Elves: Once Walked With Gods (51 page)

Grafyrre’s nod was curt and his eyes held the passion of the wronged. He turned to the elves and began to talk.

Garan knelt beside the body of the elf and turned her burned, wrecked face to the rain. He rubbed at his stubble and sucked in his bottom lip.

‘We got one then,’ said Keller, landing behind him and dismissing the spell at his back.

‘No,’ said Garan. ‘We barely even nicked one of them. This one they brought with them. It’s got Ystormun’s sick signature all over it. She must have been important.’

Garan stood and turned back. Soldiers were filling the space around him.

‘No one touches this elf,’ he said. ‘No one moves her; no one pisses on her body; no one takes anything from her. Do I make myself clear? Good. Pass the word. I will be checking back.’

‘What’s that all about?’ asked Keller.

‘Just a hunch,’ said Garan. ‘Tell you later.’

Keller shrugged. ‘Whatever you say. Do you think they can do it? What Ystormun says they want to do?’

‘I think that if the TaiGethen really put their minds to it, they could do pretty much anything they want. Their problem is there aren’t enough of them.’

Garan turned to head to Shorth. The blackened walls and the smoking ruins of temples surrounding them saddened him. The elves had destroyed enough of it themselves. They hardly needed the help of men.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Keller. ‘Action’s this way.’

Garan didn’t bother turning to look at Keller. ‘I don’t think so. I’m a soldier. I’m not a murderer of unarmed civilians. I will have no part in the massacre. Why would I want to watch the helpless be slaughtered?’

‘It didn’t seem to worry you in the Park of Tual.’

‘They were agitators, problems to be dealt with. What we have left now are those desiring only peace. Why would I want them dead?’

‘Because they’re only elves and this is the moment when we assure victory and compliance.’

Now Garan turned and he was surprised at the contempt that he felt for Keller. Mixed with pity that his sight was so short.

‘I thought more of you. But you’re just a lackey to the mage lords. You know what should be worrying you is where this power of his comes from and why it’s so different from yours. One day you’ll need to be sure you’re standing on the right side of the conflict.’

‘What conflict?’

Garan chuckled. ‘Don’t take the piss. You’re not that naive. You know the tension in Triverne. You know there’s a struggle coming. The six are on one side. Every other mage in the circle is on the other. Has it really never occurred to you why Ystormun wants control here so quickly? Look at the resources. Look at the power they represent. One day, and it may not be for a hundred years, Balaian will fight Balaian for this place.’

‘And what will you do in the meantime?’ Keller’s face dripped his scepticism. ‘Keep your head down or resign your commission?’

‘I doubt Ystormun accepts resignations with any grace, do you? No, Keller, I expect when I detail my men to shovel the ashes of the innocents away from the carcasses of their homes, I’ll be thinking of heading into the forest and taking my chances with the TaiGethen. What about you?’

The earth rumbled underfoot. Flames spat hundreds of feet into the sky. There was a concerted groan and a thundering crash of timbers. Detonations echoed away into the clearing sky.

‘It begins,’ said Keller.

‘It certainly does.’

Chapter 41

The TaiGethen need no shield behind which to cower, only the blessing of Yniss.

The TaiGethen ran. Apposans were with each of the three groups Grafyrre had detailed to seek and release, if they could, Gyalan, Ixii and Cefan prisoners. They did not know how they could achieve what Takaar desired but they did know they had to try. It was what the TaiGethen existed to do.

Auum ran with the cells closing on the museum. Pelyn had made a promise to Methian that she would try and help the Gyalans. And that was despite what had happened to a young Al-Arynaar at their hands just a few days before. This was not the time, Grafyrre had said, to be bothered by thread animosity. Elf could kill elf later, that was their right. It was not the right of humans.

They headed for the lights that bordered the quarter of the city where the Gyalans had made their homes for centuries. They were weavers, potters, artisans of all types. Famed for the verve of their creations and the flair of their construction. And now within moments of being dealt a potentially fatal blow. They were not an overtly fertile thread. They could not afford to lose such numbers from their stock.

Auum and Marack flanked a pale and shaking Takaar. Every pace brought a grunt of exertion. Every breath was pained and deliberate. He was not going to be of great use in a fight. Through the dark streets of Old Millers they came. Pelyn ran with them. Grafyrre and Merrat too. Thrynn and Corsaar guarded the Apposans. Ulysan brought up the rear. They were forty-five in all. Auum expected them all to die.

