Wall of Spears (43 page)

Even though it was foolishness, Ward found that comforting.

‘Aroaril!’ Sendatsu swore, as he saw the banner fall and the horses bolt. ‘Rhiannon, can you bring them back?’

Rhiannon closed her eyes for just a moment. ‘It will take too long,’ she said instantly. ‘They think they are a wild herd. To break that, I have to go into each horse’s head and turn them back into what they really are …’

‘A simple “no” would have been enough,’ Sendatsu grumbled and raced across to where Edmund, his officers and a pack of message riders were staring in horror at what was going on.

‘We can’t bring them back by magic. We have to use whatever we have,’ Sendatsu said urgently, grabbing Edmund’s bridle.

‘I’ll send Wulf in. He can gallop around and rescue them,’ Edmund said immediately.

‘More horses? Are you mad? They will just be slaughtered by arrows or driven off with magic!’

‘Then what? We have no time!’

‘Attack all along the line, then give me a regiment of your men and I’ll cut my way through to Ward, with my Velsh leading the way,’ Sendatsu said.

Edmund hesitated for but a moment. ‘Take the fifth. They are closest. Signal the advance across all ranks, send two riders to Captain Alfred, tell him he has to follow Lord Sendatsu here,’ he snapped.

Sendatsu turned and raced back to where Gaibun, Cadel and the others waited, wondering.

‘What are you planning?’ Gaibun asked.

‘Edmund is giving us a regiment of Forlish and we are going to cut our way through to Ward,’ Sendatsu said.

‘But he is no friend of ours,’ Cadel objected.

‘He’s no friend of anyone except himself,’ Gaibun added.

‘If he dies, how long do you think this army of his will stand?’ Sendatsu demanded.

They could not argue with that.

Forlish soldiers swung out from their rear ranks and began jogging over towards him, led by a lean, scarred officer with only one eye.

‘Follow me!’ Sendatsu shouted, then began to run towards where the elves were catching up to Ward’s dismounted cavalry.

The Forlish hesitated, looking back towards the safety of where they had been standing, then they formed up behind the Velsh.

‘This feels very strange,’ Cadel said, glancing over his shoulder.

‘You’ll be glad they are there when we hit the elves,’ Sendatsu said.

‘I thought they were Elfarans?’

‘Until they know the truth, they are elves.’

For a brief moment, Sendatsu thought they might have surprised Sumiko. But then a pair of clans, led by his old enemies the Kaneoki, swung out and rushed at him.

In an instant they were fighting, the elves looking to overwhelm the unarmoured Velsh.

But, at an order from Cadel, the Velsh formed into a wedge, with Sendatsu and Gaibun at the tip, Cadel and Bowen just behind. Sendatsu felt strange to be standing with Velsh and Forlish against his old people — then the feeling vanished as the elves were upon him.

A howling warrior, resplendent in armour and a tall helm with sweeping horns, aimed a simple cartwheel cut at Sendatsu. He flicked it away contemptuously and killed the warrior with a straight thrust to the throat, then snapped back into position and despatched the next with the zigzag style, tearing open wounds in thigh and groin. To his right, Gaibun was not quite as perfect in his strokes but even more powerful, grunting as he killed.

The elven warriors broke around them and flowed down the sides of the wedge, where the Velsh put their training to the ultimate test. Time and again, the elven warriors were so surprised to have familiar strokes returned at them that they hesitated. A fatal mistake.

At first the Velsh made good progress but then the second clan arrived and the resistance in front of Sendatsu thickened dramatically. He might have pressed on by himself, or with Gaibun by his side, but the Forlish were now fighting and had locked themselves into a shield wall and he could not get too far ahead of them.

He wiped blood from his face and dared cursing Kaneoki warriors to come and die.

‘I am Tadayoshi Moratsune Sendatsu, your rightful Elder Elf! To face me is a sentence of death. Bow down or I shall cut you down.’

‘Liar!’ A young warrior in old armour raced at Sendatsu. ‘My grandfather was Elder Elf and betrayed and murdered by your kind!’

