Beyond the Mists of Katura e-3

by James Barclay

  ‘It was unavoidable,’ said Auum.

  He gripped Drech’s shoulder and rushed him through the guard and into the city before letting him go. Beyond the gates the night was ablaze. Horsemen thundered back into the city. Volleys of arrows and more spells covered their retreat. The last of the elves ran in, Auum seeing one of his TaiGethen in the arms of another, bleeding from a wound to the head. Takaar was carried in on the back of one of his Senserii.

  Ulysan limped up to Auum, blood coming from a wound in his calf. Auum sheathed his blades.

  ‘That could have been worse,’ said Ulysan.

  ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘Stray arrow,’ said Ulysan. ‘Not deep.’

  ‘Get it seen to.’

  Auum paused and drew breath. Now they were inside, the elves had stopped, as much cowed by the alien atmosphere of the city as they were fatigued by the run. Many were sitting by the side of the cobbled street, while people were emerging from tall houses to see who had come to their aid. Horsemen milled about, and from further up the street of tight-packed buildings he heard shouting.

  Auum pushed through the crowd and a smile broke on his face.

  ‘I see you made it,’ he said.

  Stein shook his hand. ‘Did you like the welcome committee?’

  ‘Just what we needed.’

  ‘Bring your people to the college. We can billet them all there, get the wounded seen to and work out what’s next. This isn’t going to go unchallenged by the Wytch Lords.’

  Chapter 13

  How can they live like this? Their houses loom over them like cruel masters, their streets throng with people packed so tight you cannot draw breath and their food is bland and colourless. Small wonder their faces look so grey.

  Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen

  They had reached the city with fewer casualties than Auum feared. Three Il-Aryn were dead, another five were wounded but responding. One TaiGethen had fallen and another three had severe wounds. Auum did not expect them to survive the night despite the ministrations of Julatsa’s keenest mages.

  Grafyrre had arrived with his full complement of raiders about two hours later. They’d crawled their way to the walls and scaled them, surprising a defender or two before heading for the college and some hard-earned rest.

  The college itself was dominated by its tower, the building that housed the growing Heart of Julatsa, the very centre of Julatsan magic. Auum felt burdened by the atmosphere within the building and knew it to be the pressure of the magical focus created by the Heart.

  After a bath and the application of balms to ease a few muscle aches and to soothe the cut on his face, Auum had been led to a large circular chamber high up in the tower itself. From there he could see the city from the balcony that encircled the chamber. It was about half the size of Ysundeneth and felt cramped. Everything was forced within the walls, buildings rose three or four storeys high and the hubbub of noise was ceaseless.

  The walls and guard towers were manned by swordsmen, archers and mages, a powerful defence against the attacking Wesmen, and yet within the atmosphere was anxious. Presumably food supplies would be getting short before too long, and there was always the fear of that which you could hear but not see.

  The arrival of the elves had caused quite a stir and had, he was told, lifted the spirits of the entire city. The apparent ease with which they had broken through the enemy ranks had encouraged the populace to believe that victory was possible. But Auum did not like the role in which he and his small band of raiders were being cast. They were not here as saviours of the human race.

  That thought remained with him when he was invited to sit at a long oval table with elves and men, most dressed in lavish robes that presumably signified some sort of status within the college and city. There were senior soldiers present too. Auum sat flanked by Stein and Drech on one side, Takaar on the other. Ulysan was on a chair behind him and Gilderon sat behind Takaar.

  Twenty people in all were at the meeting, and the round of introductions made Auum’s head spin. High mage, mayor, elder council, general of the militia, general of the college army. . and an Il-Aryn iad called Kerela who had achieved high office. She was someone Auum needed to speak to in private. The meeting took place in a mixture of elvish and human, with translators at the ears of any struggling to understand one or the other.

