‘We are assuming they will send flanking forces up both slopes, but given they will have to stay within earshot of the main column, we have set our principal trigger points about two thirds of the way up either side. The ideal situation is that the tail of their army is only just inside the Scar when the traps are sprung.’
Grafyrre trotted on a few paces and crouched, pointing up the left-hand slope. Boltha knew what he was indicating. Auum looked on and nodded his approval.
‘We have forty disguised log runs, twenty to either side of the scar. The greatest concentration is at the one-mile point, where we hope to break the back of the army and split it in two around a significant obstruction. We expect the army to do two things: exit and retaliate. And they will fracture further while they are doing so.
‘The rest of the traps, snares, log swings, pits and spikes are designed to drive the enemy back down the slopes. We plan to harry the rear of the column into the swamp and I’ll have a significant number of Apposans with TaiGethen waiting to show them the way. We aim to scatter them and pick them off as they attempt to climb out further up the Scar.’
Auum gestured up the slopes. ‘And what happens to those who continue climbing through the traps?’
‘Apposan archers will be hidden in the trees, Apposan axes on the ridges and TaiGethen as a roving defence force in case of any significant breakthrough. I’m not worried about humans breaking through to the east, the forest is so dense there that it alone will turn them back. So most of the defence will focus on the Haliath side. We’ll lead out any slaves who fight free, but the fact is that many are going to be hurt or killed.
‘It’s not a perfect plan but we have limited numbers. I’m happy to make changes as I can, though.’
‘Not necessary, Graf.’ Auum punched him lightly on the shoulder. ‘That’s why I sent you here.’
‘One other thing. Takaar passed through here just before we arrived. Seems he’s making decent progress. He’ll get to Katura well ahead of us.’
‘We just have to pray he doesn’t do too much damage before we get there.’ Auum sighed. ‘Right, next: I want two cells scouting the approaches to give us a half-day warning of their arrival. Give us time to tension and set snares, pits and so on. The rest need to walk the ambush site and ensure there are no holes in our defences. How many snares do you have?’
‘About a thousand. Not all set by us. Boltha’s hunters are highly skilled.’
‘A thousand is good but we can always have more. Boltha, I need as many as you can spare to set snares wherever they can. You’re using balsa and palm branches, I presume.’
‘What else?’ said Grafyrre.
‘Good. We’re ready. I’ll walk the entire Scar later this afternoon. First, Boltha, Methian, with me. It’s time to talk to your people.’
‘They will be honoured,’ said Boltha.
‘My intent is not to honour them but to keep them alive,’ said Auum. They began walking, retracing their steps to the hunter trail that led to Haliath Vale, the only safe passage to the settlement for four miles. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Methian. I’ve heard any number of stories about the situation in Katura. What will I find when we get there?’
‘Will you get there?’ asked Methian. ‘Will you need to?’
‘It would be foolish to assume we can stop them here. We can severely weaken them, but they will break through in significant enough numbers. And there is another army heading for Katura, taking the trail east from Deneth Barine and approaching along the Shorthian channels. So yes, I will need to go to Katura.’
Boltha saw Methian shrivel inwardly. The ancient Gyalan had invested so much in the harmony only to find himself an exile. He tried to speak twice, only to sigh as though he thought he was beginning in the wrong place. The third time he just ploughed on.
‘The few of us who hold to the original reasons for founding the city are practically outcasts. Within the city the threads have divided. The power resides not with the Al-Arynaar but with those controlling the supply of edulis and other narcotics. There are those who eke out what passes for a normal life, working, farming and building, but the city has no soul. Unless it is the soul of a criminal.’
‘And what of Pelyn?’
Methian’s head dropped and his next words were hard spoken.
‘She is lost to drugs, in thrall to the criminal element, and she has disbanded the Al-Arynaar. There is no controlling force within the city. Yet the sheer number of elves there means we cannot afford to abandon them. Boltha and I had thought to retake the city, which is why I was here, but now I hope you will lead us.’
Boltha watched Auum’s reaction carefully. He had expected any number of emotions to surface, but the Arch just studied the path ahead as if he’d been expecting Methian’s words. Eventually he glanced at the loyal old Al-Arynaar.
‘One of them threatened Lysael’s life. I’ll start there.’
Boltha shuddered and walked on, following in Auum’s steps and seeing that he managed to leave almost no impression on the wet ground. When the TaiGethen began to speak, Boltha jumped.
‘This enemy will use magic and they do not care who it touches. They are here, in the forest, to finally destroy the elves. Their sheer numbers will overwhelm the spirit of the common elf. Grafyrre should not have involved you in this fight and your settlement will have to go cold. No fires until the humans are gone. No chants, no prayers, no hunting. No evidence that elves live here. It isn’t a place for the young, the old or the elf seeking a quiet life. You cannot stay here, Boltha. Take your people into the mountains to the west until it’s over.’
Boltha stopped so suddenly that Methian walked into his back. Auum sensed the pause and turned.
‘You will not dismiss me, TaiGethen. And you will dismiss neither the courage nor the skill of my people.’