Sendatsu did not recognise him, guessing he was one of Daichi’s older grandsons, who had marched to war in his father’s armour and now sought glory. That made Sendatsu regret what he had to do but he did not hesitate as he used a dragon-tail cut then a tiger-claw stroke to take the elf’s sword-hand and then his head.

Through the mist of blood, Sendatsu could see Chenjaku warriors surrounding Ward’s men and knew they were too late.

‘There’s men coming to get us. Stand fast and we can hold these bastard elves off long enough to be rescued!’ Ward shouted, gasping to get his breath.

Trying to run in armour was a game for young men and he fought for air as he drew his sword, Wilfrid doing the same next to him.

There were hundreds of elves running at them but he still felt confident. He had more than two hundred men with him, all of them veterans of the southern wars and experts with their swords. Surely they could hold off some elves for long enough for his men to cut their way to him?

Mogosai again found himself in the front rank of a charge. He still had his doubts but he banished them ruthlessly. Who knew how these humans would fight. They did not have shields and their swords were different as well — did that mean they were better than the ones they had already fought?

They were standing in a rough semicircle, but not packed nearly as close as the ones with shields. He picked out a gap and ran at it, aware of others to his left and right doing the same. A human drew his arm back over his shoulder and brought it down in a huge stroke.

Mogosai felt a moment’s sadness, that the human was so poorly skilled with the sword. It was almost unfair to kill him. Then he stepped to his left, helping the huge swing of the sword on its way with a subtle parry of his own. The human staggered, off balance because he had put so much effort into a wasted swing, then Mogosai stepped inside and drove his sword deep into the man’s thigh. Arterial blood sprayed out and the human toppled over, screaming.

Mogosai left him for the esemono, or the blood loss, to finish — whatever got him first — and turned to his right, to where another human was backing away. His chest was well protected with a coat of mail but as he raised his arm to block a high blow from another elf, Mogosai rammed his sword into the man’s armpit, and into the chest beyond. He had to wrench his sword free as the man collapsed, then looked ahead to see only open space — and a pair of richly dressed humans standing close together. He ran at them.

Ward gaped in surprise and horror as his men were cut to pieces, torn apart in a few heartbeats. A few score survivors backed away, trying to form a ring around their king and prince, but they stood no chance. There were twice as many elves and each had double the skill of the men they faced. A few men stood their ground, using size and power to drive back smaller elves — but they were attacked on all sides and it was only a matter of time before they were battered down onto the bloody ground.

The ring got tighter and tighter around Ward and Wilfrid.

‘You should not have come for me, Father,’ Wilfrid said.

‘I had to come for you. You are my last son,’ Ward told him.

‘We are going to die here.’

‘I have faced death before, by myself, and it was a terrible thing. Facing it now with you is far better. I am proud of you.’

‘We are not dead yet,’ Wilfrid said. ‘Stand back to back with me, Father!’

Ward hefted his sword, knowing it would do no use.

Ahead of him, a cavalry trooper, well over six feet tall, with shoulders the size of a barn door, slashed furiously at an elf, any one of his strokes enough to kill a horse — if they landed. But the elf merely ducked, dodged and blocked, then the trooper over-extended himself and elven steel ripped into his knee. The man howled and fell forwards — right into another blow that tore his face and half his skull away.

Ward realised he and Wilfrid were the last ones standing. He saluted the elves with his sword and rammed his sword at one’s eyes. Behind him he could hear Wilfrid grunting as he swung his sword furiously, as though he were cutting hay.

Ward’s blow was parried, then another elf stepped in and kicked out at Ward’s leg, flipping him up and over, his sword flying away. He gasped, all the air knocked out of him as he hit the ground, unable to rise.

‘Father!’ he heard Wilfrid call, then saw an elven sword burst through his son’s chest, driven through the mail with enormous force.

He had no time to mourn, as many hands grabbed him roughly and dragged him away.

‘They have him,’ Rhiannon reported dully.

Beside her, Edmund hung his head. He had watched Sendatsu and the Velsh battle valiantly but hopelessly as they fought to reach Ward. He saw how the Velsh had been able to cut down the elven warriors but they were unable to drag their accompanying Forlish shield wall with them fast enough. He had also seen the massacre of the men with Ward but had hoped against hope that somehow his king might find a way out.

