White Book Of Forland

By Duncan Lay

The thrilling conclusion to the Empire of Bones series.
It is time to decide who will rule the lands and control the magic. Will it be Forland, with its lust for bloody conquest? Will it be Dokuzen, with its dreams of a slave empire, or will it be Vales, armed only with Rhiannon and her magic - and the truth about why the rulers of Dokuzen claim to be elves? Into this mix comes Sendatsu. Rejected by his true love, hated by his father, hunted by his former best friend, he now burns with the desire to build a better world for his children. Betrayal follows lies which follows more betrayal as the true power behind the vicious struggle is revealed. the fate of all the lands rests on a sword's edge ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Apr 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780730496991

Duncan Lay

Duncan Lay is the Masthead Chief of THE SUNDAY TELEGRAPH. He has worked for a number of different newspapers and media outlets. He has published the Dragon Sword Histories (WOUNDED GUARDIAN, July 09; RISEN QUEEN, Jan 10; RADIANT CHILD, July 10) and now the Empire of Bones series (BRIDGE OF SWORDS, August 2012). He lives on the Central Coast with his wife and two young children.

Book preview

1

I am writing this for you, my son, because there are so many things I want to tell you and will never get the chance. This is the truth about what really happened — and the truth about me. Read this and think better of me.

‘You want the treasures of Dokuzen. I can give them to you,’ Sumiko whispered seductively to the Forlish king. She could see the greed and hope written across his face and knew he would fall into her trap, just like Lord Jaken had. Jaken thought she was doing his bidding — the fool even thought she was in love with him. After Jaken had saved Dokuzen from the Forlish invasion, the people had hailed him as their hero, called him ‘gaijin slayer’ and made him Elder Elf. They would not easily be persuaded to turn from him and accept her rule. Something dramatic had to happen to shake their confidence in Jaken. The Forlish king would be her weapon to achieve that. She would use the pair of them to destroy each other.

‘How?’ the Forlish king asked.

‘There are too many ears here,’ Sumiko said, glancing up at the galleries but more concerned with those in her party. The guards would be reporting to Jaken.

‘I grant Lady Sumiko the right to a private audience,’ the Forlish king said.

She allowed bowing servants to lead her after the king, through a crudely carved wooden door and into a smaller room. She peered inside, seeing only a few chairs. Tapestries covered the stone walls, while a thick bearskin rug took up most of the floor and left the carved chairs and small table wobbling on its surface. No doubt she was supposed to be impressed with the richness of the furnishings. She held back her sneer. To someone used to the magnificence of Dokuzen, it was crude indeed.

‘Wait here,’ she ordered her companions. ‘We cannot insult the Forlish king. Archbishop, stay close, however, for I shall call on you if all goes well.’

Inside, the king was accompanied only by one warrior, although he was dressed in court finery — at least, what passed for court finery among these barbarians, she thought scornfully.

‘Please, sit,’ the warrior said and she settled herself on the chair, no doubt the pinnacle of their craftsmanship but looking to her eyes like it had been put together by a child. She took a deep breath, trying to get a feel for these humans.

A far door opened and a richly dressed woman burst in, her face twisted with bitterness. She dragged after her a muscular young man with plump lips and vacant eyes. Sumiko watched them closely.

‘Prince Wilfrid should be present at this meeting!’ the woman demanded.

‘Madam! You will leave here instantly — or I shall have you hauled away!’ the king raged, the veins standing out on his thin neck.

‘He is your son!’ the woman cried. ‘You cannot ignore him!’

‘Begone!’ the king roared.

Sumiko watched as the pair hesitated, then the woman pulled the young man out of the room, her eyes flashing poison. The door closed and the silence grew until the warrior cleared his throat and spoke.

‘Why would you give us anything after I led an army to your gates? Why are you not trying to bring this castle down around our ears even now?’

Sumiko allowed a small smile to flicker across her face. So this was the king’s general? Curious he was not in armour and even more curious he was still alive. A failure so great should have been punished, not rewarded.

‘You were the leader of the Forlish invasion then. Well, I was the one who stopped you. I drove your men into the woods, screaming, with my magic. So believe me when I say you are only alive thanks to my good will,’ she said casually. ‘Why are you here when even the king’s son is forbidden?’

‘Edmund speaks for me,’ the Forlish king rumbled hoarsely, as if his outburst against his wife and son had drained him of energy. But there was still power behind his eyes and Sumiko was not about to underestimate him. Still, the little family drama had set her mind spinning ahead, another plan within her many plans.

She inclined her head. ‘I can hear why. But I can help you with that.’

‘Why are you here making offers — and threats — with a handful of elves, not an army?’ Edmund repeated coolly.

‘The barrier that kept us away from the world is gone — the elves are now part of it again. But we do not want to destroy every nation that surrounds us. We have shown you our power. Now we show you our mercy. You lust after what we have — so we shall offer it to you, make a lasting peace between us …’ She spoke persuasively, using the same tone that had seen the likes of Asami follow her for the last few years. But the two humans exchanged a glance.

‘Nobody gives away their power like that. Tell us the truth,’ King Ward rasped.

Sumiko kept her face impassive as she looked at them both. Time for a different approach. She let out a theatrical sigh, her face twisting into a reluctant grimace, as if she had no choice but to say these things. ‘So be it. There is a power struggle within Dokuzen. Our leaders want to rule you. They see themselves as far above you. They despise you as petty barbarians and believe you should be our slaves. If they had their way, an army would arrive at your gates within a few moons. You would live just long enough to see your people led away into slavery.