‘I mean no dishonour,’ said Auum. ‘Merely to save the lives of those who are not warriors and should not feel obliged to take on that mantle.’
Boltha nodded and his anger dispersed like river mist under a deluge.
‘You hide away from those you swore to save and so you misunderstand us completely.’
‘Then enlighten me. What do I need to understand?’
‘Elves’ hearts are strong, and our desire for our people’s freedom has never dimmed and will never die. That there is nothing we would not do to end the human occupation. I and all those of my thread here in the Haliath Vale would gladly die in your service to set our people free.’
For the second time, Auum kissed Boltha, this time on the eyes.
‘Then I will be honoured to stand by you in the fight to come, and die with you if that is my fate.’ Auum half turned but turned back almost immediately. ‘I was going to speak to your people . . . but it should be you. With me at your shoulder.’
Elyss’ room was dark and cool. Boltha’s house was modest but of sound and sensible construction and its position on well-drained land made it comfortable and dry. Boltha was still talking to the Apposans.
Auum had ultimately left him to it, feeling himself surplus to requirements and needing to check on his Tai. Elyss was asleep when Auum moved the curtain divider and stepped in. He walked the few paces to her cot and straightened the blanket which was caught about her waist, pulling it back up to her chin.
The room was sparsely furnished with only a single chair and a small table which held a bowl and jug for washing. Auum thought to dampen a cloth before remembering Elyss no longer had a fever. So he sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her perfect face. High and prominent cheekbones, a delicate Ynissul nose and large oval eyes which opened while he watched.
Elyss smiled and took in a long energising breath, stretching her body as she exhaled.
‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ she said.
‘That really shouldn’t surprise you,’ said Auum.
Elyss laughed. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘For what?’ Auum shrugged. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Rested. Ready to go. When will they get here?’
‘We’ve got a couple of days to perfect the trap,’ said Auum. ‘Graf is sending two cells out, Faleen’s and Illast’s, I expect, so we’ll get a half-day warning of their arrival. Build up your strength. You’ll need it.’
‘Auum.’
‘What is it?’
‘Why are you really here?’
Auum leaned back a little way and blew out his cheeks. ‘You’re my Tai. I need to know you are well enough to fight.’
‘Just “well enough to fight”?’
‘Yes. Well, no. Come on, Elyss . . .’
Auum tried not to squirm but her eyes skewered him. She shuffled herself into a sitting position and took his hands. A thrill surged through him.
‘I know we’re short on time,’ she said. ‘We do not know who will survive the coming fight. I will pray, endlessly, that both of us will walk away. But if we don’t then we cannot live alone or die together regretting what we did not do.’
Auum nodded. His heart was thundering and he wanted, more than anything, to hold her close enough to feel every tiny move she made and to bury himself in her scent.
‘I’m at peak fertility, Auum. There is not an Ynissul that does not feel the pressure to conceive . . . but I care little for that. I care that the ula I choose is the right one to give my child the best chance to follow me into the TaiGethen. That ula must be someone I love and would lay down my life to save.
‘It’s you, Auum. Would you consent to be the father of my child?’
Auum was unsure if he was feeling fear or feeling faint, but the cold sensation across his body was pure euphoria. He thought he was probably grinning stupidly and he couldn’t have cared less.
‘It would be an honour I could not describe in words.’
‘Then don’t speak,’ whispered Elyss.
Auum drew her towards him and their kiss entwined their souls.
Chapter 21
They think to buy my favour with edulis. Have they really no mind at all?
The Diaries of Pelyn, Governor of Katura
Jeral strode onto the apron before the temple at Aryndeneth. He was alone. There was something fundamentally thrilling about standing at the heart of your enemy’s faith completely unmolested. He turned a slow circle to face the open doors once more. He began to walk towards them, drinking in the silence, the lack of threat and the feeling of victory.
‘What are you doing?’ hissed a voice from the undergrowth.
Jeral glanced over, seeing several figures tracking him.
‘I’m going inside. What does it look like?’
‘That place will be full of hiding places. It’s suicide.’
‘Hynd, there’s no one here. That ought to be obvious, even to you.’ Jeral stopped. ‘Why don’t you all come out here?’
Reluctantly, they did. Forty-seven of them: thirty-eight soldiers and eleven mages. They were all that remained of the two hundred men and forty mages of the First Company, now rather hilariously nicknamed Dead Company. Jeral stared at them and wasn’t sure if they were the cursed or the fortunate. It hurt deeply, far more deeply than Jeral was prepared to admit. He and Hynd had fought to save as many as they could. But Loreb’s delegation to Ishtak had meant other companies were slow to help, unaware of the urgency until Hynd got to them through Lockesh, and by that time it had been far too late. And, in the aftermath of the agonising deaths of so many fine young warriors and mages, it was the captain and first mage of the company who had taken the blame.
‘Fucking typical,’ muttered Jeral. ‘That fucking souse has probably forgotten he sent us here by now.’
They had marched back along the river for a day and then inland for two more while the main force of the army continued towards Katura with agonising slowness. Jeral’s ire had matured with every pace and his determination to survive had been honed in equal measure. And here, on the empty stones before Aryndeneth, he was beginning to feel strong.