  ‘First of all my apologies for keeping you from your beds or for dragging you from them,’ said the High Mage, Sipharec. He was a middle-aged man, clean-shaven, tall and slender to the point of being gaunt. His eyes were a powerful bright blue but there was something behind them, a sadness. ‘But what we have to discuss cannot wait until dawn when the Wesmen resume their efforts to knock down our walls. Walls which we have defended for more than ten days without help from any on the outside, until now. Auum, Drech, Takaar and all your people, welcome, and thank you for giving us fresh hope. Stein, I doubted you could succeed. I am sorry.’

  Stein shrugged. ‘It was without doubt a fool’s errand, but this fool is a lucky one.’

  ‘Auum, I know you have questions,’ said Sipharec in very good elvish. ‘Perhaps you can start the debate.’

  Auum inclined his head. ‘My questions are simple enough, but there is a great deal I don’t understand and I will not commit my people to a conflict I do not understand. We’re here; we have secured our mages, and I am content with that. We share a common enemy and I am content with that too. But I am concerned and confused by the alliance you have with the other colleges and I am most concerned by what will happen in this country when the Wytch Lords are defeated.’

  Sipharec frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand your concern. With the Wytch Lords gone, we’ll have peace here and will begin to grow again as colleges. Julatsa will seek to strengthen its bonds with the elves and build a deterrent against any other Wesman incursion. It’s a dream as we sit here, but not something that should give rise to concerns, is it?’

  ‘I’ll make it plainer,’ said Auum. ‘The Wytch Lords are invading because they want to secure Dawnthief, the spell that seals the stupidity of human magical research for ever. What happens to that spell when the Wytch Lords are defeated?’

  Sipharec’s glare at Stein was sharp and poisonous.

  ‘The search will continue,’ said the High Mage evenly. ‘The spell cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.’

  Auum sighed and felt the weight of magic rest more heavily on his soul than ever.

  ‘Those who seek to own this spell are, by dint of their desire, the wrong hands,’ said Auum. ‘Tell me, what would you do with it, should you find it?’

  Sipharec smiled indulgently. ‘Keep it away from those who would research it further and who would use it as a rod of power.’

  ‘And these people you fear, they represent, who is it. . Xetesk and Dordover? They will fight you for it. You do see that? The end of one war will be the prelude to another as you stab each other in the back for something no one should own. And ownership risks us all. The innocent of Calaius and Balaia will live only at the whim of a group of mages. No one who owns this spell could resist its charms for ever. No elf can tolerate this.’

  Auum stared squarely at Kerela. The iad met his gaze but could not hold it.

  ‘Something to say, Kerela?’

  ‘You misunderstand the motives of this college,’ she said.

  ‘Do I? I know you are the only college under siege and hence, to my mind, the college the Wytch Lords feel poses them the most risk. Why is that?’

  ‘No, no, no.’ The bass voice belonged to the college’s general, Harild. He was an old man but his eyes sparkled with vitality and his body had not withered. ‘Two things have combined to bring the Wesmen to our walls, and neither is our progress in finding Dawnthief. First, we are the closest college for invasion forces coming around the Blackthornes from the north. Second, we have elves here, and the Wytch Lords reserve a special hatred for the elves. Can’t think why.’

  Harild raised
his eyebrows and Auum almost smiled.

  ‘That doesn’t explain your desire to own Dawnthief. According to Stein, no one knows where this thing is, is that right?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kerela. ‘Septern’s Manse was destroyed utterly when the Wesmen attacked it seeking Dawnthief. We assume the secrets are there, but they remain hidden from us.’

  ‘Then surely it is in the right place now — out of reach of all. Am I being naive to suggest that if you really want to progress, you must agree not to seek it and make this location off limits. Guard it if you have to. If no one owns the spell, no one can use it, and I for one will sleep more easily.’

  ‘It’s a lovely plan, but Xetesk will never stop searching. They are terrified of others, particularly Dordover, finding it first.’

  ‘Forgive me,’ said Sipharec. ‘But is this pertinent to our current situation?’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Auum, ignoring Sipharec. ‘Which college has the largest army?’

  General Harild shrugged. ‘Xetesk, easily. Why?’

  ‘And yet they haven’t managed to send even a token force to your aid? Not a solitary mage?’

