Once walked with Gods e-1

by James Barclay

  ‘The day you sail away is the day I get on with you as well as I ever will.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll write,’ said Garan.

  Sildaan tried very hard to hide the smile. ‘Only if you leave me enough of your blood for the letter.’

  Garan laughed loud. ‘Good for you. Let’s get on. I mean to send my soldiers up the Path of Yniss and across the Gardens of Cefu. We’ll also come to the Gardaryn from the south across that market the name of which I’ve forgotten. We’ll seal off the approaches and clear the building. Then we’ll wait for you. How’s that?’

  Sildaan considered briefly and then nodded. ‘And prisoners?’

  ‘The balance of a hundred men are tasked with prisoner duties. The harbour master’s warehouse is secure and empty of anything useful to an elf with a mind for trouble. We’ve established a safe corridor to bring in more prisoners from the south and west of the city. We’ve laid alarm wards where we can’t physically cover areas of ground.’

  ‘What is an alarm ward, exactly?’

  ‘Simple casting that when someone walks near it, makes an unholy row. Quite invisible to the naked eye.’

  Another nod. ‘Just remember to stick to what you’ve just told me. I’ll be with Hithuur and Helias.’

  Garan watched her go. She paused at the bodies and carts and dropped her head in brief prayer. Garan didn’t get it, not really. These were enemies. A waste of prayer, surely?

  ‘Garan, you wanted me?’ said Keller.

  Excluded briefly from Triverne, the city and college of magic, for conduct unbecoming a mage, Keller was the perfect man for this job. He had forty-three others with him. Sildaan had no idea of the power they represented.

  ‘What’s the situation over the city?’

  ‘We’ve had one setback. I’ll take you to the scene in a moment. Otherwise, the west is very quiet. No thread mobs on the streets. The temple piazza is very busy, as we assumed. Llyron is in great demand.’ Keller raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I’m more concerned about the south. Apposans and Beethans in particular. I want to avoid trouble there if I can.’

  ‘Last reports, the Apposans have gone into the forest and we don’t know where they are. The Beethans are numerous and have their quarter well defended but they are not venturing out.’

  ‘Can we take it?’

  ‘Swords and wards, my friend. Swords and wards.’

  Garan grinned. ‘How many swords do you need?’

  ‘Thirty will do it. Ten mages too.’

  ‘You’ve got them. Quick Hand is free now this work is done. Take him and thirty of his team and secure the Beethans. Let me know when it’s done.’ He laughed. ‘Gods drowning, and the elves think we’re the slow wits in this city. Now where’s this setback you were talking about?’ Garan had called for Sildaan when he reached the side street. Twelve dead. A mage and eleven swordsmen. That meant one soldier was missing. No trace of elven blood.

  ‘TaiGethen,’ said Sildaan.

  ‘I told you we should have followed them. Clearly they haven’t all run away to Aryndeneth.’

  ‘One thing we’ve always known is that they would be back. One thing I always knew was that they would evacuate the Ynissul. All you have to do is deal with them when they come back with purpose.’

  Garan chuckled. ‘Your sense of humour is keener than you know. You don’t call this slaughter, “purpose” then?’

  ‘No,’ said Sildaan. ‘Just one cell, I’d say. Here for a look around, but you said your people were tracking some Al-Arynaar away from the park. From the position of your forces, I’d guess this is where they trapped them. Shame for them that the Tai were here too.’

  Garan saw Sildaan was smiling. It was a wry expression and there was a minute shake of the head that he had come to associate with grudging respect.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, we didn’t find Pelyn among the dead in the park, did we? I wonder if she talked her way out of their clutches when Helias deserted them?’

  A door opened a little further down the street. Garan drew his blade. A lone man came gingerly into the light, his expression when he saw Garan only just short of euphoric. He was terribly pale and clutched a blood-soaked cloth over his other hand. He half ran, half stumbled over, bringing with him the stench of excrement and urine. Garan saw the stains on his trousers and held up his hands.

  ‘I think that’s close enough. What’s your name, son?’

