Wall of Spears (44 page)

‘My apologies, High One. He was about to stab you. What else was I supposed to do?’ Mogasai replied, sheathing his blade with a flourish.

‘He could not have harmed me,’ Sumiko said angrily.

‘My apologies again, High One. I saw the danger to you and sought only to protect you.’

Sumiko glared at him for a moment longer and he kept his face expressionless, before she nodded once to dismiss him.

‘We shall have to do this the hard way,’ she said. ‘Take his head and put it on one of their spears and send it forwards. As soon as they see it, launch every arrow we have at their centre, then I’ll break their line and we finish this once and for all.’

‘They have little magic and few arrows left,’ Sendatsu said. ‘We have to go on the attack. We can’t let them come for us.’

He said it with all the strength he could muster but Edmund shook his head.

‘The men know the king is dead. Their confidence is shaken. We would do better withdrawing for the day,’ Edmund said.

‘Sumiko is not going to let you just walk away,’ Sendatsu warned. ‘Don’t let fear stop you.’

‘I have commanded before, many times! The king has rarely been with the armies these last ten years,’ Edmund said heatedly.

‘But the last time you fought the elves you did not dare to test us and, with Dokuzen at your mercy, you chose to pull back. The memory of that failure haunts you still but you have to put it aside now and fight this battle.’

‘For someone trying to persuade me to agree with you, you certainly like to insult me,’ Edmund said heatedly.

‘Now is the time for the painful truth. Now is the last chance you will have to turn back these elves. Send your men forwards, get them to avenge your king while you still can,’ Sendatsu said passionately.

He could see Edmund wavering and tried to find the words to convince him. He would have liked Huw to help, for the bard was ever ready with words, but he had also created the problem by holding back on the magic and Sendatsu did not want to see him yet, for fear of losing his temper.

Then a howl went up from the ranks of Forlish and they both turned to see a head on a spear being paraded along the elven ranks.

‘Your king is dead and you will soon follow,’ Sumiko’s voice boomed over all, the magic ensuring it carried to everyone.

‘Attack! Attack now!’ Sendatsu urged.

‘Too late,’ Edmund said sadly.

The arrows began first, a torrent of them, bringing down men and filling the shields of the others. Thousands of shafts, all landing on the centre of the Forlish line. And they did not stop, an endless stream that found tiny holes in the shield wall and made them larger by wounding and killing.

‘You have no cavalry left to take the pressure off. They can’t stand much more of this. You need to attack,’ Sendatsu said.

Then, while the arrows were still raining down, thick as hail and far more deadly, the front rank’s shields were shattered in a burst of magic once more.

Even as Sendatsu was opening his mouth to shout out to Rhiannon, the Forlish broke.

The centre could not stand under the killing rain of arrows and, without protection of shields, the front ranks pushed back, trying to get to safety. The second rank did not want to let them through and began to backpedal, all the time with the arrows falling.

The remains of the front rank pushed harder and that was it — everybody began to run backwards. What had been the hard centre of the Forlish swiftly became an empty gap — and the arrows made it impossible for the two wings to even think about pushing together and sealing the hole.

Not that they had the chance.

The elves rushed forwards, swords thirsting for human flesh and the two wings saw they had no chance either. They began to back up, then everyone was running and what had been a disciplined army turned into a rabble.

The elves, lighter on their feet without heavy shields and armour, began to overtake, cutting down the wounded as they tried to limp for safety.

‘Do something!’ Sendatsu shouted.

But Edmund was just watching the disaster unfold, his mouth open, nothing coming out of it.

Wulf saved the Forlish.

Forced to stay out on the left wing, forced to watch as men died and his king was killed, holding stubbornly to his orders, which had seen dozens of his men killed or wounded to no effect, Wulf had had enough.

His men swept in from the side, sweeping along after the fleeing soldiers, catching elves who had pressed too close. Strung out, eager to kill the fleeing humans, the first of the chasing elves were easy meat. Even better, the mixture of elves and humans all together made it impossible for the elven archers to aim at Wulf’s men.

