Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen

by James Barclay

  ‘I’m coming, my friend. You will not die alone.’

  Rain beat down on Katura. The falls swelled and the cascades sang in victory. Blood washed off the few remaining cobbles and into the drainage channels running along most of the streets. It pooled, diluted, in the churned mud of the battlegrounds.

  As many as could had crammed onto what remained of the ramparts to see the remnants of the human army flee into the forest. Perhaps six hundred had survived the ferocity of the elves’ revenge, just a tenth of those who had come to conduct their slaughter.

  Fervour had overtaken the city in the wake of the rout. The Katurans had set about clearing their streets of the dead. Thousands of bodies lay witness to the intensity of the battle. Through the night, work continued. The elven dead were taken to the wrecked temples to be prepared for reclamation. The humans were piled on dozens of makeshift pyres out on the scorched open ground and burned, while the wind blew from the cliff tops and the smoke was taken north towards Ysundeneth.

  At first light the following morning the work was still going on. Auum walked with the surviving TaiGethen towards the gates, where the ClawBound had gathered before leaving the city for the last time. Faleen and Hassek, both injured in the avalanche, were helped by others and the walk was necessarily slow.

  Everywhere they went, Katurans paused to thank them, pray with them and bless them. Auum wished that more than fourteen Tais lived to witness their gratitude. Rebuilding the TaiGethen would be a long path which could not begin until their work was complete. More could still fall in the liberation of their cities.

  In the marketplace the benches and gardens had been destroyed but a new flagpole had already been cut and erected. It was still bare but was a symbol of the city and a sign that healing had already begun. Auum saw Nerille talking to Tulan of the Al-Arynaar. He had a jagged cut down the left side of his face, which bore signs of grief for Pelyn’s death, and for Ephram’s.

  ‘You’re leaving, I take it?’ asked Nerille.

  ‘I made a promise to Koel in Ysundeneth and I intend to keep it. Now the humans are broken, we have to cleanse our forest and our cities. Your son?’

  Nerille smiled. ‘Unhurt. It is a miracle. I’m sorry you lost so many.’

  The TaiGethen acknowledged her words.

  ‘Will you rebuild?’ asked Ulysan.

  Nerille blew out her cheeks. ‘There is so much to do, but yes, I think so. I’m sure that in time, when we hear the cities are ours again, some will return to them. Not me. This is my home. My sweat helped to build Katura and I will be reclaimed here.’

  ‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Tulan, how many survived?’

  ‘Thirty-five, though nearly all of us are are injured.’

  ‘It’s a start.’ Auum paused, collecting his thoughts. ‘We all made mistakes and they have cost us dear. The TaiGethen will never desert this city again, as long as one elf remains here. And to you falls the task of rebuilding the Al-Arynaar. Seek warriors from across Calaius and from every thread. We must never be so weak again and we must never forget we are one race against a common enemy.

  ‘I name you Arch.’

  Tulan’s eyes widened. ‘I accept . . . I am honoured. I will not fail you.’

  ‘It is Pelyn’s memory you must not fail, not me.’ Auum turned to Nerille. ‘Call on us whenever you need us. We are honoured to have fought beside your people.’

  He and Nerille embraced.

  ‘Thank you, Auum, for all you have done. Yniss bless you for what lies ahead. Perhaps you will find time to grieve.’

  Auum’s throat threatened to close. ‘I pray for that day.’

  He led the TaiGethen to the gates. The rain had not lessened, but the ClawBound, like every other survivor, were in the open, enjoying its cleansing powers. There were ten remaining pairs and all displayed battle scars. Claws and Bound elves stood when the TaiGethen approached. Serrin, his right arm covered in a healing balm, walked forward. Auum did the same, the two meeting between their peoples.

  ‘You saved us,’ said Auum. ‘You turned the battle. Every living elf owes you a debt they cannot hope to repay.’

  Serrin looked embarrassed. ‘We remembered who we were, and that is all. You are the one who saved the race of elves.’

  Serrin placed hand on Auum’s shoulder and Auum returned the gesture. The two old friends dragged each other into an embrace that released a century of pain and misunderstanding.

