Rise of the TaiGethen

Chapter 23

So quickly the weak are beguiled by the promises of Calen and Jysune. I have lost so many Cloaks I can barely police the city. Calen was here earlier, recommending the Al-Arynaar become a single thread force. I must stop their march but I do not know how.

The Diaries of Pelyn, Governor of Katura

Auum and his cell flowed down the valley side with the human reaction to the carnage already filtering up into the canopy. They had left the Apposans behind and Auum was glad of it. He wanted them to come upon an enemy already on the brink of rout.

Elyss was running to his left. Auum knew he shouldn’t check her progress but he couldn’t help himself. Her feet seemed as sure as ever, her body as fluid and balanced. Auum checked her path, seeing roots, low branches and trailing vines. He opened his mouth to warn her and ducked reflexively. He felt the brush of leaves by his right ear followed by Ulysan’s voice.

‘The TaiGethen who ignores his own path will fall to the merest risk.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘You did.’

Auum knew he was right. He refocused, tuning his eyes to his path and his ears to the situation beyond the cover of the trees and undergrowth. They were forty yards from the base of the Scar. Then he heard many human voices repeating the same words and had the time to wonder why that worried him so much.

He glanced across to Ulysan to check the big TaiGethen’s reaction and in the same instant a blistering, blinding white light filled the valley. Auum clapped his hands to his eyes and slid, feet first, on to his front, aiming to protect his head. Elyss cried out, Ulysan was silent and behind him the cries and calls for help told of the Apposans descending into panic. The only voice he could hear was that of Boltha, shouting for calm and for them to stop.

Auum took his hands from his face and opened his eyes wide. The afterglow of the spell haunted his vision. The outlines of trees, no more than pale shadows, swam against whiteness fading to a bright yellow and then to a burning orange. He blinked rapidly, trying to force his vision back to something approximating true sight. Down on the valley floor, the effect must have been ten times worse.

He could hear Ulysan moving towards him and the clarity of the sound alerted him to the silence within the Scar in the wake of the light.

‘We’re blind,’ Ulysan whispered. ‘We’re all blinded.’

The silence was fleeting. Human voices filtered up the valley sides. Again it was a few words, repeated along the column. Two sets of words, one following the other. Auum shivered; more spells.

Auum’s vision was returning but it was poor, the way he assumed a human’s was. He couldn’t penetrate the shadows and the edge of every leaf seemed thick and furred. He pushed himself to his feet, his unease growing. The air inside the Scar stilled again, and then it roared. Auum knew that sound.

‘Oh no.’

He began to run, fending off the shadows of branches as best he could and holding an arm in front of him to ward off the trunks of trees still indistinct against the glamour that tricked his eyes. He mimicked the alarm call of the howler monkey, an urgent echoing hoot designed to penetrate the densest of forest growth.

Ulysan tried to grab his shoulder to slow him but he threw it off, continuing his half-blind charge towards the enemy. His mind played out the massacre the gales of ice would cause. Helpless elves would be frozen in moments. The forest would be blackened and ruined, countless creatures slaughtered in hives, nests and burrows. The ambush would be left fractured, leaderless and confused. Any who survived the blasts would be prey to the swords of man.

‘Auum, slow dow-’

Ulysan gasped, his shoulder thumping into a tree. His momentum spun him into Auum and the two elves tumbled to the ground. Ulysan finished atop Auum and held out his hands for calm.

‘You can’t kill what you can’t see,’ said Ulysan, rolling away and holding out a hand for Auum to grab. Both stood. ‘You have to trust your cell leaders. They’ll do the right thing. Merrat, Grafyrre, Faleen… they are great TaiGethen. Take a breath.’

Elyss trotted over to them, squinting as she came. Auum blinked. His vision was clearing faster now but the detail of the forest was still denied him.

‘All those who followed the log runs will be too close to the enemy,’ he said. ‘Somehow we have to force them on to the defensive.’

The roar of the ice spells had died away. Auum couldn’t hear fighting from anywhere along the column. The elves had been silenced. Orders flashed up and down the enemy army. The unmistakable sound of weapons being drawn and readied echoed across the Scar.

‘We’re out of time,’ said Auum. ‘Call the retreat to the outer rally points. We’ve got to get the survivors to safety.’

Jeral watched the spells surge away. They blistered foliage, forged spectacular ice sculptures where they splashed against the boles of trees and tore through the undergrowth, seeking out the Sharps where they lay helpless and blind. This was the critical blow and it had to be driven home.

‘Swords! Two!’ he bellowed. He waited for the call to return along the column. ‘Away. Chase them down.’

Jeral watched his warriors moving away up the slopes of the valley to either side. In close groups of five, they hacked away standing foliage, clearing their path. Elves broke from cover, TaiGethen by their speed and camouflage paint. Jeral smiled. They weren’t fighting, they were running. Animal calls were bouncing around the forest. There was movement everywhere, and all of it was heading away from the valley floor. The battle was won.

