Rise of the TaiGethen

Chapter 33

Nothing compares to the joy of union unless it is the grief of parting. As Bound elves, we are blessed and cursed many times. The Ynissul are immortal. The lifespan of a Claw is terrifyingly brief.

Serrin of the ClawBound

Nerille fastened her shutters and hurried down the stairs. She was shaking. Her sons were gone, two with Takaar and one to the ramparts dressed as a TaiGethen. Ulysan had told them if they took cover when the castings hit they should be all right, but the wall seemed a flimsy barrier.

Nerille had been in Ysundeneth when man’s magic had been unleashed for the first time. She would never forget the cries she had heard or the devastation she had witnessed that morning; and she was about to live through it all again.

She had done everything she could to help and was stationed with the quartermasters, handing out rations and keeping note of stock levels. Yesterday she’d seen the masses of food that had been brought in from the forest and the lake. She didn’t think the battle would last long enough for them to consume it all.

She’d overheard TaiGethen talking to the Al-Arynaar: the humans were not interested in a siege. This fight could well be finished in a day.

Downstairs, in the gloom behind her shuttered windows and with the armoured city wall just across the street from her, she paused to listen. Not even an addict was crying out. Those poor souls had been removed to the lakeside to fend for themselves while the capable worked for the TaiGethen and the wonderful Auum, who had suffered so much.

Straining her ears, she could hear the approaching army and a smattering of conversation from the ramparts. But otherwise the city was silent. Thousands upon thousands waited for their chance to fight. They’d all do well to pray.

A glint from the plate set on the small table by the front door caught Nerille’s eye. Her heart tumbled. It was her son’s charm, a silver pendant of Gyal blessing the forest with rain.

‘Jio, you idiot,’ she muttered.

His courage would falter without it. She snatched it up and ran outside, heading for the gatehouse and access to the ramparts. The street behind the wall was completely deserted but the sound of her people up on the wall was loud enough for her to know she was not alone.

Nerille trotted to the main road and to the gatehouse door, pulling it open. She darted inside, and straight into Auum’s arms. He caught her easily and looked at her, a moment’s confusion clearing quickly.

‘You can’t be here,’ he said, his face bright with tension. ‘Head to the stores; you’ll be safe there.’

‘I have to give this to Jio,’ said Nerille, holding out the pendant. ‘He’ll be lost without it.’

‘Where is he?’ asked Auum.

‘On the rampart, dressed like one of you. He said he was going to be positioned towards the river.’

‘I’ll take it to him,’ said Auum.

‘No,’ said Nerille. ‘He is my son and this is my chance to help him. I need to do this. I need to look into his eyes and know he will live.’

Auum kissed her forehead. ‘And it is your city. I understand. Go, but stay low and do not linger. Listen to the callers, and push hard into the wall if the alarm is given. Don’t take any chances.’

‘Bless you,’ she said.

Auum let her go and she made for the ladder up to the first level. He spoke just before she disappeared from his view.

‘Don’t you dare get hurt,’ he said. ‘I’m doing this for you.’

She smiled at him and climbed the last few rungs. City folk and Al-Arynaar looked at her. Some protested, but most were only concerned with what was coming towards them and turned away.

‘Jio,’ she said. ‘Where is Jio?’

An Al-Arynaar turned to her. It was Pelyn. Nerille caught herself before she gasped. Pelyn was sweating heavily, but not from the humid afternoon heat or from the weight of her cloak. Her eyes were sunken back into her head and her face was terribly pale. She looked fit to drop and was leaning on the gatehouse wall.

‘He is halfway along towards the river, but you shouldn’t risk going out there.’

‘I have to,’ she said.

Pelyn merely nodded. Nerille passed her on the way to the rampart and stopped to rest a hand on her arm.

‘How many days has it been now?’

Pelyn managed a smile but it was brief. ‘Eleven. It seems like a thousand years.’

‘You will break it,’ said Nerille. ‘You have the strength, I know it.’

‘Thank you,’ Pelyn whispered.