‘Your bitterness taints the sweetest of places.’
‘And why not, Hynd? Why aren’t you bitter? Loreb sent us here to be killed. We saw what he did, or rather didn’t do, and the blood of my men is on his head.’
Jeral began to walk towards the temple. He sheathed his sword.
‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘First, I’m going to prove that this place is completely empty.’
‘And then?’
The rest of the raiding party had joined them on the apron. Jeral motioned the soldiers to move around the temple building.
‘Then I’m going to report as much to either Killith or Pindock, whichever dimwit looks the least pathetic at the time.’
Jeral and Hynd walked beneath the dome of Aryndeneth and relaxed in the calming cool, which was augmented by the sound of running water. The two men stared at the statue.
‘Wow,’ said Hynd. ‘That’s a true work of art. No wonder Loreb wants to live here, the whole place just feels beautiful.’
‘Yeah, well, he’ll live here over my rotting corpse,’ said Jeral. ‘At the very least, I reckon I can start our generals bickering over who gets this place.’
Hynd was frowning. ‘Why would they abandon it?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t this supposed to be their most sacred place?’
Jeral slapped him on the back. ‘Ah ha, now you’re starting to think. Why do you think we need to report?’
Hynd shrugged.
‘Hynd, you never studied.’
‘Not boring military crap, no.’
‘Then let me enlighten you. As we explore we will find that this place has been left neat and tidy, telling us that they didn’t run away in a panic when they heard we were coming. That’s because they knew we were coming in good time, or that they guessed we would come.
‘That tells me they are thinking clearly and will have taken any strength in magic or arms away with them, to wherever they think they can best use it against us.’
‘You think they know where we’re going?’
Jeral laughed. ‘God on the bonfire, Hynd, they’ve always known. What worries me is that they know the route we’ll be taking too. Last thing we need is to walk into a carefully planned ambush, don’t you think?’
Jeral walked around the pool and headed off into the depths of the temple. After a few moments, Hynd trotted after him.
‘Don’t we already expect an ambush? I saw the way the army was forming up to move.’
‘Yes, brilliantly done,’ said Jeral. ‘Really slow, ponderous, heavily protected marching formation ensuring the maximum time for the enemy to set up whatever ambushes they want, wherever they want. Loreb has prepared the column for an attack at any time and he’s telling any Sharp who cares to look exactly how the defences will work.
‘As usual, he’s missed the blindingly obvious: to beat this enemy, we have to have proper reactive tactics, something to surprise them, or they’ll hit and run the way they have every other time.’
‘I don’t understand. How does arriving here tell you that?’
‘It doesn’t. It confirms what I already thought,’ said Jeral. He stopped to look at Hynd’s blank face and shook his head. ‘My dear mage, ever since we embarked on this fool’s mission, the elves have out-thought us at every step, despite there being so few of them. This empty temple is just another example of that.
‘We should worry that the Sharps know where we’re going and how far away it is, while we have no clue how much further we have to march. Nor do we know the forest, and so we amble blindly into the shadows without knowing when or where we will emerge. Our wonderful leaders cling to the belief that all the elves are falling back to Katura and will wait there for us to come and slaughter them.
‘They will not. We have to force them back to the city by beating them in the field. And we will only do that by out-thinking them. They’ve moved their magic from Aryndeneth, Hynd. Where to? Where will their next attack come? Will it be magical or just those fucking TaiGethen or more
of those elf-cat things?’
The two of them walked out into the light and the village behind the temple, and Jeral knew he was right. The village was closed and tidy. The evacuation had been planned and executed perfectly.
‘But surely that is why we have to march as we currently do? Defensively.’
‘No! We should work out all their potential attack styles and have plans to combat them. Then we need to march as fast as we can because every day spent in this accursed place claims more lives, stamina and morale. And now food is running short too, isn’t it? As we are, we’ll be so weakened by the time we reach Katura, we might not even beat the little bastards.’
Jeral stared at Hynd and saw the light beginning to dawn.
‘Well we’d better get back quickly, hadn’t we?’ Hynd said.
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re about to leave the river and head inland.’
‘So they are,’ said Jeral. ‘Into the maw of the beast.’
Hynd walked with Jeral as he crossed the outer pickets. The army had stopped for the day and was camping along a minor tributary from which dozens of glorious fish were being pulled, having been stunned by a sound-wave casting. Fires were already burning and the smells of cooking were, for a change, not tainted by suspicion.
‘Still angry?’ he asked.
‘Still alive?’ said Jeral.
‘I urge caution,’ said Hynd.
Jeral shrugged. He’d been thinking about what he’d say all the way back. Caution wasn’t the primary feature of his planned conversation.
‘Why?’
‘Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news. The good news is that the generals are all in one place discussing tactics. Lockesh is with them too. The bad news is that they anticipate an encounter tomorrow and I don’t think they’ll much care about Aryndeneth right now. Maybe you should keep your counsel until we camp tomorrow night.’
Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen Page 20
