Rise of the TaiGethen

Chapter 39

A human with a hand outstretched in friendship holds a taipan’s fangs in his palm.

TaiGethen saying

‘Hello, old friend.’

Takaar had slipped silently into the fresh-scented bedchamber. Night was full but Garan was seated in his chair, the darkness close about him.

‘You were expecting me,’ said Takaar, moving towards the other chair. He raised his eyebrows. Garan was following him. ‘You can see me?’

‘Yes and yes,’ said Garan. He sounded better than he had at any point in the last twenty years. ‘I have friends who were looking for you, or rather for your aura, and those same friends have given me the benefit of temporary night sight.’

‘You come closer to being an elf every day,’ said Takaar.

‘While you get no closer to being funny,’ said Garan.

There was a prolonged silence between them borne entirely of acceptance. Takaar sat on the bed unable to look Garan in the eye for the moment.

‘So are you going to tell me?’

‘Tell you what?’ asked Takaar.

Garan shook his head. ‘Who won?’

Takaar stilled. Inside his head his tormentor was roaring with laughter. The ClawBound had found him less than a day from Ysundeneth and he should have realised: with mage communication gone, no one here would know.

String it out. Make him squirm.

‘We did,’ said Takaar. ‘None will return.’

Pathetic.

Garan put his hands to his mouth, and when he finally spoke sounded more ancient than ever.

‘I tried to warn him. And he only did this so he could send the army back to Balaia. He’s weak now. Weaker than ever.’

‘After all the trouble we’ve been to, I sincerely hope so.’

Garan chuckled, a reaction that quickly turned into a hacking cough.

‘Not bad,’ he conceded, then he sobered. ‘A lot of wasted lives.’

‘You were never invited here. It was always going to end this way.’

Garan inclined his head. ‘But still you need help. Ystormun remains too powerful for you. There’s someone I want you to meet. Now don’t ov-’

Takaar heard the door to the washroom open. He pushed off the bed with his hands, turned a quick backward somersault and landed. He pivoted on his left hip and jammed his right foot under the jaw of the man who had emerged. The man cursed and Takaar pushed his foot in, threatening to choke him.

‘Relax, Takaar. He’s a friend of mine,’ said Garan. ‘Stein, I did tell you to wait until I called you. I told you he was dangerous.’

Takaar stared at the odd-looking human for a moment before removing his foot.

‘What are you?’ he demanded in the language of man.

‘He is Stein,’ said Garan. ‘He leads a team of twenty-five mages. They, Takaar, are my gift to you.’

Takaar turned to face Garan. ‘How?’

‘I don’t know how many of your TaiGethen are coming here, but they won’t be enough, not without magic. Stein and his men believe as I do. Calaius must be rid of Ystormun because the power this territory grants him and his cadre is too great. There’s a war coming in our country, Takaar. Ystormun and his ilk must not win it. If we weaken him here, it will give us a chance.’

Takaar walked towards Garan. He heard Stein follow him.

‘What will you do?’ Takaar asked.

‘Whatever we can to keep Ystormun and his men at bay,’ said Stein.

‘We’ll need the wards removed from the slave pens, the gates and the piazza temple walls,’ said Takaar. ‘And you’ll have to stay clear when the elves are released. Many humans will die.’

‘You’ll trust me?’ asked Stein.

‘Garan trusts you. I trust Garan.’

‘Thank you, Takaar.’ Garan nodded. ‘And now, Stein, you have to leave. You know why. I’m tired, and Takaar has a promise to keep.’

‘You’re sure?’ asked Stein.

‘I’ve had a century to mull it over,’ said Garan.

Stein shook Garan’s hand. ‘You’ve done the right thing.’

‘Eventually,’ said Garan.

Stein looked at Takaar. ‘I’ll be outside. We must speak, lay plans.’

‘I’ll find you,’ Takaar replied.

Stein closed the door behind him and Takaar knelt in front of Garan. Garan put a clammy hand on his cheek.

‘At last,’ he said. ‘Don’t get all emotional on me.’

‘You will be a legend among elves when our history is written.’

‘I seriously doubt that,’ said Garan. ‘I want to thank you, Takaar.’

‘For what?’

