Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen

by James Barclay

  ‘Clear the road!’ shouted Auum. ‘Bring the braces and shore up the top of those gates. Move!’

  The top three feet of the gate had been bent inwards. Auum raced forward, seeing Ulysan and three others carrying the flagpole. He joined them and they planted the wide base in the mud where the cobbles had been dug out, and positioned the top against the seam about halfway up.

  ‘It had been blown down,’ said Ulysan. ‘The top ten feet are missing.’

  ‘Casting!’ came the cry. ‘Brace, brace!’

  Ice boulders smashed against the breach in the gates. Orbs beat into the middle. Auum leaned hard against the pole along with seven others, his arms vibrating with every strike. Metal groaned, joints weakened and timbers split behind the armour. More of the gate failed, the top right-hand hinge was springing open, opening up a hole the size of an elf.

  It was as relentless as it was inevitable. Another massive impact and the gates bowed inwards with the sound of screaming metal and the collapse of the shoring timbers, which slid lazily back. Auum saw the seam of the gates break. The heavy slide latches bent, ready to give. Wood was beginning to smoulder.

  ‘Casting. Clear, clear, clear!’

  Auum heard the note of panic and knew it was over. ‘Run!’

  He ran two paces and dived full length into the lee of the walls. He rolled onto his back and saw the third thundering impact rip a hole through the middle of the gates. The flagpole was shattered, pieces cartwheeling away. The gates rocked open, sweeping away the shoring timbers and slamming against their stays. Metal plates clattered to the ground. The tattered right-hand gate leaned out, hanging in space for a moment before falling.

  More spells flew through the gap, doing little but knocking down already ruined buildings behind the gates. The smells of hot metal and burning wood mixed with smoke in the air. Katura was breached, and the ease with which it had been achieved made Auum wonder why their enemy hadn’t done it hours earlier.

  Auum walked towards the ruined gates and peered out onto the scorched field. He straightened in surprise and stood in full view of the enemy, watching them withdraw. Only one man stood there now and he raised a spear with a piece of grubby white cloth tied to it. Small groups of soldiers and mages stopped and turned before reaching their lines. The soldier waved his makeshift flag, took his sword from its scabbard and laid it on the ground.

  ‘He wants to talk,’ said Ulysan, coming to Auum’s shoulder.

  ‘I have nothing to say to a human,’ said Auum.

  ‘You have nothing to lose by hearing him out.’

  ‘And nothing to gain,’ said Auum. ‘Clearly they feel the battle is won and he is seeking our surrender. He must know we won’t agree.’

  ‘Talk to him,’ said Ulysan. ‘Takaar always said knowing your enemy gives you an edge. He will give away more than you will. He’s human, after all.’

  ‘He assumes we respect some white flag? He’s either very brave or very stupid.’

  ‘He has mages ready to cast should he be struck down. He’s not that stupid.’

  Auum thought for a moment. ‘It can do no harm, I suppose. I’ll go.’

  ‘You should guard yourself as he does.’

  Auum shook his head. ‘I am not afraid of them.’

  He walked from the gates, keeping his eyes fixed on the human. To his credit, he showed no fear. He stood proud, the spear held in his left hand, its base on the ground and the flag hanging limp from its tip. Auum stopped when he was three paces away, the soldier shielding his body from the mages and close enough to kill his enemy with a single strike.

  ‘I am Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen,’ he said.

  ‘I am Jeral, commander of this army,’ replied the man in passable elvish.

  ‘You? I don’t think so. Three senior soldiers command your force. One we know is dead. Send one of the others.’

  ‘There has been a change of command,’ replied Jeral.

  Auum nodded slowly. That explained the change in tactics, at least.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Jeral smiled. ‘It’s over, Auum. Your gates are gone. I can do the same to your walls tomorrow. I can flood your city with spells and send my soldiers in at the end to finish the rest. We know you have no strength of arms. We respect and fear the TaiGethen but you are terribly few. You have dressed your townsfolk up as soldiers, while I have an army of two thousand here and another two thousand will arrive overnight. We could defeat you without magic, such is our strength.

