They ran back into the Gyalan ghetto. Full of low houses, straight but narrow streets and a ceremonial fire pit at its heart. Auum heard elven voices. The ghetto had been flattened in a wide area stretching halfway to the western walls. Flames climbed high into the air and grey smoke pillared up into the sky. Turning a corner, he saw Acclan and Kepller kneeling to either side of a body.
Auum sprinted up, Ulysan in his footsteps. Acclan looked up, tears making tracks in the dirt of his face. Dysaart was dead. He’d been Acclan’s second for three hundred years. A hero among the TaiGethen.
‘He didn’t even have the chance to fight,’ said Acclan. ‘Ice hit him in the back of the head. There is no honour in that.’
‘Not for men, but there is for elves.’ Auum reached out hands to the two survivors and brought them to their feet. ‘We have all lost those we love. The enemy have breached the walls behind you. They attack us on two fronts now. Fight for him.’
The four of them moved off, Kepller limping heavily, favouring his right foot. Auum saw blood staining his left calf.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘I can fight.’
Three corners later he had to make good on his words. The ghetto was levelled beyond the breach. Spells flashed through it, creating space into which men were pushing. Archers breasted the broken timbers prepared to shoot. Auum kept his Tais just out of sight. Enemy soldiers boiled into the streets of Katura here and through the gates.
‘Drop back to the next corner; I’ll draw them on to you. We’ve got to take out those mages.’
Killith kicked the Sharp again. And again. The slave had long since stopped moving and had never once cried out. She’d stared at him just the once and even had the temerity to spit blood from her ruined mouth onto his boot, but that was all he’d got from her.
‘Feeling better?’ Pindock asked from his seat on a fallen log.
His ridiculously lavish personal security team was scattered among the trees just in case a spider got a bit aggressive.
Killith thought for a moment.
‘No,’ he said, giving the body another kick just to see it judder. ‘At least, not yet. I’ve had all night to think about it followed by a good breakfast of slimy tuber soup, and my plan is to drink Loreb’s stash of wines and spirits and then kick every Sharp I lay eyes on to death as my part in the war effort. Once I’ve done that, I’ll figure out how to kill that fucking upstart Jeral.’
‘Good luck with that. He’s under Lockesh’s wing now, isn’t he?’
In the distance the sound of thousands running, fighting and dying and the detonations of spells carried through the forest. Closer to, they could hear bored soldiers pacing and what was presumably a heavy stumble over something hidden in the leaf litter, not an uncommon event in this ridiculous place.
‘Poison does not respect the influence of mage lords.’ Killith looked down at his boots. They were smeared with blood and dirt. He sat down, dragged them off and threw them at an aide. ‘Clean them. Good to have a shine when you’re taking revenge, I find.’
The aide stooped to pick up the boots, muttered a curse and dropped them again.
‘Are you—’ began Killith.
The aide wasn’t looking at him; he was staring beyond him and a stain was spreading across his groin. Killith turned. Pindock was already whimpering and trying to scramble away though he must have known there was no escape. Somewhere nearby, a soldier was yelling for help.
‘Stand with me, Pindock. At least pretend you are a man.’
Killith had never feared death, but then he’d never faced it all that closely before. And now the certainty of his was upon him, he felt relief at not having to face the questions of his masters back in Balaia. His one regret was that he didn’t have his boots on.
So Killith faced them without flinching in his threadbare stockings and with his sword in his hand because he would not want to be found empty-handed. The elves had emerged with such poise that he even felt guilty for standing there. This was their forest, their land.
Killith watched them close in on him and the three men who had chosen to stand with him. Eight of the painted and tattooed elves, with their panthers in close attendance, stood in his arc of vision, and more were moving to encircle the larger encampment if the cries he heard were any guide.
Killith brought his sword to the ready, held in two hands and across his body. A panther leapt on him the next instant, its jaws clamping onto his shoulder and bearing him down into the leaf litter. The air was punched from his body and his sword sprang from his hands. He reached out for it and laid a hand on its hilt. It comforted him.
From where he lay, Killith saw the ClawBound running forward. Pindock screamed and begged for mercy. His wailing carried on and on, his life extended to voice the sum of his agony.