‘For talking to an old man, for keeping him at least partly sane. My loneliest and most painful hours have been eased by the thought of your conversation.’

‘You showed mercy when I carried Katyett from here,’ said Takaar. ‘That is something I could never ignore or forget.’

‘You have a chance now,’ said Garan. ‘Stein is talented and his men are loyal. Don’t fuck this up. My ghost will be watching you.’

‘You don’t believe that.’

‘No, but it makes a good legend, doesn’t it?’

Takaar smiled. ‘It does at that. How shall it be?’

‘Quick,’ said Garan.

‘I can promise you that.’

‘Good. Then see it done, my friend.’

‘Goodbye, Garan.’

‘Goodbye, Takaar.’

Takaar’s dagger pierced Garan’s temple, and he watched the one good human die.

That was well done. Now don’t get all emotional about it. Oh. Too late.

It had been a bittersweet run back to Ysundeneth. Auum’s route took him past the Haliath Vale on his way to the Ix and the humans’ barges, there to discover the Apposans’ fate. They had taken a fearful battering. Two out of three were either dead or badly wounded.

Both Boltha and Methian had survived, but memories of the Scar haunted their faces and Auum cursed that two such old and brave elves should have had to witness such times.

Auum’s arrival with the TaiGethen had been greeted with joy, but while Boltha asserted that the sacrifice of the Apposans had been worthwhile, his people’s faces belied his words.

Knowing their passage downriver to the city would be swift, Auum had invited Boltha and all who would travel with him to come to assist in the liberation of Ysundeneth. Fifty volunteered, Boltha among them, but Methian refused. He chose to return to Katura to help Tulan rebuild their city and the Al-Arynaar.

The barge the elves took passed sites of conflict along much of the length of the Ix. Body parts and bones were scattered along the banks, animals taking what little still remained. The forest bore the scars of human magic, but the river itself was quiet, almost reverential.

Auum landed a half-day from Ysundeneth, well out of sight of any who might be watching. He led his people along the river bank on the easy ground, trampled flat by men’s boots. With every step he considered his options, and every one led back to the same scrap of knowledge: without magic they would never be able to enter the city.

Takaar had said he would be waiting for him, but it was still a surprise when Auum saw the wild-looking elf emerge from the treeline two hours south of the city. Auum shook his head. He called a halt to rest.

Takaar spread his arms wide and had that ridiculous beatific expression on his face. Auum went cold at the sight of it.

‘What have you done, Takaar?’

Grafyrre, Merrat and Ulysan were with Auum.

Takaar raised his eyebrows. ‘You make my arrangements for our victory sound like a crime.’

Auum exchanged glances with Ulysan.

‘Where are all your followers?’ asked Ulysan.

Takaar waved a hand to the east. ‘Safe in Loshaaren by now, I hope, and perhaps even beginning their training. Leaving me to show you into Ysundeneth and the gift Garan gave me.’

Auum tensed. ‘There is nothing a human could give you that would be to our benefit.’

‘No? Not even if it was the power to dismiss the wards about the gates, to clear the slave pen fences of alarms and to cow the strength of Ystormun himself?’

‘You have got to be joking,’ snapped Auum. ‘He’s given you mages? Human mages? I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that even you would be so… so naive.’

Takaar’s face clouded with anger. ‘These mages are with us. They are twenty-five-strong and they want him gone as much as we do.’

‘And why do you think that is?’ shouted Auum, grabbing Takaar’s collar and pulling him nose to nose. ‘So they can lord over us afterwards! You are repeating Llyron’s mistakes. You’re as arrogant as Sildaan and I will not let you do this to us.’

Auum threw Takaar back. He did not stumble but came forward again, his eyes locking with Auum’s and his expression clear and complete, without a hint of his madness.

‘Without them we cannot hope to drive Ystormun away. We can’t defeat his magic without having some of our own.’ Takaar spread his hands. ‘Auum, you must believe me. You must trust me. Look at how few you are and remember what Ystormun did to Katyett. Without magic to aid us, he can do the same to all of us and will be free to continue his domination. For Katyett’s memory, for Pelyn and Elyss, you must trust me. I am not a traitor.’

Auum hated it right into the depths of his soul but he knew Takaar was right. He’d known they would need help all along but he’d managed to persuade himself that the Il-Aryn would somehow be strong enough in time.