  ‘I would have it as it used to be between our callings,’ said Serrin. ‘Back in the early years.’

  ‘That is all I have ever wanted,’ said Auum.

  Serrin smiled. ‘There is much for you to forgive.’

  ‘It is forgiven.’

  Around them, the panthers purred in contentment and their Bound elves held out their hands in new greeting. The TaiGethen crossed the space to welcome them and Ulysan’s embrace with Sikaant was long and joyous.

  ‘You’re travelling to Ysundeneth?’ asked Serrin

  Auum nodded. ‘If we can free the enslaved, we can overwhelm what defences men still have. And if we can reclaim Ysundeneth, the other cities will fall. Man has no courage without his magic.’

  Serrin sniffed the air. ‘Leave those in the forest to us. To hunt them will be joy undimmed.’

  ‘Find Takaar,’ said Auum. ‘Tell him what has happened here.’

  ‘Run fast, Auum.’

  ‘Hunt well, Serrin.’

  Auum watched the ClawBound flow across the open ground with its pyres and scorched earth and disappear into the eaves of the forest. One more task lay ahead.

  ‘Faleen, Hassek. Stay here. Recover your strength and then head for Aryndeneth. We will find you there. Tais, we move.’

  In the darkness of the panoramic room Ystormun tried to still his shaking hands. He had scanned the mana spectrum again and again. He had searched for the signatures of his Communion hosts over the endless miles of forest to the very borders of Katura and he had found nothing.

  The silence shouted at him.

  And out in the city the Sharps were singing.

  Why were they singing? They could not know something he did not. But they could count the days and with each day that passed without word of men’s victory, hope grew in their filthy elven hearts.

  Ystormun walked to the windows and stared out over the rainforest.

  Soon the cadre would be inside his head again, and this time his assurances would not be accepted. He had nothing new to say to them. He had no information of any kind.

  Ystormun took a long, shivering breath and realised that he was scared.

  Chapter 39

  A human with a hand outstretched in friendship holds a taipan’s fangs in his palm.

  TaiGethen saying

  ‘Hello, old friend.’

  Takaar had slipped silently into the fresh-scented bedchamber. Night was full but Garan was seated in his chair, the darkness close about him.

  ‘You were expecting me,’ said Takaar, moving towards the other chair. He raised his eyebrows. Garan was following him. ‘You can see me?’

  ‘Yes and yes,’ said Garan. He sounded better than he had at any point in the last twenty years. ‘I have friends who were looking for you, or rather for your aura, and those same friends have given me the benefit of temporary night sight.’

  ‘You come closer to being an elf every day,’ said Takaar.

  ‘While you get no closer to being funny,’ said Garan.

  There was a prolonged silence between them borne entirely of acceptance. Takaar sat on the bed unable to look Garan in the eye for the moment.

  ‘So are you going to tell me?’

  ‘Tell you what?’ asked Takaar.

  Garan shook his head. ‘Who won?’

  Takaar stilled. Inside his head his tormentor was roaring with laughter. The ClawBound had found him less than a day from Ysundeneth and he should have realised: with mage communication gone, no one here would know.

  String it out. Make him squirm.

 
; ‘We did,’ said Takaar. ‘None will return.’

  Pathetic.

  Garan put his hands to his mouth, and when he finally spoke sounded more ancient than ever.

  ‘I tried to warn him. And he only did this so he could send the army back to Balaia. He’s weak now. Weaker than ever.’

  ‘After all the trouble we’ve been to, I sincerely hope so.’

  Garan chuckled, a reaction that quickly turned into a hacking cough.

  ‘Not bad,’ he conceded, then he sobered. ‘A lot of wasted lives.’

  ‘You were never invited here. It was always going to end this way.’

  Garan inclined his head. ‘But still you need help. Ystormun remains too powerful for you. There’s someone I want you to meet. Now don’t ov—’

  Takaar heard the door to the washroom open. He pushed off the bed with his hands, turned a quick backward somersault and landed. He pivoted on his left hip and jammed his right foot under the jaw of the man who had emerged. The man cursed and Takaar pushed his foot in, threatening to choke him.