Killith fought to rise but a figure dropped onto his chest. The elf stared at him as if he were a museum exhibit, curious but unmoved by what he saw. He said nothing but brought his hands to Killith’s face and slashed both his cheeks with his sharpened fingernails. Killith jerked and cried out, unable to stop himself.
The elf pushed his chin back, driving his head into the mud. The next fingernail sliced his forehead open. Killith shouted out for him to stop, that this was not what he deserved: to be a message, left like all the others, breathing but too hideous to look upon.
Only then did the elf pause to shake his head.
‘Then you are fortunate,’ he said in elvish plain enough for Killith to grasp,‘that you will not be breathing when they find you.’
Chapter 36
My suspicion is that elves have a natural affinity with mana that offers them great longevity, and replenishes and revitalises their bodies without the need for direct magical intervention. My forthcoming experiments will investigate how mana is channelled in an elven body. Happily, I have a large number of subjects available for my work.
From On Immortality by Ystormun, Lord of Calaius
Auum ran from cover into the sight of hundreds of his foe. His jaqrui bounced from a magical shield and then his blades were in his hands. He ducked an arrow and saw soldiers turning towards him while others ran on deeper into the ghetto. He sprinted on, leapt and spear-kicked a soldier who’d got ahead of his comrades. Auum dropped to the ground on his haunches.
Three blades came at him. One was moving left to right. Auum leapt above it and hacked down with his left hand, his blade splitting his target’s shoulder. The second was a thrust to his chest. As he came back down, Auum buried a blade in his target’s gut. Auum ducked a third flailing strike, jabbing up into groin and carving deep across the vital artery in the thigh.
Auum jumped straight up, turned a roll in the air and ran. An order was barked and a detachment of the enemy gave chase, bellowing promises of revenge against him and his mother. Too fast for them to catch, he tore around the corner to see his Tais standing with jaqruis cocked in either hand.
Auum jumped again, this time soaring over his Tais, turning a tuck in the air to land behind them and face the enemy. They spilled around the corner. Ulysan barked like a wild dog and six jaqruis howled across the space, downing the front runners, who fell into the feet of those behind them.
Ulysan led a charge into their midst. From an alleyway to their left, Illast’s Tai of Bylaan and Ashocc sprinted into the fray as well, driving into the invaders’ flank. Illast buried a dagger in the face of his first target and heaved him back into the press. A blade in his other hand blocked a strike to his neck and Bylaan’s kick drove the attacker back.
The enemy were maybe two hundred strong, ranks of soldiers defending mages in their midst. The street itself was tight but spells had widened the battle area. Some mages held shields in place while others cast fire and ice ahead and to the right. The noise was deafening, bouncing from the walls of the few buildings still standing. The thunder of spells taking down buildings, the roar of men’s voices and the clash of steel all mixed with the dull thud of blade on leather and flesh.
>
Ashocc, less than a pace from his target, snapped a kick high into his face. The man toppled like a felled tree. Ashocc ran up his body and jumped high out over the enemy. His blades were at right angles to his body and he twirled them in his hands. He dropped right into the heart of the group of mages.
‘Push!’ yelled Auum.
Ulysan, Acclan and Kepller joined him. The four waded into the enemy. Ulysan knocked a man out with a single punch. Kepller stumbled on his injured leg and Acclan’s blade blocked the blow intended to kill him. Auum knocked a sword blow high with his right blade and thudded his left into his opponent’s chest. He could hear Illast calling Ashocc to clear; instead, Bylaan pushed towards him. Blood spurted high enough for Auum to see it. Mages were dying.
The line moved back as men turned to defend their mages while the men on the flanks continued to move up. Auum pushed back a pace and Ulysan had seen the danger too. He nodded to Auum and headed left. Auum went right, leaving the other two to keep the pressure on the centre.
Auum saw Ashocc’s blade rise and fall and he heard the screech of elven pain too. Spells had stopped falling. He threw a jaqrui right but the blade bounced away. Auum swore; the shield was still intact. On the other side of the fight Illast’s cries were getting desperate, while in the centre Acclan was parrying more than striking in an effort to keep Kepller alive. The injured Tai had abandoned all caution and was forcing his way deeper into the enemy.
