How much they heard was impossible to know. The howls of abuse reached a new crescendo as soon as she opened her mouth. Two spears were levelled at her, their points clean and sharp. One was to her gut, the other to her neck. She backed away and felt hands on her back. Elves gripped her arms and held her at a gesture from Helias. He waved for quiet.
‘I’m disappointed,’ he said. ‘Desperate lies from a mouth so beautiful atop a body so perfect.’
Helias wiped at his mouth and nose. Pelyn was suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness but made no attempt to jerk her hands free to cover herself. Instead, she stood taller, prouder.
‘Come and take a closer look,’ she said.
‘I’ll have as much time for that as I need,’ said Helias. ‘So will every other ula with a mind to do so.’
There was cheering in the mob. Pelyn spat on the ground at Helias’s feet.
‘And every iad will be delighted their leader is a common rapist.’
Helias walked forward and crashed his fist into her nose. Pelyn felt bone crack and a wave of pain shudder through her head. Blood began to flow. The cut she had sustained yesterday reopened too, stinging her face.
‘Oh dear,’ said Helias. ‘I appear to have spoiled the view.’
‘Llyron was right,’ said Pelyn, the salt taste of blood in her mouth. ‘Elves are no more than animals.’
She found her strength renewed. Her death seemed inevitable. The brutalisation of her body equally so. But there was a chink. She could try to exploit it. Force it wide. Her last retort, though, she knew that to be an error the moment she uttered it.
‘Oh!’ Helias stepped back and spread his arms wide, turning in a circle to encompass the hundreds who stood around them. Ula and iad, the enraged and the anxious. ‘Hear that from our former protector? We are all animals. Let us disperse back to our hides and holes and think on the error of our ways.’
The rhythmic cheering and chanting, growing in volume, reminded Pelyn of a distorted version of the chamber of the Gardaryn. Helias was its bastard Speaker and, surrounding him, government and public were one.
‘We are mistaken, all of us! Berate yourselves. You aren’t here to ensure the security of the Tualis. You aren’t here to make sure there is food and water for your families. You aren’t here to fight for a better tomorrow for your thread. I have misled you all. You are nothing more than a pack of dogs. O Arch of the Al-Arynaar, thank you for taking the veil from our eyes.’
The laughter from the mob was hard, aggressive. Faces took on manic looks. Pelyn felt her heart skip.
‘You are better than this,’ she shouted into the gale of noise. ‘Remember who you are. This is none of us. Please. Face the real enemy. It isn’t me. It isn’t me!’
Helias turned on Pelyn again. He stalked up and grabbed her chin, forcing her head back. He pressed himself against her, and those behind her made sure she couldn’t push away. His body reeked of lust and was puffed with his power. Pelyn tried to turn her face away but his grip was strong. His fingers and thumb dug into her cheeks. Blood dripped down onto his hand.
‘You are no enemy; you are nothing more than a common murderer. A cascarg, efra. And you are wasting our time. There is a fight going on here which your meddling will not distract us from any longer. You fail to understand what is truly happening. Why the threads ripped apart so quickly. The old order must not be reestablished. We must battle for the ground we want, as must every thread.’
‘I understand that you are about to betray all of these people to the Ynissul.’
But her words were thick and muffled by his grip on her chin.
‘I know the law on a podding. Many here know it. You have no status. You no longer belong to any thread. You are meat. Animals feast on meat before the inevitable kill. We are animals. So you said yourself.’
Helias made a beckoning gesture.
‘Take her. Restrain her. Do with her what you will, any of you. Remember she killed her own on the docks just yesterday. Remember she opened her legs to Takaar. It must have been his last thought of sanity that bade him turn her away. She may not wish to give herself to you so willingly. Perhaps I should show you how it is done. Lie her down. Pin her. Spread her.’
Pelyn thrashed wildly but too many arms were about her. She was dumped on her back. Her shoulders were pressed to the earth. She bucked her hips and kicked her legs. More ula forced her buttocks into the mud. More dragged her legs apart. Helias smiled down at her. She stared back at him.
‘Tual will turn from you. Shorth will take you to eternal torment.’
‘That is tomorrow. This is now.’
