Once walked with Gods

Chapter 8

Politicians seek victory to taste further glory. Soldiers seek victory to taste further life. ‘You cannot let them goad you like that,’ said Katyett, the moment the door to the records office was closed behind her and Pelyn.

Outside, the Gardaryn was being forcibly cleared by Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen. The aggression had dissipated, water through a cracked jug, and Katyett had left behind her a sullen cowed mob. No doubt they would find more targets for their frustration outside.

‘You heard what he called me. You saw what he did.’

‘Yes, and you nearly gave him what he was looking for.’

‘He deserved nothing less.’

Pelyn had her back to Katyett. She was wringing her hands and her whole body was shaking. Her rage clung on, giving way slowly to shock. Katyett took a pace and went to reach out. She stopped herself midway.

‘Pelyn, look at me.’ There was a slight turn of the head, nothing more. ‘Pelyn, please.’

Pelyn turned. There were tears on her young face, smearing the dust and dirt that had filled the air of the chamber when the riot began. There was power within her, great charisma too. Yet in this moment she was the frail iad in whom Takaar had seen such potential when he was building the Al-Arynaar to back the Tai-Gethen’s elite skills. Pelyn stared at Katyett with all the old pain in her face.

Katyett’s heart fell.

‘He cannot have known what he was saying,’ she said.

‘He knew exactly what he was saying.’

‘No, I mean, he knew the word he used, sure, but not what… happened to you on Hausolis. No one, almost no one, knows about that.’

Pelyn covered her face with her hands and drew them down to the point of her jaw.

‘Plenty know and enough of them escaped through the gate. You think I’m being naive but you’re as bad. Takaar’s denouncement didn’t just happen today. It’s been happening for a decade. And if you think there aren’t those in Ysundeneth capable of using every bit of information about those… those closest to him, against them, then you need to understand a little more about the nature of the embittered elven mind.’

‘But what Takaar did, he did for you. You know that, don’t you?’

Pelyn’s fury returned and she advanced on Katyett.

‘What I know is that he rejected me three times. In the prime of my fertility he looked in another direction. Rendered me worthless. Unworthy of carrying his child. And even back then, before the Garonin came, people called me efra.

‘And I know that despite what he did to me, despite the humiliation, I still loved him. I still love him today.’

Katyett sighed. ‘He never stopped loving you, either.’

‘Really?’ Pelyn’s tone was bitter-edged. ‘He believed in my ability on the battlefield but that is hardly the same thing.’

‘It was exactly the same thing to Takaar. He saw greatness in you and he brought it to the fore. Showed everyone what you could do.’

‘Out of guilt, I expect.’

‘Don’t be so stupid, Pelyn. You think he rejected you because he didn’t care? Wouldn’t have been proud to father a child with you; a Tuali-Ynissul union? He did it because he could see a better destiny.’

‘What could be better than being the mother of Takaar’s child!’ Pelyn cried. ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Katyett? Do you really? I know why he rejected me. It had nothing to do with my skills as a general. Having a baby wouldn’t change that, would it? It’s because he had eyes elsewhere. Didn’t he? Didn’t he!’

Pelyn’s hand came round, open-palmed. Katyett caught her wrist and held it like she held Pelyn’s gaze.

‘Yes, he did. And you know what happened? Nothing. I bore him nothing. My love for him was as desperate as yours. Yniss knows it still is and ever will be. But I could not give him what he wanted. All that time I was away from the TaiGethen, when people suspected I was pregnant, I was hiding my shame, trying every method, herbal and mystic, to make myself more fertile. And I failed. I failed, Pelyn, and he and I both know he should have chosen you.’

Pelyn had relaxed completely and Katyett let go her wrist. Pelyn rubbed it and then took Katyett’s hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I wish I was termed efra,’ said Katyett, believing it too. ‘At least that way I could hold my head up and say I might have been the mother.’

‘You don’t wish that. Trust me.’

Both iads smiled. They embraced.

‘Takaar has no heir,’ said Katyett, breaking away but not letting go.

Pelyn bit her lip. ‘And you. Will you enter fertility again?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Katyett. ‘But I have to live through all this first. And find Takaar and persuade him he needs a child. Yniss preserve us, he’s probably dead.’

‘Despite all that he has caused, to have no child would be terrible,’ said Pelyn.

‘There are precious few out there who would agree with you. How old are you?’

‘Three hundred and seven,’ said Pelyn.

‘Still fertile?’

Pelyn shrugged. ‘Yes, but my prime has passed by twenty years. And I only get one season, long though it feels sometimes.’

