Rise of the TaiGethen e-2

by James Barclay

  More orders rang out along the enemy column. They readied to move.

  ‘Hit them,’ said Grafyrre.

  A howler monkey call carried along the valley from the northern end — Auum was signalling the retreat to rally points — but Grafyrre couldn’t let it end like this. They’d barely laid a blade on the enemy. Only Beeth’s great trees had done any real damage and even then not on the scale they’d planned. All his work, all his effort; Grafyrre would not let it be for nothing.

  Grafyrre ran at the army, Allyne on his heels and Kerryn mirroring his attack. In five more paces he’d be beyond cover and into the mess of logs, mud and blood.

  ‘A quick hit and away!’ he called. ‘I’ll take the old men.’

  Grafyrre stormed down to the floor of the Scar. Men were still rejoining the column, shaken by the traps that had claimed their brethren and careless in their haste. Grafyrre heard warnings shouted out. Isolated soldiers began to turn. Allyne threw a jaqrui which sliced into his target’s thigh. Grafyrre leapt feet first, catching the same man on the side of his head.

  Grafyrre landed, not looking behind him, bouncing back up and dragging a jaqrui from his pouch. He threw, only to see it bounce off a magical shield and fly harmlessly away back over his head. Allyne was at his shoulder. The Tai warrior hacked to his right, felling a second enemy who had been too slow to regain the column.

  Grafyrre drew both blades and charged into the midst of the humans. Kerryn crashed in beside him. Grafyrre kicked out straight, his foot thudding into a human gut. His momentum brought him forward, one blade across his body to block a riposte, his other overhead, splitting the man’s skull through his leather cap.

  Gore spattered across the column. Men bunched together. Soldiers moved quickly towards the TaiGethen while mages backed away. Allyne took the sword hand from one and snapped a roundhouse kick into the head of another, sending him spinning into the stream and taking two more with him.

  Ahead, Grafyrre could see his targets. One was white with fear, a second had a bottle in one hand and his sword in the other. The third was on his feet roaring instructions but no one was listening. Grafyrre blocked a thrust to his left flank and backhanded his free blade up into the face of his attacker. The man went down in a spray of blood.

  Behind him, a mage opened his hands and cast.

  ‘Down!’ Grafyrre yelled.

  He dropped and rolled, his blades out and carving at the space into which he came. He connected with the mage a heartbeat too late. A low hum hurt his ears and, behind him, he heard Kerryn scream. On his way back to his feet, Grafyrre saw her flying backwards through the air, her body smashing against a banyan and flopping, broken to the ground.

  ‘Break off!’ called Allyne.

  ‘No,’ spat Grafyrre. ‘Not yet.’

  Soldiers were moving around to flank and trap them. Another spell was cast. Flame roared out from the column and Grafyrre heard an elven scream. Above the chaos, howler monkey calls sounded again. This time, their import and their meaning penetrated Grafyrre’s rage.

  He uppercut his right-hand blade into a mage’s chest, crushed the kneecap of a soldier with a reverse kick and fled the enemy.

  ‘Get to cover,’ Grafyrre shouted as he ran. ‘Get to cover!’

  Charging Apposans all but ran him down. He flung himself out of their path and gaped. Where had they come from? Howling obscenities and promises of death, they moved to the attack, their eyes fixed on their enemies, axes, swords and clubs held firmly in hand.

  ‘No!’ shouted Grafyrre. ‘Break off, they’ll-’

  Spells screamed out. Fire, ice and pure magical force slammed into the Apposans. Elves shrieked as their skin was flayed from their bodies or scorched to the bone. Some, like Kerryn before them, were borne back to be crushed against the trees they so cherished. A few managed to escape, running blindly back up the slopes, heedless of their route, so careless that one, who thought himself safe, was skewered by a waiting trap.

  Grafyrre ran too, his rage centred firmly on himself. Allyne had survived but Borrune and Kerryn’s Tai were gone. Apposans had been slaughtered like animals and the enemy’s cheers were the final humiliation. He had failed. Worse, he had led precious survivors to their deaths.