Sendatsu grabbed Edmund by the shoulder. ‘He’s buying you time! Get your men under control and back towards the city. The day is growing late — there is light for only another turn of the hourglass or two. You can get most of your men away.’

‘What is the point?’ Edmund asked dully.

‘The point?’ Sendatsu shook him, conscious of the fact the elves were getting closer and although Cadel and his dragons, as well as Rhiannon and Asami, were between them and the elves, they were looking increasingly isolated and nervous.

‘We can’t let them win. Don’t you want to avenge Ward? Do you want to be a slave for the rest of your life?’

‘Don’t you understand? We have lost, we might as well give up now!’ Edmund shouted back at him.

‘You saved your men and got them back after Dokuzen last time — you can do it again!’

‘We cannot win,’ Edmund repeated, but there was less conviction in his voice now.

‘Sendatsu!’ Rhiannon called.

‘Yes, we can win. And I know how. Trust me. Get your men back and I’ll tell you how. Or do you want to shame your king, betray everything he did for you?’

Edmund’s face hardened and he nodded then raced off, the marshals following him. Sendatsu joined Asami, Rhiannon and the dragons. Huw and the Magic-weavers had hurried across to meet them and now all the Velsh were together.

‘What was all that about?’ Gaibun held a horse for Sendatsu to climb onto. The dragons and Magic-weavers were riding double but they were in little danger of being overrun by Sumiko’s advancing warriors. ‘Are we going to cut east and then try to attack Sumiko as she goes past? That was what I planned to do to Ward’s men when they were marching on Dokuzen and it would work just as well here. With nightfall, a few elven faces and plenty of magic, we could be upon her before she even knew.’

‘There is no coming back from an attack like that,’ Sendatsu warned.

‘Did you think it was going to end any differently? Especially now? And I, for one, will go happily to my ancestors if I can take her with me.’

‘It has little chance of working,’ Sendatsu said.

‘What else is there? We are dead anyway, so why not go out fighting?’

‘We have not lost yet,’ Sendatsu said, watching the cautious advance of the elves. The threat of Wulf’s cavalry was keeping them back and the elven horses were miles to the rear.

Huw laughed disbelievingly and pointed back to the battlefield. ‘Is this what a victory looks like?’ he demanded.

Sendatsu could see just as well. Wounded men crawled or staggered away, pleading for their mates to come and save them. The elves showed them no mercy. Even those lying on the ground were despatched with brutal swiftness. The ground was carpeted with dead and dying men, the only live ones the wounded who had not yet been killed by the elves. It was a heaving, screaming horror.

The elves moved across it slowly, not rushing forwards in pursuit. Sendatsu suspected they thought the humans would simply give up, that all they had to do was walk up to the gates of Cridianton tomorrow and find the entire population on its knees, begging for mercy. Realistically, that was still probably going to happen. But Sendatsu would rather hand Asami over to Sumiko than leave it there.

‘We lost today but that does not mean we have lost tomorrow,’ Sendatsu told them.

‘Ward is dead, maybe a third of the Forlish army has followed him and you expect them to just line up and do it all again?’ Huw asked.

‘No.’

Huw’s eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘So you have come to your senses?’

‘I never lost them. We will get more men and we will face them once more. They have suffered as well and will be almost out of arrows.’

‘More men? From where?’

‘The Velsh, for starters. Then we shall free all the slaves in Cridianton. Most of them were taken from the armies of the southern countries. Give them swords and they will fight.’

Huw stared at him. In fact, Sendatsu could feel everyone staring at him.

‘They won’t fight for Ward and Forland. Forland burned their cities, killed their wives and took their children. And we won’t fight for Ward either. Offering them magic is one thing but we need the dragons to protect Vales. I am not throwing them away here to try to save Forland. That is lost.’

Sendatsu guided his horse closer to Huw.