‘I can change that. I am the leader of the Magic-weavers and, with your help, I will be the ruler of Dokuzen. Your reward is not just freedom but the treasure and magic you so desperately want.’

She looked from one to the other and smiled ingratiatingly. The trap was almost ready. She would have to bait it with a little truth but that was the way to get them to swallow a bigger lie.

Ward looked up at Edmund and signalled him to silence. Now the real business had begun, he would take over the discussion. Curiosity, caution and a rising hope that this might be the way out of his looming death warred within him. He had to force his tired heart to calm down. Apart from his own life, he sensed all Forland might hinge on this.

‘Go on,’ he said levelly.

‘I was the one who defeated you and saved Dokuzen. And yet the Elder Elf, my enemy, is the one my people hail as their saviour. While they think he will keep them safe, I have no chance to rule. Though I could overthrow him in an instant, the people would fear me and never obey. I must do something dramatic to change that. I will use magic to transport Edmund and a small group of soldiers into the heart of Dokuzen. There they will capture the Elven Council, the leaders of our clans, as well as other high-ranking elves such as the Elder Elf’s wife, and burn the Council Chambers down before I send you all back safely. You shall send them a ransom demand for the Elven Council. The humiliation of being forced to beg for the return of his wife, family and clan leaders will destroy Jaken’s power. My people will turn on the Elder Elf. As the leader of the Magic-weavers, they will look to me in their time of need and I shall take control. Then you shall receive the treasures and magic you wanted to take by force — and, of course, my promise that we shall live in peace.’

‘You will send us into the middle of your city, surrounded by your warriors?’ Edmund asked.

Sumiko smiled. ‘Apologies. I did not explain myself. While I smuggle Edmund into Dokuzen, Jaken and his warriors will be in Vales, watching you, King Ward, destroy the ragtag army of Vales. Jaken sent me here to fool you into destroying Vales for him, allowing him to destroy you afterwards.’

‘But the Velsh fought and died for you!’ Edmund blurted.

‘Indeed. You see the gratitude of the Elder Elf? No wonder I seek to overthrow him,’ Sumiko said, the bitterness apparent in her voice.

Ward waved Edmund down. ‘And what do we get?’

‘What do you want?’ Sumiko offered.

‘There is only one thing I want. Your elven immortality.’

Something flickered across her face and she leaned forwards on her chair. ‘Where did you hear of that?’

Ward smiled. ‘I have amassed as much knowledge about the elves as possible. That came in an old scroll from Breconia, tales of elves still young when humans who met them were grandparents.’

Sumiko leaned back and the chair creaked, so she sat forwards again. ‘That was not quite correct,’ she said. ‘But it is true we are able to live far longer than you can, thanks to magic and a few other little tricks. What you need is a priest of Aroaril to heal you. But elves are not immortal.’

Ward and Edmund exchanged a glance. ‘And what if I think you are lying to me now? What if I take the Council and tell this Elder Elf they will die unless he gives me the secret of immortality?’

Sumiko sighed. ‘He cannot give you what he does not have. Keep the Elven Council for long enough and you will see them age and die. Trust me. As a sign of my good faith, I shall call Archbishop Fushimi in here now and get him to save your life.’

‘What?’ Edmund said, surprised.

‘How?’ Ward asked in the same instant.

‘He will heal whatever it is that is killing you,’ Sumiko said pleasantly.

‘Do it,’ Ward said instantly.

‘Sire, do you think this is wise —’

‘Edmund, I am dying. There is nothing to lose. But, if he kills me, your first act as the new king of Forland will be to slaughter these elves.’

‘With pleasure.’ Edmund glared at Sumiko.

Sumiko waited while Edmund opened the door and spoke quietly to the guards outside, giving the orders.

‘There is nothing to fear. You will be healed and see that my words are to be trusted. But we cannot speak of our plans with the archbishop in the room. He may not understand the subtleties.’

Ward smiled back at her. ‘I see.’

Fushimi was ushered into the room, offering a short bow to all of them.

‘Archbishop, as a sign of our good faith, we need to heal the Forlish king,’ Sumiko said immediately.

Fushimi stared at her. ‘This was approved by the Lord Jaken?’ he asked stiffly. ‘Because he knows my concern about using Aroaril’s power on the humans —’

‘I speak with his voice. It must be done,’ Sumiko said roughly.

Glaring at her, Fushimi strode forwards and held out his hand to Ward.

‘Place your hand in mine. What is it that is killing you?’ he grunted.

‘A growth inside, the doctors tell me. It is agony to piss —’

‘I do not need to know all the details!’ Fushimi sniffed. ‘That will do.’ He closed his eyes, muttering under his breath, then both Ward and Edmund gasped.

Ward felt the life flow back into him. Before his eyes, his hands, which had seemed like skin stretched over bone, filled out once more. He pointed to a bronze mirror on a side table and Edmund wordlessly held it up for him. It was as if a stranger was looking back at him: his hair was darker, his eyes clearer and the deep wrinkles in his skin had smoothed out. Best of all, the constant pain was gone.

‘You are back to health,’ Fushimi said. ‘However, the growth may return. We have seen this happen before. If it does, then you will need our help once more.’

Ward released Fushimi’s hand and looked at his own, marvelling at it.

