Elves: Beyond the Mists of Katura (10 page)

Stein wasn’t really listening; his concentration was focused solely on his casting, which in comparison to the Il-Aryn’s was a work in stately progress towards a less spectacular
goal.

Takaar was still talking. ‘Don’t tell anyone else, but from the outside the barrier is opaque, like water cascading down glass. They can’t see through it.’

Forty yards.

‘Really?’ Stein almost lost the shape of his spell. ‘That’s very good. Very good indeed.’

Wytch Lord magic spat across the shortening gap from both sides as the elven ship moved smoothly between the enemy vessels, turning a few degrees into the wind. Black lines traced across the
barrier, which rippled like a millpond pierced by a stone. Stein clung to his casting while the energies thrummed and fought all around him. On the deck adepts grunted and shivered. Drech urged
them to strength.

Twenty yards. The enemy ship in Stein’s vision was huge. He felt as if walls were closing on them from both sides and he could hear the shouts and taunts of Wesmen as if they were
surrounded. The TaiGethen tensed. Stein looked beyond the stern of the onrushing Wesman ship. The flank of the central vessel, the ship the elves could not board on their first pass, was just in
range. Stein cast, seeing his orb fly in an arc towards his chosen enemy. The skipper of the elven ship turned a few more points north, leaving them broadside on to the enemy on both sides and
almost in irons.

The two enemy vessels moved past them, one trailing the other by about half a length. Shaman magic tore at the shield, and the Il-Aryn fought to keep their casting sound. From the rails left and
right the Wesmen howled promises of death. The TaiGethen leaped to oblige them.

Auum had seen
Gyaam’s Blessing
turn east towards them and sail across the bows of the front rank of enemy vessels. Just astern of them,
Spirit
mirrored
the move, ploughing west across the light swell and triggering a belated reaction from the enemy.

Esteren sailed astern and out of range of the front rank before pointing up a few degrees into the wind to come between their target vessels. They closed fast. The sounds of the ocean, gulls and
sails were joined by the roars of the Wesmen crowding the rails of their ships. The Il-Aryn’s casting snapped into place. A weight settled on Auum’s shoulders and he breathed deeply to
ease it.

Wytch Lord black fire crashed into the barrier, spitting and fizzing, seeking a weakness to exploit. The barrier bowed and rippled, and the Il-Aryn gritted their teeth. The ships closed; walls
of timber bristling with sharpened steel in the hands of powerful warriors.

‘Know your landing!’ called Auum. ‘Steel is death! Fight hard, move fast. Remember: over there we have no defence against the black fire.’

‘Ready, Auum!’ called Esteren. ‘Coming up five more points.’

The ship turned. Sails began to luff, spilling wind as Esteren moved as close to the wind as he dared. The gaps between the three vessels closed dramatically but were still too far for any human
to jump. Not so a TaiGethen. The
Soul of Yniss
lost way.

‘Now!’ yelled Esteren. ‘I can’t hold her here.’

‘Tais, with me.’

Auum led – surging up from a crouch, bouncing on the rail and launching himself towards the enemy ship. He locked on to his landing point on the upper hull just below the main deck. As he
arrowed his body and flew in head first, feeling arrows whip by, a bright yellow light surged across the sky ahead of him. It was an orb of flame, human magic, and it detonated against the hull of
the central enemy ship. Stein was casting.

‘Bless you, my friend,’ said Auum.

He landed, gripped instantly and propelled himself up using all the power his arms could muster. He rose across the eye line of the Wesman warriors, thumped his feet down on the rail and took
off again instantly, turning a half twist in the air, drawing his twin swords and landing on the deck.

TaiGethen thudded down in a line on either side of him on the crowded deck, Ulysan was immediately to his right and Ollem, his third, was on his left. Auum didn’t wait for the Wesmen to
turn. He hacked a blade into the neck of one warrior and drove his second into the lower back of another just below the laces that secured his leather chest plate.

Wesman bodies fell along the starboard rail. Others plunged screaming into the sea. The survivors were turning to face them now. Others flooded across the deck from other parts of the ship.

‘Get among them,’ called Auum. ‘Ulysan, Ollem, with me. Head aft.’

