Wall of Spears (14 page)

‘Something is very wrong here,’ Ruttyn muttered, as each room yielded nothing yet the smell of death grew chokingly thick.

Caelin nodded. Worse, it was hard to keep watching for enemies when everything you saw made you want to gasp, from the richness of the furnishings and the amazing pictures on the wall, to the glorious tiles on the floor. It was literally like stepping into another world. Not even King Ward could live like this.

Then they turned a corner to discover the source of the stench.

‘What happened here?’ Ruttyn choked, as they gazed at the blood spattered across the walls and ceiling, the pools of it across the floor, and the jumble of bodies filling the corridor.

‘The skies above know,’ Caelin said grimly. ‘We have to finish our search first.’

They stepped over and across the bodies.

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was the wife’s mother that did it — talked them to death,’ Harald offered, but nobody was in the mood for a joke.

They followed the trail of death back to the wreckage of the front door, where more bodies waited, but dared go no further.

‘Something is very wrong here. Back to Captain Edmund, fast as we can,’ Caelin ordered.

The other two needed no encouraging and they were swiftly back in the garden, panting, where Edmund stood close to a nervous-looking Oroku.

‘The place is full of bodies. Looks like there was a battle here last night,’ Caelin reported.

‘Do you want to tell us what is going on?’ Edmund asked Oroku.

‘This was to be the meeting place. My enemy who tried to stop me yesterday lives here. My sensei was to send a large party of warriors to kill her and secure this as a safe place for us to use and also so the Elder Elf would have someone to blame for helping the Forlish.’

‘Only something went badly wrong,’ Edmund mused.

‘There’s probably twenty bodies in there,’ Caelin said. ‘But everything else is deserted.’

‘So who was the little man with the dirty hands?’ Edmund looked over towards the body of the elf they had shot down earlier.

‘Perhaps her gardener?’ Harald ventured.

Everyone turned to look at him.

‘Well, sir, he’s not the sort of warrior you’d leave behind to guard the place. He didn’t have anything more threatening than a small spade on him.’

‘This is pointless. It is obvious your mistress’s plan has failed. For all we know, there are hundreds of warriors moving in on us now,’ Edmund declared. ‘You will reopen the gateway and take us back to the king.’

Oroku blanched. ‘We cannot go! We have to complete the mission!’

‘This was a fool’s errand when we had the advantage of surprise. We have lost that and we cannot risk losing anything else. We are leaving. Now.’

Oroku drew himself up. ‘I cannot do that. We still have surprise. They would not have left a gardener here otherwise. We would have stepped out into a hail of arrows. They must think we are coming into the city through the park, where I left. It is miles away and we can sack the chamber and get back here before they realise their mistake.’

‘Too risky. We are leaving,’ Edmund said flatly.

Oroku hissed with anger. ‘You will never get another chance to get what you want out of Dokuzen. Fail here and both my mistress and the Elder Elf will turn on you.’

‘Perhaps this Elder Elf might want to hear what you and your mistress have been up to,’ Edmund countered. ‘Now open the gateway or —’

‘No!’ Oroku cried.

‘You realise your life hangs by a thread?’ Edmund asked dangerously.

‘It is your lives that hang in the balance. Kill me and you will be stuck here. And believe me when I say Dokuzen will not be merciful. Your deaths will make children shudder. But follow me now and I swear I shall get you back to your families, heroes to your people and victorious for your king.’

Edmund stared into Oroku’s eyes and could see no weakness there. He cursed as he realised there was no way back, except through him.

‘We follow you now. But you will be the first to die if there is a trap waiting for us,’ he warned.

‘We shall all be safe. The trap is in the wrong place,’ Oroku insisted.

Edmund waved to his men.

‘Cloaks on, hoods up and weapons hidden. We have to move fast,’ he told them, then grabbed Oroku by the shoulder. ‘Lead the way, up front with my scouts.’

Oroku glared at him but joined Caelin, Harald and Ruttyn.

‘Don’t worry. They always give us the dangerous jobs but we always come out of it alive,’ Harald told him confidently.

Lord Ichiro shook his head, obviously disbelieving Asami and Retsu’s tale. As he was both the leader of clan Chenjaku and father to Sendatsu’s dead wife, Kayiko, he was a key ally of Jaken and one Asami knew had to be won over. However, he had interrupted her almost as soon as she had begun.

‘Even Sumiko would not stoop so low,’ Ichiro told the Council.

‘You forget — the Magic-weavers have a history of deceit and betrayal. They have been outside society for three centuries for just such a reason,’ Retsu fired back. ‘We must send a message warning Lord Jaken and demanding the return of Lady Sumiko for trial for treason.’

‘We will need evidence to put our names to that,’ Ichiro said flatly.

