The Raven Collection

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The Raven Collection Page 191

by James Barclay


  Ilkar couldn’t help but be taken by the beauty of the animal and the power it represented. Like every elf, he had been taught total respect for both the ClawBound and TaiGethen elves but panthers held an almost mystical position in elven lore. Even so, he found himself moving slowly backwards into the protective crescent The Raven warriors had automatically taken up.

  ‘She won’t attack,’ he said, as much for himself as for any who could hear him.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ said Erienne.

  Thraun knelt by the panther, his hands rubbing her flanks, her head nuzzling into the shapechanger’s chest, rocking him on his heels.

  ‘Big teeth,’ remarked Hirad. ‘Thraun’s got a knack, I’ll give him that. Still, never mind that, I wonder what they’re talking about?’

  Attention moved to Rebraal and the ClawBound elf. The two had stopped. Rebraal was nodding. He bowed his head to the elf and walked quickly back over to The Raven, his hand trailing over the panther’s back. She looked at him and licked his hand before rejoining her partner. Rebraal was smiling. Ilkar translated.

  ‘It would appear the TaiGethen share our conclusion, so it’s time to move. But remember, we’re here under sufferance. We aren’t welcome and our actions have to be careful and considered. Any perceived threat will put us with the strangers, whoever they are.’

  ‘And you’ve got to wonder who, haven’t you?’ said Denser.

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ said Hirad.

  Chapter 30

  Auum led Duele and Evunn along a shallow stream bed into which a run of low waterfalls fed when the rains were at their height. The stream led through a series of gullies, and the crags and rock faces either side were slick with algae and moss. A heavy smell of damp hung in the air and birds circled ceaselessly, looking for stranded fish in the pools, which cut off quickly when the rains ceased.

  The stream, which flowed eventually into the Shorth, made travel easy, and the Tai moved quickly, keeping up a run for hours on end, bows slung across backs, boots slapping down on the wet rock. Auum felt an exhilaration through him as he ran. He could feel his hair flowing out behind him, his heart beating hard and fast, his legs pumping, his arms the perfect balance. Even though the harmony all around him was torn and bleeding, he could sense the energy of the forest and the sounds of Tual’s denizens filled him with hope and belief.

  Trotting round a gentle left-hand bend, leaping a deep pool and splashing down into the ankle-deep water on a fine silt bed, Auum saw two from another Tai cell ahead. He recognised them instantly. Marack, the leader, stood over the seated form of Nokhe. Both her hands were on Nokhe’s shoulders and she was speaking to him, or was she praying?

  Auum spread his arms and his Tai slowed to a stop by their colleagues. As they did, Marack looked up, her face a picture of anguish. Auum’s exhilaration drained from him and shifted his gaze to Nokhe. The chest of the TaiGethen’s shirt was covered in a fine mist of blood.

  ‘Yniss save us,’ he gasped, dropping to his knees in front of the stricken elf. ‘Nokhe.’

  ‘It is the Sorrow,’ said Marack, her voice quiet, robbed of its usual confidence.

  ‘When did it start?’ asked Auum.

  ‘At dawn today,’ said Nokhe, his breathing rasping painfully through ravaged lungs. ‘It is a pain like no other, Auum. I’m dying and there is nothing you or Yniss can do.’

  ‘I will do all that I can,’ said Auum, fighting the urge to scream his frustration at Yniss and his hatred of the strangers. ‘I will pray for you and all those afflicted. This is a test of our faith and I will not fail it.’

  Nokhe’s smile was bloody. ‘Just find the desecrators. And their masters. Before the TaiGethen are gone and our people left defenceless. ’

  ‘Walk with me in the forest,’ said Auum.

  ‘I can sense all I need from here,’ said Nokhe, his breath hissing suddenly, his face lined and his colour drained and weak. ‘I cannot stand for now. My stomach is shivered and the pain is too much. I am so glad it is you I see with my last clear sight. You and Marack.’

  Auum looked up at Marack. ‘And Hohan. Collecting herbs for the pain?’

  Marack shook her head and her face fell still further. ‘He is not coming back,’ she whispered. ‘The Sorrow took him yesterday. He is giving himself to the forest while he still has the strength.’

