Elves: Once Walked With Gods

by James Barclay

  Safe too. Neither panther nor elf killed there. Muddying the poolside with the blood of a kill kept others away for days on end. This time, though, Takaar could indulge in the luxury of flushing the deer towards his hunting partner. Risky. He did not know Auum’s skill with a javelin, and the one he had given the TaiGethen was a little rough and didn’t fly so true. They might go hungry if there was too much Auum didn’t understand.

  Takaar indicated to Auum to be ready and set off towards the pool. It was an idyllic sight. The water splashing down, the deer, long elegant neck extended so it could drink its fill. Its ears twitched continually, hunting for any sound of a predator. Takaar, though, was silent. He moved to the edge of the small clearing. The soft brown and red markings on the deer’s flanks rippled as it breathed and swallowed.

  Takaar edged slightly to his left. He felt the ground beneath him give slightly and he rocked back. He moved his foot and replaced it. Firm and noiseless. He glanced at Auum. He had not moved. The javelin was still held tip down in his right hand. Takaar wondered if he had understood the plan.

  Oh, another disappointment looms.

  Takaar did not respond. Something about Auum and the set of his body, the penetrating gaze, suggested competence and confidence in equal measure. So be it. Takaar circled round a little more. The deer raised its head. Its small bob tail flicked a warning. It had sensed but not heard.

  Takaar could take it right here. His throw would be unimpeded. Jao deer roasting over a fire would taste sweet. But this was a lesson, was it not? And he had outlined the deer’s movement on the run at some length earlier in the night. Theory over. Practice separated a good ear from a good aim.

  Takaar stepped from cover and clapped his hands sharply. The deer looked down the length of its back, startled. It set off. Its first bound high to escape the jaws of a panther. It hit the ground and darted left. Past a single tree it switched right, its agility improbable if described rather than seen. It ran low. Another high bound. Another change of direction.

  Auum had cocked and thrown his javelin in the smoothest movement Takaar had ever seen. He did not throw with too much force, keeping his shape compact and holding his follow-through for a heartbeat. The javelin’s flight was flat and fast, the slightly uneven shaft wobbling. The deer switched direction again, twisting its body back on itself and planting its feet to spring.

  The javelin struck it at the base of the neck, burrowing deep to pierce its heart. The animal sprawled to the ground, still and dead. Auum moved swiftly from cover to crouch by the deer. Takaar remained where he was. He felt a lightness in his heart that he had not experienced in a long time and never on Calaius.

  Auum removed the javelin and propped it against a tree. He picked up the deer and slung it across his shoulders. He retrieved the javelin and looked over at Takaar.

  ‘Hungry?’ he said and could not keep the smile from his face.

  Takaar glanced over his shoulder.

  ‘Disappointment? Wrong again and another victory for me.’

  But it won’t end here, will it? Has he come here to treat with you or to kill you?

  ‘You’re hoping I’ll let down my guard.’

  Since you are too craven to kill yourself, I’m left with little else. Think you can beat him if he comes at you?

  ‘I am Takaar.’

  You were.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  Auum was walking towards him. Takaar flapped a hand.

  ‘It is nothing. A private conversation. Well done. A clean kill. You’ve hunted the jao before?’

  ‘Never like this. Thank you.’

  Takaar wobbled on his feet. Something was coming. Through the ground and through the air. It grabbed his brain and squeezed. It clutched his gut and twisted. It lay on his chest and grew heavy. Takaar blinked. Dawn was here. Why was it so dark?

  Pelyn was on her feet before Helias had hit the ground. She lashed a kick into the side of his face and another into his kidney before the mob engulfed her. She was borne backwards, rough hands and arms about her waist, chest, neck and head. She was hurled to the ground and rolled in the mud. She bounced quickly to her feet. She was surrounded. Weapons were held out. The mob began to close, trampling her cloak. A couple of ulas helped Helias to his feet. He spat blood from his mouth and advanced on her. This time, though, he had armed help.

  ‘Listen to me,’ she said, trying to catch the eye of any she could. ‘Helias will deliver you all to the Ynissul. He is with them. Men are coming. Landing at the harbour. Please.’

