Once walked with Gods

Chapter 41

The TaiGethen need no shield behind which to cower, only the blessing of Yniss. The TaiGethen ran. Apposans were with each of the three groups Grafyrre had detailed to seek and release, if they could, Gyalan, Ixii and Cefan prisoners. They did not know how they could achieve what Takaar desired but they did know they had to try. It was what the TaiGethen existed to do.

Auum ran with the cells closing on the museum. Pelyn had made a promise to Methian that she would try and help the Gyalans. And that was despite what had happened to a young Al-Arynaar at their hands just a few days before. This was not the time, Grafyrre had said, to be bothered by thread animosity. Elf could kill elf later, that was their right. It was not the right of humans.

They headed for the lights that bordered the quarter of the city where the Gyalans had made their homes for centuries. They were weavers, potters, artisans of all types. Famed for the verve of their creations and the flair of their construction. And now within moments of being dealt a potentially fatal blow. They were not an overtly fertile thread. They could not afford to lose such numbers from their stock.

Auum and Marack flanked a pale and shaking Takaar. Every pace brought a grunt of exertion. Every breath was pained and deliberate. He was not going to be of great use in a fight. Through the dark streets of Old Millers they came. Pelyn ran with them. Grafyrre and Merrat too. Thrynn and Corsaar guarded the Apposans. Ulysan brought up the rear. They were forty-five in all. Auum expected them all to die.

‘Remember it’ll be chaos,’ managed Takaar. ‘Use it. These soldiers need order. Take it from them.’

The museum of Hausolis itself was the centrepiece of the quarter. Houses bordered it on all sides of a square that saw celebrations every year on the anniversary of the closing of the gateway. Other days, markets and itinerant performers used the space as their own. Other streets ran away to Old Millers, down to Mural and Glade and towards the spice market.

They rounded a corner into a street lined with torches. Swordsmen were patrolling and there were mages in groups along its length. The street let out into the museum square at the other end. Here it was houses and shops on both sides. A place where normal people lived. Every house was barred shut. Every shutter was closed and secured from the outside.

Grafyrre made a hand signal. Cells of TaiGethen climbed walls either side of the street. He and Merrat ran on. Auum and Marack moved ahead of Takaar. Belatedly, the guards saw them, pointed and shouted for help while backing away towards their comrades.

Mages turned. Heads were bowed.

‘Apposans to every house!’ called Merrat. ‘Get them away towards Olbeck. Shove them, push them. Anything.’

Auum ran to the rhythmic sound of doors being smashed by axes. To the sound of screams and urgent shouts. To anger and fear.

‘Target the mages,’ ordered Grafyrre.

Two mages lifted their heads and spread their hands.

‘Doorways.’

Merrat’s shout triggered the street to clear. TaiGethen and Apposan sheltered in doorways, crashed through timbers into houses and dived into shutters, shattering wood. Countless thousands of shards of ice flew along the street. A fine mesh to flay flesh from bones, to strip away life in an instant.

Apposans pushed fleeing Gyalan civilians to the ground. Sacrificed their own bodies to save those they had released. The hail of ice came on a howling wind that cracked timber and widened the cracks in stone and tile. Auum heard the whisper of feet above him.

Abruptly, the castings were exhausted. TaiGethen ran back out on to the streets, leaving terrified Gyalans behind them – clutching each other, waiting for the Apposans to see them to safety. Auum checked Takaar and glanced outside. TaiGethen dropped from the rooftops. Mages died.

Auum sprinted down the centre of the street. Marack was at his shoulder, Takaar a little way behind. Merrat and Grafyrre moved past them. Soldiers squared up. Above and left, Thrynn chased along their flank. More mages were preparing to cast.

Auum thrashed into the shaky human barrier moments after Grafyrre sank his blade into the midriff of a scared soldier. Auum’s fist cracked into his target’s nose. He kicked down at the enemy’s knee, taking him off balance, and rammed his blade into the man’s side, butchering vital organs. Blood sluiced onto the ground.

