Beyond the Mists of Katura

Chapter 26

All of their good humour had been eroded to nothing by early afternoon. Stopping for food had been even more unpleasant than continuing to walk, though progress had become so slow they barely seemed to be moving forward at all. It was a single line of misery, picked at by increasingly strong winds and showered by wind-blown ice on the whim of whatever god ruled these mountains.

In all his thousands of years Auum had never felt himself so unprepared for anything. And they had begun in such high spirits, despite the losses on the climb and those killed by magic the previous day. The incline was easy, the ridge was narrow but not so uneven as to present a real risk for the careful walker, and the sun had broken through the clouds to provide some warmth despite the gusting wind.

Auum had chatted to Stein at the head of the line, the human pointing out the names of peaks they could see piercing the sky to the north and south. They were to be in the mountains for two days, more if they were unlucky in the paths they chose, but Auum had not been unhappy at the prospect. The scale of the range was staggering and the beauty matched it. There were white-capped peaks, ice slopes, vertiginous cliffs and chasms that surely led straight to the bowels of the earth. It was breathtaking.

It was not until shortly before midday that Auum felt the first stirring of unease. The clouds had covered the sun and the temperature had fallen sharply. With the clouds had come an icy wind straight out of the west and into their faces, driving the temperature down still further. They had been showered in snow from the high peaks ahead before a chill rain had soaked them to shivers.

The stop for food just after midday had been a miserable affair. Mages spaced throughout the line had melted snow in pans for a hot drink and they had boiled horsemeat to make a thoroughly unappetising meal. The meat was tough and tasted like Xeteskian revenge for their escape.

Auum had moved up and down the line trying to keep their spirits up, but it was difficult to do when, despite the cloak about his body and the shirt tied across his mouth and nose, he was absolutely freezing. He rubbed his hands together, not daring to put them in his pockets in case of a fall, and with every step he stamped his feet to try and keep the circulation going. His boots were made for the rainforest and, durable as they were, they were not built for warmth.

Their clothing was woefully inadequate. Worse, their bodies had adapted over generations to the heat, humidity and occasional gentle chill of the rainforest and were unable to cope with the cutting cold. Auum found it hard to draw a full breath and was not alone in feeling a growing sense of anxiety that the next time he inhaled, he might get nothing.

The Julatsan elves were able to generate some heat, which they could share with embraces that were all too short, but they had to maintain their stamina for walking, heating water and food and to fly if they must.

The further they climbed, the harsher the wind became. The white of snow and ice hurt their eyes; the savage cold numbed their faces and froze their hands and feet, and when it became a gusting gale, most of them were forced to move on all fours, their already aching hands having to clutch at stunningly cold rock through the snow.

Auum was doggedly staying upright, and Stein, who had demonstrated remarkable resistance to the cold, was right behind him. Ulysan, who was the fittest of them all, carried Tilman on his back and had to be in trouble physically. He only ever smiled when Auum looked down the line at him. Yniss bless him, thought Auum, the moment he ceases to smile we are all in desperate straits.

‘How far to the next face?’ shouted Auum, turning his head so his words were not whipped away by the wind.

Stein squinted ahead and his frown deepened. He could not hide his concern and it was only having Auum ahead of him which stopped him setting a faster pace. Night would fall quickly here, and they could not afford to be exposed when it did, or most of them would not survive until dawn.

‘At this pace, I don’t know. I can’t send fliers up, it’s too windy and the updraughts here are horrible to negotiate.’

‘Have you been up here before?’ asked Auum.

‘Often,’ said Stein. ‘I’ve walked this ridge before, but it never seemed so long and I always chose a fine day in the middle of summer when the snow is a mere memory at this height.’

‘What is there at the end of the ridge?’

‘Shelter of a sort. There’s an overhang and a rock shelf facing east so we can be out of the worst of the wind. Going to have to huddle close together tonight.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me it would be like this?’

‘I did, Auum. Didn’t change anything, though, did it?’

Auum shook his head. ‘And what happens after that? Where do we go next?’

Stein had the good grace to look a little sheepish as he replied. ‘I’ve never gone any further. The path to Wesman territory has never appealed.’

