‘Climb,’ said Auum. ‘You know where the fastenings are.’
Duele moved immediately to the base of the wall. He took the coil of rope from his shoulder and tied one end to his belt. Pausing only to check his route, he began to climb.
Auum watched him go, seeing his sure movements make nonsense of the seemingly smooth surface of the wall. Age had forced small cracks in the stone cladding. Most were covered by moss but Duele’s fingers found them all, digging in and holding firm. His feet did likewise, fine leather boots edging their way into tiny crevices. One toe was enough to give him purchase enough to push further up.
Of course it was a climb he’d made many times before but Auum enjoyed watching him. Tual, lord of the forest denizens, had blessed him with a skill few could match. Auum had never seen him so much as hesitate.
The coil of rope unwound steadily. Evunn dropped to his haunches and bound his own length to Duele’s. It was the best they could do. The Balaian rope was coarse, thick and heavy. Strong enough, but cumbersome. Two lengths of something over thirty feet left enough play to loop it over the fixings they’d driven into the base of the overhang on previous visits and leave the bottom end at around head height. Simple for an elf to climb but Auum wondered, not for the first time, how the humans would fare.
Above him, Duele clung to the walls like a lizard on the underside of a branch. He was at the steepest angle of the overhang now, one move from the nearest hook that they’d had fashioned by Lystern’s battlefield smiths. He said a quick prayer to Yniss to keep Duele safe. He need not have worried. Duele untied the rope from his belt with one hand, swung deftly out to the fixing, looped the prepared rope end over the hook in the same motion and lowered himself easily to the ground.
‘Well done,’ said Auum. ‘We’ll use three ascent points tonight. Check your weapons again now. You won’t get another chance.’
The Tai tested blade edges, bowstring tension, arrow feathers and jaqrui throwing crescents, ensuring the whisper blades were foremost. Every heartbeat, more TaiGethen appeared from the grass, emerging as if from underground tunnels, the movement in the open was so slight.
Duele and Evunn took ropes from four Tais, Evunn binding the lengths, Duele attaching ends to his belt. Swiftly, he climbed the first rope, hand over hand, his movements strong and smooth. A few feet below the fastening, he stopped. Locking his feet on to the rope from which he was hanging, he took the free end of another rope from his belt and leant out at arm’s length, balanced like a dancer. Below him, Evunn began to swing the rope like a pendulum. In total control, Duele swung closer and closer to the next hook, looping the rope end over on the fourth pass and switching ropes to repeat the process. He finished on the furthest right of the three ascent points and hung there, waiting.
Auum turned to the assembled Tai cells clustered under the overhang out of sight of any Xeteskian guard.
‘Climb in Tai order,’ he said. ‘Wait for those above you to clear the rope and only complete your climb when you are cleared from above. You know your moves. The walkway will be secured left and right before we begin our descent to the muster point. Tonight, we go to reclaim the Aryn Hiil. Tonight the wrongs that have been done to us will be avenged. May Yniss keep you safe, Tual guide your hands and Shorth take your enemies quickly.
‘Tais, we move.’
Auum swarmed up the centre rope, Evunn to his left. From the hooks, it was an arm’s stretch to the edge of the overhang. The architects had indulged themselves with a narrow ridge and simple carvings which rested below the crenellations. They were a great help.
Auum led the way, pushing off from the wall and establishing a finger grip on the stone ridge. He let go the other hand and hung for a heartbeat over the seventy-foot drop before swinging to double his grip and immediately hauling his body upwards. He reached up and grabbed a carved motif with one hand, one foot now on the ridge. His other foot joined it and he straightened, hugging the wall tight, waiting for Duele and Evunn to join him. Looking right, he saw Duele had beaten him to it. He smiled.
And now it began.
Not six feet from him, Xeteskian guards walked by, their voices soft, their boots echoing off the stone walkway. Between them and the TaiGethen was a last pull up onto the battlements, a slide across the outer wall, four feet thick, and a drop down to the parapet.