Takaar barrelled into another, wrapping his arms around the man’s trunk and bearing him down. The two of them rolled. Takaar came up looking a little dazed. The man had dropped his weapon. He opted to punch. Takaar caught his fist in one hand and straight-fingered into the man’s throat with his other.

Auum ran on. Thrynn and his cell pounded to the edge of their rooftop and dived off. Below them, mages readied to cast. TaiGethen engulfed them.

‘Straight to the museum,’ said Takaar. ‘They’ll want to take it-’

Takaar stumbled and fell, clutching his head and screaming. Auum slithered to a stop, Marack by him. The TaiGethen faltered.

‘No,’ said Takaar, grinding the words from locked jaws. ‘Go. It’s coming. Help them.’

Auum pushed back to his feet.

‘The museum. Now. Get it open.’

TaiGethen and Apposan ran. They burst out of the street and onto the museum square. Pelyn was there by Auum, her feet slapping on the cobbles. There was a ring of soldiers around the grand building, and the lines of the Tul-Kenerit which it mimicked brought unwanted memories to Auum’s mind. Beyond the museum, the Path of Yniss danced with light. The human army was coming.

Torchlight washed the square. There were mages overhead, shouting orders. Soldiers were turning, moving away from their mages, forming a defensive line. From the north, a massive explosion rumbled through the ground and flames lit up the ocean sky. Auum swore. Even he could feel that in the pit of his stomach. He prayed as he ran that his brothers had been fast enough to beat it.

This time, the mages didn’t turn. They were focused on the museum. Auum could see arms stretched out in effort. Limbs shook with exertion. Bodies trembled. A soft green light began to grow in the sky above. It coalesced, brightening quickly.

‘Forget the warriors,’ shouted Grafyrre. ‘Two cells up and over. Apposans to ready. Pelyn, stand and face.’

Auum picked up his pace. He flashed across the square, feeling an increasing weight on his chest as the light grew and deepened. The casting was pulsating. Flashes of brown light could be seen within it. It was like one of the orbs only so much bigger. It would be seen right across the city.

Auum threw a jaqrui at the nearest soldier. He threw it high. The soldier ducked. Auum planted his right foot and sprang up. He tucked in his body, rolled in the air and came down on his left foot, already moving towards the first mage.

Auum took his sword in both hands and smashed it into the mage’s lower back. The man pitched forward, dead before he hit the ground. Auum turned left, jabbed the blade into another’s throat. Blood spurted out. The mage collapsed to his knees. Auum turned right. Marack beheaded one mage, spun and kicked out at the head of another, catching him in the temple and sending him sprawling. Merrat finished him, Above them, the casting guttered and blinked out.

Auum twisted and faced the soldiers. Pelyn and the Apposans were already on them with the balance of the TaiGethen. Above, the casting had begun to grow again. Grafyrre called for more to attack the casters.

‘Right!’ cried Thrynn. ‘Force moving in on our right.’

Hundreds of men, backed by mages in the air and on the ground, poured into the square from the Path of Yniss. Auum cursed.

‘To the doors. Apposans to the doors!’ Pelyn shouted her order and led them across the open space to the rear doors of the museum.

They were barred and chained. Apposans fell on them with their axes, hacking and slashing at timber and steel. Sparks flew. Timbers began to shatter and crack.

‘TaiGethen, defend the door.’

So like before. So like ten years ago. TaiGethen made a thin barrier in front of the Apposans. Pelyn came back to stand with Auum. Soldiers were filling the square, cutting off their way back towards Old Millers and relative safety. Back there in the street, Takaar still lay helpless.

Above their heads, the green globe grew and grew. It rotated. Lightning spat within it. Mages they would never reach controlled it. Brought their casting closer and closer to fruition. Behind, Apposan axes hammered at the doors. TaiGethen took down more mages. Auum could hear the screaming of the Gyalans within and the shouts of their rescuers for calm. They would get none.

Ahead of Auum the soldiers had stopped moving in and were even backing up. Every eye was on the casting. None on the elves in front of them.

‘Get that door down,’ urged Grafyrre.