‘But your fliers. .’ said Auum, feeling suddenly vulnerable and utterly responsible for those he had talked into coming up here.

‘They haven’t been able to scout routes because of the wind. We need it to drop.’

Auum felt a different sort of chill. ‘You’re saying there may not be a way on and down?’

‘That’s the way of the Blackthornes, and it’s a good job too or the Wesmen could march armies over them.’

‘And what if we can’t find a route?’

Stein shrugged. ‘Then we will have to turn back.’

Auum put his face to the wind once again and pushed on a little bit faster.

‘That is not going to happen,’ he muttered, then he roared at the blank face of the mountains ahead of him. ‘Do you hear me? You will not beat me! As Yniss is my witness and my god, you will not stand in my way!’

The mountains said nothing but the wind blew harder, throwing his words back in his face, taunting him with the promise of more ice. Auum flexed his hands and pressed them into his armpits. It made no difference. He wondered if he’d ever be able to feel them again.

They had run far and fast, across hill and through valley past farmstead and hamlet by night and by day only to find this. Gilderon knelt in the midst of the ash and wept for the fallen while his Senserii spread through the carnage, trying to understand what had happened and how many had perished.

That all the dead here were elven was not in doubt. The weapons and buckles that had survived the inferno were unmistakable. Here and there some bones remained, but of the flesh and blood there was nothing at all. There were also bolts from cartwheels and part of one axle too.

‘This can’t be all of them,’ he whispered. ‘Yniss forgive me but I must pray that Auum at least has survived.’

‘Gilderon.’

‘Helodian,’ said Gilderon, looking up. ‘Speak.’

‘This was not their last stand. We found tracks leading into the foothills and Teralion has found bodies laid out for reclamation. The tracks head on towards the mountains. Cordolan is following them. It is clear a good number survived, though the ground makes it impossible to count how many.’

Gilderon felt a measure of relief. ‘There’s something else?’

‘Yes, there are cart and horse tracks heading away from here back towards Julatsa. Four horses, two pulling the cart, which was well laden, hopefully with survivors. The age of the tracks means we only just missed them. I put us less than a day behind any survivors.’

Gilderon saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and stood, gazing towards nearby woodlands. A shape shot out of them, soaring high into the sky. Another followed. More figures moved out on foot.

‘We’ve been seen,’ he said. ‘Senserii, at the ready.’

‘Humans,’ said Helodian. ‘Murderers. Tracks lead to and from the wood and into the foothills. They did this.’

‘They are fighting a war much like those at the Manse, assuming they are of the same college. What was its name?’

‘Xetesk,’ said Helodian.

The mages on wings came closer, hovering about twenty feet in the air and the same distance away. One said something Gilderon couldn’t understand though its tone suggested it was a question. Gilderon was silent and the mage repeated the question, this time in a more strident tone.

Gilderon pointed at him. ‘Xetesk?’ he asked.

The mage nodded. Gilderon hefted his staff and threw it in one smooth motion. The weapon flew straight, its blade catching a glint of sunlight before it struck the mage’s chest and he fell to the ground with a gasp. The other mage shot skywards and backwards shouting, presumably, for help.

Gilderon ran to the fallen mage, who was lying on his back. The ikari had fallen from his body. Gilderon picked it up. He spoke knowing the human couldn’t understand him.

‘You are guilty before the eyes of Shorth for the elves you killed here. Shorth is a god of great mercy, but not for you. I send you to him and your pleadings will not avail you.’

Gilderon jabbed his ikari blade into the mage’s eye, piercing his brain and killing him instantly. He pulled it clear and wiped the gore on the mage’s clothing. Looking up, he saw the humans massing and coming at them hard.

‘We can’t take them all,’ he said. ‘Where is Cordolan?’

Helodian pointed at a figure sprinting down the side of a low hill, heading towards them on a wide angle to avoid the human advance. Gilderon nodded.

‘Good. Let’s lose them. Senserii, we will run till dusk.’

And at dusk, hidden in a small copse, they chose their path and reaffirmed their faith and loyalty. Cordolan spoke first.

‘The survivors went up the walls. Some didn’t make it. There are bodies, burned and broken, abandoned to rot at the base of the mountain. But some must have escaped or why are the humans here still?’