Jeral watched his soldiers chase the Sharps upslope. His view had been cleared by the passage of a hundred logs and the sport was deeply satisfying. The warriors around him were cheering, some were laughing. Hynd put a congratulatory hand on his shoulder.

The TaiGethen were moving erratically, their vision clearly still imperfect. They were slow by their standards, slipping on the mud as they climbed. Jeral’s warriors were gaining slowly, each group with three ahead of the other two and all of them cheered on by those watching from the column.

Passing between two trees, three TaiGethen increased their pace and leapt high, turning rolls in the air before landing and hurrying on. Jeral barely had time to wonder why before three leading soldiers disappeared from view, their cries of alarm cut off with mortal finality. The two behind them slowed and passed to either side of the pair of trees. Neither of them passed any further. Panels of wood swung round horizontally, slapping into his men’s chests and driving spikes clear through their bodies.

Cheers died in throats, laughs dried on lips. Jeral heard other screams from behind him. For the second time today he found himself staring. The TaiGethen stopped and turned, crouching to see their foe’s reactions. They chittered animal and bird calls to each other before disappearing from view. Above Jeral the forest was coming back to life.

‘Green! Two!’ called Jeral. ForceCones. ‘Red! One!’ He cursed under his breath.

‘We need to get this army moving,’ said Hynd. ‘We’re still in charge here.’

‘Agreed,’ said Jeral. ‘Signal the advance.’

Grafyrre heard the enemy break formation to attack up the slopes. He dropped to the ground with Allyne and they ran past the blackened, hideous statues of Apposans caught in the blast of ice. He carried on running, hurdling a stake pit and sidestepping a whip trap on his way, praying to Yniss that men would die upon them. He soon had that wish granted.

The TaiGethen pair ran beyond the second line of traps, urging the few survivors they could see to head for the rally points. Just in view of the valley floor, they paused in a patch of good cover. Grafyrre looked down at the enemy, seeing them uncertain in their advance, eyeing the ground with suspicion.

‘Grafyrre.’

Allyne was pointing along the valley to the north. Kerryn’s cell was crouched thirty yards away, watching some humans beginning to move back down the slope, hurrying to join the rest of the army. Orders were being carried along the column and mages were preparing new castings. Red and green lights pulsed along the broken shield line.

Grafyrre clicked out the call of a parik bird, seeking Kerryn’s attention. He gestured for them to move left and down before pointing at his chosen targets within the army and bringing the points of his fingers together in a pincer. Kerryn nodded.

‘Let’s give our people some time to escape,’ said Grafyrre. ‘Beware the mages. Take them whenever you can. Tai, we move.’

Grafyrre headed downslope, angling slightly right, keeping his targets in sight. They looked like a command group. Older men with their swords still in their scabbards and surrounded by elite human warriors whose eyes scanned the forest continuously. Mages sprouted from the group too, some of whom appeared deep in concentration. Others waited to cast.

More orders rang out along the enemy column. They readied to move.

‘Hit them,’ said Grafyrre.

A howler monkey call carried along the valley from the northern end — Auum was signalling the retreat to rally points — but Grafyrre couldn’t let it end like this. They’d barely laid a blade on the enemy. Only Beeth’s great trees had done any real damage and even then not on the scale they’d planned. All his work, all his effort; Grafyrre would not let it be for nothing.

Grafyrre ran at the army, Allyne on his heels and Kerryn mirroring his attack. In five more paces he’d be beyond cover and into the mess of logs, mud and blood.

‘A quick hit and away!’ he called. ‘I’ll take the old men.’

Grafyrre stormed down to the floor of the Scar. Men were still rejoining the column, shaken by the traps that had claimed their brethren and careless in their haste. Grafyrre heard warnings shouted out. Isolated soldiers began to turn. Allyne threw a jaqrui which sliced into his target’s thigh. Grafyrre leapt feet first, catching the same man on the side of his head.

Grafyrre landed, not looking behind him, bouncing back up and dragging a jaqrui from his pouch. He threw, only to see it bounce off a magical shield and fly harmlessly away back over his head. Allyne was at his shoulder. The Tai warrior hacked to his right, felling a second enemy who had been too slow to regain the column.

Grafyrre drew both blades and charged into the midst of the humans. Kerryn crashed in beside him. Grafyrre kicked out straight, his foot thudding into a human gut. His momentum brought him forward, one blade across his body to block a riposte, his other overhead, splitting the man’s skull through his leather cap.

Gore spattered across the column. Men bunched together. Soldiers moved quickly towards the TaiGethen while mages backed away. Allyne took the sword hand from one and snapped a roundhouse kick into the head of another, sending him spinning into the stream and taking two more with him.