‘Now that is magic,’ he said, his voice shaking slightly. He surged to his feet, his clothes fitting properly again rather than hanging off his frame.

‘Thank you, archbishop,’ Sumiko said softly. ‘King Ward, we shall leave you now to think about our proposal. When you are ready to make a deal, talk to me again.’

Ward ignored her, more interested in exploring himself, chuckling as he felt muscle instead of bone wherever he placed his hands.

‘We shall consider what you said and reply soon,’ Edmund answered for him.

Bows were exchanged and then Sumiko reached out and took Ward’s hand. He felt a sudden warmth and a strange sensation that made his whole arm jump, as if every nerve had been tickled.

‘Your very good health, Lord King,’ she said, before allowing herself to be escorted out of the room.

Edmund waited until the door had closed before falling to one knee.

‘Sire, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you restored to health.’ He smiled broadly. ‘You don’t have to make me your heir, you can —’

Ward stopped feeling his face and body and focused on Edmund again.

‘Get up,’ he said irritably. ‘We can’t discuss things with you on the floor. Forget about me. Can we trust those elves?’

Edmund stood slowly. ‘Sumiko is willing to betray her own people to gain power. Those who have betrayed once will betray again. We cannot trust her to keep her word.’

Ward stretched his arms above his head and then reached out and lifted up one of the chairs, just because he could, glorying in the strength he thought he had lost forever. ‘So you have been listening to me these last moons! Good. But you forget that we have used traitors before. Greed, the lure of power or a threat to families can be a powerful tool to make men do our bidding and find ways into seemingly impregnable fortresses.’

‘We can trust her to do whatever is necessary to gain power. I understand traitors. I have used them myself to get inside a wall. But this is different. Once we are inside a fortress, we have our victory and we do not need the traitor any more. What Sumiko proposes gives us hostages but not complete victory. We shall still need to rely on her. And at that time she could turn on us.’

‘Yes, she could. But we would be safely back here, with hostages in our power. Even if the elves do not give us everything we want, we have enough of them to make them use their magic to help us. And we can also use them if she turns on us. We tell them the deal we made with Sumiko and then send them back, use them to destroy Sumiko. If that happens, the elves will fight among themselves and we can swoop in and pick up the pieces.’

‘So you are going to accept her offer?’ Edmund asked stiffly.

Ward held up his hand. He felt he could stand here all day and admire how good it looked, nothing like the wizened claw it had been only a matter of heartbeats ago. He had gone from the depths of despair to the summit of triumph. He could see only success and glory for Forland now.

‘They have what we want. I am proof of that. For this, it is worth risking everything!’

‘Sire, what if it all goes wrong?’

‘Then we are no worse off than we were a day ago. I was about to die, you were about to step into my shoes and the elves were about to descend on us with bow, sword and magic.’

Edmund nodded ruefully.

‘A king needs to step back and see a problem from all angles. Or the thing you missed will come back and hurt you. We shall accept her offer but be ready for treachery.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Edmund bowed.

‘Now let us go and tell my wife and sons the bad news that I am healthy again.’ Ward smiled and clapped Edmund on the shoulder. Then he thought about what he had just said. This was a second chance, he realised. Edmund was still the best man to rule Forland after him but what if he could use these extra years to help his sons? It was a strange thought after he had given up on them. But it was a thought that would not go away. He forced a fresh smile and patted Edmund’s back again. What if he could finally succeed as a father?

Sumiko said nothing until she and her companions had been shown into another poorly furnished room, this one garnished by plates of stinking meat and lumpen bread, the smell of which was enough to turn the stomach.

‘Is anyone listening to us?’ she asked sharply.

‘There are two. But we have ensured they cannot hear what is said,’ Oroku replied confidently.

‘Excellent. We can talk freely now,’ Sumiko ordered.

‘What was all that about?’ Fushimi asked harshly.

‘Necessary deception. They did not trust us — why should they? They fear us and our anger, so we had to persuade them they were right to make a deal with us.’

Fushimi sniffed. ‘And yet we plan to trick and betray them?’

‘Of course. They are only gaijin,’ Sumiko replied casually. ‘And you have done your part well. I shall report as much to Lord Jaken.’

‘Have a care, Sumiko. Do not forget who I am.’ Fushimi drew himself up, as if preparing for a thundering sermon.

Sumiko stepped in close, so close the startled Fushimi took a step back.

‘And you forget who I am! You will address me as Lady Sumiko, for I am a member of the Elven Council as well as leader of the Magic-weavers, exalted above others and trusted absolutely by the Elder Elf. I lead here. You serve me. Forget that again and I shall see you are called up to serve your God personally,’ she hissed.

Fushimi tried to meet her gaze and failed. He offered a short bow.

‘My apologies, Lady Sumiko,’ he said reluctantly.

She spun on her heel. She could feel the archbishop’s glare on her back but she knew he was too afraid to do anything more than that. She gathered her two deputies on the other side of the room.

‘Oroku, Jimai, you understand your place in this?’

‘We know.’ Oroku nodded.

Jimai was slower to answer. ‘I am not sure of what we are doing.’

Sumiko’s fist clenched but her face betrayed nothing. ‘What, exactly, are you not sure of? We have worked for the past few years to get ourselves to this position. Finally we have respect in Dokuzen and now you don’t want to finish the job?’

