Beyond the Mists of Katura e-3

by James Barclay

  No one had escaped completely unscathed, and in addition to those who would not last the night there were others who could not survive the journey Auum was planning. That was another reason he was calm; it finally all made some sort of sense. But there were a few loose ends.

  Stein and Merrat had been with the Xeteskian mage all the way to this chill, fireless campsite on the banks of a narrow stream that almost certainly fed Triverne Lake. His name, Auum had been told, was Ryol. He was a young man of very average proportions barring his face, which was swollen from his wounds.

  He had not been treated unkindly during his captivity. In fact he had not been treated at all. He had his own water and scraps of food, which no one had seen fit to take away, nor had he been spoken to at all other than to find out his name.

  Ryol had tried to ask questions about his likely fate and had promised, so Stein said, to tell them anything as long as they didn’t kill him. No one had responded and that silence had worked its way into the core of his will. When Auum finally walked over to question him, he was sitting on a flat rock staring at the water in the dark, seeing it sparkle in the starlight.

  Stein translated Auum’s questions and Ryol’s responses.

  ‘Nyann,’ said Auum. ‘Hassek. Vaart. Iriess. Jerren. Some of them were my friends for thousands of years. They were all on their way to join your people and fight a common enemy. You murdered them without honour. So you will answer my questions truthfully because there is no limit to the pain I can inflict on you in the name of Shorth and I already know you have no stomach for it.’

  Ryol shuddered and held up his hands.

  ‘Just give me a chance to answer. Please.’

  ‘It is more than you gave my friends,’ said Auum. ‘That must make me merciful. Why would you kill us rather than let us fight with you?’

  ‘We. . we didn’t need you at the pass.’

  ‘That is no answer; you should have just sent us where we were needed. Surely the pass is the focal point of the battle?’

  Ryol’s eyes gave away his torment as he balanced betrayal against his own imagined pain.

  ‘We were ordered to attack. The pass is forbidden to you.’

  ‘To the elves?’ asked Auum. Ryol hesitated and Auum made the connection. ‘No. To anyone from Julatsa?’

  Ryol shrugged, unwilling to speak the words. Stein drew in a sharp breath.

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Ryol.

  Auum pounced on him, bearing him to the ground flat on his back and placing a knife to his throat. Ryol whimpered and tried to back away into the stream but Auum held him firmly.

  ‘Speak. I can bleed you very slowly.’

  ‘Just rumours,’ said Ryol, his eyes on Stein, seeking mercy. He would find none there. ‘I heard. . I’m just a mage — they don’t tell me anything.’

  ‘Tell us what you’ve heard.’ Auum did not release the mage but withdrew the knife. ‘Whether you live or die is in your hands.’

  He waited while Ryol drew breath, a little colour returning to his cheeks.

  ‘There was a story that Julatsa was close to getting Dawnthief. Everyone knows the Circle Seven wouldn’t like that, right?’

  ‘Who are the Circle Seven?’ asked Auum.

  ‘The rulers of Xetesk,’ said Stein. ‘Not the most pleasant of men.’

  ‘Continue,’ said Auum.

  ‘So they decided to take Julatsa out of the race,’ said Ryol. ‘Or so I heard. I mean, this attack does back that up, right? You do believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘How long have you been here?’ asked Auum.

  ‘Since before the siege was laid at Julatsa. We had orders to stop any Julatsan force. We knew you were coming — we had word.’

  Auum stared into Ryol’s eyes and saw the desperation haunting them. He let the young mage sit up.

  ‘Don’t as much as twitch,’ said Auum before turning to Stein. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Well it explains the loss of contact at the Manse. You?’

  ‘Why stop there?’ said Auum. ‘It’s just like I said. They want Julatsa gone.’

  ‘That’s a big step. Killing a team at the Manse is low, but destroying a whole college? A whole city?’ Stein was shaking his head.

  Auum turned back to Ryol. ‘Is the battle at Understone Pass really so fierce it takes up all of your forces?’

  Ryol smiled and Stein punched him square on his broken nose. Ryol squealed and fell back, clutching his face as fresh blood poured from his nostrils.