  Grafyrre ran on, contemplating his words to Auum and his prayers to Yniss.

  All the way down the slope, they had sounded the rally point call, and all they could do now was hope it was heeded. Auum, Elyss and Ulysan running at the head of an Apposan force of forty elves had broken cover right at the base of the Scar and thundered into the rear section of the enemy army.

  Jaqruis had bounced from the magical shield but it had not protected the soldiers from close-up blade, fist, axe or foot. Their targets had been slightly isolated from the main column by two log falls that had burst through the magical protections. Bodies lay torn and twisted among the logs and the path was completely blocked, forcing soldiers who were prepared to risk it to travel upslope, through the traps.

  Auum knew he was venting his fury but found he had no desire to mitigate the extra risk that posed to him. With his eye ever darting to Elyss, who fought effortlessly, he pressed his attack into the centre of the group of some two hundred soldiers and mages while the Apposans surged in at the flanks.

  ‘Push left,’ called Ulysan. ‘Break through them.’

  ‘Pushing left!’ returned Boltha.

  Auum saw the old Apposan duck a wild sword swing like an elf a third his age and bury his axe in the man’s skull. The Apposans with him roared their approval and pushed harder. Auum looked beyond them to the main column. Soldiers were breaking away to come to the aid of their fellows. Time was short. He needed these humans broken and running now.

  ‘Follow me.’

  Auum moved forward again. He ran three paces, swords in hand, and jumped high. Bringing his legs up tight to his chest, he cleared the human front line and cycled his arms, feeling his swords bite into flesh. He landed behind the line, in a confusion of mages and soldiers, his feet slapping into the stream.

  Auum rose from his crouch, already spinning, blades out to lace cuts into legs, torsos, arms and faces. Ulysan landed a few feet away. Elyss turned a roll over Auum’s head and landed with her legs astride a mage’s neck, breaking it as she twisted down to the ground. Rise of the TaiGethen 197

  Humans were scattering all around them. Auum thrashed a blade into the back of a mage who had turned to run; another spun towards Auum. The TaiGethen raised his blade to strike but a split appeared down the mage’s face — Ulysan’s work. Auum moved in the direction of the swamp and the enemy in his path turned and fled.

  ‘Keep them moving,’ called Boltha, leading his Apposans in the charge. He paused by Auum. ‘Go. We’ll see them into the jaws of Tual. You need to regroup your people. We’ll harass the humans as long as they remain here but we can’t stop them, can we? They’ve learned.’

  ‘Don’t risk yourselves. Get your people to safety,’ said Auum.

  ‘We’ll rejoin you at Katura.’

  ‘No. Disappear. Your people have done enough. We’ll find you when it’s over.’

  Boltha nodded, turned and ran. Auum glanced at the enemy moving towards them. Elyss and Ulysan were by him.

  ‘Auum?’

  ‘Let’s see who we can save.’

  Chapter 24

  The fight between the Tuali and Beethan gangs was a statement. Made on market day, in the heart of our lives. Who really runs Katura? Who can hope to stop them? The people look to me, and I am not sure I can save them.

  The Diaries of Pelyn, Governor of Katura

  Auum’s run along the mid-slopes of the Scar was the most desolate of all his long years.

  Apposans, those few who had survived, were scattered across the higher slopes or had already fled back into the Haliath Vale, heading for the rally points. Auum supposed that was good news, of a sort, as they’d responded to the calls to fall back. But that was where the good news ended.

  Bodies litter
ed the slopes. Burned, blackened by frost or crushed almost beyond recognition. Spells were still playing into the forest, preventing the collection of the dead for reclamation. Auum could see foliage flattened by magical force where mages played their spells in wide arcs, forestalling any fresh efforts to attack.

  Among the Apposans near the centre of the column, Auum saw the broken bodies of Kerryn and her cell. They were too far down the slope to tend to so Auum knelt with Ulysan and Elyss and prayed for their swift reclamation. While they did, they looked down the ruined valley.

  ‘What happened here?’ whispered Elyss.

  ‘They found strength,’ said Ulysan.

  ‘No. They had a plan,’ said Auum.

