Elfsorrow lotr-1

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Elfsorrow lotr-1 Page 46

by James Barclay


  Hirad sympathised. They would have feared for their lives every heartbeat, and finished the day bruised, deafened, exhausted and guilty that they lived when their friends had died. And worse was to come. It would have to be faced all over again as dawn broke, but with every muscle screaming for rest and the risks as great, if not greater. But for these elves, there was also the fact that they would never have seen such a mass of humanity in one place all trying to kill each other. Never mind their willingness to fight and die for their cause and never mind their skill and mental strength. Nothing prepared you for that first day of mass battle. Nothing.

  They found Rebraal and Auum together, cuts bathed and bound, sitting cross-legged near a fire discussing the day gone and the day to come. As The Raven approached, Ilkar ushering tired elves out of the way to let them sit to talk, Auum looked up, his distaste undisguised and eyeing Hirad with what amounted to contempt. The Unknown put a calming hand on Hirad's shoulder and sat him next to Ilkar, who Rebraal had been plainly happy to see.

  The conversation began, Ilkar translating the elven words.

  'So what brings you here, little brother? We thought you were in the city by now.'

  Ilkar chuckled. 'You know perfectly well why we're here and not in Xetesk. The TaiGethen have recovered the Yniss fragment and we're here to join you. Erienne has to travel with you to aid the binding, and where Erienne goes, The Raven go.'

  That got Auum's attention. His head snapped up and Hirad could see his eyes spearing Ilkar.

  'Wrong,' he said. 'We are going back in tonight to attempt entry into the college itself.'

  'I don't understand,' said Ilkar.

  'What is there not to understand?' said Rebraal. 'We don't have it. And patently neither do you despite your grand words about The Raven's skill. Why else do you think we're still here?'

  'Aeb was in contact with the Soul Tank the day before we were due to raid the college. You remember I explained Protectors to you.'

  'And we fought them all day for very little gain,' said Rebraal. There was a murmur around the fire.

  'Not surprising, really,' said Ilkar. 'The point is, two souls departing the Tank reported they had been killed by TaiGethen who took Yron, the man who holds the thumb.'

  'Which Tai?' demanded Ilkar.

  'I don't know. How could I?'

  'Where was this incident?' Auum was sitting bolt upright now, an expression of anxiety across his face, his hands gripping his thighs.

  'Just outside the west gate of the college, right by the artisans' quarter,' said Ilkar.

  Rebraal and Auum shared a glance. 'Merke,' said the TaiGethen. He looked back to Ilkar. 'They have not reported back here. You are sure about this?'

  Ilkar nodded. 'Absolutely. Protectors are unable to lie.'

  'Then the Xeteskians must have retaken them,' said Rebraal.

  'Not possible,' said Ilkar. 'Aeb would know. They escaped the city early this morning.'

  'They have not returned,' said Auum.

  Ilkar sighed. 'I don't believe it,' he said, turning to The Unknown. 'We've lost it again. Somewhere between here and the college. The Gods only know where it is.'

  'Well, we'll have to search,' said the big warrior. 'Find out where this Tai went in and work back from there.'

  Ilkar posed the question and didn't like the answer.

  'South-west corner,' he relayed. 'Right where the Black Wings are advancing.'

  'Any chance they ran into a patrol?' asked Hirad.

  'It would have to be a big one to stop a TaiGethen cell,' said Ren.

  'How good is this Yron?' asked Rebraal, dropping back into elvish to speak to Auum.

  The TaiGethen snorted, getting his meaning. 'Not good enough.'

  'It doesn't matter anyway, he wanted to find them. It was Yron who stole the thumb from the college. The point is, they must be holed up somewhere, trapped maybe,' said Ilkar. 'Look, this is what we know. Merke's cell got out of the city with Yron and now Xetesk will be looking for them and they have a head start. But coming at them from the south is an army of farmers driven on by Black Wing witch hunters. They are caught in the middle of it somewhere and we have to get them out fast.'

  'We will sweep from here to the coast,' said Auum. 'We will see everything. But first we have to rest. We'll leave before dawn.'