  ‘Funny, is it?’ shouted Stein. ‘Hundreds of my people died because your masters deem us surplus to their requirements! Do you think I’d worry too much at seeing one more Xeteskian perish?’

  Auum raised his hands to Stein for calm.

  ‘What did you just say?’ he asked. Stein translated. Auum nodded. ‘You see, Ryol, I may not hate you but my friend here does. Answer my question or I may not stop him punching you again. And again and again.’

  Ryol mumbled, blood dribbling down his face, ‘Seems to me you can stop anyone you choose.’

  ‘Choice is something I have and you have not. Answer. What’s happening at the pass?’

  Auum could see Ryol weighing up how much his answer might cost both him and his college. Auum could respect his loyalty, however strained it was by his current predicament.

  ‘You’ll let me go? Really?’

  Auum shrugged. ‘We should really stake you out with your entrails about you for the beasts to feast on. That’s what would happen on Calaius to one who murdered so many elves. But you. . well, mercy is probably the right course. I can see you did not do this by choice.’

  ‘I’m sorry so many of your people have died today.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Auum. ‘That makes a difference. Now, the pass.’

  ‘There is no battle there,’ said Ryol in lowered tones. He wiped away the blood dripping from his nose onto his lips. ‘The Wesmen are inside and we are outside. No blow has been struck and no spell cast there for at least fifteen days.’

  ‘It’s a stand-off?’ asked Auum.

  Ryol shook his head, keen to speak now. ‘No, there is an agreement. I don’t know what it means other than that no blood has been spilt in the pass for a long time. Can I go now?’

  Auum was looking at Stein. Even as he was translating for Auum, his eyes were widening as if he was receiving some great wisdom.

  ‘It all makes sense now,’ said Stein. ‘How so many Wesmen could have been at our gates so quickly.’

  Stein had to stop. He put a hand to his mouth and sat down on a slab of rock, his feet on the edge of the stream. He stared at Ryol.

  ‘His college has made a pact with the Wesmen, with the Wytch Lords. Dear Gods burning, we should have listened to you, Auum, though it’s worse than even you think. Xetesk wasn’t just allowing the Wesmen to attack us, the Circle Seven sent them to our gates.’

  ‘And this is all about Dawnthief?’ asked Auum.

  ‘What else can it be?’

  ‘Then why stop at Julatsa? Xetesk has freed the Wesmen and the shamen to attack not just you but the other colleges too. That’ll leave Xetesk and the Wytch Lords in a straight fight — winner takes Dawnthief and Balaia along with it. I told you we were allied to the wrong side.’

  ‘I’ve got to. . What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Later,’ said Auum. ‘I think our friend has had enough of our questions.’

  Stein nodded vaguely. His hand was trembling when he raised it to scratch his forehead. He looked pale, haunted even.

  ‘I must speak to Sipharec. They have to warn Lystern and Dordover what is happening. They’re going to come back, aren’t they? The Wesmen.’

  ‘I think that’s the plan. Right, Ryol, on your feet.’

  Stein was still translating but Ryol seemed to understand anyway.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You fulfilled your part of the bargain,’ said Auum. ‘Now on your way. Don�
��t look back and don’t even think to cast. My elves are quiet and they kill faster than you can work a spell.’

  ‘Of course,’ gushed Ryol. ‘I would never. . I mean-’

  ‘Go.’

  Ryol could not believe his luck. He turned and began to jog away, thought better of it and walked instead. With a glance at Stein, Auum paced silently up behind him, drew a sword from its scabbard and chopped it hard and double-handed into Ryol’s neck, beheading him. His body flopped to the ground and his head bounced into the stream with a heavy splash.

  ‘Fuck!’ yelled Stein. ‘Auum, what have you done?’

  Auum turned back, wiping his blade on the dead man’s jacket before resheathing it. Stein was staring alternately at him and Ryol’s headless corpse, gesturing uselessly.

  ‘You said you were going to show him mercy!’

