Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen (24 page)

‘Guts?’ he asked.

Hynd managed a nod and ground out a shudder of exquisite pain. His head began to ache horribly, pounding so hard he could barely hear what the guard said next.

‘. . . iver.
Hund
. . . your feet.’

The guard held out a hand to help him up. Hynd nodded and waved to the man to give him a moment to gather himself. The cramp had eased ever so slightly, until he merely felt as though he’d swallowed slivers of glass, or perhaps an entire longsword. Sideways. He reached up his hand but the guard wasn’t looking at him any more.

‘Are you—’

There was a vibration through the ground and a rustling of the leaf litter before the alarm ward exploded, flooding the immediate area with light and sounding a discordant alarm which sheared into Hynd’s head. A panther battered into the guard taking him beyond Hynd’s field of vision.

Hynd forgot his pain just for a moment and scrambled up to run back to the river. But another cramp stole his strength before he reached it and he had to lean against a tree for support. He heard a sound through the pounding in his head and opened his eyes to see a panther crouched in front of him. The animal leapt at his chest, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground. It moved to bite down on his neck but stopped, jutted its muzzle forward and sniffed his mouth.

Hynd was frozen. He had no idea what it was waiting for. His life was over and at least this would be a release from the awful pains inside. The panther growled deep in its throat, drew back and sprang away, roaring what sounded like a warning.

Hynd rolled over and dragged himself back to his feet. He could see the shapes of elves in the shadows. The light from the alarm ward was dimming and illuminated a few bodies and a single writhing man left alive, much like himself. Hynd vomited again, his muscles straining so hard he wasn’t sure they’d ever relax. But they did and, using every tree and branch for support, he stumbled towards the river, aware that he was crying incoherently for help, and crying for relief from the pain.

No one ran past him towards the picket, and that was wrong. He could hear people shouting but it was coming from way off to his right, and when he burst out of the forest he was confronted by a scene befitting a sick house, not an army at rest. Everywhere he looked men were lying on the ground or kneeling, clutching their heads or stomachs. The stench of shit and vomit was overpowering and the cries of the stricken chimed with his own.

Hynd searched for Jeral, finding him bent double over the river, wiping puke from his mouth and breathing hard. He dropped to his knees by his friend.

‘Jeral,’ he managed.

‘We’ve been poisoned,’ said Jeral. ‘Fuck it hurts.’

‘I know,’ gasped Hynd. ‘But it’s saving us too.’

Jeral looked at him. The whites of his eyes were shot through with red and his brow was covered in sweat. He lost his balance and jammed a hand into the dirt to steady himself.

‘What are you . . . talking about?’

‘Panther. It wouldn’t touch me. Took one sniff and moved away.’

Even through his agony, Jeral managed a smile, and his eyes sparkled just for a moment.

‘Don’t think that was the poison, Hynd.’ He gasped and retched violently, green bile dribbling from his mouth. ‘Help is coming. Not everyone affected.’

Hynd whimpered at the tightening of his latest cramp. He tried to keep a count while it gripped him but couldn’t even concentrate on that. He heard the sound of running feet nearby and a heavily accented voice cut across his self-pity.

‘Allow us to ease your pain.’

Jeral forced himself upright, swayed and put a hand on his sword hilt.

‘Hynd. Get behind me.’

Then Jeral fell.

Serrin brought the ClawBound to the sanctuary of the Mallios Caves a few hours to the south of Aryndeneth. They had not all come. Serrin had no certain idea how many pairs ran the forest but it was more than those who had been harassing the humans on their march along the River Ix.

Some had descended so far into the realm of Tual that they would not run with any other ClawBound. Others sought seclusion for their own reasons and still more had chosen to cleanse the forest at Tolt Anoor or Deneth Barine. And, of course, Serrin didn’t know if the entire calling of Silent Priests had chosen the way of the ClawBound or not. Faith dictated that they should have, but some might still carry the message of Yniss in the old way.

