Free Bridge of Swords by Duncan Lay Page B

…
    Sendatsu could not take his eyes off her. It transported him back to Dokuzen. The dancing was an imitation of the elven dances he had seen more times than he could remember. The human girl lacked proper techniques, did not flow properly from one step to another, but she was a head taller than any elven girl he had seen, and the way she could extend her legs, could hold the poses, sing as well … surely these two would hold the answers he sought. He watched, entranced.
     
    Huw was both delighted and horrified to see every eye in the place fixed on Rhiannon as she danced. It was exactly the reception he had hoped. Although his eyes kept being drawn to a man by the wall to the left. There was something strange about him, the way he sat, the way he held himself — and the thin staff leaning next to him was also weird. His face was shadowed by a hood but the light from the fire kept flickering across his face and there was something about his eyes, a hunger in his expression, which sent a shiver down Huw’s spine.
    Finally the dance was over, and the hall erupted with cheers and applause. Huw let Rhiannon take the bows, then began to play again, traditional Velsh tunes all knew, everything from lullabies to tales of Velsh heroes past. He had taught several of these to Rhiannon in the afternoon, so she often joined in — as did many of the audience, although, as Huw watched, not the strange man to their left.
    Finally he finished, letting the last note trail off into the distance.
    ‘Men and women of Vales,’ he began. ‘I have an important story to tell.’
    The drinking had died down and while a few were still more interested in Rhiannon’s legs than what he was saying, he was confident he had the room in the palm of his hand.
    ‘As I said, we have come direct from the court of King Ward, where I, Huw of Patcham, was the first Velshman to play for the Forlish king!’ he could not resist saying.
    He paused and the expected applause came.
    ‘But I have returned home because of what I learned there … the Forlish king seeks to conquer Vales. He looks at our freedom, at the way we live our lives, and he wants to rule us. But he is not sending his armies north — because they are too busy down south, trying to destroy the other countries there. No, instead he plans something far worse. He will send several hundred of his most vicious soldiers here, to raid, to burn, to rape and to kill. He thinks to terrify us, to force us to bend the knee to him. He thinks we shall happily exchange our freedom for his tyranny, in order to save our wives and children …’
    Huw could see his words were hitting home, while he also saw, out of the corner of his eye, the mysterious man in the shadows shifting around in his seat.
    ‘After he has raided and murdered, he will send emissaries to us, promising Forlish soldiers to protect us. Protect us from his own men! By this he thinks we shall accept the yoke of Forlish rule, allow ourselves to give away our real fortune, our freedom, in exchange for Forlish taxes and laws and a cruel king’s rule!’
    ‘When will these raiders arrive?’ someone shouted.
    ‘I do not know,’ Huw admitted. ‘Some could be here now. They could be scouting out villages, ready to launch an attack whenever they sense a weakness. We need to be vigilant. I know we have never had guards or foresters on duty but we need to keep a watch out …’
    ‘And what do we do if we see them?’ Vernin called.
    Huw stopped then. He had not thought this through, he realised. Knowing you were about to be attacked was one thing — stopping such an attack was another thing altogether. Every village had men who liked to hunt, who could use slings to bring down birds, or spears to kill boars. But they had few, if any swords.
    ‘Aye — and what if we do turn some bandits back? Will they not just return in greater numbers?’ Vernin continued.
    Again Huw was stuck. He had thought to issue his warning, be acclaimed as a