‘You don’t understand. Ward’s Forland is gone. The one that destroyed the south died with the man today. The slaves would never fight for Ward. But they will fight for you.’

‘Me?’ Huw’s surprise was all too obviously not feigned now.

‘That’s right. You are going to persuade them to fight for the human lands, against the elves.’

‘How am I going to do that? And why would I do that? I’d be better off taking them north with us, then they can fight for Vales —’

‘You’re going to do it here because the Forlish army is still going to be the backbone we need to stop Sumiko. And you’re going to do it because you lost us that battle by holding back on the magic. Rhiannon had to step in, so she did not have enough to fight Sumiko.’

‘I never meant for this to happen,’ Huw said fiercely.

‘I know. But you tried to be too clever and now those men are paying the price; men whose only crime was following their king into battle.’ Sendatsu knew that was a bit rich, for none of the Forlish soldiers were new recruits. But that was not the point. ‘You owe them.’

‘They will not listen to me,’ Huw protested.

‘You need to give the performance of your life. Because without it, we might as well slit Rhiannon’s throat now. Sumiko will not rest until Rhiannon is dead.’

‘It is madness,’ Huw whispered.

‘Good. We tried to do the sensible thing today and lost. Tomorrow we need to be mad.’

Once you started running, it was hard to stop. And, after a few paces, you decided your shield was too heavy, so you threw that away, then your crossbow, then your sword, until you were just an unarmed man running across a field and an easy mark for the elves to kill.

Caelin forced himself to stop running.

‘Come on, sarge!’ Harald cried.

‘Where are we running to? Do you think the elves will let us go home in peace after today?’ Caelin shouted.

Around him, tired men puffed past, the first of them beginning to throw away their weapons. But they still possessed enough wits to turn their heads to listen to him.

‘What would the king say if he saw us running like this? Running like a bunch of Breconians? Did running away save them? Did we show mercy to anyone who ran from us?’ Caelin shouted.

Men were now slowing down. Some still rushed past but others were stopping. Behind them, Wulf’s cavalry circled protectively, threatening any elves who tried to rush in.

‘The king is dead! He doesn’t care what we do!’ someone shouted.

‘Then run away and hide. Maybe the elves will forget about you. But they’re killing every one of our mates that we couldn’t carry away.’

Men now looked back the way they had come. Beyond the thin screen of cavalry they could see elves stabbing down at anything that moved.

Growls of anger began to replace cries of fear and more men slowed and stopped to see what was happening.

‘I’m not letting those bastards make a slave out of me,’ Caelin said.

‘And how are you going to stop them?’

‘I don’t know,’ Caelin admitted. ‘But it certainly won’t be by running away. I never broke. They never defeated me. I will walk and carry my shield off the field and Captain Edmund will think of something.’

Several other sergeants were listening and shouted at their men to form up.

Out of habit, the men shook themselves into ranks, picked up fallen shields and began to march back towards the city. Fleeing men, seeing the order amid the chaos, were attracted to them, and the company grew by the moment.

‘What are we going to do, sarge?’ Ruttyn asked.

‘Buggered if I know. But I wasn’t going to run. After that, I hadn’t thought.’

Sumiko clapped her hands together as the Forlish dissolved and began to run away.

‘Send back for the horses. We shall ride them down until they beg for mercy,’ she told Oroku.

‘Do we need to? The humans are defeated, their king dead. They will run in all directions and our warriors will be scattered to the four winds,’ Oroku said.

‘So? We will finish it off and walk into Cridianton to take possession of the human lands tomorrow.’

‘But, High One, Rhiannon, Asami and Sendatsu are still out there, with the human Magic-weavers and their own warriors. In the darkness, with our army strung out everywhere, they might try to strike at you,’ Oroku warned.

‘Is it me you are afraid for, or yourself?’ Sumiko sneered.

‘Both, High One.’ Oroku bowed. ‘But it is an unnecessary risk. The humans are finished and we can force them to hand over Asami and Rhiannon tomorrow. Why leave ourselves open when we don’t have to? Sendatsu and the others will be desperate, thinking they have nothing to lose. If they killed you, then they can snatch victory from defeat.’