‘But isn’t the job finished, sensei?’ Jimai said. ‘You are on the Council, we have the backing of the Elder Elf to teach magic and use his authority to expand our power. Surely we can stop here. We do not need to do anything else …’ He trailed off as he saw the expression on Sumiko’s face.

‘You are lucky we are not in my garden now,’ she told him, ‘or your remains would be food for the birds. I will not stop until we have complete victory. I have sacrificed too much to give up now. I want Jaken humbled before me, the way he destroyed my father. He shall bow down before me, then the whole world will follow. Now, are there any other second thoughts?’

‘No, sensei!’ they answered in unison.

She watched them walk away, keeping her face impassive. They did not know the full extent of what she had been forced to do to make her plans come true. There was no way she could have gone to the bed of that bastard Jaken without the knowledge that one day he would grovel on the floor before her, a broken and weeping shell. That thought was the only thing that had kept her sane as he grunted and pawed at her.

2

The magical barrier that protected Dokuzen for more than three hundred years had come down and now the elves had to decide how they would become part of the world. It was a decision for which we were not ready. Had we known what everyone was planning, of course things would be different. But to understand me, you have to understand what was going on then.

Asami strolled through the market of Dokuzen, her mind elsewhere. Gaibun was out with the Border Patrol. Now they were a force that had to live up to their name. Not only were there huge gaps in the barrier to the south and west, the blows the Forlish had dealt to it were proving mortal. It was shrinking, unravelling along its entire length — within a moon it would be gone. Not long ago this would have been the worst nightmare of most people in Dokuzen but there was none of the panic on the streets Asami had once predicted.

No, thanks to Sumiko and Jaken, the people believed they would still be safe, that a new barrier of magic, backed by swords and bows, would see them protected.

Asami felt disconnected from the people around her. Gaibun was beyond happy, telling everyone he met he was about to become a father and basking in their response. All the congratulations left Asami feeling frustrated and angry, however. She was effectively banished from the Magic-weavers; her messages to Sumiko offering help returned unopened. Her parents were delighted at the thought she would give up the magic and give them a grandchild, setting Asami’s teeth on edge. Everyone told her how happy she should be, which just made things worse. None of her acquaintances — she could not call them friends — would understand, let alone be able to help. She longed to speak to Rhiannon and yet could not bring herself to.

The hardest thing of all was emptying her mind of Sendatsu. The memory of their last meeting and the expression on his face as he walked away haunted her. Was there a way out, something else she could have said to change things? Could she have run away with him after all?

That question, at least, was easy to answer. Gaibun’s reaction to their child told her he would not have stopped until he found them. What sort of life was that, always on the run? Yet what sort of life awaited her now? The cloistered existence of the nobility, never able to use her magic the way it was intended. Or worse, forced to watch the humans being dragged back here as slaves.

The colours, sounds and bustle of the market were a welcome distraction and she wandered, searching for something that appealed. People were rushing around, moving with purpose. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she noticed a pair who seemed out of place in the market. These two moved from stall to stall, attracted by nothing. They wore nondescript clothing but her bored eyes picked up that they both carried swords, quickening her interest, and she pretended to go through the fine leather shoes at one stall so she could watch them loiter near her, trying to look inconspicuous and yet standing out because of it. From their stance and the way they carried themselves, she could tell they were not nobles. The way they avoided the well-dressed shoppers made her think they were esemono, although why they were here and carrying swords was a mystery.

One of them seemed a little familiar somehow, although she could not place him. She wondered if Gaibun had somehow paid them to shadow her — then another, darker thought occurred to her. Sendatsu had thought Sumiko would try to kill her. But Sumiko was away, on a mission for Lord Jaken …

Even as she thought that, she saw the pair signal to someone else. She turned, seemingly casually, to see another pair of esemono, similarly dressed and armed, moving into place on the other side of the stall.

Asami felt everything come alive. She looked around quickly. Beyond the second pair were a couple of clothing stalls, then one selling pottery and behind that a stall selling rice and tea. She had hoped for a swordsmith but they were hardly likely to run a stall in the market. Still, she was not defenceless.

The first pair drew their swords and advanced on her, making nearby shoppers scream and run, or duck for cover. The other pair also drew swords but merely to stop her fleeing. She ran at the first pair. One raised his arms to bring his sword down on her unprotected head and she slammed the heel of her hand into his throat then, as he staggered back choking, ripped the sword from his grasp. His companion pushed aside the gasping warrior and thrust his blade at Asami’s face but she swayed back and cut down ferociously. The borrowed sword had a cheap wooden hilt that twisted slightly in her grasp but the blade was sharp and true and sliced through flesh and bone, taking his leg off below the knee. Blood sprayed across the ground as the screaming warrior fell over, clutching his spurting stump.

Asami spun towards the second pair, bringing her borrowed sword back into the guard position, flicking sticky blood in all directions. They hesitated and she smiled humourlessly at them — then a bellow from her left made her turn to see a third set racing in, swords out.

Not willing to wait until they cornered her, she raced further down between the stalls. The second pair moved to cut her off but she glanced at the pottery stall and sent half-a-dozen heavy jars flying at the would-be killers. One used his own magic to fend them off but the second took a jar to the head and another two to the body and went down like a sack of rice falling from the back of a wagon.

Asami hurdled a rolling pot and attacked the magic-using attacker, moving from the dragon-tail style into the tiger-claw. He did not have her speed or skill and she finished him off with a thunder-strike that opened him up from one side to the other, her blade exploding out of his ribcage and sending shards of bone pattering onto the pottery. Asami ignored the warrior’s unearthly scream as his intestines were sprayed across the ground and caught a cut at her back as she turned, the force of the blow spattering her with the blood that coated her blade.