Without clear targets at close quarters, the shamen concentrated their fire on the
Soul of Yniss
as she moved away at her best speed to the north, aiming to come about once she’d
reached clear water. Auum glanced over at the shield, opaque and alien-looking. It wasn’t as solid as before. Most of the enemy fire was concentrated on the top of the shield where it closed
over the mainmast, and ruptures appeared sporadically. They closed quickly but were deflating the defence little by little.

Wesman shouts, orders and abuse rolled all around them. Weapons clashed, jaqruis mourned across short spaces and blood sprayed over sailcloth. Auum ran past a cell forming up to take on a large
band of Wesmen closing from both sides of the mainmast.

‘Duele, head forward and get to the shamen. They’re doing too much damage to the Il-Aryn barrier.’

‘Yes, my Arch.’

Duele surged into the attack, swaying left to evade a powerful thrust to his head and jabbing his right-hand blade into the neck of his attacker, his left into the midriff of a second. Auum ran
on, his Tai at his shoulders. The space was closing ahead of them.

‘He’s good, that Duele,’ said Ulysan.

‘One day he’ll run with us,’ said Auum. ‘When he matures. Give it a century or two. Let’s get to it.’

The Tai ahead was under pressure from quick and strong attackers. Auum saw the elf barely block an overhead blow and stumble back. The Wesman went in for the kill, but a blade from the right
caught him in the side and he fell into his comrades, blood sluicing from the wound.

‘Hassek, overhead in three,’ called Auum. ‘Tai with me.’

Auum ran on two paces, planted his right foot and jumped, turning a roll over Hassek’s Tai and the attacking Wesmen. The moment his feet touched the deck he spun and slashed both his
blades into the back of the nearest enemy, then ran on into a moment’s clear space.

Crewmen were running from them back towards the wheel deck. At the helm the captain was barking orders and warnings. Other crewmen were headed up into the rigging.

‘Beware above,’ said Auum.

‘Got it,’ said Ulysan.

‘Ollem, stay right. Watch the shamen, they have fast hands.’

‘Yes, my Arch.’

Auum saw the Wesmen form a line at the head of the wheel deck, crowding the two short flights of steps. Eight of them protected their shamen, whose fire was still playing over the
Soul
’s barrier, tearing greater and greater holes in its fabric. Auum sheathed his left blade and pulled a jaqrui from its pouch, throwing it backhand.

The blade whispered away and up, taking a slight deflection off the deck rail and whipping past its target’s defence. It chopped into the base of his nose, slicing deep into the upper
jawbone. The Wesman shrieked, his head snapping back, his sword dropping from his hands and his body toppling.

Ulysan took the left stairs and Ollem the right. Auum ran up the stair rail next to his fledgling Tai, sword in both hands. The Wesmen didn’t flinch. Auum beat back a swipe to his head and
snapped a kick into the face of his attacker before bringing his sword down at an angle to carve deep into his neck.

Next to him Ollem batted away two strikes, ducked a third and jabbed up into the groin of his nearest foe. Auum leaped from the rail, drawing his second blade again. The Wesmen had backed up a
pace and closed ranks. Auum could see the shamen behind them and, beyond them, the wheel and the skipper.

Ulysan launched a ferocious attack on his end of the line. He dropped, swept the legs from one before he even registered the move, buried a blade in his neck, bounced to his feet and swiped his
blades across in front of him, taking another in the head and chest.

Three left and still they would not flee, not that there was anywhere to run. The centre of the trio came at Auum, bringing the others with him. Auum crossed his blades in front of his face and
at arm’s length to catch the heavy overhead blow from the Wesman’s axe. He felt the power in the man’s arms and saw the fury in his face.

Auum heaved the axe up, shifted quickly to the right and aimed a kick into the man’s knee, smashing the joint backwards. The warrior crumpled, trying to strike a blow as he fell. Auum
moved beyond the wild swipe and stabbed him through his heart.

Ollem and Ulysan finished their work and the Tai ran on. It was just a handful of paces to the group of seven shamen, whose fire swept away from the
Soul
and towards the onrushing
TaiGethen.

‘Jaqrui, jaqrui!’ yelled Auum.