  The magical shields had repulsed enough of the weight and violence of the log falls to save hundreds of men, and the following, blinding magical response had rendered the ambush force helpless against the killing spells that came next.

  ‘How can we defeat this power?’ asked Elyss, her voice tremulous.

  She placed a hand on her stomach and Auum covered it with one of his.

  ‘We cannot lose hope, not now,’ said Auum.

  A tear spilled from Elyss’ eye and splashed on Auum’s hand. ‘How can we not lose hope? This was the day when we were to defeat them, but instead they will march on almost unhindered while we count our dead. How many TaiGethen have we lost? My heart quails at the thought.’

  ‘We will grieve and we will move on,’ said Ulysan, standing and offering them each a hand to pull them up. ‘Because we have no other choice.’

  Elyss tried to smile and what burst from her lips was a desperate laugh. ‘What do we do, mount another ambush? Look what happened to us. Look!’

  ‘No. We cannot risk this again,’ said Auum. ‘Katura is the only place where elves live in great enough numbers to threaten the invaders.’

  Elyss shook her head. ‘You said if we had to go there to defend our race then the battle was already lost.’

  ‘Then you must prove me wrong. And so must the people of Katura.’ Auum trotted away towards the forward rally point while below the human army resumed its march south. ‘Come on. We need to know what we have left.’

  Praying for the best of news but fearing the worst, Auum led his Tai to meet the remains of the TaiGethen.

  Jeral, Captain of Dead Company, felt ten feet tall and invincible. They had lost in excess of four hundred soldiers and mages in the elves’ failed ambush, but there was not a man walking the valley floor who didn’t realise how much worse it could have been.

  He was receiving personal messages of thanks from individuals in every company. And, in the vanguard, Lockesh had taken a moment to congratulate him on his tactics and organisation while Hynd stared at him with something akin to awe.

  But as the march continued into its second hour after the fight, with mages maintaining a single-skin shield and a moving guard of mana force playing over the lower slopes, a nag was growing in Jeral’s mind.

  ‘How long can we keep the protection up?’ he asked.

  He looked down the column towards where the generals marched. None of them had sent so much as an aide to congratulate him. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised but the worry would not dissipate.

  ‘It’s one of those balancing acts you’re so fond of,’ said Hynd. ‘At this cripple’s pace, the mages can maintain their concentration fairly easily, but stamina will become a problem in a couple of hours and we have little in reserve. By my calculations and your scout reports, that means we will still be in this valley when the castings begin to break down.’

  ‘Advice?’

  ‘Well, my feted captain, I think we have beaten them back far enough that they will not attack us again — today, at least. Keep the shield skin but not all along the column, and drop the mana cones altogether.’

  Jeral smiled. ‘And the mages will rest while the soldiers protect them.’

  Hynd shrugged. ‘Well it’s not as if you’ve had a lot to do today so far.’

  ‘Let’s do it.’

  ‘Captain Jeral.’

  Jeral flinched, he couldn’t help himself. Something about Lockesh’s looming presence did that to a man, even one who was apparently in his favour.

  ‘My Lord Lockesh… twice in one day. I am honoured.’

  Lockesh moved alongside Jeral and waved Hynd back a couple of paces.

  ‘Do not take this as any sign of weakness,’ said Lockesh. ‘But I have enough respect for you to warn you of the consequences of your success. Hynd, disguise our conversation.’

  ‘Immediately, my lord.’

  Jeral sighed and nodded. ‘The silence from my generals has been loud indeed.’

  ‘It is far worse than that,’ said Lockesh when Hynd had completed his casting. His face was hard and cold, his eyes fixed on Jeral while he walked. ‘They positioned themselves in the centre of the army believing it was the best place to survive the slaughter they assumed would be visited upon us here at the head. Now, they are stuck there, humiliated by your success and hearing words of congratulation for you from in front and behind.

  ‘Every man in this valley knows they had nothing to do with your plan and can claim no credit for it beyond putting you in charge and expecting you to die.

