, we may not have any more time left.’ Asami shrugged.
‘So you are really confident of winning tomorrow then?’ Huw winked.
‘Surprisingly, yes,’ Sendatsu replied, looking back over to where Uthelred was returning with a band of disgruntled-looking men. ‘And now I think our town criers are here.’
Rhiannon remembered vividly the reaction of the Forlish the last time she had brought Velsh warriors through into the south: they had just about drawn weapons and attacked — and that was with barely fifty dragons. Now she and the Velsh Magic-weavers were bringing through hundreds, every dragon they could find. She had worried something would be said, or some fool would draw a weapon. After all, these dragons had joined up to fight the Forlish because their families and friends had been killed by raiders.
Yet the Forlish were welcoming them.
Velsh dragons were greeted by Wulf and his officers, although Mildrith merely glowered in the background. Hot food was pressed into their hands and they were shown to a campsite where firepits and latrines had already been dug.
Rhiannon had little energy to spare, straining herself to keep the oaken gateway open, helped by a succession of her students, but she had enough to marvel at the change. Nothing like a brutal defeat and desperate escape to make you glad of allies, she reflected.
‘That’s the last of us,’ Arval said, tapping her on the shoulder. She let the gateway fall with a sigh of relief at the young dragon officer’s words.
‘Here, get some food into you. You’ll need it tomorrow.’ Cadel offered her what looked like a lamb shank. Her body was screaming out for food, so she ripped into it with her teeth.
‘Sendatsu has a plan for tomorrow,’ she said through a mouthful.
‘Can’t wait,’ Arval said.
‘Thank you for coming to our aid, after all we have done to your country,’ Wulf said, striding over and shaking hands with any Velsh he could find, leaving them more than a little bemused. ‘I know we are in for the fight of our lives and know what you have risked.’
‘It’s nothing strange for us,’ Arval said. ‘To me it looks like we’re back to our usual situation — outnumbered and sure to lose. By now we’re used to it.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ Wulf said with a smile. ‘We need a little of that spirit.’
‘Need more men even more,’ Arval pointed out.
‘That is up to Lord Sendatsu and Lord Huw.’
Despite his age, or perhaps because of it, Uthelred proved to be up to every task they had set him. Older, more experienced officers might have questioned some of their orders and wasted time, Sendatsu reflected; Uthelred just got working. Merchants were woken and carts taken to the armoury, loaded with weapons and black tunics and sent north, rumbling out in a solid stream until the shelves were stripped of everything useful.
The town criers had walked around the town, demanding all male slaves come to the market square by the gate. Not that they had to go far; the slaves were all kept in the poorest quarter, expected to rise before dawn and be at their place of work or face a beating. And come they did, in a trickle then a flood, until they filled the square, standing shoulder to shoulder, surrounded by torches, watching the small group on horseback with a mixture of suspicion and hostility. It was hard to see more, because of the darkness, although the houses surrounding the square had all opened their top windows to see what was going on, and light from lanterns and fires spilled out across the square, casting shadows in crazy directions.
Sendatsu pulled Uthelred aside and gave him a few quiet suggestions, watching with mingled hope and tension as the officer ran off to follow them.
‘I think that’s most of them. And we are running out of time now,’ Edmund said.
‘Then we begin. Edmund, I need you to tell them Ward is dead — and be prepared for them to cheer. Then introduce me and I shall tell them of the threat that is coming for them, and introduce Huw, who will convince them to fight. Then Edmund, you set them free. Let them go where they will.’
‘We might only get a handful to stay. We might get none. What happens to your plan then?’ Edmund hissed.
‘Huw has to be convincing. That’s all there is to it.’
‘Ready?’ Asami asked. She had eaten little, picking at the bread, cheese and fruit that Uthelred had brought them, turning up her nose at the roasted meat. Sendatsu worried about her — but not as much as he worried about what Huw could say to convince these beaten slaves to stand with the Forlish who had destroyed their towns, killed their families and subjected them to a life of brutality. Most only wore simple cotton tunics and trews, some only loincloths, the evidence of their cruel treatment stretching across scarred skin. Yet they had been soldiers once and could be so again.
‘I am Captain Edmund!’ Edmund boomed, his voice reaching not just the furthest corners of the square but further still, to where the last few slaves were walking in.
‘King Ward is dead!’
There was a rustle of delight from the slaves, especially those in shadow, while gasps came from the Forlish in the houses above.
‘I will not defend my king to you. Not after what he did to your countries, your families and yourselves. But I ask for your help. Not to save Forland but to save your own people.’