  Sipharec spread his hands. ‘They have an invasion of their own to deal with.’

  ‘How wide can this pass be if it takes three colleges to repel an invasion there?’ Auum looked around the table and was dismayed at what he saw in the expressions on all their faces.

  Only Stein could see where he was leading. ‘Understone Pass will take a large cart and team very comfortably,’ he said.

  Auum shrugged. ‘Allies, you say? Seems to me they are sacrificing you. Once you’re out of the game it’s one less hand grasping for the spell, isn’t it?’

  He was right and they knew it, though none of them would admit it. Sipharec exchanged glances with both Kerela and Harild.

  ‘So where does that leave you? Will you help us?’ asked Sipharec.

  ‘The Wytch Lords must be destroyed or they will destroy Calaius. This is where the strength to defeat them lies. But I will not leave us at greater risk in the aftermath of their defeat. I will not fight alongside Xetesk; their true motives are plain enough. And you’ll have to decide where you line up. If I learn we are being used to further anyone’s claims to Dawnthief, I will withdraw every elven warrior and Il-Aryn and return to Calaius. Take our chances there.’

  Takaar cleared his throat. He’d been fidgeting ever since the meeting had begun. Auum tensed but said nothing.

  ‘If I may speak,’ said Takaar.

  Kerela favoured him with a warm smile. ‘The chamber is yours.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Takaar stood and walked around the table as he spoke, stopping to rest a friendly hand on a shoulder or refill a wine or water cup. He didn’t get too near Auum and repeatedly worried at his left arm with the fingernails of his right hand. Auum determined to relax and watch the performance, let him say what he felt he must. Either his instability would trip him up or his supreme arrogance would undermine him.

  ‘We do not all think as Auum thinks. Auum is a warrior. He is the finest ever to grace the TaiGethen and so the finest ever to set foot in your country. He understands speed and strength of arms. He knows a hundred ways to kill you with foot, fist and blade. But he doesn’t understand magic. He has no conception of the power a union of magics can generate. The Wytch Lords fear a union of elven and human magic, and that is why they are outside these walls. Not to fight alongside Xetesk is patently absurd. Only together can we defeat them.

  ‘And while Auum’s TaiGethen are a blessing in every fight, they are not critical. My Il-Aryn are. They answer to me and I will bring them to your aid.’

  Drech stood, slapping the table. ‘You do not command the Il-Aryn,’ he said. ‘I do.’

  Takaar’s face was stone for a moment before his lips twitched and he muttered words in ancient elvish, presumably to his tormentor. A smile slid across his expression but the fury in his eyes was raw and unchecked. Auum sat back, satisfied that the lucidity of Takaar’s speech was about to be comprehensively undone.

  ‘You are an administrator,’ said Takaar, moving steadily around the table towards Drech. Auum could see Kerela was desperate to intervene but at a loss as to how. ‘You organise the timetable of lectures and the menu in the refectory. You are no leader, you are no commander. You are no visionary. Who do they look to when they need inspiration or spiritual help? Not you, Drech, never you. You are closed; I am open.’

  ‘It really is amazing how little you see, perched in your hut at the top of the hill,’ said Drech. ‘We all admire your insight and your teachings. You are the one who understands most about the energies of the Il-Aryn. And while you can impress the young, wrap them in the stories you weave, they would not follow you into a stream to go for a paddle. They boarded ship because I asked them to. You are here because they love you, as they would a charming but infirm grandparent. But they do not follow you. You lost that honour on Hausolis and you will never get it back.’

  Auum felt the crushing weight of magic across his back and shoulders. Tension filled the chamber. Kerela was out of her chair and running around the table towards Takaar.

  Drech was staring at Takaar, fear on his face. Takaar pushed a hand towards him and he flew back, crashing into Ulysan, who caught him before he fell to the floor.

  ‘Takaar, no!’ screamed Kerela.

  ‘We shall see where the strength really lies,’ spat Takaar, continuing his march around the table.

  Drech was scrambling to his feet, his hands held out in front of him, desperately trying to form something to protect himself.

  ‘This chamber will not see magic cast,’ roared Sipharec.