This warrior’s lips were drawn back from his teeth in a snarl of hatred and he rained blows at her that she dodged or blocked smoothly, feet searching for safe footing on the cobbles made slippery by blood and shit. His eagerness to press home his advantage made him unwary and his left foot slipped on a coil of rubbery intestines, provoking another howl from the esemono dying on the ground between them. Asami pounced instantly and rammed her blade into her attacker’s neck, adding yet more blood to the ground.

She ripped her sword clear of the warrior and wiped her face clean with her sleeve, beckoning the last two forwards. One was still gasping for breath after she had punched him in the throat and the other was looking nervous after seeing how she had dealt with four of the original six: one was still alive, although unconscious; two were dead; and the one with only one leg still screaming out his last.

‘I’ll give you a choice. Run from me now or come here and die,’ she invited, flicking blood from her sword at them. The two exchanged glances and she used the opportunity to send more pots cartwheeling through the air at them, following with her sword. The gasping one used magic to send the pots smashing into other stalls but Asami assailed them a moment later. The other attacker lunged but she slipped past his blade and slashed off his hand and wrist. He yowled in agony and reeled back across in front of her, so she finished him off with a slice across the kidneys.

‘Who sent you?’ she asked the last attacker, who backed away, sword held low before him. ‘Where are you from?’

She looked into his eyes and a faint memory stirred but she could not place it.

‘You cannot escape and you cannot match me. Throw down your sword and tell me everything and I shall see to it that you live, despite your crimes,’ she said.

In response, he let out a hoarse howl and jumped at her, swinging his sword. She flicked his wild stroke over her shoulder and let him impale himself on her blade. He dropped his weapon and hung limply on her borrowed sword for a long moment as she looked into his face, trying to find an answer but seeing only the blankness of death. She let go of the sword and let him fall to the ground.

The dying moans of her attackers were growing weaker but there was almost no other sound in the market. Everyone else was cowering away or watching from behind the dubious safety of a wooden stall.

Asami stepped across a pool of blood and selected a garish yellow robe from a nearby stall, using it to clean the blood off her face, hands and arms.

‘Send me the bill for that one,’ she told the dumbfounded shopkeeper, dropping the ruined robe on the ground, before turning to the pottery stall owner, who was looking mournfully at the shards of his stock on the ground, and the blood coating many others.

‘You can send the bill for those to Lord Jaken. His warriors should have made this market safe,’ she announced.

The stallholder nodded dumbly as Asami walked further down and stopped at the tea stall, where she wordlessly took a cup from the owner.

Asami toasted her with the cup before leaning back against the side of the stall and clutching the tea close, hoping it would stop her hands shaking. She wondered who had sent six warriors to kill her.

‘How could such a thing happen? In the marketplace? I shall tear Dokuzen down with my bare hands until I find out who is responsible, then I shall rip them into pieces!’ Gaibun raged, storming around the garden.

‘Calm down,’ Asami told him. She had changed but the smell of blood and death and shit was still thick in her nose and she had to be out in the fresh air, where the scent of the autumn flowers could at least distract her. ‘We know who is responsible but proving it will be near impossible.’

‘There has to be something we can do!’ Gaibun spat. ‘We shall wring answers from the one who survived —’

‘Sit down and listen to Asami, my son,’ Retsu rumbled. ‘The last attacker died before we could get anything from him. He seemed to have some sort of fit at the first question and choked to death.’

‘Well, that proves it was Sumiko. Nobody else would have the magical ability to make that happen.’ Asami closed her eyes to shut out the look on the faces of her attackers as she had killed them. Then a memory stirred and she gasped.

‘What?’ Retsu asked.

‘One seemed familiar somehow — I think I know from where. Talking about them reminded me of the time Sumiko sent a group to kill us here and steal that book Sendatsu found in Vales. I stunned one but he escaped. I only saw his eyes then but now I am sure it was the last one I killed today.’

‘Sumiko is dead. I will take her head as soon as she returns.’

‘Sit down!’ Retsu barked and, surprised, Gaibun obeyed him.

‘Listen for a moment. Sumiko and her deputies were far away, in another country. To say they were behind this is foolish. Already Jaken raises Sumiko above all others on the Council. If we were to accuse her, we would be lucky to escape with our lives. Remember, Jaken has no love for our family. And, since Sendatsu left Dokuzen, Jaken has been worse than ever. Instead of seeing Sumiko punished for her crimes, we could be the ones executed.’

‘That could never happen!’ Gaibun protested.

‘Really?’ Retsu raised an eyebrow. ‘I never thought to see the day when Jaken was Elder Elf and Sumiko his most trusted counsellor, but it has happened. And let us not underestimate Sumiko. What if this was her plan all along?’

‘What — to fail?’ Asami asked, amused.

‘Send six warriors to kill you. They stand a chance of success but she knows you have both prodigious magical skills and are deadly with the blade. So if they kill you, all well and good. If they fail and you dare to accuse her in the Council Chamber, she can use her newfound political power to have you imprisoned. Either way you are removed as a threat.’ Retsu shrugged.

‘Who thinks like that?’ Gaibun asked.