Edmund had to stop speaking then, as the slaves’ whispers of disbelief rose to a shout.
‘This is Lord Sendatsu, the rightful Elder Elf of Dokuzen.’
All attention instantly snapped back at those words, Sendatsu saw. He eased his horse into the torchlight, enough so they could see his skin colour was different, as were his eyes and ears.
‘I am Tadayoshi Moratsune Sendatsu. My father was Elder Elf until he was killed by another elf called Sumiko. She is marching here, to kill or enslave every human she can find. And it gets worse. We are not really elves. That is a lie.
We are just like you. The elves stole the magic from you all hundreds of years ago and forced you to live in filth. You might think that is no worse than what Ward put you through. You might think this has nothing to do with you. But it does. We are in a war between truth and lies, between magic and misery, between elf and human. And you are going to have to take a side or what the Forlish did to you, your families and your country will seem like nothing. Here is Lord Huw, the ruler of the free people of Vales, far to the north.’
Sendatsu stared around the square. It was hard to see all the faces. Thanks to the torches and firelight, all he got was shifting shapes. But the ones closest to him seemed intrigued, at least. He glanced to his left and saw Huw’s nervousness, the fear that the former bard buried beneath a big smile as he urged his horse forwards.
‘My name is Huw and this time last year I was the son of a farmer, at a small village just like the ones many of you came from. But then the Forlish came, and everything changed.’
Sendatsu looked out at the crowd, his heart hammering. If this failed, he did not know what to do.
‘They burned villages, they killed animals, children and women. They murdered my father!’
Huw’s words rose to a shout, unnecessary because of the magic Asami was using to help him but it was not for volume, it was for effect. All could hear the pain in Huw’s voice.
‘I was not skilled with the sword. I still have no ability with it. But I met Sendatsu, who helped my people unite, and we destroyed the raiders King Ward had sent into our country to burn and kill and terrify, hoping we would beg to be part of Forland. I cheered today when his head was hacked off and shoved on a spear!’
Sendatsu felt a kick at his leg and turned to see Edmund looking alarmed, his eyes wide, indicating the crowd, which was now beginning to cheer Ward’s death. Sendatsu glanced over at Huw, who was lost in his words. Sendatsu waved Edmund down. Whatever Huw was doing, it was working.
Huw gazed out at the crowd, letting them savour the thought of Ward’s death, as he had. Sendatsu was right to suspect he had held the Velsh Magic-weavers back and caused Ward’s death. He had and he was not sorry for that. Relying on Ward to stop Sumiko felt wrong. No, this was the right way. All humans standing together, showing the elves that they were not barbarians, but equals. This was the right way to defeat Sumiko. All he had to do was convince these men, who had even more reason to hate Forland than he did, to fight. Not to fight for Forland but for themselves, their countries and any family they still had left.
As always, when he began performing and the crowd began reacting, the nerves went away. At the back of his mind, he marvelled that he was using all his skills here, in Ward’s capital, to change the world — just as he had dreamed of for years while he pretended to herd sheep. It was not quite in the way he imagined. It was better.
‘I hate Ward and all he stood for!’ he roared, and they all roared back at him. ‘I wish he could be brought back to life, so we could kill him again!’
Now they were all cheering him, as much in agreement as the fact they were allowed to.
‘But there is a worse enemy out there.’
That silenced them instantly.
‘I have brought my people south to fight tomorrow. I did not do this because I wanted to help Ward, or protect Forland. For I would be happy to see it burn, and its people dragged off into slavery, given a taste of what they have inflicted on others!’
He could feel their anger at Ward now being joined by a curiosity, and even a touch of fear. Looking out at the faces, he could see they were wondering how bad the elves were.
‘We need your help tomorrow. And I don’t mean the Forlish. I mean the Velsh people as well as your people, your countries. We have a chance tomorrow to turn back the elves. If we can do that, then the whole world will change. You will have magic, you will have your freedom. You have a choice here, today. A choice between hollow revenge and taking a step towards a bright future. You will all walk out of this square. Make no mistake about that. The Forlish will no longer have you as slaves, nor will they attempt to rule your countries. You can step out of the gates of Cridianton and turn right, begin the walk home to what remains of your lives. Before you leave, you will probably get to see Cridianton go up in flames, and that sight may warm you as you head home. But the elves will come for you next and there will be nothing stopping them.
‘Or you can turn left and march with us north, to face the elven army tomorrow. Victory is not guaranteed but, with Sendatsu leading us and all humans fighting together, we shall seize back these lands. It will be a new dawn for all.’