  ‘I’m Naril, sir.’ He had stopped and was staring about him at the bodies in the street. Unpleasant memories played out, his face a mirror of his earlier fear. ‘They fell on us so quickly. I never saw them until they spoke to me.’

  ‘They spoke to you?’ said Garan.

  ‘What did they say?’ asked Sildaan.

  Garan loved hearing her talk the Balaian language. All her accents were wrong but it stirred something in his loins that he was a little conflicted to be feeling.

  ‘They warned me that we’d all die,’ said Naril.

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Garan. ‘One left standing to tell the tale. That’s something you and I have in common, young Naril. How many were they?’

  ‘Just two of the quick ones. Four others. Al-Arynaar but a bit shabby.’

  ‘Two?’ Garan turned to Sildaan. ‘Thoughts on who it might be?’

  ‘Not really. They only work in threes when they’re hunting. This was just a look about, I’m sure.’

  ‘It doesn’t affect our plans. Don’t worry about it, Naril. Get back to your ship. Find a mage to deal with your injury. Clean yourself up and get some rest.’

  Naril bobbed his head and ran off in the direction of the docks.

  ‘Plans?’ said Sildaan.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to hearing them at the Shorth temple this evening. I’m sure Llyron is too.’

  ‘Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.’

  ‘Again.’

  ‘Sildaan?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your humour. I was wrong about it.’ Pelyn was shaking like she had a fever. The shivers had settled on her not long after she ran into the staging camp. On her instruction, Tulan and Ephran had been disarmed and taken into custody by loyal Al-Arynaar. Similarly on her instruction, Methian was sleeping in one of the long dormitories. Pelyn herself had been sitting with Katyett when the shakes had come on. She’d been sure Katyett had something important to tell her but it had been forgotten when Pelyn’s teeth began to chatter.

  Katyett brought her a hot drink from one of the tree-trunk steamers the TaiGethen and Ynissul had built. Clever pieces that boiled water for washing and drinking but which gave out almost no smoke or flame due to the dispersal of the former through hollowed roots into a nearby stream and the shielding of the latter by an ingenious bamboo system for feeding air into a small clay dome placed under the trunk.

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing that won’t fix,’ said Katyett. ‘You’ve been through a lot. Just take your time. Feeling cold?’

  ‘No.’ Pelyn looked out into the darkening sky. ‘Just not very clean. And why is everyone looking at me?’

  ‘Probably because your face is a bit of a mess. We’ll see to it,’ said Katyett. ‘And what do you mean, everyone?’

  ‘All the TaiGethen for a start.’

  ‘You’re imagining things,’ said Katyett, who wouldn’t catch her eye.

  ‘I’m shaking; I haven’t gone blind,’ said Pelyn. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Later. Let’s get you straight first. Let’s talk about something else and try and bring this shock out.’

  ‘So there is something going on.’

  ‘Pelyn!’

  ‘All right, all right. What do you want to know?’

  ‘Well, we could start with the state of Ysundeneth.’

  ‘All right, but you can start by telling me why you didn’t mention you were going to hide here? It would have been useful information.’

  ‘For Lly
ron too,’ said Katyett. ‘Anyway, we didn’t know who we could trust.’

  ‘Well you could trust me,’ said Pelyn, knowing she was whining.

  ‘Come on, Pelyn. You’re smarter than this. You, I would trust with my life. Others in your organisation-’ Katyett nodded at Tulan and Ephran, apart from everyone else and under guard ‘-were not so worthy. Besides, we needed to leak the information deliberately to some Ynissul we knew had to be plants.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Not enough bruising. Not enough trauma. Too calm and too measured. There were five of them that we took to the Ultan. All of them have reported back on our apparent direction.’

  ‘And you’re sure there are no more?’

  Katyett shrugged. ‘We can never be completely sure. We’ve a couple of suspects but they aren’t going anywhere. This place is easy to defend from absconders and we’ve let it slip that anyone who leaves without permission will be in front of Shorth to explain themselves, not me. So, the city?’