  ‘Relax, Takaar. He’s a friend of mine,’ said Garan. ‘Stein, I did tell you to wait until I called you. I told you he was dangerous.’

  Takaar stared at the odd-looking human for a moment before removing his foot.

  ‘What are you?’ he demanded in the language of man.

  ‘He is Stein,’ said Garan. ‘He leads a team of twenty-five mages. They, Takaar, are my gift to you.’

  Takaar turned to face Garan. ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know how many of your TaiGethen are coming here, but they won’t be enough, not without magic. Stein and his men believe as I do. Calaius must be rid of Ystormun because the power this territory grants him and his cadre is too great. There’s a war coming in our country, Takaar. Ystormun and his ilk must not win it. If we weaken him here, it will give us a chance.’

  Takaar walked towards Garan. He heard Stein follow him.

  ‘What will you do?’ Takaar asked.

  ‘Whatever we can to keep Ystormun and his men at bay,’ said Stein.

  ‘We’ll need the wards removed from the slave pens, the gates and the piazza temple walls,’ said Takaar. ‘And you’ll have to stay clear when the elves are released. Many humans will die.’

  ‘You’ll trust me?’ asked Stein.

  ‘Garan trusts you. I trust Garan.’

  ‘Thank you, Takaar.’ Garan nodded. ‘And now, Stein, you have to leave. You know why. I’m tired, and Takaar has a promise to keep.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ asked Stein.

  ‘I’ve had a century to mull it over,’ said Garan.

  Stein shook Garan’s hand. ‘You’ve done the right thing.’

  ‘Eventually,’ said Garan.

  Stein looked at Takaar. ‘I’ll be outside. We must speak, lay plans.’

  ‘I’ll find you,’ Takaar replied.

  Stein closed the door behind him and Takaar knelt in front of Garan. Garan put a clammy hand on his cheek.

  ‘At last,’ he said. ‘Don’t get all emotional on me.’

  ‘You will be a legend among elves when our history is written.’

  ‘I seriously doubt that,’ said Garan. ‘I want to thank you, Takaar.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For talking to an old man, for keeping him at least partly sane. My loneliest and most painful hours have been eased by the thought of your conversation.’

  ‘You showed mercy when I carried Katyett from here,’ said Takaar. ‘That is something I could never ignore or forget.’

  ‘You have a chance now,’ said Garan. ‘Stein is talented and his men are loyal. Don’t fuck this up. My ghost will be watching you.’

  ‘You don’t believe that.’

  ‘No, but it makes a good legend, doesn’t it?’

  Takaar smiled. ‘It does at that. How shall it be?’

  ‘Quick,’ said Garan.

  ‘I can promise you that.’

  ‘Good. Then see it done, my friend.’

  ‘Goodbye, Garan.’

  ‘Goodbye, Takaar.’

  Takaar’s dagger pierced Garan’s temple, and he watched the one good human die.

  That was well done. Now don’t get all emotional about it. Oh. Too late.

  It had been a bittersweet run back to Ysundeneth. Auum’s route took him past the Haliath Vale on his way to the Ix and the humans’ barges, there to discover the Apposans’ fate. They had taken a fearful battering. Two out of three were either dead or badly wounded.

  Both Boltha and Methian had survived, but memories of the Scar haunted their faces and Auum cursed that two such old and brave elves should have had to witness such times.

  Auum’s arrival with the TaiGethen had been greeted with joy, but while Boltha asserted that the sacrifice of the Apposans had been worthwhile, his people’s faces belied his words.

  Knowing their passage downriver to the city would be swift, Auum had invited Boltha and all who would travel with him to come to assist in the liberation of Ysundeneth. Fifty volunteered, Boltha among them, but Methian refused. He chose to return to Katura to help Tulan rebuild their city and the Al-Arynaar.

  The barge the elves took passed sites of conflict along much of the length of the Ix. Body parts and bones were scattered along the banks, animals taking what little still remained. The forest bore the scars of human magic, but the river itself was quiet, almost reverential.

  Auum landed a half-day from Ysundeneth, well out of sight of any who might be watching. He led his people along the river bank on the easy ground, trampled flat by men’s boots. With every step he considered his options, and every one led back to the same scrap of knowledge: without magic they would never be able to enter the city.