  ‘A slighted commander is a dangerous animal, Jeral, and the last thing they want is an unlikely champion rising from the ranks. Loreb has already tried to kill you twice and discredit you once. Now all three of them detest you in equal measure. You will need your friends. Keep them close.’

  ‘And are you a friend, my Lord Lockesh?’

  Lockesh raised his eyebrows and barked a dismissive laugh.

  ‘Hardly, Captain. I am a man who desires to survive, and you currently represent my best chance to achieve that. Should someone supplant you, I will turn my back on you the same instant.’

  ‘Well, that’s honest at least.’

  ‘I am never anything less.’

  Jeral was silent for a moment and Lockesh continued to walk beside him. The rainforest was regaining its energy. Animals and birds were calling again. Monkeys hooted and insects rasped. The order to reduce the weight of spell coverage had passed down the column and Jeral motioned for an increase in speed.

  ‘You think they’ll try to kill me?’ asked Jeral eventually.

  Lockesh chuckled. ‘It is never quite as simple as that.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘Certainly not.’ Lockesh cleared his throat. ‘Our esteemed generals achieved their positions by basking in very public success, not by muddying their own hands with the unpleasantness of career-enhancing murder. At least, they have never been directly associated with one.’

  ‘So…’

  Lockesh clacked his tongue and shook his head. ‘Dear god on a pyre, has Hynd not schooled you in the political machinations of achieving senior command?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Jeral truthfully. ‘But I’m just a soldier. I don’t suppose I listened.’

  Hynd made a noise of complete agreement behind him.

  ‘Then listen to me, and when you have listened consign what I have said to memory and think on what it might mean for you,’ said Lockesh.

  ‘I appreciate your taking the time, my lord,’ said Jeral.

  ‘It is not altruism, it is self-interest, and that should be your first lesson, by the way. The generals are your commanding officers and you may not question their orders, though you have come perilously close to doing that more than once. In any case, you need not worry about being placed on a charge and executed for any trumped-up reason. That would be far too obvious.

  ‘Indeed you could argue that while we are travelling this perilous path, you are safe from any harm directed at you by Loreb. After all, you have proved yourself capable and they, like me, have a keen desire to survive, no?’

  ‘That is what I was thinking, yes,’ said Jeral.

  ‘Hmm. Naive, sadly,’ said Lockesh. ‘Firstly, having seen exactly how to conduct the defence of the army against t
he elves, they will assume, erroneously, that it is simple to replicate. Secondly, they already consider themselves safe. I’m sure it has not escaped your attention that each keeps mages around him tasked to fly him from harm should the need arise.’

  Jeral shrugged. ‘Actually, it seemed quite sensible.’

  ‘And why do you not have the same insurance on your life?’

  ‘Because I will fight and die as a soldier. I am a leader, not a runner.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Lockesh glanced back over his shoulder. ‘And that’s something on which they will utterly rely.’

  ‘So they won’t kill me, they’ll merely put me in positions where I am likely to be killed.’

  ‘Now you’re getting it.’ Lockesh smiled for the first time. ‘And should you manage to make it all the way to this mythical elven city we’re seeking, then you will see how quickly an experienced general can take centre stage when victory seems assured. And how easily a figurehead such as yourself can find himself face down drinking his own blood.’

  ‘You think all three of them are incompetent as leaders, do you?’ asked Jeral.

  ‘I’m walking at the head of the column, not in the middle,’ said Lockesh.

  ‘But leadership is what this army lacks,’ said Jeral, finding himself exasperated and unsurprised in equal measure. ‘Surely I make them look better by doing their bidding and succeeding, don’t I?’

  ‘It depends on your point of view. If you are a genuine career soldier risen to the rank of general, then yes, absolutely. If, however, you are a political animal choosing the army as your route to power in Triverne, or indeed greater Balaia, then above all things you must not be undermined by any under your command. And you, my dear captain, have undermined first Loreb, and then all three of them in very quick order.

  ‘Now you are marked. Accept it. Check your food. Check your boots before you thrust your feet into them. And the moment we are out of this valley and in slightly less dangerous terrain, look behind every order Loreb gives you. None of them will be to the benefit of the army.’