Ahead, Grafyrre could see his targets. One was white with fear, a second had a bottle in one hand and his sword in the other. The third was on his feet roaring instructions but no one was listening. Grafyrre blocked a thrust to his left flank and backhanded his free blade up into the face of his attacker. The man went down in a spray of blood.

Behind him, a mage opened his hands and cast.

‘Down!’ Grafyrre yelled.

He dropped and rolled, his blades out and carving at the space into which he came. He connected with the mage a heartbeat too late. A low hum hurt his ears and, behind him, he heard Kerryn scream. On his way back to his feet, Grafyrre saw her flying backwards through the air, her body smashing against a banyan and flopping, broken to the ground.

‘Break off!’ called Allyne.

‘No,’ spat Grafyrre. ‘Not yet.’

Soldiers were moving around to flank and trap them. Another spell was cast. Flame roared out from the column and Grafyrre heard an elven scream. Above the chaos, howler monkey calls sounded again. This time, their import and their meaning penetrated Grafyrre’s rage.

He uppercut his right-hand blade into a mage’s chest, crushed the kneecap of a soldier with a reverse kick and fled the enemy.

‘Get to cover,’ Grafyrre shouted as he ran. ‘Get to cover!’

Charging Apposans all but ran him down. He flung himself out of their path and gaped. Where had they come from? Howling obscenities and promises of death, they moved to the attack, their eyes fixed on their enemies, axes, swords and clubs held firmly in hand.

‘No!’ shouted Grafyrre. ‘Break off, they’ll-’

Spells screamed out. Fire, ice and pure magical force slammed into the Apposans. Elves shrieked as their skin was flayed from their bodies or scorched to the bone. Some, like Kerryn before them, were borne back to be crushed against the trees they so cherished. A few managed to escape, running blindly back up the slopes, heedless of their route, so careless that one, who thought himself safe, was skewered by a waiting trap.

Grafyrre ran too, his rage centred firmly on himself. Allyne had survived but Borrune and Kerryn’s Tai were gone. Apposans had been slaughtered like animals and the enemy’s cheers were the final humiliation. He had failed. Worse, he had led precious survivors to their deaths.

Grafyrre ran on, contemplating his words to Auum and his prayers to Yniss.

All the way down the slope, they had sounded the rally point call, and all they could do now was hope it was heeded. Auum, Elyss and Ulysan running at the head of an Apposan force of forty elves had broken cover right at the base of the Scar and thundered into the rear section of the enemy army.

Jaqruis had bounced from the magical shield but it had not protected the soldiers from close-up blade, fist, axe or foot. Their targets had been slightly isolated from the main column by two log falls that had burst through the magical protections. Bodies lay torn and twisted among the logs and the path was completely blocked, forcing soldiers who were prepared to risk it to travel upslope, through the traps.

Auum knew he was venting his fury but found he had no desire to mitigate the extra risk that posed to him. With his eye ever darting to Elyss, who fought effortlessly, he pressed his attack into the centre of the group of some two hundred soldiers and mages while the Apposans surged in at the flanks.

‘Push left,’ called Ulysan. ‘Break through them.’

‘Pushing left!’ returned Boltha.

Auum saw the old Apposan duck a wild sword swing like an elf a third his age and bury his axe in the man’s skull. The Apposans with him roared their approval and pushed harder. Auum looked beyond them to the main column. Soldiers were breaking away to come to the aid of their fellows. Time was short. He needed these humans broken and running now.

‘Follow me.’

Auum moved forward again. He ran three paces, swords in hand, and jumped high. Bringing his legs up tight to his chest, he cleared the human front line and cycled his arms, feeling his swords bite into flesh. He landed behind the line, in a confusion of mages and soldiers, his feet slapping into the stream.

Auum rose from his crouch, already spinning, blades out to lace cuts into legs, torsos, arms and faces. Ulysan landed a few feet away. Elyss turned a roll over Auum’s head and landed with her legs astride a mage’s neck, breaking it as she twisted down to the ground. Rise of the TaiGethen 197

Humans were scattering all around them. Auum thrashed a blade into the back of a mage who had turned to run; another spun towards Auum. The TaiGethen raised his blade to strike but a split appeared down the mage’s face — Ulysan’s work. Auum moved in the direction of the swamp and the enemy in his path turned and fled.

‘Keep them moving,’ called Boltha, leading his Apposans in the charge. He paused by Auum. ‘Go. We’ll see them into the jaws of Tual. You need to regroup your people. We’ll harass the humans as long as they remain here but we can’t stop them, can we? They’ve learned.’

‘Don’t risk yourselves. Get your people to safety,’ said Auum.

‘We’ll rejoin you at Katura.’

‘No. Disappear. Your people have done enough. We’ll find you when it’s over.’

Boltha nodded, turned and ran. Auum glanced at the enemy moving towards them. Elyss and Ulysan were by him.

‘Auum?’

‘Let’s see who we can save.’