  ‘That is mercy,’ said Auum. ‘He deserved a far more painful death. He killed my people, he showed no honour and he betrayed his own to save his life. Shorth will judge him. Now I will speak to my people. I need you with me, Stein. We have our countries to save.’

  Chapter 22

  After all we went through it was astounding to discover there were five more like Ystormun and that he was by no means the worst of them.

  Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen

  Ystormun strode across the rotunda, desperate to reach his rooms and rest. But he was not quick enough. Giriamun and Weyamun spotted him from across the great chamber. They were seated in two of the six ornate but terribly uncomfortable thrones built for the ceremonies of obedience and the swearing of loyalty from the Wesmen lords at the heart of the temple of Parve, but they pushed aside the advisors and slaves attending them in order to stand. Giriamun called his name.

  His tone was laced with such malice that the mortals in the rotunda scattered, seeking refuge from whatever was to be unleashed about them. Ystormun paused mid-stride and held his head high, though he wanted nothing more than to let it fall to his chest, such was his weariness.

  Instead he turned and walked towards them, steadily and with pride in his bearing. Weyamun chose simply to glare but Giriamun was allowing mana to crackle across his face and down his cloaked arms to spit from his fingertips.

  ‘Very impressive,’ said Ystormun. ‘Do you have some new slave you wish to amaze with your little show?’

  ‘With your every move, meddling in tasks not appointed to you, you weaken us further,’ said Giriamun, shutting off the mana stream. ‘And you do not even show us the respect of admitting your failures.’

  ‘I think the real sadness is that you were so absent from your duties that you did not notice my attempts to advance our cause until now.’

  ‘Absent?’ roared Weyamun. Chill fled around the rotunda. There were mortals screaming nearby. ‘Your hold on your position in the cadre is wafer thin, Ystormun. Our tasks took us to the brokering of a deal that will all but hand us Dawnthief on a plate. Meanwhile, you were stealing my forces and failing utterly to break Julatsa. Not only that; hundreds of your precious elven enemies escaped and you have no idea where they are.’

  ‘That is an interesting take on events, Weyamun, but I would expect little more from one as feeble-minded as you. You were a very long time negotiating something that will leave our ground forces scattered across Balaia and vulnerable to Xetesk the moment they choose to betray us — which of course they will and sooner than we think to betray them. It is a fool’s pact that we did not need to accept.’

  ‘Preposterous!’ spluttered Giriamun.

  ‘It is nothing of the kind, and you will see, in the coming days, that my actions with Julatsa were wise indeed. Significant numbers of our forces remain alive. Many elves died, many mages and many of the TaiGethen too, though I admit Auum still eludes me. But he will perish trying to join a fight without ever realising he is siding with his enemies.’

  ‘Only you could pretend that the breaking of a siege laid very skilfully by me is a victory,’ said Weyamun. ‘You have cost me hundreds of men.’

  ‘They are weak and prey to another attack,’ said Ystormun, waving a hand dismissively. ‘And the elves are dispersed.’

  ‘Oh yes, we know that,’ snapped Giriamun. ‘My latest labourers and researchers heading for the Dawnthief site encountered some of your elves. I was with my host at the time. And how fascinating to see them, even so very briefly, in action with their oh-so-effective staff weapons. None of my party will be breaking the earth after that encounter.’

  Ystormun smiled. ‘The Xeteskians will continue their work and we will take Dawnthief when we want it. You should not have wasted your forces so casually.’

  ‘The Xeteskians will not continue anything, at least not for the time being,’ said Giriamun. ‘Those elves were coming from the direction of the Dawnthief site. Bynaar assures us that since the elves were captured there he has lost all contact with his team. You can see what this means, I’m sure.’

  Ystormun paused and not for the first time had to respect some of the elves he had encountered. Giriamun had described the Senserii’s weapons, which meant that Takaar was at the Manse and, knowing his fascination, probably working there. Ystormun was almost tempted to pay him a visit.

  ‘Nothing you have said undermines my position,’ said Ystormun. ‘And if you will hear me at the full cadre meeting later, I will apprise you of all I have achieved on our behalf, and of my current plans.’