Nerille hurried out onto the rampart. Her eye was drawn to the blackened field below her and her breath caught in her throat. There they were, thousands of men all bent on her destruction. They came on with such precision, the soldiers with bows and swords ready and the mages behind them.

They marched in three sections: one directly at the gates, the second to the west and the open ground they all feared would be their undoing, and the third going straight for Jio and his friends. Each section boasted hundreds of soldiers and more mages than she had ever seen gathered in one place, not even during the dark days of the fall of Ysundeneth.

They couldn’t defeat this army. It was going to be a slaughter.

‘You’re not just going to stand there all day, are you?’

Nerille flinched and came back to herself. She looked round. Pelyn was at the gatehouse door.

‘No, I-’

‘Hurry,’ she said. ‘And then get to safety. There’s not much time.’

Nerille nodded, sucked in a deep breath and hurried along the rampart, asking after Jio every pace of the way. The rampart was narrow and crowded and her progress was slow. Ladders leaning against it every thirty paces or so merely added to the hazards she faced. She had to pick her way past swords and stands of arrows, apologising with every breath.

Suddenly, there he was. Standing tall, playing the part of a mighty TaiGethen, showing no fear to the enemy below. On the field below them, an order brought the army to a halt.

‘Jio!’

Her voice carried loud in the sudden silence. Dozens of heads turned to her and Jio’s jaw dropped in surprise.

‘Gyal’s breath, Mother, what are you doing here?’ he hissed, blushing scarlet and glancing at the smiles already cracking the faces of his friends despite the horror about to be unleashed on them.

‘Leave the house without cleaning your teeth, did you, Jio?’ said one.

‘Or perhaps Mummy is bringing you some dry clothes,’ said another.

‘I know. You left your lunch on the kitchen table, didn’t you?’

Raucous laughter, over-loud with nerves, rattled along the parapet.

Nerille ignored them and made her way to him and tried to hug him but he held her away.

‘Jio-’

‘The TaiGethen don’t hug their mothers before battle.’

Nerille felt a great rush of pride for him. She stroked his cheek.

‘Of course not, I’m sorry.’ She pulled his pendant from her pocket. ‘I brought you this. I didn’t want you to miss it.’

Jio’s hand went to the nape of his neck and his eyes widened.

‘Dear Yniss preserve me, I forgot it.’ Nerille placed it around his neck and gripped his hands. Jio’s smile lit up both their faces. ‘Thank you. Now I know I’ll live to see this battle won.’

‘Of course you will,’ she said.

‘Casting!’

The warning ran back and forth along the wall. Nerille looked out. The soldiers had all dropped to one knee. The mages were standing. Nerille felt a strange feeling come over her, like a wind that blew straight through her, warming her. The mages cast and Jio dragged her down, covering her with his body as they cowered behind the wall, praying it would hold.

The sound of castings froze her to her very core. A roaring and whistling sound, wrapped in endless rolls of thunder. The heat grew quickly and bright blue light cast them into a deep shadow behind the wall. The castings slammed into the gatehouse, the walls, and flew high overhead to land in the city.

Ten paces away, the top of the wall was blasted to rubble. Fire burst through, shattering the rampart and engulfing helpless defenders. Burning elves were hurled onto the street, thrashing and screaming as they fell. The wall shuddered under impact after impact and an ice casting landed right below them. She heard metal grind and protest and rivets pop. She heard stone blasted to dust.

Fire orbs detonated on the gatehouse roof. One flew straight through the opening where Pelyn had been standing and blasted through the open back of the gatehouse to splash against the main street. A second burst against the edge of the gatehouse wall, which held but the fire sprayed inside. She heard shrieks and saw elves slapping at themselves and diving off the platform, desperate to escape the flames that ate at their clothes and flesh.

Jio clung to her, all pretence at being TaiGethen gone. They watched fire orbs falling on their city. Harine the baker’s house blew apart under a direct hit. An orb scorched across the rooftops of five houses in a tight knot in the Ixii ghetto, setting all to flame. A third dropped onto the Second Courthouse’s balcony, splintering it and rolling inside, where the flames blew shutters open and scattered papers into the air to burn to ash in a heartbeat.