Sumiko hesitated and Oroku pressed on.

‘Everything we have worked for is about to fall into our lap. We have taken extraordinary risks and they have all worked. Now we don’t need to push our luck. Victory is ours.’

Sumiko looked over the battlefield, at the thick carpet of dead. Her army was being held back by a few hundred cavalry and even they were backing away. She should have been exultant but, until she had Rhiannon and Asami in her hands, she would not be completely happy. Perhaps there was a way to do both things.

‘When the horses get here, send half the clans forwards to kill the humans and drive them to the gates of their capital,’ she ordered. ‘The rest can relax and sleep here, with me at the centre, keeping watch for Asami and Rhiannon. We have enough warriors to do both.’

‘Yes, High One.’

Edmund rode around the men, a flock of marshals at his back, feeling as if he were in a dream — and wishing it were so.

The country here was plump and peaceful, a far cry from the bloody horror a few miles back up the road. He rode across fields, past stone-built farms with neat wooden animal sheds, and could almost believe none of the day’s events had happened. Then he looked around and saw men running for their lives and it all came flooding back up.

‘Hold! Stop here!’ he shouted, raising his hands.

Men parted around his horse and kept going.

‘Spread out, sound reform and recall until you can’t breathe any more,’ he told the trumpeters.

Most of the men were running down the road, few scattering to either side, thanks to the low stone walls that marked the boundaries of the farms. They were useless as defences but surprisingly effective at channelling men back down the road, Edmund realised.

‘Walk back towards the city! Keep hold of your weapons! We are not beaten yet!’ he shouted over the trumpet calls.

Whether it was the thin line of horsemen, with their unspoken reminder of authority, Edmund’s shouts — taken up by the officers and sergeants — or the trumpet calls, but the rabble of running men began to shake itself into some sort of order.

Some had lost their shields, some their helms, others their weapons, some were running off in all directions, but the bulk of them moved back in column and marched towards Cridianton. Their heads were down and Edmund had no idea how they could be made to fight again, but they at least looked something like an army.

Then a different-looking company walked past, all of them with their weapons, and Edmund recognised the sergeant at the front — Caelin.

‘Well done, sergeant!’ he called. ‘Keep them going!’

Caelin saluted and Edmund felt a flicker of hope against the despair weighing him down. Despite what Sendatsu had said to him, he could not see any way they could get out of this. Perhaps they might be able to negotiate some sort of deal with the elves but Ward was dead, the army shattered. He had seen it often enough before. A proud leader trying to snatch victory from defeat only ends up slaughtering his men. Of course, Edmund had usually been the one doing the slaughtering.

But the sight of Caelin’s company made him think they might be able to fight again.

Behind Caelin came Wulf and his cavalry, riding slowly back, looking over their shoulders the whole way.

‘Well done, my friend,’ Edmund greeted him. ‘You let us get away.’

‘For now,’ Wulf said. ‘I couldn’t let them slaughter our boys, but I don’t know what we are going to do without the king.’

‘Sendatsu says he has a plan. He wants us to get clear and he will speak to us closer to the city.’

‘The exiled elf? Does he think to magic men out of thin air?’

‘I don’t know,’ Edmund confessed. ‘But I cannot just give up. Not after what they did to the king.’

Wulf snorted. ‘There’s plenty down south who will be glad of it — and would fall down on their knees before the elves to be free of us. There’ll be celebrations if they hear King Ward’s head is stuck on a spear.’

‘True enough. But the elves aren’t going to let everyone live free in fellowship, are they? They’re going to be worse than we are.’

Wulf sighed. ‘That is beyond me. I only know what we need to do to stay alive for a few more days. The elves didn’t have their horses close but they’ll bring them up and come boiling along after us. They’ll be riding us down before sunset. We’ll be lucky to get half of this lot away alive.’