  Auum rocked back on his heels, stunned. Only now did he take in that TaiGethen would also die. No one was safe, not even Yniss’s most faithful servants.

  ‘And you, my brother?’ asked Auum.

  ‘I do not wish to die alone as Hohan,’ said Nokhe. ‘When the pain passes, I will walk the forest a final time with Marack. Soon, I hope.’ His acceptance of his fate could not mask his fear.

  ‘And I will also be at your side.’

  ‘No, Auum. Only Marack may see me die. You must remember me in life.’

  Auum nodded and leaned forward. He cupped the back of Nokhe’s head in his hands and kissed his forehead, cheeks and finally, tenderly, his lips. ‘May Tual choose you as her champion in paradise.’

  He stood and turned to Marack. ‘Strength,’ he said. ‘When you have walked alone and the contemplation is done, join us. I fear many Tai will be shorn of numbers.’

  Auum signalled his Tai. Duele and Evunn paid their respects to Nokhe, exhorting Shorth to speed his passage to the heart of Yniss. But before they began to run again, Auum drew them close.

  ‘If you should be taken by the Sorrow, I will not hesitate to escort you into the embrace of the forest. And you will do the same for me. Now come, we have work to do.’

  Yron and Erys supported Ben-Foran between them now but it scarcely made travel any quicker or easier. Moving away from the bank of the Shorth for the time being to avoid being seen from the other side, they had found no respite deeper in the forest. The lianas hung everywhere. Huge spiders’ webs drifted in any clear space and the trees were so close-packed they had to back up and change direction constantly.

  With every pace Yron feared the sound of a jaqrui, its ghostly wailing as it scythed towards his back or his head. Erys’s arrival had surely exhausted their luck and came close to the miracle for which he’d been hoping, but the death of the ClawBound pair, when it was discovered, would intensify the hunt. And they were still two days from the estuary and - he hoped - the welcoming embrace of the reserve force and the ship back to Balaia.

  He still hadn’t let himself believe they would make it because he was sure it would dull his focus. And with the TaiGethen after them, that was something he could not afford. Yet slung between him and Erys was a man whose cries would surely attract the hunters. Ben-Foran’s legs were festering. The bandages were mostly torn off now, exposing his terrible wounds to the elements and a new host of remorseless insects and burrowing worms.

  How the boy was still alive was beyond him. Erys had intimated the same and had expended what little there was left of his mana stamina trying to numb the pain and fight the infection. But there was so much damage and he was already exhausted. Yron was grateful he had the strength to support some of Ben’s weight.

  They’d walked without stopping for more than an occasional short breather until well into the afternoon. Ben had drifted in and out of consciousness but had kept up his questions and talk whenever he was alert. But thirst had overcome them and Yron had boiled water and herbs together for them all, scraping guarana into the mixture to disguise its unpalatable texture and taste.

  Following the inevitable rainfall, they’d continued, and now the sun was waning in the sky as the clouds gathered for another soaking. Like them all, Yron suspected, he had come to almost welcome it.

  ‘Do they do anything else, the TaiGethen?’ asked Ben suddenly.

  Yron hadn’t realised the boy had regained consciousness and he laughed.

  ‘Mind still going, is it, son?’ he said.

  ‘About the only thing that is, sir.’

  ‘Anything else than what?’ Erys joined the conversati
on.

  There’d been a lengthy and deepening silence between them all and the sound of their own voices lifted their spirits from the pit into which they had fallen.

  ‘Well, I don’t know. Looking after the temple and the forest, I suppose,’ said Ben.

  ‘No, they don’t. And actually they don’t look after the temple directly. That’s the elves we fought, the Al-Arynaar. They are the keepers. They rotate their duties and live in villages much of the time. The TaiGethen never leave the forest. Not ever.’