Katyett nodded. ‘We really could do without this war, if it comes to it.’

‘I hear you. We’d be right back to the days of pressure to conceive.’

‘Funny isn’t it that Takaar effectively gave the iads choice of partner and then demonstrated how easy it is to get it wrong.’

‘Oh, Katyett, he didn’t get it wrong. Wanting you to mother his child was the least surprising decision he ever made.’

Katyett burst into tears and hugged Pelyn close.

‘Yours is the most generous of souls,’ she whispered.

‘And yours the strongest,’ said Pelyn. ‘We cannot fall back into war.’

‘Then let’s stop pining after lost love for a moment and go and sort the rabble out.’

Pelyn laughed and pulled away.

‘Thank you, Katyett,’ she said. ‘I nearly lost myself.’

‘Want to know another truth? Anyone else calls you efra and you’ll need to beat me to the killing blow.’

‘I’ll take the challenge.’

The door to the office opened.

‘Katyett. Trouble at the temple piazza,’ said Grafyrre.

Katyett sighed. ‘Looks like it might be a long old day. Come on.’ It was a heartbreaking run through the city. So much bile, stored up for so long. Katyett had been spat at by people she knew. People she might have called friend. Today, as if some delicate strand had been torn to shreds, she was Ynissul, they were anything else but. Damned because they were loyal to an ula who had failed after saving so many of their brothers and sisters.

They ran past the Lanyon Jail, its gates standing open. Nothing like a random assortment of bitter criminals to stoke the fires. They moved quickly along the Path of Yniss towards the temple piazza, which rested on higher ground bordering the rainforest to the north-east. Everywhere, elves had formed into gangs.

Katyett shook her head. Most of them were single-thread gangs only. While the Ynissul were the principal targets of the, presumably Tuali-backed, aggression at the moment, history told them the flimsy unification of other threads would not last. No group that they passed offered anything more than verbal abuse to the TaiGethen cells and the thirty Al-Arynaar. Hardly surprising.

There was a fire burning up at the piazza. Tall flames licked up and smoke billowed, black and oily. Katyett increased her pace, breaking into a sprint as she ran into the piazza and saw the crowd building there. She glanced at the sky, hoping for the rain to return, praying to Yniss to nudge the elbow of Gyal and set her tears to fall.

The temple piazza was a place of beauty and tranquillity. Or rather it used to be. A circular open space a quarter of a mile across, centred around lawns and gardens, bordered by the city temples. Structures built with the passion of faith, reflecting the best qualities of elven dedication and flamboyance. From the stunning carved helical spires of the temple of Beeth, god of Root and Branch; to the spectacular entrance and mural-covered vestibule of the temple of Cefu, god of the Canopy; and the dominating temple of Shorth carved as a prone body, the piazza was testament to elven creativity.

All of it at risk now but none more so than the relatively modest temple of Yniss. The temple was a circular structure with a low green-painted dome and a thirty-foot spire at each corner. It had timber steps leading up to brightly painted wooden doors. Upwards of two hundred elves surrounded the entrance. Many carried torches and their intentions for the temple were clear enough.

A thin line of Al-Arynaar stood on the edge of the apron leading to the steps and more blocked access down the sides and to the rear. A few others stood on the steps, bows ready, but Katyett could see there was no desire to shoot.

‘Let’s get through this crowd, Pelyn. We need to hold them off until the rain comes.’

‘I’ll skirt left,’ said Pelyn, already motioning her warriors to move with her.

Katyett headed straight through the centre of the crowd.

‘Tais, make a path. No weapons. We move.’

Those at the rear of the crowd had sensed them coming and most were quick to move aside. Further in, attention was entirely on the temple. Katyett used her arms to ease people aside.

‘Move. Now. Disperse.’

The Tais came after her, fanning out into a chevron behind her. She heard muttered curses and insults. One ula turned and stood his ground. Katyett walked on.

‘Move or fall. Your choice,’ said Katyett. ‘I will walk to my temple unhindered.’

‘Time changes, TaiGethen. I name my right to stand here. You cannot touch me. Not any more.’

Katyett shook her head, dropped to her haunches and swept the ula’s feet from under him. He fell onto his side and rolled onto his back. Katyett stood astride him.

‘Wrong,’ she said.

The TaiGethen filled in around her, pushing back any who might come to his defence. The ula bunched his fists. Katyett sniffed.