He dropped both blades and dragged out his jaqruis, hurling them hard at the shamen. One caught the edge of a line of black fire and was knocked up and away to tear through the canvas above
their heads. The second lodged in the base of his target’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound and the shaman clutched at himself, his fire dying with him. Auum saw Ulysan’s jaqruis take
out two more.

Auum pitched himself to the deck, rolling low. Turning he saw the jaqruis still in Ollem’s hands. The whelp had sheathed his swords first, losing precious time. He got the blades away but
a line of fire drilled into his chest above his heart, setting his leather jerkin aflame.

‘Ollem down!’ shouted Auum as he completed his roll, stood and lashed a kick into the shaman’s head, knocking him senseless and quenching his fire. Ollem gasped and fell.
Ulysan flew over Auum’s head and thumped down in the midst of them. It was unsophisticated but very effective.

Ulysan was up the next instant, his feet and hands moving faster than any of them could follow. Auum ran around him to the crewmen standing at the wheel, who saw him coming. The helmsman let go
of the wheel and scrabbled backwards to the aft rail. The captain, like his warriors, showed no fear and took the wheel himself.

Auum knocked him down with a straight punch to his mouth and nose. He glared at the helmsman. ‘Only way is to jump,’ he said in halting human.

He stood astride the captain. The man, his face bloodied and his nose flattened, stared at Auum through eyes confused by the blow to his head.

‘Who are you?’ he managed.

‘I am Auum.’ He took a jaqrui from its pouch and sliced the captain’s neck open.

The helmsman had jumped and would drown in the sea. Auum turned from the captain’s body and took the bobbing wheel. He turned it hard to starboard, towards the central ship of the rear
line, which was already burning under the force of Stein’s spell. He wedged the captain’s body under the wheel, locking the rudder.

He trotted over to where Ulysan knelt with Ollem. The youngster was both moving and talking.

‘How do you feel?’ asked Ulysan.

‘I’ll live,’ said Ollem, coughing. ‘The heat . . . Thank you, Auum.’

‘You were lucky. We’ll get Stein to take a look at you. Can you still fight?’ asked Auum.

‘I can.’

‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Fast hands, Ollem.’

‘Yes, my Arch.’

Auum stood. The fight on the ship was all but done. He could see Duele at the prow, looking for more targets, but the body of one TaiGethen lay on the deck. Auum cursed.

‘Let’s clear up and get overboard. Much to do and the day is waning.’

Capricious
moved steadily between her two enemies, one of which was beset by TaiGethen. The other was unchallenged for now. The distance to her had been too great for
the TaiGethen to risk. The skipper would come around for another pass.

The shaman casting was relentless, scouring the barrier for weaknesses. Black fire spat through with increasing regularity, and Drech’s voice, calm at the outset, was strained as he fought
to keep his adepts together.

Stein could sense the barrier beginning to weaken in several places and the shamen could sense it too. Their fire was moving steadily towards the mana lacing the construct, and where the two
forces met the Wytch Lord power was the greater.

‘Takaar, that barrier is going to fail.’

Takaar stared at him as if he’d just recommended suicide.

‘How little you know,’ he snapped. ‘There is nothing they can do to pierce it.’ He giggled into his hands and whispered to his other self, casting a sidelong glance at
Stein, who clung resolutely to his temper.

‘They are picking at the mana strands, Takaar. You only have to look.’

‘We have them defended.’

‘You do not!’ spat Stein. ‘Look, damn you.’

Takaar drew himself up and advanced on Stein. ‘You forget yourself, human. I am Ta—’

‘Save it,’ said Stein and he turned away. ‘Drech! Look to your mana stitching!’

‘You will not undermine me!’ howled Takaar.

Drech had heard him, Stein was certain of it. He felt a change in the focus through the barrier. He rounded on Takaar, finding him but a pace away.

‘I’m trying to save your life. All our lives.’

‘I am the voice on this vessel,’ said Takaar, so furious his face was colouring and his whole body shook. ‘How dare you speak for me?’

Stein made to grab his collar, but Takaar moved impossibly fast. Stein felt his hand being swept aside and himself falling, registering that his legs had been taken from under him only when his
backside struck the deck hard. Takaar pounced on him, knees either side of his chest, his hands around Stein’s throat. He was smiling, and Stein felt a chill throughout his body alongside the
trembling beat of his heart.