  ‘You know almost as much as me. Merrat and Graf will have told you how many men are on the streets. They’ve set the place up brilliantly, you have to hand it to Sildaan and her ilk. There is no concerted defence. They knew the Al-Arynaar would be torn every which way. They probably thought we’d run with you. I wish we had. How many did we get out? A hundred and three? Pathetic. That means there are three hundred lost in there. Dead, captured or deserted. So many friends.’

  ‘How long before the city is under Llyron’s control.’

  ‘They’re moving very fast. The men are brutal and they have a coherent plan. They’re going from ghetto to ghetto, as far as we could make out. We think most elves are being confined in their homes or taken somewhere near the docks to makeshift prisons. I’ve no doubt the city’s prisons will be similarly employed when they’re captured. They’ll be in control by tonight. Tomorrow dawn at most.’

  Pelyn took a long draught of the guarana and clove infusion. She understood why Methian enjoyed it so. It smelled wonderful. Each swallow brought her renewed energy.

  ‘Llyron,’ said Katyett through a sigh. ‘Do you really believe it?’

  Pelyn laughed and shook her head. ‘Well I do now. Seriously, it gives you a lot of problems after this is over. The Ynissul are split from top to bottom. Who knows which other priests out there are of the same mind as the high priest of Shorth. Who are you going to appoint to the seat at Aryndeneth?’

  Katyett blew out her cheeks. ‘There’s no point wondering about that right now. If they win, we’ll find Hithuur or Sildaan in the chair, I’ve no doubt.’

  ‘How can we win? There are so few of us. How many TaiGethen and Silent do you think will come?’

  ‘I don’t know. A hundred if everyone reads the call to muster. We’ll know in about eight days.’

  ‘Eight days?’ Pelyn’s shakes had gone completely now only to be replaced by a gnawing desperation in her gut. ‘By that time, Llyron will have the city sewn up completely. What chance will there be for a small force with none of this magic to call on and no defence against it? Tual’s tongue, they can even fly.’

  ‘Eight days will seem a long time to them too. Every night we’ll be mounting raids. We’ll kill men and leave their bodies laid out in their most secure places as warnings. We’ll undermine their moves to subdue the population. We’ll make sure there is no security for anyone in that city.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ said Pelyn. ‘I hope there is the will in the people to follow you, to go back to peace knowing their neighbours would have killed them the day before.’

  ‘But there is reason to hope. Or I think there is. And it isn’t me we want them to follow. I have to tell you something. It’ll come as another shock. It did me.’

  And Pelyn knew. With total certainty she knew, and the shudders came back so strongly she dropped the rough wooden cup onto the ground. A return to the past. To the pain and the confusion. That was why the TaiGethen were staring at her with all that sympathy. Her and Katyett both. Old wounds to be opened. Old memories to be scraped raw. And she had only just finished waking up without the pain of rejection in her heart.

  ‘It’s Takaar, isn’t it? He’s coming back, isn’t he?’

  Chapter 28

  Keep your enemy turning. That way, when you come to strike, he will not know from where you have come. ‘Would he have killed you?’ Serrin had returned to his gruff-voiced terse self. Auum found that most comforting. ‘His mind is not strong.’

  ‘That, my priest, is a major understatement. He moves from lucid teacher to muttering introspection to this new thing of allying with the voice in his head. He hates himself and then there are flashes of the sort of ridiculous pride he never ever fell prey to when he was at his height on Hausolis. What sort of good can he possibly do? And yes, I have no doubt he would have killed me. You should have seen him. He is so fast.’

  Serrin frowned. ‘I did see him.’

  ‘Watching the show, were you?’

  Serrin smiled.

  ‘How long were you tracking us?’

  ‘From Verendii Tual.’

  ‘Good. And how is the muster?’

  ‘Most know. All who know are travelling.’

  ‘We need to move on,’ said Auum. ‘The boat is up on the beach.’

  Serrin looked at Takaar. He was sitting on a rock at the side of the stream. Serrin’s appearance seemed to have knocked him back into introspection. He had been conversing with his tormentor for an hour, only looking at them to unleash another stream of expletives in their direction.

  ‘Takaar is less dangerous on foot.’

  Auum nodded. ‘I know, but we could be horribly slow. I don’t understand this. When I met him, he hated this other voice. Did everything he could to antagonise it.’