  ‘Surrender.’

  ‘To what end?’ Auum knew the numbers, but to hear them from his enemy’s mouth gave them greater force. ‘We will not become your slaves.’

  ‘I will give you until first light tomorrow. Any who wish to can leave through your broken gates and surrender to me without fear of death. I have no wish to spill more of your people’s blood.’

  ‘Liar. We know why you are here. To finish us. To end the elven race. And you may get your wish, but you will pay for it step after bloody step. Send your magic and your swords. We will kill ten of you for every one of us who perishes. You think we are beaten? You know nothing of the spirit of my people.

  ‘Go back to your army, Jeral. Tell your soldiers that they must defeat the TaiGethen. This is our forest, our land, given to us by Yniss, and he will not turn his back on us. You will not prevail.’

  Jeral nodded. ‘So be it. Your words will chase you and your people to your grave.’

  ‘I look forward to killing you,’ said Auum.

  ‘Not if I see you first.’

  Jeral bowed, turned and walked away. Auum watched him for a moment before trotting back to the gates, where Ulysan was waiting with the TaiGethen.

  ‘Well?’ asked Ulysan.

  ‘He does not fear us but some in his army doubt their victory is assured, which is why he seeks a bloodless end. I will not give it to him. We know his numbers and we know what he will do. Come, we have work to do before dawn.’

  Chapter 35

  Serrin granted me an audience some eighty years after he was called to the ClawBound. He showed me the tattoos of the Aryn Hiil text on his back and chest. This, he said, was the pure expression of a Silent Priest.

  From ClawBound and Silent by Lysael, High Priest of Yniss

  Jeral was enjoying a decent night’s sleep in a hammock near a good roaring fire when the angry shouting disturbed him. He opened his eyes. It was full night. The argument was coming from his left, towards the forward pickets. He’d feared TaiGethen attack during the night and the wards were thick on the ground. Rested mages were ready to cast on anything that crossed the line.

  He heaved himself to the ground and belted on his sword. He was joined by other curious soldiers as he walked towards the disturbance. This was high-level stuff. The raised voices were those of Lockesh and Sinese, commander of the second army. Their words were clear long before he saw their fire-lit silhouettes.

  ‘. . . know what is best for those under my command. You have no authority over me, Lockesh. Back off.’

  ‘We have cast all day. We have won the battle. Now your slacklipped charges are here dripping poison into the ears of my mages.’

  ‘They have a right to know,’ Sinese spat.

  His was a tall and broad silhouette. A career soldier, but one for whom the line between command and care was too often blurred.

  ‘They have no rights,’ Lockesh sneered. ‘They are military mages. They do as they are ordered, the same as every soldier.’

  ‘I am astonished by your complacency. This is not some trifling matter. Mages could start falling from the sky, or be engulfed by their own flame.’

  ‘If! If the Sundering should happen. It has not, and while it has not your mages will join battle with mine. They will fight.’

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen. The camp is awake and hanging on your every word,’ said Jeral, nodding at Hynd, who was standing nearby looking, frankly, frightened. ‘Can I help at all?’

  Sinese looked at him as he mig
ht look at a smear of shit on his shoe. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘I am Jeral, commander of the Ysundeneth army.’

  Sinese tipped back his head and roared with laughter.

  ‘Some good news at last. A real soldier, by the look of you.’ His expression sobered. ‘But no doubt you’re also complicit in hiding the risk our brother mages face.’

  ‘No, sir. I am anxious to see this battle won before that risk grows any further. What’s happened?’

  Lockesh waved a hand at Sinese. ‘In his wisdom, the general relayed Ystormun’s news to all under his command. His mages, he says, are now too scared to cast in case their spells consume them.’

  ‘The information is clear,’ said Sinese. ‘This battle must be won by sword alone.’

  ‘We heard different,’ said Lockesh. ‘We heard that the battle must be won at pace to avoid such risks. We have made great strides, but we must use our magical resources tomorrow.’

  Jeral nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it, General.’