Two ulas appeared above her. They stood together, their backs to her, straddling her legs, pushing the restraining elves away. Both carried clean, sharp, short blades.
‘The law also states that such acts may not take place until dawn,’ said one.
Pelyn took in a shuddering breath. She recognised that voice. Tulan. One of her own. Though without his Al-Arynaar cloak, he was a deserter.
‘Stand aside,’ grated Helias.
‘No,’ said the other, and Pelyn recognised his voice too. Tulan’s brother, Ephran. ‘Those who lead must uphold the laws they expect their charges to follow. Or how can they lead?’
‘Don’t quote Takaar’s filth at me,’ said Helias. ‘Must I question your loyalty to the thread? To Tual himself? Protect this meat and you make yourselves cascarg.’
The mob had quietened completely. Pelyn was sure they’d be able to hear her heart drumming against her ribs. Pressure on her body had slackened but she didn’t move.
‘This is not about her,’ said Tulan. ‘We shed the cloak for a reason and that reason hasn’t changed. But laws, repealed or active, have to be followed or crimes now will go unpunished. That has never been the elven way. Not even before the War of Bloods. Dawn is close. Save carrying out your sentence until then. What harm can it do?’
If she craned her neck, Pelyn could just see the expression on Helias’s face. She fought hard to keep hers straight. His eyes were wide and his cheeks pinched and reddening. Only she and he knew the implications of waiting until dawn and the arrival of the human invasion force. He had trapped himself most effectively.
Slowly, Helias dragged a carefree smile onto his face. He shrugged and opened his palms upwards.
‘Dawn it is. Why not? Perhaps thought of sentence will make some of us more creative, no?’
Disappointment flew around the mob. The hands on Pelyn released. She drew in her arms and legs but did not get up. Tulan stooped and picked up her cloak. He shook it out. Mud tumbled from it. It was torn and misshapen. He threw it down at her, not looking her in the eye.
‘Cover yourself up.’
Pelyn grabbed it greedily and pulled her knees right up to her chest, where she hugged them and wrapped the cloak around herself. She found herself shuddering and unable to control the tremors that flooded her body. She felt no relief. This was not salvation, merely a stay of execution. She wondered how Methian and Jakyn were faring. Could their captors be any more vile then hers? Mercy would have been to make it quick if murder was their intent. Helias had no such release in mind.
‘She is now in your charge.’ Helias jabbed a finger at the two former Al-Arynaar soldiers. ‘Don’t think to flee or release her. Keep her here. Others, more loyal others, will be watching you. Understand? ’
Tulan and Ephran nodded. Helias spun on his heel and pushed his way through the mob. Two iads fell into step beside him. The manner of their gestures and his in response were not encouraging for Pelyn nor her new protectors. Without immediate direction, the mob wandered off after Helias in dribs and drabs. Whatever their plan for the hour, whatever diversion Helias had planned before his betrayal, was forgotten now. Few even gave her a backward glance but one or two came close. Spittle flew; abuse came with it and the comments to Tulan and Ephran were little better.
‘It’s going to be a lonely place for you two,’ she said.
Ephra
n turned. He reached down a hand.
‘Get up,’ he said.
Pelyn slapped the hand away and pushed herself to her feet. She was full of aches, her nose and mouth throbbed and her muscles screamed for a moment’s relaxation. She threw her cloak around her shoulders and held the edges together in front of her stomach.
‘Helias will have you killed, you know,’ said Pelyn. ‘I suppose I ought to thank you, but it doesn’t seem right.’
‘Then don’t,’ said Tulan. ‘This isn’t for you. Anyone could have been podded and left here and we would have done the same. This way. And don’t run. You know what we’ll do.’
Pelyn felt a moment of disappointment but knew it should have been no surprise.
‘I don’t have the strength to run.’
‘Or any place to go. Believe me,’ said Tulan.
The two brothers walked a little way in front of her, unable to bring themselves to look at her. But before she said what she must, there was no harm in seeing where they really stood.
‘So you think I should just stay with you until dawn breaks and Helias comes back to complete his rape and then offer me up to whoever else wants a go? I’ll take my chances with the Beethans, thanks.’
