Elves: Once Walked With Gods (42 page)

Takaar shook his head. ‘I cannot carry that burden. I don’t want their faith. Yes, you’re right. Hate is easier to face. Hate does not require courage and broad shoulders. I know. I shouldn’t have come. I will not lead.’

Auum filtered Takaar’s words for those he assumed to be directed at him. ‘No one will expect you to lead. But come. See the plight of your people. Advise us. Then go if you want to. Surely you still love those who live under the guidance of Yniss? Even if they do profess hate, which the Ynissul do not.’

‘I cannot face so many. The smell of people that close. The crying of their souls. It will hurt my ears.’

Auum held out a hand. ‘I am TaiGethen. And I will protect you, Takaar. In your heart you know you can trust me. Please. Come and look. Do that for your brothers and sisters.’

‘He doesn’t force me. His hand is held out to aid me. It is not to bind me. Stop. Your words are meaningless. There is no cliff from which to jump. I will go a little further. Then we shall see.’

Takaar reached out and grasped Auum’s hand, pulling himself upright.

‘I will not let you down.’

‘I used to say that too,’ said Takaar.

Auum trotted off in a northerly direction, looking to come to the camp via the old western trail. There would be none of it left now of course, but the ground was sure and it was unlikely they’d be seen by any but the outward scouts until they were close to their destination.

The first of the morning rains began to fall. A sharp downpour that rattled and cascaded off the canopy. Tual’s denizens were in full voice above. Birds and mammals, lizards and frogs providing a stunning backing to Gyal’s tears. Auum knew he should have been proud to have brought Takaar this far but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had not done enough work on the fallen hero’s fragile emotional state. He found himself anxious when he imagined their entrance into the camp. Funny thing. In the time before he found Takaar, he had seen faces full of hope, cheering and smiles. Strength and purpose and determination. Too often in the latter days, his visions were of disdain, disappointment and sadness. Shrugged shoulders, tears of desperation and the fading of last hope.

Auum shook his head. The rain helped to clear his mind and he upped his pace. Takaar was in his shadow, moving with that effortlessness that Auum did not understand. It had something to do with his closeness to the lines of energy he could sense in the earth. Auum wondered if all the TaiGethen shouldn’t spend a decade alone with nothing but the clothes on their backs, their weapons and the bounty of the rainforest. To survive, to learn and to become genuinely one with the land they were sworn to protect. A thrill swept through him. To be alone. No priest, no Tai cell.

Takaar heard the voices of the Ynissul before Auum. His hearing was extraordinary. Auum doubted there was a beast in the forest with a keener sense. Takaar had put his hand on Auum’s shoulder and the two of them stopped, crouching in deep undergrowth along the banks of a stream that bordered the camp on two sides.

‘Some are bathing,’ said Takaar. ‘And there is much chatter in the camp. Plainly they are not pressed by our enemies.’

‘Men are scared of the forest,’ said Auum. ‘They cannot pierce it and they don’t understand it.’

‘Don’t be so sure. If what I felt from the city is an extension of their power, they might come into the canopy with fresh impetus and powerful weapons. We cannot afford to be taken by surprise.’

‘With Katyett leading us, that won’t happen. And now you’re here too.’

Auum looked across at Takaar and his heart fell. He had been worried that the sound of voices might trigger the perverse response that had followed his swim from the boat. This was almost as bad. Takaar’s hands were fidgeting. He scratched at his palms, rubbed his hands together, cleaned under his nails, laced and unlaced his fingers. His eyes were hooded and his face was crawling with nervousness.

‘Of course I can’t go in there. It isn’t fear of what they will say. It isn’t. I knew you’d imply that. I need to prepare. To be ready to face so many after so long alone.’ He looked at Auum, the relief of a reason on his face. ‘That’s it. I need to prepare.’

‘Takaar, I don’t think we have time for—’

‘Get down,’ hissed Takaar

Takaar grabbed Auum’s shoulder and the two of them lay prone. Not far to their right, a matter of a few yards, a mage melted into view. Other humans moved up around him. There were nine in all, moving with impressive quiet and with an easy stride. These were not ordinary soldiers nor yet like those Auum had met near Takaar’s hiding place. They were headed towards the stream and the sounds of bathing, thence to the camp.