  How much they heard was impossible to know. The howls of abuse reached a new crescendo as soon as she opened her mouth. Two spears were levelled at her, their points clean and sharp. One was to her gut, the other to her neck. She backed away and felt hands on her back. Elves gripped her arms and held her at a gesture from Helias. He waved for quiet.

  ‘I’m disappointed,’ he said. ‘Desperate lies from a mouth so beautiful atop a body so perfect.’

  Helias wiped at his mouth and nose. Pelyn was suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness but made no attempt to jerk her hands free to cover herself. Instead, she stood taller, prouder.

  ‘Come and take a closer look,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll have as much time for that as I need,’ said Helias. ‘So will every other ula with a mind to do so.’

  There was cheering in the mob. Pelyn spat on the ground at Helias’s feet.

  ‘And every iad will be delighted their leader is a common rapist.’

  Helias walked forward and crashed his fist into her nose. Pelyn felt bone crack and a wave of pain shudder through her head. Blood began to flow. The cut she had sustained yesterday reopened too, stinging her face.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Helias. ‘I appear to have spoiled the view.’

  ‘Llyron was right,’ said Pelyn, the salt taste of blood in her mouth. ‘Elves are no more than animals.’

  She found her strength renewed. Her death seemed inevitable. The brutalisation of her body equally so. But there was a chink. She could try to exploit it. Force it wide. Her last retort, though, she knew that to be an error the moment she uttered it.

  ‘Oh!’ Helias stepped back and spread his arms wide, turning in a circle to encompass the hundreds who stood around them. Ula and iad, the enraged and the anxious. ‘Hear that from our former protector? We are all animals. Let us disperse back to our hides and holes and think on the error of our ways.’

  The rhythmic cheering and chanting, growing in volume, reminded Pelyn of a distorted version of the chamber of the Gardaryn. Helias was its bastard Speaker and, surrounding him, government and public were one.

  ‘We are mistaken, all of us! Berate yourselves. You aren’t here to ensure the security of the Tualis. You aren’t here to make sure there is food and water for your families. You aren’t here to fight for a better tomorrow for your thread. I have misled you all. You are nothing more than a pack of dogs. O Arch of the Al-Arynaar, thank you for taking the veil from our eyes.’

  The laughter from the mob was hard, aggressive. Faces took on manic looks. Pelyn felt her heart skip.

  ‘You are better than this,’ she shouted into the gale of noise. ‘Remember who you are. This is none of us. Please. Face the real enemy. It isn’t me. It isn’t me!’

  Helias turned on Pelyn again. He stalked up and grabbed her chin, forcing her head back. He pressed himself against her, and those behind her made sure she couldn’t push away. His body reeked of lust and was puffed with his power. Pelyn tried to turn her face away but his grip was strong. His fingers and thumb dug into her cheeks. Blood dripped down onto his hand.

  ‘You are no enemy; you are nothing more than a common murderer. A cascarg, efra. And you are wasting our time. There is a fight going on here which your meddling will not distract us from any longer. You fail to understand what is truly happening. Why the threads ripped apart so quickly. The old order must not be reestablished. We must battle for the ground we want, as must every thread.’

  ‘
I understand that you are about to betray all of these people to the Ynissul.’

  But her words were thick and muffled by his grip on her chin.

  ‘I know the law on a podding. Many here know it. You have no status. You no longer belong to any thread. You are meat. Animals feast on meat before the inevitable kill. We are animals. So you said yourself.’

  Helias made a beckoning gesture.

  ‘Take her. Restrain her. Do with her what you will, any of you. Remember she killed her own on the docks just yesterday. Remember she opened her legs to Takaar. It must have been his last thought of sanity that bade him turn her away. She may not wish to give herself to you so willingly. Perhaps I should show you how it is done. Lie her down. Pin her. Spread her.’

  Pelyn thrashed wildly but too many arms were about her. She was dumped on her back. Her shoulders were pressed to the earth. She bucked her hips and kicked her legs. More ula forced her buttocks into the mud. More dragged her legs apart. Helias smiled down at her. She stared back at him.