He could see they were uneasy, so he signalled and Cedrik moved forwards. He could not be mistaken for an elf. He was obviously what he was — a middle-aged farmer with a scruffy beard and face and hands toughened by years of battling the weather and the land to feed his family.
‘I am a man, just like you. Until a few moons ago I was just a farmer. But look what I can do now,’ Cedrik said.
Huw watched approvingly as Cedrik gestured extravagantly. He knew the Magic-weaver did not need to do that but sometimes a little show was called for — and this was definitely that time. Shutters swung shut wherever Cedrik pointed, then torches roared higher, the flames leaping ten feet tall.
The slaves jumped back in shock and awe.
‘That is but a taste of what the magic can give you. The power to grow, the power to heal — it can all be yours. But we need your help. I would never expect you to fight for Ward. I could not. But fight for me. Fight for Sendatsu. Fight for your own people!’
Huw looked out over the crowd and knew they were with him — but would they take it that step further? He had nothing left to give, nothing left to say. He glanced back at Sendatsu and Edmund.
Sendatsu immediately stood tall in his stirrups.
‘Three hundred years ago, men and elves had a chance to live together in peace, helping each other. We were all betrayed and the elven leader, whose name was also Sendatsu, was killed by his own kind. With his dying act, he sealed the elves away from the rest of the world, to protect you. Now we have another chance to make it right, make up for three hundred years of pain and misery. I cannot do it without you. I know I have no right to ask, because you have suffered more than men are supposed to. But if you can put aside all the wrongs done to you, we can start making it right.’
Edmund pushed his horse forwards.
‘I was named as King Ward’s heir. You have my promise. We shall never again try to rule another country, nor take slaves. We all lived in peace once. We shall again. I know you hate me, hate Ward, hate the Forlish people. But don’t let your hate blind you to what needs to be done, to change these lands for the better. I set you free, and I wish you well, whatever you choose to do. Many of you will be wondering what happened to your families. I will send proclamations out across the country, announcing that all slaves are to be freed. I hope you will find them again, when you reach your country. But I promise that I will find the families of any who fight for these lands. Any brave enough to do that will return to Cridianton to find their families waiting for them. So there it is. Leave now, and make your choice. We shall wait outside the gate for those with the heart to put aside what was done to you and stand up for all the people of these lands.’
He kept going, followed by the others, and the crowd of slaves parted for them. Huw looked left and right, and was heartened by how many met his eyes. But there were plenty who also spat in front of Edmund’s horse.
One man shouldered aside others to bar the way.
‘Edmund!’ he challenged. ‘I know you! You were the man who sacked Pevensey, sold me and my family into slavery a year ago. Why should I not kill you myself?’
Edmund sat taller in the saddle. ‘You have every right to try. But I am going to fight for you now, to try to save you and your family, as well as every other family from Pevensey. Kill me now and you will only help every man’s enemy. But I give you a promise. I will help rebuild P
evensey, as I shall do with every town we took.’
The man looked up at Edmund warily. ‘I cannot decide if you are a changed man or just a clever liar,’ he said.
‘Fight for Lord Sendatsu and find out,’ Edmund suggested.
By way of answer, the man stepped back into the crowd.
They rode out of the square, through the empty streets and out the open gates, turning left to where Uthelred and a handful of men waited. The slaves were inside the square still.
‘How many do you think will come and fight for us?’ Huw asked.
Edmund sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t think many will come. The ones who were recently made slaves remember being dragged away from home and family. The ones who have been here for years have had more time to grow to hate us. You all spoke well but I would be surprised if we march north with more than a few dozen. Many will want to find their families and even my offer to have them brought here won’t stop that.’
‘You could be surprised,’ Sendatsu said, patting Cedrik on the shoulder.
‘What, are you planning to use magic on them?’ Huw gasped.
Sendatsu smiled. ‘Not exactly. But I suspect they will be hungry. They are slaves, after all.’
‘We don’t starve them. They are valuable. They are fed well so they can keep their strength,’ Edmund said defensively.
‘Not like this.’ Sendatsu pointed to where Cedrik had started a pair of fires, revealing a pair of sheep on spits, now cooking rapidly and giving off the tantalising smell of roasted meat. Thanks to the magic, they were cooking fast, and Cedrik ensured that the delicious steam wafted across the front of the gates.
‘Cunning,’ Edmund commented.
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Sendatsu said cryptically.
The first of the slaves strode out of the gate, turning right and away from where Sendatsu and the others waited. Then the trickle became a flood, men pouring out of the gates. The smell of the roasting sheep made many of them turn — but nobody had taken a step towards them as yet.
‘What did I tell you?’ Edmund said gloomily.