  ‘Then put your own mages in the line of danger. Make them cast knowing every construct might bite them without warning.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Jeral. ‘So long as your blades are the first through the gates.’

  ‘That’s not going to be so easy,’ said Hynd quietly.

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘My Lord Lockesh, if I may?’ Lockesh nodded and Hynd continued: ‘The damage is already done.’

  ‘What damage?’ demanded Jeral, suddenly feeling nervous. ‘Talk to me, Hynd.’

  ‘You have to understand how much of a mage’s ability is based on confidence in the unbroken flow of mana, and how dangerous it is if that flow is interrupted. We’ve all experienced it in simulations, and not all of us have come through them unscathed.’

  ‘But the flow isn’t interrupted, is it?’

  ‘Not right now,’ said Hynd. ‘But what about in the next moment, or the next? It eats away our confidence, and a mage worrying about the flow cannot make a solid construct.’

  ‘But you have to risk it, right?’ Jeral spread his hands. ‘Every time I pick up my sword I’m gambling that the enemy I face isn’t as good as me. Warfare is a gamble for every one of us. We need you.’

  ‘I’m just being honest,’ said Hynd. ‘I’ve seen the look on many of our mages’ faces. They feel betrayed that they weren’t told, and they’re scared of what might come next.’

  ‘But you, Hynd,’ said Jeral. ‘If I asked you to fly, you would.’

  Hynd held his gaze for a moment before letting it drop and shaking his head.

  ‘I don’t know, Jeral, I really don’t.’

  Jeral couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘All right, maybe flying’s a bad choice. An orb, then. You’d do that, right?’

  Hynd didn’t answer.

  ‘Gods on a pyre,’ hissed Jeral. ‘I’ve got to have spotters and I’ve got to have ground casting.’

  ‘I cannot promise you much of either,’ said Hynd.

  Jeral jabbed a finger towards the city.

  ‘That city is full of Sharps. Most of them aren’t soldiers but every one of them is a dangerous fucker who’s scared of nothing but our magic. We have to have an open field when we get inside. Right now they could hide around every corner and pick us off one by one. Without you we’ll lose hundreds of men winning this thing.

  ‘You have to help me. You have to clear the ground of cover so my soldiers, who have not turned into total cowards, can see who the fuck they are fighting.’

  ‘It is not cowardice,’ said Hynd.

  ‘What would you call it, then?’

  ‘I will cast,’ said Lockesh.

  Jeral started. ‘My lord?’

  ‘I will cast, like any common mage. I have not lost my . . . confidence.’ He glared at Hynd. ‘Let it be known. I will lead any mage with the courage to join me onto the field come the dawn.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Jeral. ‘Every soldier is indebted to you.’

  ‘I merely wish to get this done and to be able to walk out of here alive.’

  ‘Great,’ said Jeral and he punched Hynd hard on the shoulder. ‘Then we’re done.’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Sinese, clearly raging at Lockesh’s seizure of the moral high ground. ‘I would speak with you, Jeral, about a proper chain of command.’

  ‘Knock yourself out, but I’m not going to start reporting to you.’

  Dawn arrived, and those few on the ramparts were afforded a view that would take the heart from many. With those first rays of sunshine pushing the shadows of night back into the forest, the enemy had emerged from the eaves of the forest to stand in ranks that stretched across the width of the blackened open ground.

  Auum, with the bruised Pelyn beside him and a handful of TaiGethen spread along the ramparts to either side of the sundered gates, looked at the force ranged against them and could only pray for divine intervention.

  Below Auum, the gates had been re-erected. Carpenters had patched the timber, and steel plates had been reattached, but it was no more than a token effort and the humans would know it.

  ‘They’ll come on hard and they won’t stop until their work is done,’ said Auum. ‘Are your people ready?’

  Pelyn nodded. She was rubbing at her arms and her voice shook but not from fear.

  ‘A few have fled across the lake, looking for sanctuary in the heights above the quarry, but most have stayed. These are city people, proud people, and they know no other life. They’ll stand and fight when they must.’