Auum could not deny he was tempted. Surprise alone would probably be enough. But he was a born rainforest hunter and instead employed one virtue that above all others kept him alive and ensured his success. Patience.
As though hanging from strangler vines high above the forest floor, the Tai waited. Each prayed to Yniss, each to Gyal, to keep the rain falling and the cloud dark. And each counted the patrols as they passed. The density of footsteps, the distance between them, and their direction.
Experience told them that the walls were sectioned for patrol between guard posts but tonight there was much increased activity. Whereas before they had had enough time to cross the walls and lower themselves down the other side between patrols, tonight, Auum counted three on their section alone. Two each of two men, one of three. And with the distance between the guard posts only a little over two hundred yards, their attack would have to be without error. So be it.
The Tai were ready. A patrol of two walked by, left to right. Auum counted thirty in his head and moved on to the top of the wall between two battlements. Evunn was beside him and both elves crouched hidden between two battlements, invisible from both sides of the walkway.
The second two-man patrol approached from the opposite direction. Auum could hear them talking. They paused to look out over the darkened land. Same place as before. They walked on, strides out of step, passing the two TaiGethen.
Now the shadows moved. Auum and Evunn dropped to the walkway, took a single running stride and grabbed their victims. One hand went over the mouth, the other clamped to the side of the head. They pulled back hard, heads snapped round, necks cracked and bodies fell limp.
They dragged the corpses back to the wall, boots dragging on the stone. Auum listened hard. No alarm. Not yet. Behind them, the two-man patrol walked on unconcerned, while ahead, the three-man patrol continued on towards their guard post and the end of their section. Along the well-lit walkway, he could see they had just a few yards to go. This was going to be close.
Duele waited for them on the sloping wall, grabbing the collars of both dead men while Auum and Evunn leapt up beside him. They arranged the bodies as best they could in the moments available, torsos leaning on the wall, legs straight and arms laid on the wall, hoping to project the illusion of two men looking out into the night. While Auum and Evunn hung onto the corpses, Duele unslung and nocked his bow.
The wait was long but it was always so when the trap was baited. They heard the voices before the footsteps. Auum could make out the odd word but the tone was jocular, at least to begin with. The urgency came when the dead men failed to reply or to make any move.
An order was barked. Pace increased and angry words were exchanged among the patrol. They were scant paces away. Duele tensed his bow. Auum and Evunn readied themselves, knives in their hands.
A hand clamped on the shoulder of Auum’s dead man. The TaiGethen leader blurred, swinging round the battlement and plunging his blade into the throat of the guard in front of him, bearing the man down and out of line of sight. Evunn leapt too, knife catching the torchlight as it whipped home. Duele stood and fired, his arrow taking the third guard through the mouth. There was the chink of metal on stone as he fell.
Immediately, Auum and Evunn took off after the last patrol. Still oblivious, the wind over the wall and their own words masking what had happened behind them, they were about to make their turn expecting to see their comrades walking towards them. How different it would be. Auum unclasped his jaqrui pouch and plucked out a whisper blade. In his other hand, his knife dripped blood. The patrol paused at the open door to the guard post, taking a cursory glimpse inside before turning.<
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Auum’s jaqrui flew, cutting through the night air, chopping over the smoke from a bracketed torch, the sound of its passage sibilant and menacing. Simultaneously, Duele threw his knife, the blade twirling end over end.
Fifteen yards away, the guards only had time to raise their hands in defence. Duele’s knife flew true, striking his target in the chest, piercing his loose-tied leather armour. He grunted and stumbled forwards. Beside him, his companion lost three gloved fingers to the jaqrui which chopped into his cheek.
For an instant, both were silent, disbelieving eyes locking with their assailants who were coming on at frightening speed. The fingerless man began to emit an agonised wail, the sound choked with blood and fear. The other made a grab for his sword. Duele drop-kicked him in the chest, driving the knife through his back. Auum cut off the wail with a blow to the throat and a hand clamped hard over the enemy’s mouth.