‘Yniss forgive me,’ he said. ‘All right. You have your wish. Just keep them away from me and tell them that if one of them so much as twitches the wrong way, the TaiGethen will slaughter them in a heartbeat. You tell them that.’

‘They already know,’ said Takaar.

Auum turned to his people.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘This ends tonight.’

The gates of Ysundeneth were shut. A trio of guards stood atop them, staring out into the night and the din of the rainforest. Theirs was the simplest of duties; any trouble visited upon them would be preceded by trouble on the Ultan bridge. But the mages on the bridge belonged to Stein and they had undone every ward protecting it, and the bridge guards had never known what hit them.

Auum moved silently beneath the gates. He motioned Ulysan to his left and Merrat to his right. They climbed fast and silent. Above them the guards talked and laughed and their fire crackled away happily. Auum signalled. Three TaiGethen hands reached up, three throats were slit and three bodies dumped to the ground in front of the gates.

Auum dropped into the city. The singing he had heard a few hours before had subsided and the slaves were quiet, sleeping if they could. Ulysan and Merrat unbolted the gates and edged them open a crack to allow the TaiGethen and the Apposans into the city. Behind them came Takaar with five human mages.

‘The wards are gone at the pens?’ he asked Takaar.

‘Yes, and Stein’s mages have gone too. Any you find there are enemies.’

Auum looked at the mages with Takaar.

‘Your friends are all going to die,’ he said.

‘They are not our friends,’ said one.

‘A pity,’ said Auum. ‘Tais, to the boatyards. Boltha, bring your people too. I have a promise to keep.’

Auum didn’t trust the human mages and he kept the advance into the city slow, quiet and careful. Patrols were few and weak, just pairs or trios of soldiers with no idea what was stalking through the streets they thought their own. None of them would live once they found out.

Takaar directed them through the yards to the perimeter of the compound holding Koel and thousands of other prisoners. Auum breathed the fetid air and for the first time it tasted of victory and of freedom. He sent a prayer to Elyss and his child in the arms of Shorth and waved his Tais forward.

Six guards stood by the gates, all oblivious to their peril. Takaar came to Auum’s shoulder.

‘Are the wards gone?’ asked Auum.

‘Every single one. I told you to trust me.’

‘Not until Ystormun is dead,’ said Auum. ‘Merrat, Graf, Merke, take the three on the left. Ulysan, Marack, with me. Tais, we move.’

Koel was afraid. He lay wedged on the floor between two others for his time of rest but could not sleep. They had sung loud and fervent tonight, and the messages their songs carried had been relayed to every pen in the city. Koel had long prayed for the elves to prevail, and there had come a moment a couple of days earlier when he was certain his wish had been granted.

The doors to their warehouse had been shut and barred, the elves crammed inside with only the food and water they already had. To Koel, that meant the TaiGethen had won and were coming to liberate their peoplem, but now, on this third night, with hunger and thirst threatening to take the weak to Shorth, he had begun to doubt.

He knew human workers had been arriving. Perhaps there were many more than they had feared and their imprisonment would continue until the human army returned. That evening Koel had decided that they must try and break out themselves, and so he was afraid.

He must have slipped into sleep because he saw a shape above him and he heard Auum’s voice.

‘I said you would be the first, my friend, and so it has proved to be. Come, stand with me, Koel, hero of Ysundeneth. You and your people are free.’

In truth, most of Auum’s words were lost in the explosion of noise all around him as the elves woke to the fact that the TaiGethen were among them. They screamed and shrieked and surged for the doors, threatening to sweep Koel away, but the TaiGethen held him firmly and the liberated elves flowed around them and away into the night.

‘The mob will do what it must. Our role is to open all the pens and come to the temple piazza,’ shouted Auum.

‘I’ll lead,’ said Koel. ‘Enough will follow me.’

‘You have friends outside,’ said Auum. ‘Boltha is here.’

Koel burst into tears and hugged Auum hard.

‘That old dog,’ he sobbed. ‘Will he never die? Thank you, Auum. Thank you.’

‘Let’s see this done,’ said Auum. ‘Beware of Ystormun and his guard; they are still dangerous.’