Auum hit the right flank. Two soldiers faced him, swords defending their bodies. Auum opened his body and battered his right-hand blade towards the head of the soldier on the left. He spun with the momentum and rammed his left blade backwards into the gut of the other.
Still moving fast, he completed the turn and took off, his body horizontal and spinning up over the defensive line. He pulled his legs under him, reversed the grips on his blades and thudded down in the midst of the enemy. He jerked both blades back, feeling one slide into flesh while the other struck empty space.
Ashocc was in desperate trouble. Bodies of mages and soldiers lay around him but he was beset on all sides. He had cuts to his face and chest and one arm hung useless, the blood from the shoulder wound soaking his jerkin. Bylaan was still too far away to help him.
Auum switched his swords front and chopped overarm, one following the other. He took a soldier through the back, a mage across the face.
‘Bylaan! Get clear!’ Auum called. ‘I’ll get Ashocc.’
Bylaan had heard him. He spun, his blades ahead of him, blocking blows aimed at his head and chest. Ashocc drove out a front kick, knocking an enemy blade aside. His own sword crunched into a mage’s side. Another soldier struck out. Ashocc jumped back but the blade nicked his stomach, biting deep. Blood flowed.
‘Ashocc, turn!’ ordered Auum.
Auum smashed his elbow into the face of an enemy coming up on his right. He powered on through the confused mess. His blades flicked out left, right, high and low, blocking and cutting, beating a path to his brother. Ashocc took another blow on his blade but tripped on a body behind him and fell.
Auum shouldered the last soldier out of his way, dashed a blade into a mage’s ribs and leaned to seize the stricken TaiGethen. Blows came in from both sides and ahead. With his left hand, Auum grabbed Ashocc, trying to haul him upright. With his right, he fended away a strike to his flank. His left foot whipped out, tripping another attacker, balancing with his right. The stink of man and blood was filling his nostrils.
‘Go!’
Ashocc’s feet were back under him and the pair of them struck out. Auum could see Bylaan and Acclan fighting hard, trying to make space. Blows came in again. Auum swayed inside one, seeing the blade strike sparks from the ground. He parried another but a third got through and cut across Ashocc’s face and neck.
Ashocc’s legs gave way but Auum would not let him fall. He heaved the warrior through the enemy line and into a moment’s space.
‘TaiGethen, break and run,’ he shouted.
Illast and Bylaan pushed back against the humans and took Ashocc from Auum. They sprinted away along the street, Ulysan, Acclan and Kepller with them, the latter dragging his leg badly and supported by the others. Arrows began to fly. Spells would soon follow.
Auum ran with Ulysan. Two blocks ahead, more men moved onto the street and closed in fast.
‘Next left, on my mark.’
Arrows fell in front and behind. Auum saw them target those carrying the wounded. Kepller saw it too and pushed his helpers away. Ulysan grasped at him.
‘Space,’ shouted Kepller. ‘I’ll be fine.’
With his next pace, an arrow took him through the eye. He fell dead to the ground. Acclan spat out a curse and made to run to the attack. Ulysan caught him by the arm and dragged him down the left-hand turn. Above, a mage tracked them, too high to shoot down. From the right, poison arrows flew out, driving him higher. Ulysan ducked inside a house, shouldering the door in and running through to the back. He burst into the street and across it into another narrow way.
Castings struck the ground in their wake, sending waves of air across their bodies. One piled into the house, shattering its frame and causing a ripple collapse of others in the terrace.
‘Ulysan, back to the fight,’ said Auum.
He looked back over his shoulder. Illast and Bylaan had stopped to lay Ashocc on the ground. Illast closed Ashocc’s eyes and kissed them before running on, fury in his eyes.
Ulysan led them down a wider street. Men surged past the intersection not thirty paces ahead of them, heading for the first circle, while a few spells flew past overhead. Abruptly, the enemy movement was disrupted. Voices were raised in alarm and weapons were raised high.