  ‘Ten years is a long time to live with such guilt alone.’

  ‘We’re giving him the chance to redeem himself.’

  ‘He may not see it that way.’

  Takaar was staring at them. His face was pale. He was chewing at his top lip and frowning as if trying to recall something. He pointed at Auum.

  ‘Your left guard is fractionally low. It leaves your temple vulnerable. ’

  Auum opened his mouth to protest. ‘Thank you,’ he said instead.

  Takaar nodded at Serrin. ‘Your stance was in error. Though you may have killed me with the knife, it is possible I could have jabbed back with an elbow and burst a testicle. Your left foot was in too close, your stance was too open. Your neck grip was sound but approach sideways. Don’t give me a target next time.’

  Serrin nodded his thanks.

  ‘We should move on,’ said Auum. ‘The boat is-’

  Takaar was shaking his head.

  ‘Not the boat. Never again. I’m scared of water.’ Takaar dissolved into helpless laughter. Eventually, he regained control enough to speak again. ‘He has been trying to get me to kill myself by jumping into a river, and he never knew I was so terrified of the water, not the drop, that I would never do it if I lived to be ten thousand.’

  Takaar snorted and snot blew from his nose. Auum jerked a thumb back to the ocean.

  ‘But you just swam a hundred and fifty yards. I watched you. You are an excellent swimmer.’

  Takaar was clutching his gut against the pain of his laughter.

  ‘Why do you think I was so fast? Think what might be below the surface. Ready to snap at my toes. Ready to drag me under.’ Takaar’s mirth dried up as quickly as it had come. ‘To drown. To have no option but to open your mouth and let the water flood your lungs. To feel your life ebbing away and all you can do is claw at the sunlight just out of reach.’

  Takaar was staring at his hand, opening and closing his fist. Serrin and Auum exchanged a glance.

  ‘I’ll go and bring the gear from the boat.’

  Serrin nodded. Both elves rose. Auum saw Serrin walk over to Takaar, heard him speak.

  ‘A prayer?’ he asked.

  ‘The gods no longer lis
ten to my prayers,’ said Takaar.

  Auum passed out of earshot. Breaking out of the rainforest and into the sea breeze, Auum took several huge breaths, letting the freshness suffuse him. The sea lapping on the beach was a pure and beautiful sound and the smells carried on the water invigorated him.

  Auum paused on his way to the boat, turning back to the forest. He replayed the events of the last two hours, which had already taken on an unreal quality. He felt his nose. It was swollen and crusted with blood. It itched like mad.

  ‘Real enough.’

  He shuddered as he plucked Takaar’s bags and blowpipe from the boat. He was lucky to be alive, not standing before Shorth, pleading his case to be admitted to the halls of the ancients. Auum shrugged his shoulders to dispel the thought. Under the aft bench was a leather bag for storing the catch. It wasn’t big, suggesting the confidence of the owner of the boat. But it was of a size and quality perfect for Auum’s needs. He transferred the packages of meat to it along with the net sack of Takaar’s herbs, poultices and poisons.

  Auum hefted the sack onto his right shoulder and trotted back under the canopy. He came upon Serrin and Takaar close together, hands in the dirt. Serrin was praying silently. What Takaar was doing was anyone’s guess. Auum liked to think he was praying too but for the one who once walked with gods, that might have been a step too far.

  The TaiGethen waited for them to finish.

  ‘How far to Ysundeneth?’ he asked of Serrin.

  ‘Six, seven days. We’re heading for the old staging camp.’

  Auum nodded. ‘A good place to strike from. Takaar, are you ready?’

  ‘That is yet to be determined.’ A hundred men surrounded the Gardaryn. Behind them stood curious fearful elves of every thread. Ordinary elves too scared to leave their homes until now were emerging as the city quietened, cowed under the iron fist of human mercenaries. Twenty mages stood with the men.

  Cloud was thickening overhead. The first real rains of the day were imminent. Sildaan stood with Garan, Hithuur and Helias. Mages overflew the building. The doors were all closed, the windows shuttered. The turrets were empty.