There was a moment’s pause. Jio tried to stand but Nerille clung to him.

‘Wait. There’s more.’

The air chilled and the sky above them filled with blocks of ice the size of barrows. Spinning fast and freezing the air around them, they flew high and deep into the city, their momentum carrying them far further than any orb could travel.

‘Tual’s balls,’ breathed Jio. ‘Clear! Get clear!’

His shouts were useless. The ice began to fall right in the heart of the city. It smashed the spire from the temple of Ix. The temple of Yniss’ roof collapsed under a trio of direct hits. Tens, hundreds of the ice boulders crashed down among thousands of Katurans who had thought they were far enough from the walls to be safe. One even landed on the steps of the makeshift stores. Nerille gasped. The quartermaster would have been standing there. He must have seen it coming all the way. She prayed he had found shelter in time.

The barrage lessened. Shouts for stretchers and fire teams echoed about the empty streets. Elves broke from their hiding places. The orbs had done terrible damage. Fire now leapt from house to house, business to business, the magical flames travelling with the speed of a jao deer.

Jio stood and Nerille stood with him. They looked down. Steel plate hung from broken fastenings. Stone was scattered about the base of the walls. The gatehouse was empty and on fire inside. There was no sign of Pelyn or the elves who had stood with her.

‘Casting!’

They dropped from sight again. Jio was shivering, clutching at his pendant.

‘How long can they keep this up?’

‘Not long enough,’ said Nerille. ‘Have courage, Jio. The TaiGethen are with us. They fear nothing and each of them is worth a hundred humans. I have to get back to the stores and see what I can do.’

‘No,’ said Jio. ‘You saw the strike on the steps. You could be killed.’

‘I’m safer on the walls, am I?’ Nerille smiled and kissed Jio’s cheek. ‘Worry about yourself. Don’t take any chances.’

Nerille made for the nearest ladder and climbed down into the city. Overhead, the castings came in again. Fire and ice rained down on the city. She pressed herself against the walls, which suffered no fresh impacts. Mages clustered up in the sky, spotting fresh targets and directing the barrage. She cursed them and prayed to Gyal for rain and mist to give them some respite. But the day was hot and the clouds distant. Even Gyal was in hiding.

Nerille looked to her right. A body lay at the base of the gatehouse. It was moving, the cloak smouldering but not aflame. It was Pelyn, it had to be. Nerille hurried along the street, staying close to the wall. An orb seared the air overhead and plunged into a potter’s workshop, blowing timbers and splinters in all directions when it hit.

Nerille felt a splinter cut her cheek. She turned her head away and crouched, trying to protect herself while she moved. Pelyn pushed herself to her knees and used the gates to pull herself to her feet. Nerille reached her and offered a steadying hand. The elf’s face was black with ash and red with burns, but the fire in her eyes was brighter than any fire orb.

‘Good, you survived the first wave,’ said Pelyn.

‘You too. The centre of the city has been hit. They need help.’

Pelyn nodded. ‘Let’s go. Stay to the walls, use the cover. This bombardment isn’t going to stop any time soon.’

The gatehouse blazed above them. Fire teams were speeding from cover, trying to douse the magical flames and risking death as they did. More spells soared overhead, spreading their destruction across Katura. Nerille and Pelyn headed inwards, where the city meant as a sanctuary had been turned to ash and ice.

Hynd stood by Lockesh, relaying his orders. The initial volleys had produced good results. Spotter mages reported considerable damage and panic in the city and it was clear the armour on the walls was weak in a number of places. All they had to do was hit the right spots and they’d destroy it.

Killith strode up and down the rear of the lines, urging greater effort. Soldiers itched to fight, sensing the Sharps’ will already beginning to weaken. Fifteen hundred men and mages waited, ready to begin the assault across the western ground. Despite Jeral’s concerns before he was arrested, Killith considered it to be the best approach in concert with an attempt to take the gates.

But for now the focus was on softening up the city. Nothing drained defenders’ will more than seeing those they were tasked to protect being slaughtered while they stood helpless. And the TaiGethen on the walls were helpless. There were too few of them to mount a raid over the open ground and, for all their speed, they were still vulnerable to magic.