‘Jaken does, for one. And I am sure Sumiko does as well. Wheels within wheels; plans within plans. I think our only choice is to keep quiet and accept the Council Guards’ apologies, and ensure Asami is kept safe from now on.’

‘So we sit here and do nothing?’

‘No, we avoid the trap Sumiko has left for us. Years ago I was quick to confront Jaken, quick to denounce him, and it cost me both leadership of our clan and something more important.’ Retsu fell silent for a moment. ‘I still believe in honour but I also believe in learning from one’s mistakes. I shall not charge headlong into traps any more.’

‘But we cannot do nothing,’ Gaibun protested.

‘We are warned and prepared. We wait for them to make a mistake,’ Retsu corrected. ‘Meanwhile, Asami must stay in the house at all times.’

‘No!’ Asami exclaimed. ‘I shall go mad if I am forced to stay here all day long!’

‘Well, what do you suggest? Sumiko wants revenge. How else do you keep safe?’

‘But I do not want to just keep safe. I want to strike back at her.’

Retsu shook his head. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, that is what they want you to do!’

Asami held up her hand. ‘Agreed. Walking into Daichi’s old home, now her centre of power, is foolish. But there is a way to fight her. The old books from the tombs of the forefathers — they now rest in the Council Chambers, do they not?’

‘I believe so. What about them?’

‘Bring me as many as you can. I still have the book that Sumiko made, the one that allows us to translate the old languages into the one we use now. Sendatsu’s book had many things in there about elves and humans and the past. There may be answers in there that we can use against Sumiko and Jaken.’

Retsu and Gaibun exchanged a glance. Retsu sighed.

‘If you promise to stay safe, and inside, I will bring you as many as I can.’

‘Find the ones with the blue covers, for they are the words of our ancestors,’ Asami added.

‘Anything to keep you safe.’ Gaibun embraced her, leaning in to kiss her.

Asami turned her head slightly so the kiss fell on her cheek rather than her lips but, in doing so, found herself looking right at Retsu. His eyes closed briefly and she cursed herself for such a mistake.

3

By now you will know the true history of the barrier going up, how there was betrayal and murder between the clans of Dokuzen and even more betrayal and murder of the humans. We thought the humans had no magic, that we were better than them. That was never true but we felt it so strongly, we actually thought it was worth fighting for.

‘I say we need to go back to the elves, offer them Rhiannon as a gesture of our good faith and then negotiate the treaty that Huw promised us, the one that guarantees us safety and prosperity under elven protection,’ Griff said persuasively, looking around at the assembled headmen and the scores of Velsh who had gathered to watch and hear. The headman of Merthyr then turned to glare at Huw.

Huw stared at him coldly, seeing his thoughts written plainly on his face. Griff had always been against the idea of a united Vales; now, in the Elfaran betrayal, he saw his chance to bring down Huw, who had come back from Dokuzen ready to walk away from leadership. But Huw would sooner give up breathing than give Rhiannon to Sumiko. He let the man know his contempt, before scanning the crowd, trying to discover those who nodded in agreement and those who shook their heads in disgust. There were few of either — most seemed to be just listening intently as Griff resumed speaking.

‘We managed to defeat one Forlish attempt to take us over. We fought and died to save the elves from another. But we lost many of our dragons in Dokuzen and we don’t have enough to stop either the Forlish or the elves, let alone both. The solution is simple. The elves don’t want to hurt Rhiannon — they fear what would happen if the Forlish were to use her against them. They merely want to keep her safe. We should use it as our opportunity to keep ourselves safe, also. Huw has done nothing but make mistakes since we made him leader. He tells us one thing and does another. He talks about the elves not being worthy of our trust — he is not worthy of our trust!’

Griff sat down with an elaborate flourish and Huw surged to his feet immediately. In a way he was glad for Griff’s attack. If it had been Dafyd or Llewellyn wanting to step in and take over, he would never have fought them.

He paced around the table, drawing out the anticipation of his words, until all eyes and attention were fixed firmly on him. He had learned such tricks working as a bard in Forland and never had they been more useful.

‘Will this be the first action of the new Vales? To take the woman who is our hope and saviour and hand her to our enemies?’ he shouted, using his trained voice to reach even the furthest watcher.

‘Mark my words, the elves cannot be trusted. Three hundred years ago they betrayed and murdered those of us with magic. Now we have found another with the power to change our lives and we want to give her to our enemies? The elves will kill her to protect their lies and hide the truth. We face a difficult choice that will either save all humans or doom us to centuries more of living in despair. There is magic within us. Rhiannon can find it. She can change everything for us. Give her a moon to find Velsh with magic and it doesn’t matter whether the Forlish, the elves or all of them come for us — we will be able to meet and match them. Think about it — does putting aside your sling, your dogs and your knife make your flock safer from the wolf?’

He stared around one more time, noting with pleasure how most people were nodding in agreement, before signalling to Rhiannon. They had talked about this the night before and he had worked hard to persuade Rhiannon not to do something terrible to Griff or anyone else who wanted to hand her over to Sumiko, told her they were scared men but not bad men. He hoped she would remember that now and that the anger, which often seemed to be just below the surface with her, did not bubble over.

As he took his seat and Rhiannon stepped forwards, he crossed his fingers beneath the table. As always, eyes were drawn to Rhiannon and she walked carefully around the table until she was standing behind Griff, forcing him to turn awkwardly to watch her.