Auum made to move after them but found Takaar’s hand keeping him still. Auum looked at Takaar. The nervousness was gone and in his eyes was all the focus of old combat back on Hausolis.

‘They are too many, too well spread and too skilled. Follow but do not strike yet. They mean to uncover the whereabouts of the Ynissul. We can’t allow them to escape with that knowledge.’

‘They’ll kill those at the stream,’ whispered Auum.

‘In all things there is a price. Don’t quiz me on why I know that so well.’

One of them managed to scream but it was cut off abruptly. Katyett flew to her feet, her blades in her hands, and tore through the camp, hurdling Ynissul civilians. Every head had turned towards the desperate terrified sound.

‘Tai, with me. Pelyn bring ten. Spread a line across the edge of the canopy. Marack, Faleen, guard our rear. We’re attacked.’

Katyett raced past the last of the dormitories. Behind her, her TaiGethen were ringing the camp and spreading through the fearful civilians. Eighty stood with her now. And fifteen Silent Priests. The muster was all but complete.

She entered the canopy and slowed. Merrat and Grafyrre were at her shoulders. She indicated: spread out. Her eyes adjusted instantly to the light conditions and she searched the undergrowth for signs of disturbance. The scream had come from the stream. Either the bathing area or a little upstream where water was gathered. A look right and back told her Marack and Faleen were on station. Pelyn would already have set her line. Hers was the blade most itching for fresh action. It was why Katyett had not allowed her back into the city. Pelyn was prey to thoughts of revenge and, good as she was, she didn’t have the speed or the skill of a TaiGethen.

The foliage here was not as dense as in much of the forest. The stream wound a slow course east to west and had gentle sides where vegetation grew and overhung the water, giving cover to any of Tual’s denizens who chose to use it. But on the water’s edge there was a silt bank, wide from countless years of deposits as the stream rounded a wide bend.

Anyone who stood there was exposed. Katyett cursed herself that she had been too trusting of human incompetence. Either that or someone had been followed back from the city when they had cut down the murdered forty.

Movement. Directly ahead. Katyett held up a hand, fingers straight. Merrat and Grafyrre stilled. None wore camouflage paint on their faces. It frightened people in the camp and there had been no time when the scream sounded. Katyett felt naked without it. Exposed and vulnerable. She tucked into a broad-leaved plant.

Two men moved up, their footfalls careful and all but silent. They breasted through the foliage, their blades held down, not used for hacking a path. They were about thirty yards distant. Further right, there were two more. Left, two more. Hard to see. Their cloaks were dark green and their hands covered with black gloves. Their faces were dark with beards and long hair.

‘Pairs,’ whispered Grafyrre, crouched at her side. ‘That is a weakness. ’

‘And they are walking too far apart to defend one another. They appear competent but that is a basic error. We’ll take the middle pair. Mop up the rest if they run away. Pelyn and Marack can have them otherwise. Tai, we move.’

Katyett had identified the strike point. A tapir trail led through dying brush leaving the slightest of openings and plenty of room. She moved silently forward, her eyes never wavering from her target. Merrat was two yards to her right, Grafyrre very close on her left. The men had not seen their approach.

Katyett broke cover five yards from the first warrior. He reacted quickly, calling out and bringing his sword to ready. A jaqrui whined past his head, thudding into a tree just behind him. He twitched reflexively. Katyett leapt, bringing her knees to her chest and moving her blades out, tucking her elbows in. The man recovered, tried to raise a guard.

Katyett sliced down with her left blade, beating his sword aside. She slashed the right blade across his face. He ducked but the edge caught the top of his head, thudding into his skull above his ear. He fell sideways. Katyett landed, levering the blade clear. Merrat was sprinting at the other man. A third blinked into view from absolutely nowhere. He was ten paces away, his back to a tree. His arms and mouth were moving.

‘Mage!’ shouted Katyett.

She ran at him. He cast. Katyett felt as if she had been hit with a tree trunk. An invisible force caught her in the chest, spinning her aside to tumble into a thorn bush. Birds scattered. The mage moved his arms in sweeping motions. Brush and branch were bent and broken, flattened and crushed in the path of the casting. Trees shuddered.

‘Get beside him,’ Katyett called, moving again. ‘Graf, move behind trees.’

Merrat and the other warrior had squared up. He was a quick swordsman but he would not be quick enough. Blade and dagger were held in either hand. Merrat chose two short blades. She fenced easily. The man would not know of course that her deadliest weapons were her feet.