The late Loreb would, it seemed, get his swift victory.

Hynd sampled the mana flow once more while he watched the penultimate volley of spells cast by the first wave of mages arc over the walls and down into the city. It was as strong and sure as ever, but he knew that when he was asked to cast, his nerves would wreak havoc with his concentration.

‘First wave! Prepare to withdraw and rest,’ called Lockesh. Hynd relayed the order. ‘Second wave stand ready!’

Killith marched over.

‘We must push over the western ground now,’ Killith demanded. ‘Drive our advantage home and caution be damned. We are winning. I want my victory feast tonight and to sleep in an elven bed having taken my fill of elven whores.’

‘Scout the ground first. The TaiGethen remain dangerous,’ said Lockesh.

‘The TaiGethen are all occupied, cowering on the walls,’ said Killith, jabbing a finger towards the city. The first wave’s final spells hissed away. ‘I am the senior general here and I want victory before the su-’

‘You are the only general here,’ said Lockesh with a hiss to still his flapping tongue. Where is Pindock, exactly?’

‘The order will be given. Your mages will support me.’

Lockesh stared blankly at Killith. ‘As you wish, General.’

Killith stalked away, summoning his aides. Orders were barked out. The column began to move towards the west. Hynd watched them go.

‘Your orders, my lord?’ he asked.

‘The second wave is to concentrate on the gates and that western corner. See if they can’t land a few fire orbs on that wooden western wall too. The reserve is to clear the ground west. I don’t want anything surprising us in the grass and I don’t want a single tree left standing for the TaiGethen to hide behind.’

‘You think they will be lying in wait there?’ asked Hynd. He gestured to the walls. ‘Surely-’

‘There are rather a lot of them up there, don’t you think? said Lockesh. ‘I refuse to believe they are all the genuine article.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Two more things, Hynd’

Hynd paused in the very act of turning. ‘Yes, my lord?’

‘Jeral shoud be released and brought to me. The charges against him died with Loreb and he should be seen watching Killith prove him right about that western ground. And secondly-’ Lockesh pointed to the head of the cliffs overlooking the western ground ‘-I think we need a lookout or two up there. See to it. Four mages, two warriors.’

‘At once,’ said Hynd.

He stared up at the cliffs, which looked treacherous and uneven, then turned away to relay Lockesh’s orders and to find some unwitting suspects to fly up and see the world from on high.

Auum watched the enemy’s advance from the first of the trees that clustered before open farmland in the lee of the cliffs. He glanced up. There was a single TaiGethen up there along with forty Katurans, waiting for the signal to send down enough rock to sweep away half the city walls, should their momentum carry them that far.

A fresh wave of castings began to fall on the western corner of the city walls. The armour was thicker here and the stone cemented firmly into place. Ice boulders dashed themselves to pieces against the plating, making it ripple. Fire orbs deluged it with heat, the dramatic changes in temperature causing it to groan in protest. So far, it held.

All of the TaiGethen were with him along with twenty of the fifty hunters armed with poison arrows on the walls to his right, and thirty Al-Arynaar led by Tulan and Ephram. The warriors were hidden by the trees, and all knew what they had to achieve. Auum waited for the right moment, assessing the closing distance and speed.

‘They will drop castings here,’ he said. ‘Be ready to fall back on my word. Get close to their swords and keep falling back to bring them beneath the avalanche zone. You know your markers. Don’t lag because we cannot wait for anyone. Stand by.’

The enemy paused. Soldiers knelt while mages prepared.

‘Hold,’ said Auum. ‘Cover!’

They all ducked behind the wide boles of the trees Beeth provided. Auum felt the heat of approaching castings. The ground vibrated with multiple impacts which scorched and ruined the farmland between the trees and the walls. Orbs were landing not twenty paces from them at the corner of the walls. Auum tensed.

‘You have to get under their arcs,’ said Auum. ‘Don’t give them the chance to adjust their aim.’

Satisfied with the destruction, the enemy moved forward again. Auum counted fifty paces before they stopped, bringing them to within a hundred yards of the walls and the edge of the burned ground. Spells ceased to fall on the walls for fear of striking their own.