Tulan cringed. ‘No. No, that isn’t what I meant. And I don’t want that, for what it’s worth.’
‘Not much.’
‘I meant-’
‘I know what you meant. I get it. Nowhere is safe. Not for the Al-Arynaar. And where are they, my loyal brothers and sisters, so far as you know? Still at their posts, still walking their beats or lying slit open in a gutter in the Salt or the Orchard?’
‘Holed up in the barracks mostly, from what I’ve heard,’ said Ephran.
‘Shut your mouth,’ snapped Tulan.
‘What odds does it make? None, that’s what,’ said Ephran. He turned to Pelyn. ‘Not so many wear the cloak. Your disappearance led to a lot of desertion.’
‘How many are left?’ asked Pelyn, trying to sound calm even at this latest blow.
‘He doesn’t know,’ said Tulan firmly.
They were walking across a corner of the park towards a square of wealthy town houses which had the park as their open side. Pelyn recognised it well. The Ash, the area was called after being rebuilt following a damaging fire not more than forty years ago. Helias had a house there, as did others in high office. A couple of houses showed the odd lantern light but it was mostly quiet. No doubt any non-Tualis had been hounded out.
Tulan led the way to the nearest house. A two-storey property boasting private gardens. The house was dark and empty. The domed roof held balconies to all sides. He walked into a large entrance hall and went through the first door on the left-hand side. It was a large dining room with a single window and no other door. He pointed to a chair at the head of the table, furthest from door and window. Pelyn sat in it. Her guards, her former brothers not just in god but in service and belief, stood at the end of the room. Both of them looked steadfastly out of the window.
‘So,’ she said. ‘Tell me we’re just waiting for the mass of hidden Al-Arynaar to come down the stairs.’
‘You’re joking, right?’ said Tulan.
‘Not totally.’
‘Then you’ll be disappointed.’
Pelyn sagged. She hadn’t realised she’d been clinging on to such a fanciful notion.
‘But you will release me to do my work. I’ll see to it that you’re treated properly, you know that. You can trust me.’
Tulan looked at her for the first time. He didn’t look as if he’d slept since the denouncement.
‘Don’t you understand? That’s all gone. No one will ever know how it happened so fast but it has. Helias is right. There is going to be a fight for territory and resources. Then there’ll be talking and an order will be established. A new order.’
‘Oh, Tulan. Ephran, you believe this too? Helias is a traitor. Cascarg, like he called me. But he’s worse than that. There isn’t even a word to describe him. He’s-’
‘Pelyn,’ said Tulan sharply. ‘No. You can’t talk like that.’
‘I want to hear,’ said Ephran.
‘Who’s upstairs, Eph?’
‘Well, I don’t know. Probably-’
‘Exactly. You don’t know. Helias has loyals everywhere already. He works fast.’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Pelyn. ‘This has been in the plot for years. Probably a decade.’
‘Pelyn…’
‘If you want to shut me up, come over here and do it. Otherwise let me tell you that Helias is in with the rogue Ynissul and they are led by Llyron. Yes, Ephran, Llyron. Believe it or don’t, I hardly care. A fleet of mercenary ships is about to land. Helias is going to hand over the Tuali aggressors just to save his own rotten skin.
‘But you know what? I don’t think I’ll bother saying any more. Why don’t we all just sit back, relax and watch the sun come up amidst the deluge of man’s magic. Hey, if we go upstairs we’ll get an even better view of the last dawn of the elves.
‘What do you think?’
Chapter 22
The shame of a coward lies in the eyes of the innocents he condemns. The staging camp had been abandoned and forgotten for over nine years, ever since the last of the refugees from Hausolis had been housed elsewhere. Nine years was a long time in the rainforest. Beeth had been hard at work. Growth had been voracious but the canopy above was still thin.
The camp lay an hour into the forest beyond the southern wall of the Ultan. It had been fashioned in a natural clearing, expanded to house twelve long low dormitory buildings made of mud, timber and thatch and one large covered area for eating, resting and sheltering. The latrines and baths had been located inside buildings attached to each dormitory.