  ‘So what do they do?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Well, besides the obvious it’s actually rather hard to explain. They have a complex set of beliefs built around the harmony of the forest, the earth, the sky and magic. The TaiGethen are effectively the most zealous priests of the religion and they spend their lives dedicated to maintaining that harmony. Whatever it takes. Hunting people like us they believe have wronged them, monitoring animal populations, keeping tabs on elven settlements and logging. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Like a city guard,’ said Erys. ‘But in the forest, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘Hardly,’ said Yron. ‘That’s like saying - I don’t know - that Protectors are like city militia, only better trained. The TaiGethen have tracking and hunting skills like you wouldn’t believe. Or maybe you would, Erys. They are silent, they’re impossibly quick and you never see them until they’re about to kill you. They don’t want pay or glory. Bloody hell, they make Protectors look clumsy and slow, that’s how good they are.’

  There was a contemplative silence. They walked on, skirting a particularly thick web in which a huge spider was wrapping up its latest catch, and ducking under the moving branches of a balsa tree. Above them, a young python watched, too small to consider them likely prey. The air was getting heavier as rain neared.

  ‘And you think we can make the ship?’ asked Ben yet again.

  ‘If our luck holds,’ replied Yron, same as always. ‘I know what you’re saying, but they really are that good. There just aren’t very many of them in relation to the size of the forest.’

  ‘Will they chase us across the sea, do you think?’ asked Erys. ‘Gods, I want this to be over when we get on board.’

  Yron shook his head. ‘Not them. We’ve only taken a few papers, when all’s said and done. It’s a crime, but when we’re out of the forest the harmony can be restored. No, we’ll get delegations from the Al-Arynaar and probably the race elders.’ Yron chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Erys; you won’t have to spend every day looking over your shoulder.’

  Another silence but it had a clearer quality to it. Yron might have scared them with his description of the TaiGethen, but the thought of the safety of the ships was a spur to the mind and body, and for a few hundred yards the forest didn’t seem so dense. And then the rain came, and the world closed in again.

  With over a dozen Al-Arynaar staying at Aryndeneth, there was plenty of room in the boats at the moorings two hours east of the temple on the River Shorth. Word was that more Al-Arynaar were coming from all directions. They would be sent immediately downstream to the estuary, or towards Ysundeneth along the Ix in case any of the strangers broke that way. Hirad thought the latter unlikely, given they’d have very little knowledge of anything other than their original route, but it kept the net tight.

  Four of the shallow elven craft began the race to the Shorth Estuary, which cut into the north coast of Calaius perhaps three days’ sail east of Ysundeneth. The Shorth was one of the three principal rivers draining the rainforest, but unlike the Ix and the Orra none of its feeder streams connected with its sisters. Three boats carried a dozen elves each and one The Raven and Rebraal, who was none too pleased to be forced to travel with the humans despite their grudging truce.

  Hirad found it all a little comical if irritating. The Raven were shunned almost completely - tolerated only because Ilkar was Rebraal’s brother - and assumed to be inferior. It was also clear that Ilkar and Ren were somehow lessened by their association with the humans. That The Raven might actually be able to help the elves hadn’t occurred to them at all as far as he could see.

  ‘Don’t let it get to you,’ said The Unknown, seeing Hirad scowl across at the nearest boat full of Al-Arynaar.

  ‘We’re ready to fight a battle for them,’ said Hirad. ‘We won’t get paid although we might get hurt and they’re treating us like shit. Sorry, but it is getting to me.’

  ‘They can’t discard centuries of prejudice just like that,’ said Ilkar from further forward, beneath the billowing sail. There was no need to row just yet, the breeze angling across the Shorth driving them at a good speed on the back of the prevailing current. ‘Particularly with what’s just happened to them.’

  ‘But we aren’t anything to do with the temple raiders,’ said Hirad. ‘Do they assume all elves are the same? Is it so difficult for them to understand people can be different from one another? Gods, Ilkar, but if you weren’t an elf I wouldn’t be putting up with this.’

  ‘So do it for Ilkar alone,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘I am,’ said Hirad. ‘And Ren. And any elf I know that’s still alive back on Balaia. I would just like some recognition from this ungrateful bunch that we’re on their side and trying to help. Not too much to ask.’

  ‘They aren’t like us,’ said Denser. ‘You just have to accept that.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it all right, Denser.’ Hirad looked along the bench to where the Xeteskian sat with Erienne in his arms. ‘I’m not like them. Don’t see me being a tosser do you?’

  ‘Not yet, anyway,’ said Ilkar.