He and Koel walked from the pen together and through the gates to freedom. Koel was shaking and his legs gave way beneath him when he caught sight of Boltha. Auum left them together and rejoined the TaiGethen. The streets of Ysundeneth were alive with the sounds of elves. Their cries of joy mixed with howls of fury. In there somewhere were the screams of dying men.

‘Five thousand will become thirty thousand,’ said Auum to the TaiGethen. ‘And they will sweep this place clean of men’s filth. Come, the piazza awaits.’

‘We should direct them,’ said Ulysan. ‘Keep them from danger.’

Auum shook his head. ‘This is their night, not ours. The mob has its own mind and will find its way.’

The TaiGethen moved swiftly towards the piazza amid the sounds of the city coming alive to a riot. Fresh roars signalled the release of more slaves. They saw the arcs of spells, but they were desultory and never cast from the same place twice. The mob did indeed have a mind of its own and it was circling the city, heading to the barracks area on its way to the piazza to face its greatest tormentor.

Auum saw soldiers and mages retreating to the piazza, trying to regroup in the only place of power left to them. Soon Stein’s mages would have to prove their mettle. It was the only worry left to Auum, but he found to his surprise that he trusted Takaar… So make that two concerns, because of the mad elf himself there was no sign.

Auum brought the TaiGethen around to the west of the piazza, where wards had once clung to the sides of temples in dense clusters and had covered the alleys like mould on damp walls. He stopped behind the temple of Orra, and motioned the TaiGethen away.

‘It’s time to see if Takaar was right,’ he said, and before they could protest, he slapped his hand against the wood and began to climb. No fire reached out to scorch his flesh. ‘Looks like he was. Follow me.’

The TaiGethen hid among the carvings and plinths that adorned the Orran temple and looked down on the piazza. The desecration that man had visited on the temples was awful. Graffiti covered every wall, carvings were missing, the spire of the Ixii was gone and the temple of Yniss had been completely destroyed.

Auum tried to concentrate on the ground. Soldiers covered the approach from the Path of Yniss ten deep and thirty across. At least forty archers stood behind them and a third formation was made up of dozens of mages. A group of them had already cast what were presumably shields and the rest were preparing a barrage.

‘We’ve got to time this just right,’ he whispered, though no one on the ground could hope to hear them, such was the approaching din. ‘Ystormun is still waiting for his moment, and we need to keep the castings and the arrows off the crowd. We’ve got friends down there, remember.’

Auum watched the freed elves approach. Fires were burning all over the city though not one of the elves carried a torch towards the piazza; only the human constructions were being destroyed. The elves were running, the old and sick among them too, all rushing up the Path of Yniss with more and more joining from the side streets.

Some held the limbs and heads of men aloft, taunting the defenders of the piazza, who were shifting nervously now. The baying howls of the elves were drawn from their ancient bestial side, and the violence they would inflict would be truly ferocious.

They advanced quickly, with no time for fear and with their desire for vengeance driving them on. Fifty yards, forty…

An order flashed around the piazza. Castings were readied, arrows held in drawn bows.

‘For the enslaved,’ said Auum.

The TaiGethen leapt from the roof of the temple of Orra. The noise dimmed for Auum. He streaked towards the mages, feeling his feet barely kissing the piazza stones. He threw a jaqrui and saw it chop into a mage’s side. The man looked round, gaping at what he saw and opening his mouth to shout a warning.

Auum saw faces turn and mouths open to curse. He drew his blades, sprinted three more paces and jumped. Auum soared over the first group, his body horizontal and his arms spread like wings. He gathered his legs beneath him and landed in among them hacking left and right, his blades slicing into flesh and skewering organs, grinding against bone.

Castings arced away towards the onrushing mob, but they were few and would not be repeated. Auum kicked a mage in the face and followed with an uppercut that chopped right through his chin and tore off his nose. He heard the thud of arrows and pushed through the dwindling number of mages to see TaiGethen ducking and rolling into the attack.

And the mob… the mob burst over the terrified soldiers in a seething wave of vengeance. The repressed fury of a hundred and fifty years of slavery, cruelty, evil and humiliation was visited on the humans tenfold. Auum saw hands rip at faces and teeth tear into necks and shoulders.