He stood to Auum’s left, his eyes burning, his face ashen with the grief he fought to contain. The door went down. Gyalans, urged by Apposans, poured out behind the TaiGethen. The sky went silent. The pressure on Auum’s ears built to a painful crescendo. Something was wrong. Auum glanced back and up. The globe was wobbling. Fire lashed from its sides. Lightning speared down. Auum followed its trail to where it buried itself in the heart of a casting mage. He heard shouting. Humans. Desperate and afraid.

‘Run!’ yelled Auum. ‘Run!’

The TaiGethen broke their line and ran, forming a cordon around their Gyalan charges. The globe plunged down onto the museum. Men began running, scattering. Green light flooded the museum square. There was a sucking at the air. Wind pushed into Auum’s face. He heard the shattering of a thousand tiles and then a dull bass thump.

‘Down!’

Auum threw himself forward, hit the ground and rolled onto his back. He had to watch. Had to see.

Gyalans were still pouring out of the doors. Apposans literally throwing them into the square. Around him, most had taken his lead and fallen prone. Green light grew behind the open doors, deep within the museum. There was a crackle as of lightning buried in clouds. Next heartbeat, the museum exploded.

The walls either side of the doors bulged and disintegrated, hurling stone and timber hundreds of yards across the square. Flame blew through the open doors. Gyalan, Apposan, TaiGethen – anyone standing in its arc was gone in a blink. Bodies turned to ashes. Elf and man still standing were picked up and cast aside on the wind of the detonation. Bodies twisted and flipped as they bounced. Limbs out of control. Blood smeared the square.

Above, the roof of the museum was spat into the night sky. Lumps of masonry and wood, fragments of exhibits and what might have been bodies were thrown high and clear. The echoes of the explosion slammed around Auum’s head. He stared up. Spiralling high, shapes tumbled end over end. Some small, some big, the size of oxen and carts.

They began to fall.

‘Up!’ Auum’s shout was taken up by every TaiGethen at once. ‘Up and run. Now.’

Auum pushed himself to his feet. A timber thumped to the ground where he had been lying. It splintered. He felt shards rip into his trousers and lodge in his legs. He stumbled and steadied. Auum ran from iad to ula. Dragging them up, pushing them towards the north. Towards Takaar.

Quickly, the movement gained a momentum of its own. Auum turned. Pelyn was racing past him. He followed her direction. Men were forming up again. Running back into the square. Just a thin line.

‘TaiGethen.’ The blessed sound of Grafyrre’s voice. ‘Make a path. Apposans to the rear. Tais, we move.’

Yniss’s elite came together. Fewer now. Of Thrynn there was no sign. Nor Corsaar. But Merrat ran with Grafyrre. Marack, blood pouring from a wound in her forehead, fell in beside Auum and Pelyn. They simply ran at the growing line of men and took their revenge for the death of their Arch, their friend. Their sister.

Men were calling orders. Archers were running in from the right. Mages, those that could, were moving up behind the swordsmen. Auum feinted to swing at the man in front of him. The soldier flinched. Auum dropped and rolled between him and another. The man caught Marack’s blade in the side of his head.

Auum stood and thrashed his blade through the guard of the next in line. The enemy’s sword broke, the tip flying to lodge in his skull. He cried out and put his hands up to his head. Auum dug his sword in under the hapless human’s ribs. Behind Auum, the TaiGethen washed over the front line of men. The whole moved back a pace under the pressure of the attack, giving Auum brief room.

A flight of arrows came in from behind, landing amongst the fleeing Gyalans. There was a roar from that direction too. More men spilling into the square. Auum straight-punched the man in front of him, knocking him cold.

TaiGethen flew over his head, dropping into the midst of the growing press of men. They were still four deep ahead. Auum and Marack moved side by side. Four blades blocking and chopping. Merrat and Grafyrre were by them. Pelyn was to Auum’s left.