  Hirad shrugged and rubbed at his unshaven chin, then at his legs. ‘Glad we’re out of the forest for a bit,’ he said. ‘What about you, Darrick?’

  The Lysternan general looked around with pursed lips. ‘I was loving it,’ he said. ‘Nothing I enjoy more than being eaten from the inside.’

  Hirad laughed, knowing the Al-Arynaar would look round. ‘It’s that pasty pampered cavalryman flesh of yours. I told you years ago you should have joined us.’

  ‘And then I’d have had to put up with boils and bites. How are yours, by the way?’

  ‘Very well, thanks,’ said Hirad.

  ‘There’s a serious point to be made here,’ said The Unknown in that voice none could ignore. ‘We’ve got a couple of days of relative calm now. We should use it. Mages should get as much sleep as possible, and the rest of us should look after ourselves as well as we can. Only ask for a spell if you’re getting sick. Agreed?’

  Hirad looked over at Aeb, who occupied the back of the boat with them. The Protector had attracted no special interest from the Al-Arynaar. And that in itself was telling about how self-centred the temple defenders were. Someone of Aeb’s size and appearance got attention everywhere.

  ‘How’s the face, Aeb?’

  The mask turned towards him, the eyes fixing him neutrally. ‘I am not inconvenienced.’

  ‘Good. So does that mean you’re clear of sores and bites or that they’re under control?’

  ‘I am not inconvenienced.’

  ‘Leave it, Hirad,’ said The Unknown. ‘It is Aeb’s business and he will seek assistance should he need it. That’s all you need to know.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’ Hirad was already bored despite the fact they’d only been on the boat a short time. ‘Hey, Thraun, you all right?’

  The shapechanger had been silent since climbing the tree for the crossing of the River Ix. Hirad had watched him from time to time and there was no doubting his love of the rainforest. Thraun listened intently to the sounds and took pleasure in the creatures they encountered. He’d been the only one not surprised by the ClawBound communication and Hirad suspected he understood it.

  What went on in that mind of his none of them could fathom. Darrick, who had taken on his blade training, had elicited almost nothing from him, and The Unknown, whom Thraun often shadowed closer than a Protector, couldn’t persuade him to talk. Despite his silence, however, his figh
ting instincts were clearly there and Hirad had total confidence in his ability to do the right thing. Something he didn’t yet have in Ren.

  Thraun looked over and shrugged. His body was almost free of bites. Either the drink Rebraal made them worked particularly well for him or his skin retained its lupine toughness. Seeing he wasn’t going to get anything more, Hirad turned his attention to Ilkar, a smile returning to his face.

  ‘Hey, Ilks, your girlfriend all right, is she?’

  He saw Ren stiffen where she sat in the prow, looking determinedly forward. Ilkar, though, needed no goading.

  ‘Drop it, Hirad,’ he warned, his ears pricking and reddening in irritation.

  ‘Just wanted to be sure everything was all right between you two, you know. I’d hate there to be bad feeling.’

  ‘Everything will be fine as long as you keep your nose out of it,’ said Ilkar. ‘Just leave it alone.’

  ‘You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help?’

  ‘Besides throwing yourself over the side?’

  ‘Sorry I spoke,’ said Hirad.

  ‘As are we all,’ said Erienne. ‘Hirad, you can be such a child. You’re giving me a headache.’

  ‘Erienne?’ asked The Unknown.

  ‘It’s all right, thank you.’

  The Unknown grabbed the scruff of Hirad’s jerkin and pulled him back, putting his mouth close to the barbarian’s ear.

  ‘We love your banter, Hirad,’ he said, ‘but sometimes silence is preferable to your incessant babble. Now is one of those times.’

  Hirad shook himself loose, sat back up and looked round, seeing the warning in The Unknown’s face. ‘Roll on the estuary,’ he muttered.

  It was two days before Hirad’s wish was granted.

  Chapter 31

  The Shorth Estuary was a confused conjugation of half a dozen channels feeding off the main river flow. The low-lying land had created a wide shallow swamp on the margin of which brackish water filtered into the silt-filled estuary, which was bordered by stunning waterfall-strewn cliffs. Far out beyond the estuary mouth, where the water ran deep, calm and sheltered, would lie the enemy ships.

 

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