A hundred slaves grabbed at every human and each was torn to pieces, engulfed in hatred and sent to Shorth for eternal damnation. With every rent limb raised above a head there came a howl of triumph. For every head ripped from its shoulders by a dozen clawing, grasping hands there was recompense for the torture, the executions and misery untold.

Auum had to turn away. He faced the temple of Shorth and there he was; standing alone on the roof above the main doors.

‘ Cascarg,’ muttered Auum, then shouted, ‘Cover! Break, break!’

The TaiGethen scattered towards the temples, but for the mob of freed slaves there was nowhere to go.

‘Get back to your pens!’ roared Ystormun. His voice was unnaturally loud and echoed from the temple walls. It stilled the mob in an instant. ‘I am the ruler here.’

Ystormun raised his hands and forks of black light sped out, seeking souls. Auum ducked into the doorway of Orra. Black fingers ripped at the timbers and felt along the cracks. A network of black lines chased over the piazza and buried themselves in elven bodies.

Those so recently freed screamed as their flesh scorched and their skin was flayed from their faces and hands. The stench of burning meat filled the piazza. Ystormun laughed and the lightning was shut off.

‘Go back to your pens. There is no victory for you here. No elf can defeat me.’

‘No,’ said an equally voice loud. ‘But we can.’

Other figures appeared across the roof. Ystormun’s head swept round, his skeletal face thick with anger and his robes swirling about his bones.

‘ You,’ he spat.

Ystormun raised his arms and the black lightning speared out again. Stein and his mages were ready. Their casting flared and bucked beneath the force of Ystormun’s magic but it held. They steadied under his barrage and began to move forward, driving Ystormun’s black light back towards him. Ystormun tried to push back but they were too strong for him, just. They held him, they had him.

‘It is over, Ystormun,’ said Stein, his voice echoing out over the total silence of the piazza. ‘Your rule is over.’

‘You cannot kill me,’ sneered Ystormun. ‘If you were three times your number you would not have half the power you need.’

‘No, but we can diminish you.’

‘And I will return, with the one thought of feeding your soul to the demons.’

‘So be it,’ said Stein. ‘Begin.’

His mages ran to encircle Ystormun, whose black light was losing its force. He dismissed it and put his hands together. Auum saw a ball of deepest blue growing within them.

‘Pressure!’ called Stein.

His mages spread their arms and Ystormun screamed. The ball in his hands guttered once and blinked out.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You will not do this.’

Auum could see him staring hard at one of the mages.

‘No!’ shouted Stein. ‘Do not catch his eye. Look away!’

Too late. The mage’s eyes began to smoulder. Fire engulfed his head, black and roaring. He clasped at his face and it crumbled beneath his fingers. He fell.

‘One,’ intoned Ystormun.

‘Harder!’ cried Stein.

Ystormun screamed again. He thought to stare another down, but his head was forced back and his eyes could only glare up to the clouds gathering in the heavens for a downpour that would cleanse Calaius of the stink of man. Ystormun struggled within his invisible prison as the walls pushed against him. His arms were forced down to his sides. Auum heard bones snap as he resisted, and Ystormun gave an agonised shriek.

Stein called for another effort. The twenty-four mages pushed again and Ystormun wailed. His body collapsed, his ribs folding on his heart and his brain exploding from the top of his skull as it was crushed. Robes and blood and bone hung in the air for a moment before Stein dismissed the spell and Ystormun’s remains dropped to the roof.

For a moment there was silence, and Auum thought he heard a shriek echoing away into the night sky.

Then the crowd found its voice again. The explosion of sound was like the falling of a mountain or the breaking of the ocean over the whole of the land. Every temple shook with it and the ground rippled with it. It went on and on, passing through the massive gathering until every elf knew that Ystormun was gone.

Auum put his head in his hands and wept as the sound rolled around him. He felt hands dragging him upright and Ulysan giving him his trademark bear hug.

‘It is over!’ he was shouting. ‘It’s over!’

The mob began to move. People ran for their temples to pray or broke off into the night, looking for food, drink and humans to kill. A large number had their eyes on Shorth, the temple that had become the symbol of their oppression. They surged forward.

‘Block the doors!’ ordered Auum, already racing across the piazza. ‘Keep them back.’