‘Remember it’ll be chaos,’ managed Takaar. ‘Use it. These soldiers need order. Take it from them.’

The museum of Hausolis itself was the centrepiece of the quarter. Houses bordered it on all sides of a square that saw celebrations every year on the anniversary of the closing of the gateway. Other days, markets and itinerant performers used the space as their own. Other streets ran away to Old Millers, down to Mural and Glade and towards the spice market.

They rounded a corner into a street lined with torches. Swordsmen were patrolling and there were mages in groups along its length. The street let out into the museum square at the other end. Here it was houses and shops on both sides. A place where normal people lived. Every house was barred shut. Every shutter was closed and secured from the outside.

Grafyrre made a hand signal. Cells of TaiGethen climbed walls either side of the street. He and Merrat ran on. Auum and Marack moved ahead of Takaar. Belatedly, the guards saw them, pointed and shouted for help while backing away towards their comrades.

Mages turned. Heads were bowed.

‘Apposans to every house!’ called Merrat. ‘Get them away towards Olbeck. Shove them, push them. Anything.’

Auum ran to the rhythmic sound of doors being smashed by axes. To the sound of screams and urgent shouts. To anger and fear.

‘Target the mages,’ ordered Grafyrre.

Two mages lifted their heads and spread their hands.

‘Doorways.’

Merrat’s shout triggered the street to clear. TaiGethen and Apposan sheltered in doorways, crashed through timbers into houses and dived into shutters, shattering wood. Countless thousands of shards of ice flew along the street. A fine mesh to flay flesh from bones, to strip away life in an instant.

Apposans pushed fleeing Gyalan civilians to the ground. Sacrificed their own bodies to save those they had released. The hail of ice came on a howling wind that cracked timber and widened the cracks in stone and tile. Auum heard the whisper of feet above him.

Abruptly, the castings were exhausted. TaiGethen ran back out on to the streets, leaving terrified Gyalans behind them - clutching each other, waiting for the Apposans to see them to safety. Auum checked Takaar and glanced outside. TaiGethen dropped from the rooftops. Mages died.

Auum sprinted down the centre of the street. Marack was at his shoulder, Takaar a little way behind. Merrat and Grafyrre moved past them. Soldiers squared up. Above and left, Thrynn chased along their flank. More mages were preparing to cast.

Auum thrashed into the shaky human barrier moments after Grafyrre sank his blade into the midriff of a scared soldier. Auum’s fist cracked into his target’s nose. He kicked down at the enemy’s knee, taking him off balance, and rammed his blade into the man’s side, butchering vital organs. Blood sluiced onto the ground.

Takaar barrelled into another, wrapping his arms around the man’s trunk and bearing him down. The two of them rolled. Takaar came up looking a little dazed. The man had dropped his weapon. He opted to punch. Takaar caught his fist in one hand and straight-fingered into the man’s throat with his other.

Auum ran on. Thrynn and his cell pounded to the edge of their rooftop and dived off. Below them, mages readied to cast. TaiGethen engulfed them.

‘Straight to the museum,’ said Takaar. ‘They’ll want to take it—’

Takaar stumbled and fell, clutching his head and screaming. Auum slithered to a stop, Marack by him. The TaiGethen faltered.

‘No,’ said Takaar, grinding the words from locked jaws. ‘Go. It’s coming. Help them.’

Auum pushed back to his feet.

‘The museum. Now. Get it open.’

TaiGethen and Apposan ran. They burst out of the street and onto the museum square. Pelyn was there by Auum, her feet slapping on the cobbles. There was a ring of soldiers around the grand building, and the lines of the Tul-Kenerit which it mimicked brought unwanted memories to Auum’s mind. Beyond the museum, the Path of Yniss danced with light. The human army was coming.

Torchlight washed the square. There were mages overhead, shouting orders. Soldiers were turning, moving away from their mages, forming a defensive line. From the north, a massive explosion rumbled through the ground and flames lit up the ocean sky. Auum swore. Even he could feel that in the pit of his stomach. He prayed as he ran that his brothers had been fast enough to beat it.

This time, the mages didn’t turn. They were focused on the museum. Auum could see arms stretched out in effort. Limbs shook with exertion. Bodies trembled. A soft green light began to grow in the sky above. It coalesced, brightening quickly.