  Takaar had said he would be waiting for him, but it was still a surprise when Auum saw the wild-looking elf emerge from the treeline two hours south of the city. Auum shook his head. He called a halt to rest.

  Takaar spread his arms wide and had that ridiculous beatific expression on his face. Auum went cold at the sight of it.

  ‘What have you done, Takaar?’

  Grafyrre, Merrat and Ulysan were with Auum.

  Takaar raised his eyebrows. ‘You make my arrangements for our victory sound like a crime.’

  Auum exchanged glances with Ulysan.

  ‘Where are all your followers?’ asked Ulysan.

  Takaar waved a hand to the east. ‘Safe in Loshaaren by now, I hope, and perhaps even beginning their training. Leaving me to show you into Ysundeneth and the gift Garan gave me.’

  Auum tensed. ‘There is nothing a human could give you that would be to our benefit.’

  ‘No? Not even if it was the power to dismiss the wards about the gates, to clear the slave pen fences of alarms and to cow the strength of Ystormun himself?’

  ‘You have got to be joking,’ snapped Auum. ‘He’s given you mages? Human mages? I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that even you would be so . . . so naive.’

  Takaar’s face clouded with anger. ‘These mages are with us. They are twenty-five-strong and they want him gone as much as we do.’

  ‘And why do you think that is?’ shouted Auum, grabbing Takaar’s collar and pulling him nose to nose. ‘So they can lord over us afterwards! You are repeating Llyron’s mistakes. You’re as arrogant as Sildaan and I will not let you do this to us.’

  Auum threw Takaar back. He did not stumble but came forward again, his eyes locking with Auum’s and his expression clear and complete, without a hint of his madness.

  ‘Without them we cannot hope to drive Ystormun away. We can’t defeat his magic without having some of our own.’ Takaar spread his hands. ‘Auum, you must believe me. You must trust me. Look at how few you are and remember what Ystormun did to Katyett. Without magic to aid us, he can do the same to all of us and will be free to continue his domination. For Katyett’s memory, for Pelyn and Elyss, you must trust me. I am not a traitor.’

  Auum hated it right into the depths of his soul but he kne
w Takaar was right. He’d known they would need help all along but he’d managed to persuade himself that the Il-Aryn would somehow be strong enough in time.

  ‘Yniss forgive me,’ he said. ‘All right. You have your wish. Just keep them away from me and tell them that if one of them so much as twitches the wrong way, the TaiGethen will slaughter them in a heartbeat. You tell them that.’

  ‘They already know,’ said Takaar.

  Auum turned to his people.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘This ends tonight.’

  The gates of Ysundeneth were shut. A trio of guards stood atop them, staring out into the night and the din of the rainforest. Theirs was the simplest of duties; any trouble visited upon them would be preceded by trouble on the Ultan bridge. But the mages on the bridge belonged to Stein and they had undone every ward protecting it, and the bridge guards had never known what hit them.

  Auum moved silently beneath the gates. He motioned Ulysan to his left and Merrat to his right. They climbed fast and silent. Above them the guards talked and laughed and their fire crackled away happily. Auum signalled. Three TaiGethen hands reached up, three throats were slit and three bodies dumped to the ground in front of the gates.

  Auum dropped into the city. The singing he had heard a few hours before had subsided and the slaves were quiet, sleeping if they could. Ulysan and Merrat unbolted the gates and edged them open a crack to allow the TaiGethen and the Apposans into the city. Behind them came Takaar with five human mages.

  ‘The wards are gone at the pens?’ he asked Takaar.

  ‘Yes, and Stein’s mages have gone too. Any you find there are enemies.’

  Auum looked at the mages with Takaar.

  ‘Your friends are all going to die,’ he said.

  ‘They are not our friends,’ said one.

  ‘A pity,’ said Auum. ‘Tais, to the boatyards. Boltha, bring your people too. I have a promise to keep.’

  Auum didn’t trust the human mages and he kept the advance into the city slow, quiet and careful. Patrols were few and weak, just pairs or trios of soldiers with no idea what was stalking through the streets they thought their own. None of them would live once they found out.