Silence again. Auum waited over the bodies, straining for any sign that they had been heard. At a nod, Duele edged to the guard post and looked inside. He closed the door and stood guard, shadowed from any casual glance up from the streets.
Auum trotted back down the walkway, waving Evunn to the other guard post. Only now did he consider the city. The walkway was perhaps five feet wide with a sheer unprotected drop to the black streets and buildings below. Across the city only watch fires and a few house lanterns burned against the darkness but he could easily make out the shapes of Xetesk’s college towers against the clouded backdrop.
The stench of the city was much stronger here and would be worse once they’d descended to the muster point, which had been chosen for its relative lack of surrounding population, sleeping or otherwise. The cloying odours of packed humanity mixed with the reek of fires, sewers and foundries. It was an affront. Only by turning away could Auum smell the open ground and distant trees. How these people could live this way was beyond him.
He crouched for a while at the edge of the parapet. Nothing untoward could be heard. He rose and ran to the access point on the wall. Ahead of him, Evunn had reached the other guard post. Again, the door was closed and his Tai stood sentinel. Auum tapped his knife on the stone and waited for the next Tai cell to join him on the walkway. Each elf carried a coil of rope.
‘Marack to the ropes; Ataan, put the bodies over the wall; Uvoll, I need these lights doused. Work fast.’
The cell split. Auum knew darkening the wall section would eventually draw attention but he couldn’t risk being seen from the streets now. Soon, the parapet would be full of elves. He tapped the wall again. The next cell joined him.
‘Ropes,’ he said. ‘Quickly.’
A third strike and the fourth cell made the walls.
‘Down to the streets. Secure the muster point.’
Auum turned back to the open ground and struck the wall a fourth time. The second stage was about to commence.
Chapter 14
‘Thank you,’ said Tessaya, raising his goblet high and draining it off in one long gulp, spilling wine from the sides of his mouth.
Beside him, Riasu laughed, refilled both their cups and the two Wesmen lords clashed them together before draining them again.
From the door of his tent, Tessaya watched the flames climbing high into the clear night sky. He could smell the ash and the burned flesh on the breeze. He could hear the terrified shouts for help and the screams of pain. And he could see burning men stumble outside their flaming tomb to be cut down by his warriors before they had gone two paces.
He felt nothing for those he had ordered killed. Not for the men he had never met, nor their puffed-up and astoundingly foolish leader, Devun. A man who had been so happy to tell everything he knew and make himself utterly dispensable.
‘What a treasure to have fallen into our laps,’ said Tessaya. ‘Thank you Devun, and thank you Lord Riasu for bringing him to me.’
He turned and strode back into his tent, an arm around Riasu’s shoulders.
‘Can we do it?’ he asked, dropping into one of the plush sofas. ‘Do we have the strength of arms and do we have the will?’
Riasu remained standing. ‘That we have the will is certain. It is in our blood to conquer. And the war council will sit here tomorrow. Then you will know if we have the strength.’
‘I would know more than dead Black Wings or the Spirits can tell me,’ said Tessaya. ‘Send scouts to Xetesk. Tell them to count everyone they see. Tell them to memorise the state of the siege. And, Riasu, tell them to be careful.’
Out beyond the plains grass that surrounded Xetesk, The Raven waited. Despite his convictions, Denser was experiencing mixed feelings. Sneaking into his home city and the college that had nurtured his talent so expertly was making him uncomfortable. Beside him, Hirad was itching to get going. The barbarian could barely contain his energy. It was a good sign. Inside, they would need a Hirad who was unstoppable and who would drag all of them beyond their limits. Never would the heartbeat of The Raven be needed more.
Erienne leaned into him.
‘Gets to you, doesn’t it?’ she said softly, one hand squeezing his knee.
‘Eh?’
‘Remember how we all broke into Dordover a few years back?’
Denser smiled. They had been after one of the Dawnthief catalysts and had only just escaped with their lives. Erienne had risked everything.
‘This is a different situation,’ he said.