‘Forget the warriors,’ shouted Grafyrre. ‘Two cells up and over. Apposans to ready. Pelyn, stand and face.’

Auum picked up his pace. He flashed across the square, feeling an increasing weight on his chest as the light grew and deepened. The casting was pulsating. Flashes of brown light could be seen within it. It was like one of the orbs only so much bigger. It would be seen right across the city.

Auum threw a jaqrui at the nearest soldier. He threw it high. The soldier ducked. Auum planted his right foot and sprang up. He tucked in his body, rolled in the air and came down on his left foot, already moving towards the first mage.

Auum took his sword in both hands and smashed it into the mage’s lower back. The man pitched forward, dead before he hit the ground. Auum turned left, jabbed the blade into another’s throat. Blood spurted out. The mage collapsed to his knees. Auum turned right. Marack beheaded one mage, spun and kicked out at the head of another, catching him in the temple and sending him sprawling. Merrat finished him, Above them, the casting guttered and blinked out.

Auum twisted and faced the soldiers. Pelyn and the Apposans were already on them with the balance of the TaiGethen. Above, the casting had begun to grow again. Grafyrre called for more to attack the casters.

‘Right!’ cried Thrynn. ‘Force moving in on our right.’

Hundreds of men, backed by mages in the air and on the ground, poured into the square from the Path of Yniss. Auum cursed.

‘To the doors. Apposans to the doors!’ Pelyn shouted her order and led them across the open space to the rear doors of the museum.

They were barred and chained. Apposans fell on them with their axes, hacking and slashing at timber and steel. Sparks flew. Timbers began to shatter and crack.

‘TaiGethen, defend the door.’

So like before. So like ten years ago. TaiGethen made a thin barrier in front of the Apposans. Pelyn came back to stand with Auum. Soldiers were filling the square, cutting off their way back towards Old Millers and relative safety. Back there in the street, Takaar still lay helpless.

Above their heads, the green globe grew and grew. It rotated. Lightning spat within it. Mages they would never reach controlled it. Brought their casting closer and closer to fruition. Behind, Apposan axes hammered at the doors. TaiGethen took down more mages. Auum could hear the screaming of the Gyalans within and the shouts of their rescuers for calm. They would get none.

Ahead of Auum the soldiers had stopped moving in and were even backing up. Every eye was on the casting. None on the elves in front of them.

‘Get that door down,’ urged Grafyrre.

He stood to Auum’s left, his eyes burning, his face ashen with the grief he fought to contain. The door went down. Gyalans, urged by Apposans, poured out behind the TaiGethen. The sky went silent. The pressure on Auum’s ears built to a painful crescendo. Something was wrong. Auum glanced back and up. The globe was wobbling. Fire lashed from its sides. Lightning speared down. Auum followed its trail to where it buried itself in the heart of a casting mage. He heard shouting. Humans. Desperate and afraid.

‘Run!’ yelled Auum. ‘Run!’

The TaiGethen broke their line and ran, forming a cordon around their Gyalan charges. The globe plunged down onto the museum. Men began running, scattering. Green light flooded the museum square. There was a sucking at the air. Wind pushed into Auum’s face. He heard the shattering of a thousand tiles and then a dull bass thump.

‘Down!’

Auum threw himself forward, hit the ground and rolled onto his back. He had to watch. Had to see.

Gyalans were still pouring out of the doors. Apposans literally throwing them into the square. Around him, most had taken his lead and fallen prone. Green light grew behind the open doors, deep within the museum. There was a crackle as of lightning buried in clouds. Next heartbeat, the museum exploded.

The walls either side of the doors bulged and disintegrated, hurling stone and timber hundreds of yards across the square. Flame blew through the open doors. Gyalan, Apposan, TaiGethen - anyone standing in its arc was gone in a blink. Bodies turned to ashes. Elf and man still standing were picked up and cast aside on the wind of the detonation. Bodies twisted and flipped as they bounced. Limbs out of control. Blood smeared the square.

Above, the roof of the museum was spat into the night sky. Lumps of masonry and wood, fragments of exhibits and what might have been bodies were thrown high and clear. The echoes of the explosion slammed around Auum’s head. He stared up. Spiralling high, shapes tumbled end over end. Some small, some big, the size of oxen and carts.