  Auum had ordered the city evacuated behind a line to the rear of the hall of the Al-Arynaar. Katurans were hidden in the ghettos to the south of the city and scattered among the buildings in the outer circles. Only the TaiGethen prowled the areas nearer the gate, tasked to attack mages wherever they could once the invasion began. They had built many street barricades, but all of them were wooden and none would stand up to more than a couple of castings.

  The archers were hidden on the roofs and upper floors of the tallest remaining buildings. There was no shortage of arrows and poison, but the mages and shields would have to be taken down before they could be effective.

  ‘Here they come,’ said Auum.

  The human army began to march. Auum watched them until they stopped to prepare their barrage.

  ‘Fall back. Let them use their spells. We can do nothing here but offer them targets.’

  The defenders dropped from the ramparts and the Al-Arynaar dispersed into the depths of the city to stand with their nominated militia groups. The TaiGethen gathered to pray in the lee of the walls. When they were done, Auum faced them.

  ‘Sell your lives at a high price if you have to sell them at all. Look to your brothers and sisters. May Yniss guide your every footfall. Marack, Illast, Acclan, Thrynn, take your cells to the west. Keep low, strike and run. Merrat, Grafyrre, Merke, Oryaal, Corinn your cells go to the east. Ulysan and I will free-run as decoys. If we can kill the magic then we can still win. Tais, we move.’

  Auum took Ulysan and ran down the main street, past the gutted and shattered buildings of the Gyalan, Ixii and Tuali ghettos and up to the outer of the four circles. The main street ran directly into the marketplace, but within the circles the alleys and side streets provided good cover. Much of the first circle facing the gate still stood, but enough buildings had suffered significant damage to persuade Auum not to hide there for too long.

  A whistling and roaring filled the air. Auum watched orbs and ice boulders soar high over the walls and come smashing down in the streets just beyond the gate. Only three mages flew in the sky. Castings smashed into the fragile gates and pounded the walls to either side.

  From beneath an awning that hid them from the spotters, Auum and Ulysan saw the gates disintegrate and the remains of the gatehouse rock on its foundations and tumble outwards, ripping holes the size of carts in the walls to either side. Orbs flew in again and again, melting the thin metal, popping lines of rivets and blasting s
tone to fragments.

  Abruptly, the focus changed; the humans had seen something. The walls to the west of the gate were targeted hard. Other spells arced over the same section of the walls to land squarely in the Gyalan ghetto. Houses blew apart, timbers flew high into the air, spinning through clouds of splinters, clay and mud. The walls burst inwards, ice boulders crashing through them and flame orbs consuming the wood, between them creating a gash thirty feet wide.

  Through the gap, Auum could see the humans begin their charge on two fronts.

  ‘Ulysan, with me.’

  The TaiGethen pair ran behind the barrier of the first circle. Castings were dropping all around them, rattling the ground beneath their feet, sending clouds of dust billowing along the tight streets and filling their noses with the smell of burning and the foul stink of magic.

  ‘Take the next right,’ said Auum.

  An ice boulder drove into the building directly in front of them. Auum pushed Ulysan left and dived to the right as timbers exploded from the sides of the building. The boulder tore straight through, front to back, and cannoned into the building across the ring. The whole structure collapsed, sloughing into the road, covering everything for twenty yards around with thick freezing dust.

  Auum wiped the blood away from a cut on his cheek and rubbed his hand on his trousers.

  ‘Ulysan?’

  Auum worked his way through the clogging dust. He saw a pile of debris shift and Ulysan emerged from it. Auum helped push away the wood and muck and dragged his friend back to his feet.

  ‘All right?’

  ‘You saved my life,’ said Ulysan.

  ‘You’ll get plenty of chances to repay me, I’m sure. Let’s get west.’

  Auum raced down the next street and back towards the walls. He veered left, away from the main road. Castings were still falling but there were fewer now as the advance gathered momentum. He could see archers on the ramparts, firing down on the enemy. While he watched, two elves were hurled back, shafts jutting from chest and eye. The rest dispersed back to the second fire points.