‘Stand by,’ said Auum.

The human mages opened their hands to cast.

‘Break!’

TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar stormed from cover, running hard across the still-burning ground, their feet kissing ember, ash and flame. Tulan led the Al-Arynaar down the centre. TaiGethen flanked them, meaning to break around the sword line and get at the mages if they could.

Auum held himself in check, keeping pace with Ulysan and Faleen’s cell on one side and those of Merke and Quillar on the other. They moved to the enemy’s right flank as spells roared overhead. Auum ducked, hearing a splintering impact among the trees. It was followed by dozens more.

He saw bows bristle behind the front line. No warning was necessary. Elven warriors broke formation, scattering wide, crouching low and angling their runs. A volley sped towards them. Auum ducked a shaft, and heard one thud home. An Al-Arynaar tumbled to the ground near him, clutching his thigh.

The enemy soldiers stood.

‘Jaqrui!’ called Auum. ‘Away!’

Crescent blades wailed across the lessening space, bouncing harmlessly from magical shields, though they still made every soldier within the volley’s arc throw his arms up to defend himself. Moments later, the elven line crashed against them.

Auum beat one blade into a soldier’s gut and hacked his other down onto another’s helm, knocking him cold. Ulysan and Faleen filled in around him. Ulysan’s hands, quick as ever, flattened the nose of his target and tore out his throat. Faleen’s feet swept the legs from under her enemy and her blade pierced his heart.

To Auum’s left, the Al-Arynaar moved in. Moving with less speed and more power, they found a wall of capable swordsmen in front of them. Tulan called for the elves to hold firm and the Al-Arynaar closed ranks. Blows were exchanged. Human voices called orders and the enemy’s flanks began to move in.

‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘TaiGethen, flow!’

Merrat picked up his cry. The TaiGethen spread across the face of the army, each warrior looking only to himself. Ulysan shouldered into his target and drove a blade into his gut. Faleen jumped, kicked out left and right, landed and roundhoused a dazed human, sending him clattering sideways into his comrades.

Auum laced cuts into his opponent. The man was quick, fending off most, his body agile, weaving aside. Auum accorded him a mote of respect. He feinted to strike high but instead dropped to his haunches and drove in low. The man was too slow. Auum’s blade slid into his groin and blood gushed from the wound.

Auum bounced back to his feet as a soldier unleashed a powerful overhead blow. Auum stepped left and sliced a cut deep into his neck. He dragged the sword clear, glanced left. The Al-Arynaar had stalled. He saw two fall as he watched.

‘Lacking sharpness,’ he muttered. ‘Fall back three!’

Across the line elves pulled back, dropping three paces from the enemy, who surged after them. Auum fenced with a strong, lean man, his twin blades frustrating his opponent. Auum let him come on.

‘Rolling back!’ called Auum. ‘Bring them on!’

Spells careered over their heads again, battering into the trees and splashing against the wooden walls, setting them aflame. Orders rang out across the enemy line and they pushed harder, their commander seeing victory in his strength of numbers.

Steadily, the elven fighters moved back. The corner of the city walls was thirty paces behind them. The human flanks pushed on and the poison archers stood ready. Arrows flashed across the open space… but not one pierced the magical shield.

Spells roared out in response, volley after volley hammering into the walls. The ranks of soldiers broke and reformed, pushing down hard on their right flank, coming closer and closer to the cliff. Auum smiled.

‘Break!’ he yelled.

He turned and ran for the blackened and burning trees, too fast to give the archers or mages a target. The humans chased after them. Auum glanced skywards in time to see two mage pairs fly high towards the head of the cliff, a warrior hanging between each pair.

‘I hope you’ve seen them, Dimuund,’ said Auum. ‘Don’t let me down.’

Auum turned again, seeing his people moving calmly back to cover, their retreat looking for all the world like a withdrawal to the city. He hurled a jaqrui at the enemy, trying to keep them on their guard, stop them from thinking too clearly. The TaiGethen followed suit.

‘Eyes on me,’ Auum called. ‘We’re nearly there.’