At least all those who gathered within the cool seclusion of the caves recognised him and his right to call himself their guide. Fourteen pairs occupied much of the rough, cool floor space. No other of Tual’s creatures used this place except in the direst of need. This was a refuge for the ClawBound.

Serrin sat with his panther close, as did they all. He looked around at his brothers, flaring his nostrils at Sikaant and Resserrak, with whom he had run during the years after Ysundeneth fell. Others whose former names he remembered were Ayrol, Tamoor and Venras. The others were dim memories but he knew their names would come in time.

‘You are all here and so we are stronger in the eyes of Yniss and Tual,’ said Serrin. ‘And here we must stay until we can identify our role.’

‘We cleanse,’ said Resserrak. ‘We purify the forest.’

‘Yes,’ said Serrin. ‘But too many of us have forgotten the root of our faith. We are not alone in the forest. We must work with others who share our desire.’

There was a collective hiss at his words. Serrin snarled back and his panther’s hackles rose.

‘It is they who have brought us to this state of despair,’ said Venras. ‘They cannot help us.’

‘They
are
helping us. Without them we cannot prevail.’

‘I will not let them choose our path. They do not have the faith,’ said Venras.

‘They will not. But we have seen their actions against the enemy. Their poison is clever, but it poses a risk to us and even more to our Claws. We have freed over three hundred elves. Now it is time to defend what we have.’

‘That is not cleansing,’ grunted Resserrak.

‘You would prefer desecration?’ asked Sikaant, moving with his Claw to stand by Serrin.

‘I do not understand,’ said Venras.

‘But you should,’ said Serrin. ‘And that is a sign that we should all consider to what level we have descended. Is it the inevitable end to our calling that we become true denizens of Tual and shake off the embrace of Yniss? I do not think so.’

‘It is our natural state,’ said Resserrak.

Serrin shook his head. ‘No. It is your base desires alone that lead you down that path: the thrill of the hunt and the taste of an enemy’s blood. But we are not animals. We are the bridge between the elves and Tual’s denizens. It is a narrow way and we have strayed.’

‘What would you have us do?’ asked Tamoor.

‘Think like an elf once more and outthink man. Tell me, if you were a human, what would you do now?’

Serrin’s question was met by a blank silence. Resserrak glowered at him and his Claw was growling, tense and angry. Others responded as though they’d not understood a word he said. Or perhaps they just didn’t care.

‘Any who wish to return to the forest and run alone, you have my blessing in your work.’

None of them moved, not even Resserrak. Perhaps they simply did not know what to say. But there was something in the atmosphere of the cave that changed. Panthers began to move, stretch their jaws and stare deeply into one another’s eyes. The hands of bound elves moved unconsciously to their Claw’s heads.

One by one the pairs rose and filed past Serrin, bowing their heads in reverence. Resserrak paused and laid a hand on Serrin’s chest.

‘We all know where to go.’

‘Tighten it further,’ said Auum.

The tourniquet was tied around Elyss’ thigh just above the knee. Ulysan turned the stick thrust through it and she grunted.

‘Where the hell is Merrat? I need the uncaria quickly or this is going to spread.’ Auum looked into the shadows of the forest and back to Elyss. ‘Keep your breathing steady. Let’s not pump too much of this stuff around.’

Elyss smiled though her face was pale and shone with sweat. ‘It didn’t hurt until you put the tourny on.’

‘Liar.’

Auum dabbed at the dwindling supply of tea tree oil in the warm log pot sitting on the embers of a small fire. He turned back to Elyss’ wound. The crocodile had snagged her calf with a claw and flooded it with bacteria as it had swum past her. Piranha had taken bites from the wound as she’d swum to the shore. Throughout the follow-up attack later that night on the humans succumbing to the poison, she’d said nothing of it. She had killed with customary efficiency though she must have been in acute pain.

It had not been until the following morning that she had displayed any symptoms of infection. Now, in addition to the problem with the wound itself, she was developing a fever.

‘You know better,’ said Auum. ‘You cannot afford to stay silent.’