The TaiGethen flowed after him and Auum ran inside.

‘Close the doors. Hold the line outside and talk sense to them. Those mages must be allowed to leave unharmed.’

Auum sprinted through the temple, hearing the doors clang shut behind him, muting the sound of the mob. He raced up the stairs and to the ladders up to the roof. Stein and his mages were waiting there. So was Takaar.

‘I wondered where you’d got to,’ said Auum.

‘One should never miss an opportunity to learn,’ he said.

‘Well, you’ll have to teach yourself anything else you need to know. No man may remain on Calaius.’

Stein walked towards Auum. He held out his hand.

‘We have never met but I thank you for your trust in us. A great blow has been struck for freedom on Balaia.’

‘I don’t care about your motives,’ said Auum. ‘I only care that man is defeated. My people are free and you are trespassing where you are no longer welcome.’

He did not take Stein’s hand, though something on the man’s palm caught Auum’s attention. Stein held up both his hands to quieten the displeasure of his mages.

‘I remind you that we were not expecting any thanks,’ he said to them. ‘But a word of understanding would not go amiss.’

‘Really?’ said Auum. ‘I understand that humans kept my people as slaves and treated them like animals for a hundred and fifty years. I understand that your magic gives you power but it does not give you courage. I understand that the elves will never again be enslaved by men.’

‘But you should also understand that we are linked. The war that is coming in Balaia will touch every corner of our land, and it will reach yours in time. If Ystormun’s cadre are the victors, then one day they will grow strong enough to look to your shores, and you will need to defend yourselves.’

‘Ystormun is dead,’ said Auum.

Stein shook his head. ‘No. He is diminished. We do not have the power to kill him. Only his cadre can do that. His soul is with the.. you call them the Arakhe… and he will return. He will not forget, Auum, and he will never forgive. And one day we may call upon the elves to fight with us to keep him and his like from dominion.

‘You must answer that call, when it comes, for the good of both elves and men.’

Auum’s hand snapped out and he grabbed Stein’s wrist, turning it over to reveal his palm. A birthmark stained it, in a shape not unlike a tree.

‘You have proved that you can keep your word and for that I grant you respect,’ said Auum. ‘But until four generations of your kin are grown and one holds this mark again, no man will be welcome here. No man will survive coming here. That is my promise and, unlike you, I will be alive to keep it.’

‘So be it,’ said Stein. ‘We’ll take word to the other cities. Without Ystormun, they will fall to you like leaves in autumn.’

‘Thank you,’ said Auum. ‘We will bring an army to Tolt Anoor and to Deneth Barine. Any humans we find will suffer the same fate as those here. Tell them that too.’

Stein gave a command, and in a few moments all his men had shadow wings on their backs.

‘I hope that, one day, elf and man will greet each other like brothers,’ said Stein.

‘As Garan would say,’ said Takaar. ‘Don’t push your luck.’

Stein smiled. ‘Goodbye.’

Auum watched him and his mages fly high into the sky and head out towards a ship anchored in the deep water beyond the harbour. He walked to the edge of the roof, feeling the splintered bones and blood of Ystormun beneath his feet.

‘That one’s for you, Katyett,’ he said.

‘And for every elf who died by human hand,’ said Takaar.

They stood and looked out over Ysundeneth. The hoots and calls of the mob were mingled with songs that rose in ten thousand throats. Across the city fires were burning and elves prayed in every desecrated temple, thanking their gods for their deliverance.

Auum looked directly down. The TaiGethen still stood in front of the doors though the crowd in front of them was beginning to disperse. Ulysan sensed him and looked up. He put his hands together and smiled. As one the TaiGethen began to sing a hymn of remembrance for their fallen.

Auum sighed. Tears for Elyss and his child were in his eyes. Beside him Takaar was staring towards the forest and the clarity was gone from him. He twitched with the desire to leave. Auum didn’t blame him.

‘Bloody hell, Takaar, but we’ve got some work to do now,’ he said.

Takaar looked at him, and the ghost of a smile played over his lips.

‘Four generations isn’t very long in human terms.’

‘Can you have some Il-Aryn ready by then?’

‘I think so.’

‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Then you’d best get to it.’

Auum jumped from the temple roof to join the TaiGethen in song.