  'You can't do that,' said Ilkar. 'You can't abandon this front entirely. Xetesk will know straight away what you're doing.'

  'Then perhaps these Dordovans we fought for can return us the favour,' said Rebraal. 'Or perhaps you and your Raven. After all, what have you done so far?'

  'Got you here,' said Ilkar. 'And created the conditions for Yron to take the thumb and escape the college. And that's just for starters.'

  'You have some great and better idea, do you?' said Auum, his voice dismissive.

  'Yes, I do,' said Ilkar. 'What you're suggesting is too slow and Xetesk will be able to track you all the way because the land is too open. All it'll lead to is more mass conflict with Xetesk and Black Wings and you'll get no nearer the prize. Do it The Raven's way. Trust me, it'll work.'

  'What do you have in mind?' Rebraal looked at Ilkar hard. 'We're dropping like flies here. We need speed. We're losing more to the Sorrow than to the Protectors.'

  'Just be ready to leave when we come for you. You and Auum's Tai. And a ClawBound pair if you can get a message to one. Get some rest.'

  'What do you have that we have not?' sneered Auum.

  'Horses, men who know the land and mages that can fly,' said Ilkar shortly. 'Any of those skills of yours?'

  'Ilkar-'

  'No, Rebraal, he has to hear this,' said Ilkar, standing and looking down at Auum, who looked ready to strike, his face grey and angry in the firelight. 'The Raven are doing this for me and for you. For all the elves. We're doing it because it is right and, believe me, there are other things we could be doing. Like saving our own land from destruction for a start.

  'But we're doing this first because The Raven would do anything for me. That's what being one of us is all about and it is something you, Auum, should understand. So get your head out of the trees, respect those that deserve it and join in. Because we are your best hope of recovering the thumb. Believe it.'

  'Your confidence in your ability is remarkable,' said Auum.

  Ilkar leant in very close. 'That is because we are the best. So watch and learn. This is our land.'

  He stalked away, The Raven getting up and following him. Hirad spared Auum an ingratiating smile and a wink. 'Told you, eh?' he said, having not understood a word.

  'Feel better for that, did you?' said Ren.

  'Needed saying,' said Ilkar. He turned and grinned at Hirad. 'You'd have been proud of me.'

  'So what did you say, exactly?' asked Hirad.

  Ilkar told him as they wandered back into the Dordovan area and kicked a dying and abandoned fire into new life. 'And what exactly is your plan?' Darrick poked at the new flame.

  'None of the Al-Arynaar have learned ShadowWings. It's a pointless spell in the rainforest. We can all do it and that means we can scout a wide area very quickly. Look, I'm not talking about overflying Xeteskian or Black Wing positions, but there's a mass of open ground on the route they'd have taken trying to get back here. We'll find them, I can feel it. And if we leave a few hours before dawn, we can be beyond Izack's lines before sunrise and practically on top of where Yron and Merke's Tai came out.'

  'Then you'd better sleep,' said The Unknown. 'All of you. And if there's anything you can do to boost your stamina, use it. Because if I'm not mistaken, none of you could cast wings big enough to lift a mouse right now.'

  There was no argument but Darrick wasn't satisfied.

  'Ren, can I borrow you to translate for me?'

  'Sure,' she said. 'What?'

  'Well, whatever we say, the elves are going to disengage and Ilkar is right about how the Xeteskians will react. So Ren and I are going to have a little meeting with Auum, Rebraal and the Dordovan command whe
re I will explain how to conduct a phased withdrawal. Because if they don't do it right and get enough Dordovans in to fill the hole, Izack will have a new army to fight and I'm not having my people left exposed like that.'

  'Ever the general,' said Hirad.

  Darrick shook his head. 'No, Hirad. Just feeling guilty.'

  Chapter 45

  While he'd been unconscious, they'd blindfolded him and tied him across his saddle. He came to his senses at some point during the ride that followed, a ride that he thought would never end. They took him off his horse when they stopped for the night but didn't untie his hands, remove his blindfold or feed him. And they wouldn't speak to him, just gave him infrequent mouthfuls of stale water.