‘Why did he go? Why?’ Rhiannon demanded. ‘It was madness!’

‘It was. It was like he was bewitched. His one thought was to save his son and nothing else.’

Rhiannon groaned. ‘Sumiko. She must have spoken to him, touched him, planted a seed of magic within him so he would do this. She had always had plans within plans.’

‘Can you free him?’

Rhiannon closed her eyes for a moment. ‘It is done. But I do not know how that will help us.’

‘It will not,’ Edmund said. ‘But at least it gives him a chance to die with honour, as himself.’

Rhiannon turned and saw the Forlish officer’s eyes were unnaturally bright, and his jaw was clenched with an effort to keep himself under control.

‘He was a bastard who slaughtered his way across these lands. And you mourn him?’ she asked.

Edmund shrugged and lowered his voice. ‘He was the closest thing to a father I had. And I mourn not just for him but for Forland as well. We are lost now.’

Ward felt his mind clear as he was hurried along by a dozen elves. He desperately searched for a way out of this. But nothing had come to him by the time he was dragged in front of a gloating Sumiko.

‘King Ward. Not so proud now, are you?’ she greeted him.

He tried to stand but elves kicked him in the back of the knees and dropped him down once more.

‘Kill me and get it over with. I don’t have the patience to talk to you,’ he said.

‘Kill you? I’m not going to kill you.’

Ward spat. ‘That’s right — you wanted me to be your servant. Well, you can try but first chance I get, you will be dead.’

Sumiko smiled at him. ‘Such anger and violence. No wonder you humans have not risen out of the mud since we left these lands. No, I do not require you to be my servant. I shall let you and your family live in comfortable exile. All you have to do is tell your men to lay down their arms, and hand over the traitors Sendatsu, Asami and Rhiannon to me.’

Ward stared at her with loathing. ‘My last son is dead — killed by your warriors just then.’

Sumiko did not blink. ‘He will not be dead yet, I am sure. And we can heal him in an instant. Think of it. Your son returned to you. A palace by the sea. Any comfort you desire. All for handing over a few worthless traitors and making your people bow down before me.’

‘How can Rhiannon be a traitor? She is Forlish,’ Ward said.

Sumiko chuckled. ‘She has magic, which is ruled by me. By fighting against me she is a traitor.’

‘And for that you will let me go?’

‘You have my word on it.’

Ward glanced around and saw the way the elves were looking at him as though he was an animal — and one marked for slaughter, at that.

‘You get your son back, just by doing this for me,’ Sumiko said enticingly.

Ward felt a strange compulsion to agree with her, but perhaps the blows he had taken had changed him, for he was able to resist it.

‘You are afraid of Rhiannon, Asami and Sendatsu. That is why you want them,’ he said.

‘Afraid? Me? I fear nothing and nobody. I want what is mine returned to me, that is all. You do not have to do much. I will even let you keep ruling your people, raise the Forlish up into the status of Elf Friends. You will be first among the humans, safe with your family, your son at your side, every comfort you could want, just for saving the lives of your men from my wrath. Think on it, for I shall not offer it again.’

‘And the other lands?’

‘They will be enslaved by us, just as you enslaved them.’

‘And the magic?’

‘Is mine, as it always was. Now choose, for my patience grows short!’

Ward nodded wearily. He could see how the elves despised him, it was written all over their faces — so much so that they had stopped holding him down on his knees.

‘It seems like an easy choice. I owe Rhiannon, Asami and Sendatsu nothing. And I have enslaved and brought misery to many other countries,’ Ward said.

‘Good. We shall send healers to find your son —’

‘But there’s one thing you don’t know about me,’ Ward interrupted, his voice firming. ‘I did not do anything for myself, nor even my sons. It was for all humans, to see us rise once more. You are right to fear Rhiannon. For she will destroy you …’ Ward kept talking as he surged to his feet and elbowed the nearest elf in the face, then grabbed his sword and turned to stab Sumiko to death. He went to take the final pace, except all the strength had gone from his legs. He fell to the ground, still trying to force his arm to move, then all went black.

‘You should not have killed him!’ Sumiko thundered. ‘He is worth nothing to me dead!’