‘The Magic-weavers don’t want peace with us. They fear more humans have magic. You think sending me to the elves will protect you. All it will do is hand them the power. I have magic, more magic than almost any elf. I can find and teach others, if I am here. If I am dead, then I can do nothing to help you. And there are men, women and children alive here today because of me. Do you want that to be the message from Vales? Help us and we shall give you to our enemies?’

‘Wait! We only have your word for it that the elves want to kill you. But all our legends say that elves are good and kind and honourable,’ Griff protested.

‘Tell that to the scores of skeletons lying in an unmarked grave west of here, beside a Velsh church to Aroaril that the elves destroyed,’ Rhiannon fired back. ‘You have been given a gift, will you throw it away?’

Huw glanced around the table and tried to judge the mood of the headmen. Some were nodding at Rhiannon’s words while others appeared unsure. He looked across at the crowd and saw a much better response there. He surged to his feet.

‘What do the people think? Should we throw away the greatest gift the Velsh have ever received, sacrifice a young girl who has fought and suffered for us?’ he shouted.

The roar that came back from the crowd made most of the headmen turn. Rhiannon waved to the people and the noise doubled. Huw knew many of them were dragons but that did not lessen their importance. He stared at the headmen again and felt his confidence grow.

‘So who stands with me?’ he challenged them.

‘Who wants to see their children grow up free and strong?’ Rhiannon added.

Llewellyn was the first to his feet, followed by most of those around the table. ‘We shall stand with you. It is a chance worth taking.’

Griff pushed back his chair and joined them. At first Huw could not believe his eyes, then he saw Griff raise his hands, appealing for quiet. The crowd initially jeered at him but calmed down as he stayed still, arms raised in appeal.

‘I can see where this is going to go but I don’t want any part of it. You have many fine words, better than those I can come up with. But I know there is an army of elves and a Forlish army that are looking to come here and take Rhiannon, or get some revenge, or both. Words won’t stop them. I am walking away from Vales and if you have any sense, the rest of you will as well,’ he announced.

A dozen other headmen stood to join Griff, their faces equally grim.

‘We must stand together,’ Huw protested. ‘United we have a chance. Divided they will pick us off. And the Forlish will not care whether you are standing with us or not —’

‘It is too late. There is nothing you can say that will convince me to stay,’ Griff announced.

Huw felt his heart sink but was prevented from arguing further by a commotion in the crowd. He turned. Someone was approaching through the crowd, the people parting before him.

‘Sendatsu!’ Rhiannon exclaimed.

Sendatsu pushed past the last few people flanked by Cadel and Bowen and stepped into the open hall, his children holding his hands. All eyes turned to him.

‘Nobody is going anywhere,’ Sendatsu said harshly.

‘Sendatsu! What are you doing here?’ Huw asked.

Sendatsu glared around the hall. ‘Stopping an outbreak of stupidity,’ he said.

‘We have the right to vote on our future —’ Griff began.

‘You — sit down now!’ Sendatsu barked.

‘How dare you speak to me like that! You’re not even Velsh!’

Sendatsu let go of his children’s hands and stalked across the hall until he was right in front of the plump Griff.

‘No, but unless you listen to me, you’re going to be dead and your precious village in ruins. You have one chance at living past Midwinter and that is to listen to me.’

Griff’s eyes darted from side to side but nobody seemed willing to join him in standing up to Sendatsu — except for Huw.

‘Sendatsu, you cannot do this. This is Vales and this is how we want to rule ourselves. They are right, I made a huge mistake in going to help the elves —’

‘Huw, you can sit down and shut up as well!’ Sendatsu glared at him.

‘You cannot talk to us like this!’ Griff snorted. ‘You are not one of us.’

‘I am now,’ Sendatsu declared, causing most of the crowd to gasp. ‘I have left Dokuzen. I will make my home here in Vales, and I will help you stop the Elfarans destroying you.’

‘What if we don’t want you?’ Griff challenged.

‘You don’t have a choice. I am going to save you, whether you like it or not. My father is Elder Elf and he will not listen to reason, nor will he show mercy. He is intent on destroying you all, whether you support Huw or not. Your only chance of survival is with me — and with Rhiannon.’

‘So we have exchanged the Forlish menace for one that is much worse?’ Llewellyn asked.

‘Yes. But I can help you. I know who you will fight against, for I have fought against him all my life,’ Sendatsu told them. ‘We can beat them — but only if we stay together. Split apart and they will show you no mercy. Every one of you knows there is no such thing as an elf and that humans have magic. Dokuzen cannot allow that to continue.’

‘We only have your word for it,’ Griff pointed out.

Sendatsu loomed over him. ‘You can believe me or not. But you will prepare for them. Or you can stand against me with a sword.’

‘Sendatsu, you cannot do this. We are free people and we decide for ourselves,’ Huw argued.

‘Once the Elfarans are defeated you can do what you want. Until then you will listen to me,’ Sendatsu told him.

‘That is not the way it is supposed to work!’

‘Do you want to save your people or not?’

‘Of course. That is not in question —’

‘Good. Then understand this is no longer about villages against bands of raiders, or even Vales against Forland. Now it is about elves against humans. The barrier is down and only one race will be able to rule these lands. Now you have magic, it cannot stop until we have reached the end.’

‘Surely not!’ Griff protested.

Sendatsu stepped even closer to him, forcing Griff to sit down. ‘I have never been more serious,’ he promised.

‘But why are you telling us this? Aren’t you being a traitor to your own people?’ Dafyd blurted.