  ‘Takaar, stop!’ said Kerela, laying a hand on his arm.

  Takaar stared at her and Auum saw her courage wither. She stumbled back a pace, and Auum surged from his chair and onto the table, heading for Takaar.

  ‘Gilderon!’ he called. ‘Help me.’

  Takaar had eyes only for Drech. He stopped, appeared to be gathering something in his hands and then slowly began to close them into fists. Drech clutched at his head and shrieked. Auum dived across the table and took Takaar about the chest and shoulders, bearing him onto the floor to slide into a wall.

  Drech’s agonised cries ceased. Auum looked into Takaar’s eyes and punched him on the chin, rapping his head against the stone floor and knocking him unconscious. He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him up.

  ‘Get off him!’ hissed Gilderon.

  Auum spun as he stood. ‘You were too slow, Gilderon. You failed him. Don’t let it happen again.’

  ‘You do not touch him,’ said Gilderon.

  ‘The next time he threatens an elf I’ll do more than touch him. Get him out of here and keep him calm. See that he behaves.’

  Gilderon stared at Auum, the muscles in his face at war as he debated deep inside whether to obey. He put a hand on Auum’s chest and pushed him away from Takaar, who was groaning and muttering on the floor. Gilderon stooped and picked him up, placing him over one shoulder. He turned and strode from the chamber.

  Auum ignored the Julatsans and Kerela, who stared at him, demanding answers. Drech was sitting up, rubbing at his temples while Ulysan held a cup of water for him.

  ‘How are you?’ Auum asked, kneeling by the Il-Aryn master and noting the tremors running through his body.

  ‘I’ll live,’ said Drech, but the eyes he turned to Auum betrayed his fear.

  ‘What did he do this time?’ asked Auum.

  ‘He’s so fast,’ said Drech, half to himself. ‘Impossibly fast. He made the air hard as stone to push me over. And he was trying to drag the blood from my brain. He’s dangerous, Auum.’

  ‘I warned you. Whatever he is to his beloved students, his ego cannot handle the merest bruise. If you challenge him, he reacts like a child. He cannot contain his emotions.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Drech. ‘I thought this would focus him, give him a role he could play and be content with. H
is talents are so great and he has apparently shared so little. Just look what he can do when he puts his mind to it.’

  ‘I saw the ship destroyed and I heard about the clay wall. But I saw this too. He acts on pure impulse. None of us can afford that. If you can’t control him, he’ll have to go. I’ll see the Senserii get him to Korina,’ said Auum.

  Drech reached out a hand and Ulysan pulled him to his feet.

  ‘I’ll speak to the Il-Aryn. Tell them Takaar needs rest and help. I’m sure I can make them understand.’

  Auum took Drech’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead.

  ‘I’m sorry it came to this. I’m sorry you couldn’t control him. No one can.’

  ‘Still, it makes you part of the exclusive club of those Takaar has tried to kill,’ said Stein.

  Drech almost smiled. ‘I’d rather not be a member.’

  Sipharec cleared his throat. ‘I think you owe the council an explanation.’

  ‘We cannot afford to lose Takaar,’ said Kerela. ‘His powers could change the course of any battle.’

  ‘You can’t afford to pay the price of those powers,’ said Auum. ‘You’ve seen the precipice he flirts with. It is like that with every breath he takes. He might destroy a thousand enemies in one moment and murder the finest of us the next. He must go.’

  ‘And what of us?’ asked Sipharec. ‘What of Julatsa and the war against the Wytch Lords?’

  ‘Well I don’t know about you, but to my mind the only way to get Takaar out of here and away to Korina is to break this siege. It’s one thing getting in and quite another getting out. Tomorrow we fight.’

  Chapter 14

  Clarity from confusion, light from darkness, focus from fog. The Il-Aryn mind is conflicted. The more conflicted, the greater the potential. Mine is the most conflicted of all. Rarely do I wish it was not so.

  Takaar, Father of the Il-Aryn

  ‘I said what needed to be said.’

  And did what needed doing?