Gilderon nodded. ‘Helodian, you are ill at ease. Speak.’

‘What we saw today. . the ash and the strength of the human forces still at the site. . we can’t defeat that sort of force alone. We don’t know how many of Auum’s people have survived and we can’t follow them over the mountain. We are many things but we are not climbers.’

Gilderon nodded. ‘I understand. And are we all feeling the same unease, as if our path has been muddied and we must seek a new one if we are to help in this fight?’

Every mouth issued words of assent.

‘Then I can offer you comfort,’ said Gilderon. ‘We need answers, so it is the cart and horses we have to find. We’ll pick up their tracks in the morning, though I assume they are returning to Julatsa. Then we’ll know how many are still travelling in the mountains, and finally we must make obeisance to our master and seek forgiveness for our lack of loyalty and attention. We deserted him and we must make recompense for our error.’

Their faces brightened and he smiled, pleased they all wanted what he had desired ever since they had left Takaar.

The Senserii slept and Gilderon kept watch. The words were easy but the task was not. Easy to say they would seek Takaar’s forgiveness. But he was not as he had once been, and his reaction, when they returned, might not be one they would survive. Still, they had to try. They needed him and he needed them. Gilderon prayed he did, anyway.

They made it to the overhang with night almost full, and it was clear the weather would kill some during the night. It had closed in yet further and the snow fell in a thick mass of flakes that clung to the clothes and skin, blown on a mourning, howling wind that carried the voice of their deaths.

Hands were frozen, cut and blistered, boots were torn, and inside feet were ice and ankles swollen. Their faces, despite the coverings, were raw with the constant attrition of ice and wind, and their eyes were pained by the bright white, the only part of them wanting the blessed dark of night.

Auum tried as best he could to get the weakest of them into the centre of the group and pack others in around them to give them some warmth, but the cold seeped up through the stone on which they sat and the wind blew more snow around the sides of the wall at their backs.

They had eaten a joyless meal, a rough stew of horsemeat and some roots gathered on the way past the lake a couple of days before. For some eating was an ordeal in itself, and they had to be spoon-fed so they wouldn’t spill it on their already sodden, freezing clothes.

Auum tried to ignore the fact that he was shivering so hard he couldn’t sit down. He could barely open his mouth to talk and had taken only a few swallows of the stew, seeing others needing more sustenance than he did. It was probably an error with the cold penetrating through to his bones and on into his heart and soul. Stein had told them it would be cold, but this was a level of pain beyond anything he could have conceived.

‘Something to tell your children about,’ said Ulysan.

He was still managing to smile despite the obvious discomfort of carrying Tilman for the day. He looked utterly spent but still refused to sit down and had checked on everyone else, all one hundred and twenty of them, exactly as both Auum and Stein had.

‘I’ll have to write it down before I freeze to death,’ said Auum, a new shiver racking his body so hard it made him grunt. ‘Trouble is, my fingers are frozen and I couldn’t hold a quill.’

‘Nor do we have bark or parchment, but it was a sound plan other than that.’

Auum cast his eyes over his people. Julatsan elves were moving among the tight-packed bodies, doing what they could with warmth and healing, but it was like using a fruit knife to fell a banyan. He and Ulysan were standing at the outer edge, a few yards from a sheer drop into a chasm. Auum wondered how many bodies they might be rolling into it come morning. Perhaps there would be none left to chant the lamentations.

Auum felt a keen anger bite and it warmed his soul a little. He let it grow, take form and substance in his mind, and he realised where his anger stemmed from. He turned to the quiet huddled group, most of whom had their faces buried in their arms and their knees dragged right up, trying to eke out a modicum of comfort.

‘This cannot be it,’ he said loudly enough to cut across the whine of the wind. ‘This cannot be all we can do. It is going to get colder and colder as the night deepens, and how many of you, with your nerveless hands and your soaking clothes, think you are going to survive? I’m not certain I will.

‘The TaiGethen cannot fight this. We cannot make fires from nothing. So what has your wonderful magic got to offer, my Il-Aryn and Julatsan friends? Conjure me a log and some kindling. Conjure me a timber shelter. Do something.’

Stein stood. His lips were swollen and his face was raw and red.