‘I am not an elf. There are no elves. We are all humans. You have to realise they are no better than you or you might as well give up now,’ Sendatsu told him.

‘But why is this our fight? Can’t we make a deal?’ Griff protested.

‘There will be no deal!’ Sendatsu roared. ‘You live free or you work as slaves. That is your choice. And I am not about to let you be defeated. If I have to, I will come to your village and find new leaders who will fight. So, either you are with me, with Vales, or you can run over the border into Forland and see how they greet you.’

Huw watched Griff shrink down in his seat and reluctantly nod his agreement but it gave him no pleasure.

‘Come back tomorrow and you shall hear how we can protect Vales,’ Sendatsu said. ‘And you had better be here, or I will hunt you down and drag you back.’

Griff squirmed down in his seat, thoroughly cowed. Huw knew he should have been enjoying such a sight but doing it this way left a bad taste.

‘Why not now?’ Llewellyn asked.

Sendatsu glared at him. ‘Because I’ve ridden hard and my children want to rest and eat. Anyone disagree?’

There was silence.

He turned and stalked out, holding out his hands to Mai and Cheijun as he did so.

‘Sendatsu, wait!’ Huw raced after him, Rhiannon a pace behind. ‘You can’t act like that!’

‘Someone needed to do it,’ Sendatsu said shortly. ‘My father won’t be defeated by clever words but by swords and magic.’

‘Is he really coming?’ Rhiannon blurted.

‘He and Sumiko, yes. They fear you and the Velsh.’

‘You have really left Dokuzen?’ Huw asked.

He nodded. ‘I have. I would not live there under my father’s rule after what he did to you — and what he plans to do.’

‘And Asami?’ Rhiannon asked.

Sendatsu grimaced. ‘I asked her to come with me but she chose to remain in Dokuzen with Gaibun.’

‘What? But she does not love him!’

‘Well, she still chose him over me,’ Sendatsu said, the pain dripping from his voice.

‘That is a blow. With her magic as well …’ Huw sighed.

‘I am so sorry —’ Rhiannon began.

‘We do not have time for that. I don’t know when my father will march but it will be before the snows fall. He cannot campaign through that, even with magic.’

‘What do we need to do?’

‘Find Velsh with magic. As many as we can — and then train them to use that magic.’

‘Are you sure they are coming for us?’

‘Sumiko is driving my father. I don’t know what hold she has on him —’

Rhiannon gasped.

‘What?’

‘She must have been the spy in the Magic-weavers who was helping him — and his lover. There is no other explanation for her wielding such power over him.’

Sendatsu’s jaw dropped and he put his hands over Mai’s ears. ‘I always thought his mistress would be younger,’ he said softly.

‘Why? Because a woman is ugly after her thirtieth summer?’ Rhiannon snorted.

‘No — just because that is the way of things. Sumiko is as old as my mother. Why does he not stay with her?’

‘Because love is blind? Because Sumiko gives him something your mother does not?’ Rhiannon suggested.

‘What are you talking about?’ Mai demanded.

Sendatsu grimaced. ‘Can I stay at your home until I build one of my own?’ he asked Huw.

‘Of course. I don’t think I will have much time for sleeping anyway,’ Huw said wistfully. ‘Tomorrow I’ll send the rest of the dragons out to find new recruits, as well as anyone who might have magic.’

‘Do that.’

‘Do you really think we have a chance?’ Huw asked.

‘Find us twenty Velsh with magic and ask me again then,’ Sendatsu said.

4

One of the things you might hear is I never really loved your mother. That is not true. I always loved her. Things just … got in the way of us. It seems funny to be writing of such matters when the lands were going up in flames and the fate of so many hung in the balance. But then, no matter what we do in the rest of our lives, we always seem to be defined by our relationships.

‘What do you want, sire?’

King Ward reflected that his title could be said many ways but only Mildrith could invest it with so much scorn.

‘I have called you here to talk to you about the future,’ Ward said carefully, keeping his eyes on his sons, Wilfrid and Uffa. He had had so many glorious moments in his life, so many successes, that these two failures seemed even more painful. He marvelled that he had been able to put that aside earlier. Now it felt like a thorn sticking in the back of his mind.

‘What has happened to you, Father?’ Uffa blurted.

Ward looked down at his hands again, unable to get enough of seeing them strong and healthy.

‘The elves have come to us with an offer, and have healed me as part of that, as a gesture of their good faith,’ he said.

‘So you are immortal now?’ Mildrith asked, alarmed.

Ward smiled, and it was no longer a death’s head grin. ‘No, they tell me there is no immortality. I do not fully believe them but they have given me enough time for a second chance.’

‘A second chance at sacking Dokuzen? Why would they give us that?’ Uffa wondered.

Ward was about to rage at his youngest son but bit back the angry words. He was a new man and he had a new attitude. ‘No, my son,’ he said instead. ‘A second chance for all of us. I have years left to live. I want to use those to secure Forland for all time, so that our empire stretches from sea to sea — and also to be able to hand it over to one of you.’

‘What about Edmund?’ Mildrith sneered. ‘I thought he was the son you always wanted and never had?’

Ward shook his head. ‘Edmund is my greatest general and will stay so. He would make a great king of Forland but I want to give you the chance to show me you are ready to learn, ready to rule —’

‘They already are!’ Mildrith snapped.

‘Skies above, woman, will you shut up and allow me to talk!’ Ward roared and the three of