Auum saw a TaiGethen in the air, swords held out to either side. Thrynn. She landed in the centre of the enemy. Blood misted. Just like Ashocc only Auum wasn’t going to let this brave elf die. Auum stormed into their right flank, chopping his way towards her. Thrynn’s blades were a blur. Men instinctively made a space around her, bringing them onto the blades of Illast, Bylaan, Acclan and Ulysan instead.
Auum butted the man directly in front of him, splitting his nose at the bridge. The man staggered back, raising his blade over his head only to bury the point in the skull of the soldier behind him. Auum slashed a cut across his throat and fell back, finding himself next to Illast.
Illast blocked a blow aside. A second sword point drew blood down his left arm. Bylaan took the pace from the strike and thumped a punch into the soldier’s mouth. Auum glanced back and thrashed a sword across the chest of a man only half turned in his direction. He kicked another in the groin and followed up with a roundhouse to the temple, knocking him down. He heard Thrynn cry out and moved faster, Ulysan joining him.
Men were shouting warnings, calling for cover and screaming for more help. But there were eight TaiGethen among them and it was futile. Auum nearly reached Thrynn from one side and her Tai were almost there the other. Auum dragged a soldier back by his hair and stabbed him low in the back, letting him drop and climbing over his body.
A quick soldier laced a cut into Thrynn’s thigh, unbalancing her. She began to fall and the soldier raised his blade to finish the job. Porrack of her Tai roared and burst through, blocking his blow. But he had left himself open and a sword took him across the stomach, spilling his entrails onto the ground.
Porrack screamed and collapsed. Thrynn roared his name and buried her blade in his killer’s neck.
‘Push!’ called Auum. ‘Straight through.’
He hacked down into an enemy’s leg, shouldered a second aside and scooped Thrynn up with one arm. Auum put his head down and charged the line of soldiers ahead. They were already beset by Ataan, Thrynn’s second, and Auum chopped out with his sword, not knowing what he was hitting. He heard Ulysan holler a war cry followed by the shriek of a dying man.
Auum burst through the line and carried on into a side street, back towards the main road in.
‘Ataan, break and cle
ar!’
The TaiGethen pounded away. Auum released Thrynn and looked back over his shoulder. All the rest were clear. But in front of them men were still streaming into the city and the spells continued to fall. Soon they would be among the city folk and Auum feared the slaughter that would follow.
Katura echoed to the sounds of falling buildings and the roars of men. Smoke billowed into the sky and blew through the ruined streets. The smell of burning wood tainted the air. The ground beneath Merrat vibrated with explosions and to the thundering of human feet as the invaders poured into the city.
He edged a fraction out of his hiding place to look down the street towards the gates. Ysset sprinted into view from the left, tearing down the largely undamaged centre of the Tuali ghetto. She slid to a halt and stepped into the alley, which lay in deep shadow.
‘Corinn’s Tai is coming. There are hundreds of soldiers, guarding a mage count of eighty or so, on her tail. Stiff odds.’
‘Stiff odds for all of us,’ said Merrat. He signalled across the street to where Grafyrre was similarly hidden. ‘Remember: we hit the mages and get out. Lead them onto the next trap. Don’t stop for the fallen. Tai, we pray.’
Merrat dropped his head but a whistle from Grafyrre interrupted his intended brief meditation. Grafyrre tipped his head up. A spotter mage flew the length of the street, above bowshot range, turned and flew back towards the gates. Merrat flattened himself against the side of a building.
As soon as he had passed Merrat leaned out again, just in time to see Corinn and her Tai of Arkiis and Perrar enter the street, the enemy force a few paces behind. The men’s shouts and taunts, which had been muted, became loud and echoing. They were like beasts baying for blood, with no idea they were running headlong into a trap.
‘Hold your nerve, Corinn,’ whispered Merrat.
And so she did. A few arrows fell about her Tai but none really threatened them. Shafts which fell short bounced from the magical shield covering the enemy and were met with angry shouts. She was too close to the soldiers for mages to risk casting and had resisted the urge to up her pace to seek temporary sanctuary in the run of alleys where Merrat hid.
Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen Page 35