‘I understand your frustration, but we are few and we cannot expend all of our strength. I could have my mages warm the stone, but the cold runs deep and the warmth will be stolen before it can be of use because we are so exposed here. We have to conserve our energy.’

‘For what? If we don’t do something, most of us will not be alive to benefit from your precious stamina come dawn.’ Auum stared at the faces of TaiGethen and Il-Aryn around him and saw either determination or surrender. He picked out Rith. ‘And you, what can you do? Takaar’s teaching of seven hundred years cannot be so feeble that you cannot warm yourselves, surely?’

‘We can’t make heat out of ice,’ said Rith. ‘It doesn’t work that way. We don’t channel mana like a Julatsan, we use the energies around us to forge what we can. We adapt what we have; we cannot create something from nothing. I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ Auum spat out the word. ‘Is that it? Just as on the walls of Julatsa when the pressure was on and you found you could do nothing? Takaar’s precious Il-Aryn, the new power among the elves. . Yniss save us and Ix abandon you, but on this evidence I never had anything to worry about, did I?’

Rith could not hold his stare. He saw her shudder violently as she dropped her head, and he wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the onset of tears. Auum spread his arms.

‘We have suffered to bring you here. TaiGethen saved you by the lake, we saved you on the wall and we kept you alive to get here. Now it is your turn. Don’t you dare look away from me, Rith.’

Her gaze returned and there was fire in it at least.

‘We did not ask for this! We did not want war and we did not want to freeze to death on a mountainside, but you forced us here, gave us no choice but to go with you. You brought us here and now we are spent and we have no hope.’

‘None of us wanted war,’ snapped Auum. ‘But it is what we have. Either here and now, or in our lands in the days to come. I choose to fight here and I will die here if I must, but it will be by sword thrust or black fire, not because of a lack of elven spirit.’

Rith shrugged her shoulders, the shudders in her body so violent they made the gesture painful. ‘We cannot draw heat from ice. I am sorry.’

‘I do not believe you. I refuse to believe you! I have seen Takaar sink a ship. I have seen you create barriers that beat off Wytch Lord magic, and only yesterday you made the air sharp enough to behead our enemies travelling at a gallop. And you are telling me you cannot create something to keep the damn snow off my back?’

Rith’s mouth fell open and she looked at him as if he were a fresh warm morning.

‘We’ve been thinking about this all wrong,’ she said. ‘Give me a moment. Il-Aryn, gather round, I have an idea.’

Rith began to speak and Auum turned away, uninterested in the mechanics of whatever she thought she might do as long as she did it quickly. He felt a nudge at his elbow and Stein was standing there. He had a bowl in one hand and, as Auum watched, he played a flame from his palm beneath it until its contents steamed. He handed it over and produced a spoon from his cloak.

‘Here. You didn’t eat enough. Admirable but stupid. If you die all hope will be lost.’

‘You don’t feel pressure, do you, Auum?’ said Ulysan.

Auum thought to refuse, but his stomach saw sense and he began to scoop the warm stew into his mouth, having trouble holding the spoon in his unresponsive fingers.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘the quality of Ulysan’s jokes has reached a point where all hope is already lost.’

‘I wonder what they’re doing,’ said Ulysan.

‘Saving all our lives, I trust,’ said Auum.

‘Is it that bad?’ asked Ulysan.

‘I know how I feel and I know how much I can take. It’s night, and the temperature is falling like a stone down that chasm. If we cannot get warm, we’re all going to die right here.’ Auum stabbed a finger at Stein. ‘And if that happens, don’t you dare let anyone who can escape die too or I’ll haunt you from Shorth’s embrace.’

‘To leave you would be to betray you.’

Auum gave Ulysan his empty bowl and pulled Stein into an embrace which the human found uncomfortable but which Auum would not let him break. Eventually, he released him, kissing his forehead.

Ulysan raised his eyebrows. ‘Some honour,’ he said.

‘If all humans were like you, our races would have been friends for a thousand years. What a waste.’ Auum stepped away and looked back to Rith. ‘Now then, how are they getting on? I wonder. Even though I’m freezing and I consider you my brother, Stein, I won’t embrace you again. Your clothes absolutely stink.’