  ‘Tual will turn from you. Shorth will take you to eternal torment.’

  ‘That is tomorrow. This is now.’

  Two ulas appeared above her. They stood together, their backs to her, straddling her legs, pushing the restraining elves away. Both carried clean, sharp, short blades.

  ‘The law also states that such acts may not take place until dawn,’ said one.

  Pelyn took in a shuddering breath. She recognised that voice. Tulan. One of her own. Though without his Al-Arynaar cloak, he was a deserter.

  ‘Stand aside,’ grated Helias.

  ‘No,’ said the other, and Pelyn recognised his voice too. Tulan’s brother, Ephran. ‘Those who lead must uphold the laws they expect their charges to follow. Or how can they lead?’

  ‘Don’t quote Takaar’s filth at me,’ said Helias. ‘Must I question your loyalty to the thread? To Tual himself? Protect this meat and you make yourselves cascarg.’

  The mob had quietened completely. Pelyn was sure they’d be able to hear her heart drumming against her ribs. Pressure on her body had slackened but she didn’t move.

  ‘This is not about her,’ said Tulan. ‘We shed the cloak for a reason and that reason hasn’t changed. But laws, repealed or active, have to be followed or crimes now will go unpunished. That has never been the elven way. Not even before the War of Bloods. Dawn is close. Save carrying out your sentence until then. What harm can it do?’

  If she craned her neck, Pelyn could just see the expression on Helias’s face. She fought hard to keep hers straight. His eyes were wide and his cheeks pinched and reddening. Only she and he knew the implications of waiting until dawn and the arrival of the human invasion force. He had trapped himself most effectively.

  Slowly, Helias dragged a carefree smile onto his face. He shrugged and opened his palms upwards.

  ‘Dawn it is. Why not? Perhaps thought of sentence will make some of us more creative, no?’

  Disappointment flew around the mob. The hands on Pelyn released. She drew in her arms and legs but did not get up. Tulan stooped and picked up her cloak. He shook it out. Mud tumbled from it. It was torn and misshapen. He threw it down at her, not looking her in the eye.

  ‘Cover yourself up.’

  Pelyn grabbed it greedily and pulled her knees right up to her chest, where she hugged them and wrapped the cloak around herself. She found herself shuddering and unable to control the tremors that flooded her body. She felt no relief. This was not salvation, merely a stay of execution. She wondered how Methian and Jakyn were faring. Could their captors be any more vile then hers? Mercy would have been to make it quick if murder was their intent. Helias had no such release in mind.

  ‘She is now in your charge.’ Helias jabbed a finger at the two former Al-Arynaar soldiers. ‘Don’t think to flee or release her. Keep her here. Others, more loyal others, will be watching you. Understand? ’

  Tulan and Ephran nodded. Helias spun on his heel and pushed his way through the mob. Two iads fell into step beside him. The manner of their gestures and his in response were not encouraging for Pelyn nor her new protectors. Without immediate direction, the mob wandered off after Helias in dribs and drabs. Whatever their plan for the hour, whatever diversion Helias had planned before his betrayal, was forgotten now. Few even gave her a backward glance but one or two came close. Spittle flew; abuse came with it and the comments to Tulan and Ephran were little better.

  ‘It’s going to be a lonely place for you two,’ she said.

  Ephran turned. He reached down a hand.

  ‘Get up,’ he said.

  Pelyn slapped the hand away and pushed herself to her feet. She was full of aches, her nose and mouth throbbed and her muscles screamed for a moment’s relaxation. She threw her cloak around her shoulders and held the edges together in front of her stomach.

  ‘Helias will have you killed, you know,’ said Pelyn. ‘I suppose I ought to thank you, but it doesn’t seem right.’

  ‘Then don’t,’ said Tulan. ‘This isn’t for you. Anyone could have been podded and left here and we would have done the same. This way. And don’t run. You know what we’ll do.’

  Pelyn felt a moment of disappointment but knew it should have been no surprise.

  ‘I don’t have the strength to run.’

  ‘Or any place to go. Believe me,’ said Tulan.