  The crossbow wound in his thigh was excruciating. Periodically, he could feel the blood flow down his leg but he ignored it, such was his general discomfort and the racking jolts into his stomach which came with every stride of the fast-moving horse. He was certain he was being caused probably fatal internal damage and the blood he coughed into his mouth periodically was all the evidence he needed. It left him glad they'd starved him. He'd only have vomited anything solid up anyway.

  When at last they stopped, after the dull thud of hooves had become an echo off buildings and he'd heard the sound of many voices, of hammering and harsh laughter, and he was pulled from his horse to lie flat on hard mud, he knew he'd travelled his last. Wherever they'd brought him to. Whatever town or village they were in, the Black Wings were in control and he wasn't going to be leaving.

  All that kept him alive was the elven salvation he had in a pocket. And even that was taken from him when he was marched somewhere quiet that smelled of old ale, with timbered floors and a high ceiling. After the search that revealed so little, he was forced into a chair, his arms were untied and the blindfold pulled roughly over his head.

  He didn't know what to do first so he tried to do it all. He blinked to get some focus into his gluey eyes, tried to move his arms and massage life back into his hands and fingers and felt at the wound that thudded with every weary beat of his heart. It all became confused so he stopped, took a breath and decided looking at his situation was the best start.

  He forced one arm up to his face despite the protestations of his shoulder and elbow and used the stiffened fingers of the hand to gouge at his eyes. Slowly, painfully, he brought the room into bleary reality. He was sitting on a straight-backed chair across a table from a man. The man was flanked by two others. On the table were tankards, a jug and a plate of bread and dried meat. The look of the food repulsed him, his stomach turning over and sending renewed nausea swimming through his body.

  He was in an inn – the shape, smell and remnants of a bar told him that – but it was an inn that had not seen custom for a long time. Heavy drapes covered window holes and he could now make out sounds from the outside. They were to his left and he got the impression he was as far into the building as he could get.

  Focussing on the man's face in front of him in the dim light, it seemed distorted. One of his eyes was white and his mouth was downturned but just on one side. He had never met the man before but knew exactly who it was.

  'Selik,' he said through a mouthful of old blood.

  'Captain Yron, Xeteskian soldier,' replied Selik, his voice a little slurred as if he was drunk. 'Quite a mess you made of my valuable patrol, so I'm led to believe.'

  Yron managed a dry chuckle though he had never felt less like laughing. 'I tried to warn them.'

  Selik raised a hand. 'Well, we'll get on to all that later. First, I'm sure you could do with water. I'd offer you wine but I'm afraid this place ran dry a long time ago.'

  'Where are we?'

  Selik poured him a tankard of water and he gulped at it, feeling its chill freshness revitalise his throat. He spat on the ground.

  'A place of legends,' said Selik. 'Hard to believe I know, but so much that has shaped us happened here in years gone by. And is doing so again. I'm surprised you don't recognise it even from this small sample. I'd have entertained you in my office but the compound is being used for drilling men and it's all very noisy at the moment. Much more peace here.'

  Yron had a better look round, took in the empty room scattered with broken wood and the dark of night through the door at the far end. There was only one place he knew as dead as this but still standing. He'd drunk here once.

  'Understone.'

  'Very good,' said Selik. 'I see the ride hasn't jellied your brain though I see from your colour the same cannot be said of your gut. Shame. The bread is fresh.'

  Yron was tired. He wanted to sleep or die. Either would have done. But he could see that Selik wanted to toy with him. Well, he didn't want to play.

  'What do you want, Selik? I've just about lost everything except my life and I'm none too keen on that, so don't go threatening death to get your answers. Giving me back to Xetesk holds much more fear.'

  'Hmmm.' Selik tore off a corner of bread and fed it into the right side of his mouth, chewing carefully. 'Yes, that was one of the things I wanted you to help me with. That and a few details about the layout of your beloved college. And, more out of curiosity than anything else, why you're carrying bits of carved marble in your pocket.' Selik indicated the thumb which lay on the table next to Yron's empty holster.

  'Is that all?'

  'For now.'

  'Where do you want me to start?'

  'How cooperative.'

  'You haven't heard me answer yet, boy.'