‘Not really. The feelings are the same whether they are declared enemies or not, and whether we are stealing or reclaiming. Makes you feel a traitor, doesn’t it?’
Denser nodded. ‘Sort of.’
‘Don’t feel guilty about it, that’s all I want to say,’ said Erienne. ‘It’s only natural. I will forever love Dordover. It is the actions of a few people who have destroyed my loyalty but I have my memories and the hope the leadership will change for the better in the future. You’re the same. You grew up under Styliann, Laryon and Nyer. Remember them, for all their faults, and try not to fix on a loyalty you feel you should have but can’t recall.’
Denser looked into her eyes, saw the battle going on inside her and smiled.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, stroking her hair beneath the hood of her lightweight cloak. ‘I love you.’
‘What I understand is that you can’t afford to think of any of those bastards in there as your people,’ said Hirad.
‘Your tenderness is overwhelming,’ said Denser, turning his attention to the barbarian. Hirad’s eyes were bright and fierce, shining from the darkness surrounding them.
‘They will feel none,’ he said. ‘And you are Raven. We are your people. You no longer belong to Xetesk and you can’t afford to wonder why.’
‘No, that’s not it,’ said Denser.
Hirad shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter what the reason, if you hesitate once, you’re dead and perhaps we all are. If you go in there with anything less than total belief, you won’t come out. And I am not losing another mage. Understand?’
Denser chuckled, patted Hirad on the shoulder. ‘You know I do. Don’t worry about me.’
‘I have to worry,’ said Hirad. ‘Like I’ve said before, it’s my job.’
Near them all, Thraun stood up quite suddenly, staring towards the walls. Next to him, The Unknown and Darrick made to grab his arms to haul him down but he was too quick, taking a couple of paces out into the grass. He growled, sniffed at the air, crouched and turned.
‘They talk,’ he said.
‘Who?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Listen.’
It was ahead of them towards the walls but left and right, not where the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar mages were clustered. It was a sound they had all heard before but in the depths of the Calaian rainforest. Growing in volume, everything from low-throated growls to high-pitched yowls and whines, the ClawBound panthers let rip, bringing an alien resonance to the heartland of Balaia.
It seemed to echo from the clouds themselves, reverberate through the brush and bounce
from the walls of the city. It was at once beautiful and terrifying, carrying with it the mournful quality of lands lost and the taste of great age and reverence. It sent a shiver through Denser’s body and Erienne reflexively tightened her grip on his knee.
Hirad added a growl of his own. ‘Didn’t they think we were playing fair?’ he demanded into the noise. ‘So they thought they had to announce we were coming, or something? Make sure everyone was waiting for us once we got inside to make a fight of it? Gods burning, have they no idea of stealth?’
Rebraal appeared by his left side, speaking for them all to hear. ‘Inside the city, that sound is clawing at every door. Let me ask you, would you rush outside, sword in hand, or make sure the bolts were across and keys turned in every lock? And those few ClawBound are doing something for you right now. They are diverting every eye on the wall. Now run and don’t stop until you can slap stone.’
Hirad chewed back his retort and stood. ‘You heard him,’ he said. ‘Raven! Raven with me!’
The Raven ran in fighting formation, The Unknown at the head of the uneven chevron, Hirad and Darrick to his right, Thraun to his left with Erienne and Denser behind the warriors. Streaking away in front of them was Rebraal, the Al-Arynaar skipping through the thigh-high grass as if it barely covered his feet while The Raven struggled behind, forcing the sinewy stems aside as they came on.
For all it was an effort and he felt as if he were running headlong into the teeth of death, Denser felt exhilarated. The damp air was fresh and chill in his lungs, the sheen of rain on his forehead cooled him and the rush of the grass around him, the breeze in his ears and his friends charging on ahead lifted his heart. He would have shouted but for the folly that would have been.
Panting and out of breath, he made the relative safety of the walls. The last TaiGethen cell was climbing a trio of ropes that dropped from the overhang high above, and the only people left were Rebraal, the Al-Arynaar mages and The Raven themselves.
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