  The two brothers walked a little way in front of her, unable to bring themselves to look at her. But before she said what she must, there was no harm in seeing where they really stood.

  ‘So you think I should just stay with you until dawn breaks and Helias comes back to complete his rape and then offer me up to whoever else wants a go? I’ll take my chances with the Beethans, thanks.’

  Tulan cringed. ‘No. No, that isn’t what I meant. And I don’t want that, for what it’s worth.’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘I meant—’

  ‘I know what you meant. I get it. Nowhere is safe. Not for the Al-Arynaar. And where are they, my loyal brothers and sisters, so far as you know? Still at their posts, still walking their beats or lying slit open in a gutter in the Salt or the Orchard?’

  ‘Holed up in the barracks mostly, from what I’ve heard,’ said Ephran.

  ‘Shut your mouth,’ snapped Tulan.

  ‘What odds does it make? None, that’s what,’ said Ephran. He turned to Pelyn. ‘Not so many wear the cloak. Your disappearance led to a lot of desertion.’

  ‘How many are left?’ asked Pelyn, trying to sound calm even at this latest blow.

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ said Tulan firmly.

  They were walking across a corner of the park towards a square of wealthy town houses which had the park as their open side. Pelyn recognised it well. The Ash, the area was called after being rebuilt following a damaging fire not more than forty years ago. Helias had a house there, as did others in high office. A couple of houses showed the odd lantern light but it was mostly quiet. No doubt any non-Tualis had been hounded out.

  Tulan led the way to the nearest house. A two-storey property boasting private gardens. The house was dark and empty. The domed roof held balconies to all sides. He walked into a large entrance hall and went through the first door on the left-hand side. It was a large dining room with a single window and no other door. He pointed to a chair at the head of the table, furthest from door and window. Pelyn sat in it. Her guards, her former brothers not just in god but in service and belief, stood at the end of the room. Both of them looked steadfastly out of the window.

  ‘So,’ she said. ‘Tell me we’re just waiting for the mass of hidden Al-Arynaar to come down the stairs.’

  ‘You’re joking, right?’ said Tulan.

  ‘Not totally.’

  ‘Then you’ll be disappointed.’

  Pelyn sagged. She hadn’t realised she’d been clinging on to such a fanciful notion.

  ‘But you will release me to do my work. I’ll see to it that you’re treated properly, you know that. You can
trust me.’

  Tulan looked at her for the first time. He didn’t look as if he’d slept since the denouncement.

  ‘Don’t you understand? That’s all gone. No one will ever know how it happened so fast but it has. Helias is right. There is going to be a fight for territory and resources. Then there’ll be talking and an order will be established. A new order.’

  ‘Oh, Tulan. Ephran, you believe this too? Helias is a traitor. Cascarg, like he called me. But he’s worse than that. There isn’t even a word to describe him. He’s—’

  ‘Pelyn,’ said Tulan sharply. ‘No. You can’t talk like that.’

  ‘I want to hear,’ said Ephran.

  ‘Who’s upstairs, Eph?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know. Probably—’

  ‘Exactly. You don’t know. Helias has loyals everywhere already. He works fast.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Pelyn. ‘This has been in the plot for years. Probably a decade.’

  ‘Pelyn . . .’

  ‘If you want to shut me up, come over here and do it. Otherwise let me tell you that Helias is in with the rogue Ynissul and they are led by Llyron. Yes, Ephran, Llyron. Believe it or don’t, I hardly care. A fleet of mercenary ships is about to land. Helias is going to hand over the Tuali aggressors just to save his own rotten skin.

  ‘But you know what? I don’t think I’ll bother saying any more. Why don’t we all just sit back, relax and watch the sun come up amidst the deluge of man’s magic. Hey, if we go upstairs we’ll get an even better view of the last dawn of the elves.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Chapter 22

  The shame of a coward lies in the eyes of the innocents he condemns.

  The staging camp had been abandoned and forgotten for over nine years, ever since the last of the refugees from Hausolis had been housed elsewhere. Nine years was a long time in the rainforest. Beeth had been hard at work. Growth had been voracious but the canopy above was still thin.