‘Stop fussing,’ said Elyss. ‘We only had the one chance to attack. And look at the damage we did.’

‘And I’m still laughing that they think the poison has finished its work,’ said Ulysan.

‘I’ll celebrate with you when Elyss is on the mend,’ said Auum. ‘Concentrate.’

Auum smeared the tea tree oil over the wound. It was angry and red, torn at the edges where the fish had bitten, deep and dark where the crocodile’s claw had stabbed her and raked backwards.

Elyss winced. ‘That means it’s working, right?’ she said.

‘And that there is something in there to fight,’ said Auum. He smoothed his free hand across her forehead. ‘You’re getting hot.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Elyss.

‘Keep on thinking that.’

Auum glanced up at Ulysan. The big TaiGethen looked anxious and Auum couldn’t give him any particular comfort. He placed his hand over Ulysan’s.

‘I’ll take the tourniquet. Get the other pot ready. Merrat will be back soon.’ Auum smiled down at Elyss. ‘Looking forward to your soup? Uncaria is magnificently awful to drink.’

‘I thought you were making a poultice.’

‘As well.’

Merrat reappeared from the forest, Nyann with him. He squatted by Auum and failed to disguise his concern at what he saw.

‘I’ll prepare the roots and vine,’ he said. ‘Ysset is hunting down the vismia we need.’

‘Good. Thank you.’

It took an age, or it felt like it. Merrat and Ulysan were quick, cleaning and cutting the uncaria and adding it to boiling river water, but the wait for the vital liquor to form was interminable. All the while, Auum watched Elyss fall into her fever. The tourniquet could not stop the infected blood making its way through her body. The tea tree oil was not strong enough to combat the disease at source.

‘Keep your eyes open,’ said Auum. ‘Talk to me about something.’

Elyss’ eyes fluttered. ‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Auum, and he released the tourniquet to give her some relief from the pain. ‘Not much point in that now, is there? Tell me, what is it you pray for today?’

A smile played across Elyss’ lips and she licked them with a dry tongue. Auum squeezed water into the side of her mouth which she sucked in greedily.

‘I pray that whatever poison runs through my body does not stop the joy of what I could feel happening yesterday.’

Auum frowned. ‘And what is that?’

‘It is my time, Auum.’ Elyss’ eyes spilled tears and she gripped his hand in hers. He could feel the heat of her fever through her palms. ‘I so want to live to know the glory.’

Auum found a cool cloth and mopped her brow. She was going down so fast.

‘Stay with me,’ whispered Auum. ‘What is the glory? See it, believe it and you will know it.’

Elyss spoke but Auum couldn’t hear her. He glanced over at Merrat, who spread his arms.

‘Soon, Auum. I can’t rush this. Not enough is as bad as none at all.’

‘I know,’ said Auum. ‘Come on, Elyss. Tell me again, don’t be shy. Shout it out. What is the glory?’

‘Wh . . . what every Ynissul
iad
. . . desires.’

Auum gasped. ‘Yniss preserve you, Elyss. Merrat, tell me you’re ready.’

‘Almost.’

Elyss’ head had fallen to one side. She was unconscious. Auum tapped her cheek lightly but there was no response.

‘It has to be now, Merrat, she’s slipping. Shorth is waiting.’

Merrat came over with a water skin. ‘Raise her head. We’ll have to do this for her.’

Elyss was limp, her fever so intense that just touching her skin was uncomfortable. The infection had gathered strength incredibly quickly and Auum prayed that she had not kept her silence for an hour too long. He had an arm under the back of her neck and with his other hand tried to open her mouth, pulling on her lower jaw.

‘Ulysan, I need you,’ said Auum. ‘Work her throat; don’t let her spit this up. Gently, Merrat.’

With as much care as he had time for, Merrat poured the decoction of uncaria into the side of her mouth, a few drops at a time. Her swallow reflex was still there and Auum relaxed his hold on her jaw to let her work the liquid down her throat with Ulysan’s tender help.