  Weyamun sneered. ‘Your words are meaningless, Ystormun. The cadre meeting will be very interesting but it has little to do with your plots and schemes. You can talk about them all you like. We, on the other hand, will be discussing your censure and removal from authority.’

  ‘That is not in your gift,’ snarled Ystormun. ‘Nor would you dare.’

  ‘Then come and watch us,’ said Giriamun. ‘There will be fine wine too.’

  Ystormun watched them stalk away. No doubt they would rest in the knowledge of their imminent victory. But much could happen before nightfall. The days were very long here.

  Stein sat and listened to Auum, as he seemed to have done a few times recently. There was something so compelling in the way he spoke. It was clear he had great wells of emotion inside, and his anger was cold and deadly, but everything he said came straight from his heart and he had no time for tact and diplomacy, no time for the niceties of others’ feelings.

  This time Stein was sitting with Tilman, who was completely in awe of Auum and something of a miracle himself, being the only survivor of the cavalry contingent. Stein had termed it luck; Tilman had told him it was faith in the elves that had saved him. That didn’t make any sense, but if Tilman believed it, who was Stein to contradict him? Anyway, Stein was glad of his company, youthful and excited as it was; after all, he was the only other human here and Stein had tired of being the sole human on the voyage to Balaia.

  The prayers for the dead had been protracted and emotional. Each fallen elf had been named and the lamentations had been long and tearful.

  ‘What’s he saying now?’ asked Tilman, whose elvish was decent but not capable of deciphering either prayers or lamentations.

  ‘Auum is inviting others to speak on behalf of the fallen. I don’t think anyone wishes to speak at this time. Normally, they’d do this at the reclamation ceremony, but they can’t hold one this time. No bodies, you see. That has hurt them.’

  There was more prayer and then a short chant led by Ulysan. Auum drank water from a skin and began to speak again.

  ‘The death of every elf and Julatsan man today is on my head. I led you into a trap because I believed we had to fight with Xetesk. Instead they tried to kill us all. Remember that lesson, elves of Calaius. The men of Xetesk will betray you. Those men of Julatsa who stand with us will not. They died side by side with us, and those who sit with us are brothers who you will look to as you would any of your kin.

  ‘I do not deserve your trust after today, but if I have it, then I believe our path is clear at last. Will you trust me one more time?’<
br />
  A chorus of assent ran around the elves. Auum nodded his blessings and thanks.

  ‘We were right to fight the Wytch Lords because I will not suffer them to set foot on Calaius ever again. Our mistake was to choose to fight alongside the armies of man. There is another way, and we must take it or we will all die in this soulless, godless land. Will you hear me?’

  Every TaiGethen stood to pledge their faith and loyalty. The others were slightly less enthusiastic, but Stein couldn’t imagine a world in which they would choose to travel anywhere without their extraordinary warrior guard and its charismatic leader.

  ‘What does he mean?’ asked Tilman. ‘Why shouldn’t he fight with us?’

  ‘I think he means Xetesk, but it comes to the same thing. I’m more concerned about the other path he’s going to propose. Something he said a while ago. . I do hope he doesn’t act on it.’

  Auum took a breath. ‘The Wesmen seek to destroy human magic. Their warriors have no love of the Wytch Lords’ power wielded by their shamen — ’ Stein went cold all over ‘- though they understand its necessity in defeating man just as I understand the necessity of elven magic in combat. What we face is an alliance of Xetesk and Wytch Lord power determined to destroy us along with Julatsa. We have to break that alliance and we will do it by turning the Wesmen away from the Wytch Lords. We will deprive the Wytch Lords of their army and the means to deliver their magic; once they are weakened they can be destroyed.

  ‘I won’t tell you this is going to be easy, because it isn’t. All the courage and faith that you have ever shown will be needed and will be tested further. It is hostile country and a hard climb over the mountains to get there. But if we stay here we will not survive. Xetesk is too powerful and its armies can not be turned.

  ‘Come with me. Walk with me and Yniss will walk with us.’ Auum paused. ‘But think first. Challenge me if you wish. We must be as one, on this mission, or we will all fail.’