‘Of course.’ Retsu nodded. ‘Let Lady Asami continue.’

Asami forced herself to ignore the tiredness that seemed to have settled into her bones. ‘Yesterday I tried to talk to Sumiko’s deputy, a Magic-weaver called Oroku, as he was preparing to open an oaken gateway in the park. He admitted he was going to see the Forlish, on a mission for Sumiko. Before he could tell me the rest of the plot, I was attacked and he escaped.’

‘We need more than that,’ Ichiro said impatiently.

‘Last night, both Lord Retsu and I were attacked in my home by Sumiko’s men. We were nearly killed and were saved only though the arts of Father Hiroka. These two events are connected. With the army out chasing the gaijin, the city would be vulnerable — but only to an attack helped by magic. They plan to bring in a group of Forlish, to pretend the humans have magic, and terrify the people so that they will turn from Jaken and beg Sumiko to protect them. The evidence is rotting in my home — but also willing to talk to you now.’ Asami signalled and Council Guards brought in the two surviving attackers, hands tied behind their backs and their hoods taken off to reveal their faces.

‘Tell the Council who you are, if you want to live to see nightfall. Be truthful and we shall be merciful. Lie and you shall finish the day lying in your graves,’ she told them.

With only a little prompting, the two admitted they had been sent to kill Asami on the orders of Jimai, along with many others.

‘So we have Oroku going to see the Forlish and Jimai trying to have you killed. But where is Sumiko in all of this?’ Ichiro summed up.

‘Do you really think Jimai and Oroku would do anything without Sumiko’s approval?’ Asami challenged.

‘It is not what I believe but what Lord Jaken will believe. And the evidence of a conversation nobody else heard, a pile of bodies and the admission of a pair of esemono is not going to get him to turn on Lady Sumiko.’

‘Then let us bring Jimai here and make him answer the questions. We have evidence against him,’ Asami said reasonably, keeping her frustration well hidden.

‘But what of the threat to bring Forlish here? How can we stop them if that is the case?’

‘We have the remaining company of Council Guards watching the park. That is where Oroku escaped and where they will bring the Forlish in, so as many people can see them as possible,’ Retsu said reassuringly.

‘Then send two guards from our door to bring Jimai to us. If he is willing to give up his sensei, then we can offer him a deal.’

Asami looked at Retsu, who nodded. It was a start, at least.

Caelin could feel a thousand eyes on him as he walked through the streets of Dokuzen. Not that there were that many elves around; in fact, there were hardly any. And the few they did see passed by without offering the strange group more than a glance. It all set his teeth on edge.

‘Why are they not more curious?’ he whispered to Oroku, unable to take it any longer.

‘Because we are wearing the cloak of the esemono, the common labourers and the lowest of the low. We are beneath their attention. To talk to us would be dishonourable for them,’ Oroku hissed back.

‘This is a strange place indeed,’ Caelin murmured.

‘Wondrous!’ Harald corrected. ‘If only I could persuade the wife’s mother that she should never talk to me again because I am so below her —’ A nudge in the ribs from Ruttyn silenced him.

The tall stone houses, the statues, the beautiful gardens seemed to blur for Caelin, so it seemed as if he was walking in a dream world. How could this be real? Only the wood of his crossbow, in his hand beneath the cloak, and the aimless chatter of Harald gave him something to hold on to.

‘How far?’ he hissed at Oroku, unable to take much more of this. Coming here with violence felt all wrong and he should apologise for what they were about to do to this beautiful city.

‘That’s it there.’ Oroku pointed at a building that towered over all the others, a magnificent creation of wood, stone and marble that made everything in Cridianton look like a peasant’s hut.

Edmund pushed through the ranks of the men until he was at their shoulder.

‘We take out any guards as quickly and silently as possible. We want prisoners, not bodies, so we only kill those who fight back. Even then, try to wound rather than kill,’ he whispered.

‘They will not show you the same mercy,’ Oroku warned.

‘We need hostages to make your Elder Elf give us what we want. Dead bodies just mean vengeance,’ Edmund told him coldly. ‘Now lead on.’

‘Perhaps I should wait here …’

‘You will be coming with us.’ Edmund gripped Oroku’s arm and the Magic-weaver forced a smile.

‘Of course.’

‘Chenjaku Konichi Jimai, you are talking to not only your clan leader but almost the entire Elven Council. We command you to tell us the truth. We can offer you a deal,’ Lord Ichiro said persuasively.

Jimai laughed, a wild sound. ‘A deal? The moment I open my mouth to you, I am dead. Sumiko will kill me before you can ask a single question.’

‘We can protect you. I can protect you,’ Asami offered.

‘You don’t understand.’ Jimai looked left and right over his shoulders. ‘By the time I told you anything, it would be too late.’

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.