‘I don’t want to hurt you. But if that’s what it takes to stop you, that is what I will do.’ She leant down towards him. ‘You are foolish if you think you can threaten the TaiGethen. Yniss guides us. Yniss keeps us for greater tasks. You are simply in the way. An impediment to be moved.’

‘There are too few of you. Not enough to stop what is coming.’

‘Go home, ula. Look to your real enemies. Those within your ranks who desire war and care nothing for your soul.’

Katyett stepped over the ula and reached down a hand. He looked on it with contempt and pushed himself quickly to his feet. Around them, the crowd had closed in, menacing, chanting the names of Tual and Lorius.

‘The time when you can tell me what to think and what to do is gone. Remember that.’

Katyett turned away from him and breasted through the crowd once more, ignoring the resistance, the shoulders turned into her chest and the feet seeking to trip her. In their midst, only one ula had displayed any courage, misplaced though it was. Unfortunately, one was enough.

When she broke through the front rank of the crowd, Katyett saw Pelyn deploying her Al-Arynaar across the temple apron. She stood on the steps just behind them. Katyett trotted up to join her, turning to look down on the gathering from which a little impetus had been taken.

‘Where’s the priest?’ asked Katyett.

‘Still on her way here from the beetle. Or hiding out somewhere until we can organise some calm, if she has any sense.’

‘How do we disperse them?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Pelyn. ‘I will not fire on them and I will not strike them with even the flat of a blade. I know some of these people. Ordinary folk. Woodworkers, bakers and potters. We can’t attack them.’

‘Then we must speak to them.’

‘Think they’ll listen?’

‘Not to me,’ said Katyett. ‘I appear to be of the wrong thread today.’

Pelyn spared her a wry smile. ‘All right. I’ll do what I can.’

‘Talk like Takaar. Engage them.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

Katyett glanced up to the heavens. Cloud was moving in fast, bearing new rain. Those intent on firing the temple would have seen it too.

‘Tais,’ she said, confident the chanting crowd would not hear her. ‘Like in the chamber, watch the torches. Intercept when you must.’

Pelyn raised her hands.

‘Please. Please. Respect the piazza. Let me speak.’

Her voice was lost in the chanting and the howling of the crowd. Katyett clicked her tongue and the TaiGethen turned to her.

‘Call. Like Takaar when he raced to save his Tai, my friend, lost now on Hausolis.’

Katyett paused then raised her face and hands to the sky, leading her warriors.

‘Jal-e-a! Jal-e-a!’

Over and over, they called her name. Their voices joined, rose and resonated. Reverberating against the faces of the temples around the piazza and echoing into the canopy, where Cefu carried it to the heavens. A haunting sound, capturing the ear of every elf gathered before them. When the last echo of the TaiGethen voices had died away, there was relative silence. Pelyn nodded her thanks.

‘Lorius and Jarinn left the Gardaryn together. Friends just as when they entered but on two sides of a debate. No one denies the passion Takaar inspires-’ she glanced quickly at Katyett ‘-but passion must not be allowed to degenerate into violence and hate. Whatever Takaar’s crimes in your eyes, does this make Yniss and his temple a valid target? We are all the subjects of Yniss.

‘I am Tuali; my Al-Arynaar before you are drawn from every thread. Remember what Lorius said. The harmony must remain. Reduce this to a fight between threads and we risk wiping ourselves out. Just like before, when Takaar rose to save us.

‘Whatever our personal grievances. Whatever we believe the Ynissul to have done while hidden behind the coat-tails of Takaar, we cannot, must not descend into mindless conflict. We must not desecrate the places of our gods. If we rip down temple walls we are all truly lost.

‘I ask you, as your sister, as the leader of your Al-Arynaar, as a Tuali happy to work with every thread to bring our race prosperity and happiness, to disperse. Go to your homes. You really want to destroy a temple? I don’t think so.’

She paused. There were catcalls, there was insult and there was abuse of the Ynissul. But it was not concerted. However, the crowd did not move. Not a single one turned away. And the agitators saw they had not lost their hold just yet.

‘Disperse,’ said Pelyn. ‘We will not allow any damage to be caused to this or any other temple. Extinguish your torches and stopper your oil. The Al-Arynaar and the TaiGethen are sworn to protect Yniss from those who threaten it. Attack this temple and you attack Yniss. You also attack us. We have no wish to harm any of you but we will do what we must.’

Unease swept the crowd and Katyett wondered whether Pelyn had misjudged her last words. But they seemed to have the desired effect. Those with no real desire to face Yniss’s elite began to break away.

But then the first drops of rain began to fall.

And someone threw a torch.