At its busiest, the camp had housed over fifteen hundred people. Katyett walked in with more than twice that number and found the camp in worse repair than her scout had intimated. From a quick glance, she knew that four dormitory roofs had collapsed, that the open-sided covered area was unsafe with the sheer weight of ivy, vine, lichen and mould swamping it, and that the four-foot-high grass and undergrowth would be a happy hunting ground for every predator in the forest.
But it was the best they were able to provide beyond a forced march to Taanepol, which, at the pace of the Ynissul civilians, would have taken at least six days. The attrition rate among those they’d saved would have been appalling. It might be dangerous here for a while but at least it was manageable.
Katyett looked back at the column and closed her eyes at the numbers she saw. She sent TaiGethen into the camp to beat the grass and scare off whatever they could before bringing them all in and making them find their own spots. TaiGethen then patrolled through them while others searched every building, trying to identify where the civilians could go.
Olmaat was set down among the civilians and was immediately fussed over by Ynissul iads, who produced cloth and salve from seemingly nowhere. Katyett saw a smile on his face that touched his eyes for the first time since he’d left the Gardaryn with Jarinn and Lorius.
‘Graf, Merrat, Pakiir, Faleen.’ The four TaiGethen trotted over. ‘We need to work fast. We’re lucky because the rain isn’t coming back for an hour or two. Not until dawn has broken anyway. I need you to find every willing iad and ula you can and divide them, one group to each spare Tai. By spare I mean all those not engaged protecting the rest.
‘I need working parties to clear vegetation from the dormitories that are viable and, if you’re feeling brave, from the bivouac roof. If we can make that safe, we can billet a lot of people there.
‘I want others to start collecting food. Yniss knows we need Beeth to provide us a bounty beyond imagining. So berries, roots, herbs. Not just for food, medicine too. Let’s not be naive. We’re here with people who will get bitten, scratched, stung and infested. We’ll need pots of the critical stuff. Tea tree, vismia, verbena and pareira as a minimum.
‘I want others to get down to the river. We’ve go
t spears with us so we can attach vines and fish. I need traps for meat. Tual save me, I don’t need to tell you. As much as you can as often as you can. Pass your knowledge as you need to. We have to keep the camp smoke-and flame-free, so teach steaming and how to build a rock oven, clay stoves, anything. Get them involved in their own survival. Let them sit and fester and they’ll get desperate and difficult. Inspire and survive, as Takaar would have said. We’re only three miles from the Ultan. We don’t need wanderers and we don’t need attention.
‘Anything else?’
Merrat chuckled. ‘No, we understand. And that just leaves you to do the talk, right?’
‘Which talk?’
Merrat spread her hands. ‘Rainforest survival, naturally. Just a pity you haven’t got all your skins, shells and paintings, isn’t it?’
Katyett thinned her lips and glowered at Merrat, though there was a little warmth of humour in her gut.
‘And you, Merrat, can take your party to do the most important job in the camp.’
Merrat’s mirth dissipated. ‘I don’t want to ask, do I?’
Katyett shook her head. ‘No, but I am ordering you to ask just the same.’
Merrat laughed. ‘My Arch Katyett, leader of the TaiGethen. Which is the most important job in the camp?’
‘Latrines,’ said Katyett. ‘Latrines for three thousand elves unused to trail food and exposure to heat and rain. And you’ll be close enough to hear my talk too. How lucky you are. Sorry, Merrat, I didn’t catch that.’
‘I said Yniss blesses me with the tasks he sets.’
‘He does, my Tai. He really does.’ Pelyn hadn’t persuaded them to go upstairs. In the end it didn’t matter. If there was one thing for which Sildaan could be relied on, it was punctuality. The skies had remained clear for her too. The sun was banishing shadows from the top of the canopy behind them. It rose to sparkle against the tall spire of the Gardaryn.
Down on the approaches to the harbour, in the quarters of the city the Cefans and Orrans had cornered for their own in a loose alliance, or so Tulan had grudgingly revealed, it didn’t matter that the skies were clear. It rained anyway. Teardrops of pure, beautiful and terrifying dark yellow. They fell dense and heavy like Gyal’s grief, trailing smoke.
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