Another surge came from behind. Apposans. Less pretty, just as effective. Axes rose and fell. Blood sprayed into the sky. Auum took heart. He swayed inside a stab to the head and cracked the pommel of his blade into his attacker’s face. Auum followed up with a straight kick to the groin. The man gasped. Auum stepped up and butted the bridge of his nose, splitting it open. The man fell. Auum stamped down on his throat and moved past him.

Marack jumped, spun and kicked out. Her foot caught the head of her target. He flew back. The man behind tried to fend him off but succeeded only in stabbing him low in the back. Marack chopped in, left and right. Both men died. More arrows at their back. Auum could hear them skipping off the cobbles.

Auum ducked a wild swing, hearing the blade clash against Pelyn’s. He straightened fast. The soldier, surprised, swayed back. Auum stabbed into his exposed throat. Down he went. The soldier behind him was staring at Auum but wasn’t about to strike. Blood was sluicing down his face. When he fell forward, Kerryn stood behind him.

‘Clear!’ shouted Auum. ‘Push left and right. Graf. Get some through to the mages.’

The line of men broke. TaiGethen and Apposan chased them away. The square was still in uproar. What was left of the museum was collapsing in on itself. Fire scratched at the sky. Clouds were coming in again.

‘Run! Run!’

The Apposans chanted in unison. They rounded up Gyalans and pushed them towards the street and the way out towards the Grans. Terrified ula and iad came past Auum. He fell in beside them. Behind them, more and more men poured into the square to give chase. Ahead, mages stood waiting. No longer were their comrades in line before them. They had clear targets.

‘Graf! Mages!’ shouted Auum, but Grafyrre couldn’t hear him.

Auum could see him and Merrat over to the right. They took apart three men standing in a tight knot before turning to usher Gyalan and Apposan past them and away. Hundreds, thousands had been saved. The devastation at the museum had brought more onto the street, beating open their own doors and windows to join in the exodus. There was no need for questions now. No need for any elf to wonder if they should join the crowd. One look at the faces of men was all they needed. Any who stayed behind were as good as dead.

Auum powered towards the mages. They were together, seven of them. The sea of elves was about to engulf them but they stayed still, preparing. Auum broke through the line of running Gyalans and Apposans and closed on the enemy. But he would not make it in time.

As one, the mages opened their eyes and focused on their enemy.

They could not see what was behind them. A figure in the air, twisting as he came down right in their midst. Takaar. His swords blurred. Mages were hacked aside. A hand dropped to the ground, still opening and closing. A shoulder was chopped through. They tried to turn and defend but his hands were too quick and his feet too sure.

The last of them grappled with him, wrapping his arms around him and pushing him back. Takaar dropped both blades and stared at the mage. Auum slowed too, letting the rescued and rescuers flow past him. Takaar cocked his head. The mage did not know what to do next. He let go with one arm and felt for a knife, sensing a chance.

Takaar put a hand on the mage’s chest and shoved him back just one pace. The other hand he placed on his face. Fire engulfed the man’s head. It was a juddering mix of brown and green shot through with grey. His screams were agonised and brief.

Takaar took his hand away and stared at it, his mouth open and moving. Auum glanced behind. Gyalans still poured past him. Men were closing. Not as fast as even the slowest elf but even they would overhaul a TaiGethen who stood and waited for them.

‘Takaar. Come on,’ he said, though the words he wanted to speak were utterly different.

Takaar looked at him as he approached. Takaar swallowed and stepped back as if trying to retreat from his own hand.

‘I felt it in me,’ he said. ‘And in him. Look at what I did. What did I do?’

An arrow bit into the cobbles right at Auum’s feet. Another struck the smouldering dead mage. Auum grabbed Takaar’s arm and felt a jolt through it like an impact. He wanted to let go but instead tightened his grip and pulled.

‘Come on. Later, all right? Live now.’

Auum began to run. The last of the Gyalans were coming past him. Pelyn was with them. She was cut and bloodied but in her eyes there was victory.

‘We did it,’ she said, coming to Takaar’s other side. ‘We did it.’

Takaar looked at her once and shook his head.

‘We did nothing. Saved a handful and let so many others die. We have lost Katyett and we have lost our city. Calaius belongs to the humans.’