Grafyrre was tracking left. The mage drew in his arms, trying to watch them both. From the right, more movement. Another pair of warriors coming in. Presumably there was another mage with them. The movement was mirrored the other side, behind Grafyrre.

‘Watch your rear, Graf. Left flank pair on the way too.’

The mage in front of her punched out his arms again. Katyett was ready, ducking behind a thick banyan trunk. The mage repeated the move, thrusting out towards Grafyrre this time. Katyett moved in.

‘Keep him guessing,’ said Grafyrre. ‘I—’

Grafyrre was projected forward to slam into the ground not three yards from their target mage. Katyett stared left. Two warriors flanking another mage. Advancing fast. Grafyrre was stunned, unable to get up.

‘Merrat, to me. Quickly.’

Katyett dodged behind another tree. The casting rattled its branches and dislodged leaf, twig and Tual’s denizens by the dozen. Katyett dived right. The mage tried to track her movement. The trio of enemies were nearly on Grafyrre. Katyett dropped a blade, took out a jaqrui and threw it. The blade whispered through the air, carving into the gut of one of the soldiers.

Grafyrre was moving but groggy. The mage drew in his arms, meaning to crush Graf with his casting. He smiled at Katyett. He died with the smile still stamped on his face, Merrat’s blade tearing out his throat.

‘Merrat, behind. Take the others.’

Katyett checked Grafyrre and stood in front of him, facing the two humans. Mage and soldier. The mage held his casting close. The soldier moved warily, sword held out, gripped in both hands. Neither of them wanted to die. Both knew Grafyrre was vulnerable and she couldn’t take them both at once.

The humans split, the mage to the left, warrior to the right. The mage was looking for clear space to push out his casting again. Around the next tree and he would have clear line of sight. Katyett followed him with her eyes while keeping a blade pointing at the swordsman. She could hear fighting from close behind her. Merrat had found the others. Katyett made her choice.

She passed her blade to her right hand. In the same move Katyett grabbed a jaqrui and threw it at the soldier. She dived over the prone form of Grafyrre, rolled to her feet and stabbed up. The mage gasped as the blade split his groin and buried in his gut.

Katyett turned and dived back, leaving her blade where it was. The jaqrui had missed. The soldier was running at Grafyrre. Katyett dragged a knife from her belt. She was going to be a heartbeat too late. The warrior raised his blade to strike down. Katyett dived across Grafyrre, meaning to take the blow. It never came.

Katyett heard a thud. She turned her head. It was the sound of the warrior slumping to his knees. His weapon fell from his hands. He stared at nothing, blood flooding from his mouth and over his chest. He reached towards his back and fell to his side.

Behind him, another figure stood. Katyett stared at him. He reached out a hand and she took it, allowing him to help her stand. Katyett took her hand back. She swallowed.

‘Hello, Katyett,’ said Takaar.

Chapter 35

Grieving for time lost is a task with no end. Do not begin it in the first place.

Katyett had to get her mind and body into some form of order. She turned away from Takaar, from her shock at seeing him standing there and the shock of his appearance. Dishevelled, hollow-eyed but still him. Still so powerful and beautiful. She looked down at Grafyrre and helped him to a sitting position.

‘Ummm. Graf. Anything broken?’ she asked, a tremor in her voice. She was desperate to turn to check if Takaar was a mirage but forced herself to focus on her Tai. ‘Anything twisted?’

Grafyrre shook his head. ‘Just a few bruises.’

‘Good. Take your time getting up. He is here.’

‘He?’ asked Grafyrre. He looked at Katyett and knew.

Katyett turned. Auum handed her two blades and a jaqrui. All hastily cleaned. Katyett nodded her thanks and stowed her weapons, studiously avoiding Takaar’s gaze. She had no idea what to say or what to do. But she couldn’t just ignore him where he stood, waiting for her.

‘Your skill and bravery are even finer than I remember,’ said Takaar, his face solemn, his stance awkward. He handed his blade to Auum, who cleaned it on the cloak of a dead human. ‘I’m glad Yniss has spared you to lead the TaiGethen.’

Katyett flew at Takaar, cannoning into him and bearing him to the ground, where she knelt astride him, shaking him by the collars of his tatty leather.