  'Just before we get on, I think I should make it clear that the only people who could ever call me "boy" were my parents. You will address me as "Selik", or "Captain".'

  Yron scoffed. 'Selik it is, then. You're certainly no captain. That's a term reserved for soldiers of rank, not self-styled peacocks like you.'

  Selik smiled thinly, ignoring the barb. Yron wasn't sure if he was pleased at that or not. He didn't want to endure more pain unnecessarily but he had to know how far he could push.

  'I should make a couple of other things clear. You are going to die here. And I will get my information. It is merely a question of how easy you want to make your last hours.'

  Selik sipped his water, looking at Yron over the rim for a reaction. Yron made sure he saw nothing but calm acceptance.

  'I think your men have already helped me along that path,' said Yron, feeling his gut. 'Ask.'

  'I'm intrigued,' said Selik, 'why a Xeteskian soldier should be found running from his college in the company of elves and not as their prisoner. I have heard of these elves in the past days. Are they not fighting against Xetesk?'

  'Xetesk has committed a great crime – unwittingly at first but now with full knowledge – and it has to be righted. The college would not do it so I took it upon myself. You stopped me. Us.'

  'I am sorry,' said Selik. 'Fortunately, I am the right man to talk to about righting college crimes.'

  Yron managed a smile. 'You have no conception of the scale of what you have done by stopping me.'

  'Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me.'

  Yron shifted, wondering what he should say.

  'How much do you want to damage Xetesk's ambitions?'

  Selik frowned. 'There is not enough time in a day to explain. Why?'

  'And how much do you want to live?'

  'There's much more work to be done,' evaded Selik. 'And I do hope there's a reason for these questions.'

  'Well, you have the tools to do both and neither right here,' said Yron.

  Selik cleared his throat. 'The ice is thin beneath your feet, Captain. '

  'Oh really? I thought it had already cracked and you were merely holding me above the drop.'

  Selik waved a hand impatiently. 'What is this?' He turned the thumb over in his hands.

  'I had no idea you were interested in archaeology.'

  Selik sighed. 'I can make this very painful for you,' he said without looking up. 'But I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary.'

  It was Selik's casual attitud
e that told Yron the Black Wing would torture the information from him. And if he was going to die, it might as well be on his terms. He was not afraid to die. Nor was he afraid of pain but he'd wanted to resist Selik and had tested his narrow limits. But as he sat there, aware of his own unpleasant smell mixing with the stale sweat and ale of the room and those around him, he asked himself what it was he was so desperate to keep from Selik.

  And he couldn't think of a single thing. He relaxed.

  'I'd talk easier over a hot drink,' he said.

  Selik shrugged and nodded at one of his men.

  'And for me too.'

  'Thank you,' said Yron.

  'Now, Captain,' said Selik. 'Time for you to begin.'

  'Well, Selik, the summary is this. What you have in your hand there is part of the thumb from the statue of Yniss that stands in the Aryndeneth temple on Calaius. Its separation from the statue has unleashed a plague which threatens to wipe out the entire elven nation. I was taking it back. You must do the same. If you do you'll gain a very powerful ally. If you don't they'll kill you. All of you.' He leaned back. 'I can see you don't believe me but I assure you it's true, if a little difficult to grasp that something so small could cause something so awful. So, ask me what you want and I'll tell you all I can.'

  Selik asked and Yron told him. Everything. Barely rested but driven by a desperate need, The Raven rode from their forward camp in the dead of night, allowing their horses to pick careful routes through the tussocks of grass, moss-covered rocks and bracken thickets of their route back to the south-west side of Xetesk. During their rest, another dozen Al-Arynaar had succumbed to the Elfsorrow, as had three TaiGethen, one of them Marack, who had already seen the rest of her Tai cell die. To her it had been a release from grief.

  A Communion between Dordovan and Lysternan mages eased their passage between the two battle fronts and on towards the no-man's-land to the south and west, which was still nominally controlled by Xetesk but under pressure from the Black Wing force camped a few miles south.

  The Raven, with their quartet of elven guests clinging unhappily to the saddles of their cantering horses, had made good progress through the latter half of the night, and as dawn brightened the sky, the three mages took to the air.

 

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