Elves: Beyond the Mists of Katura

by James Barclay

  Auum had seen Gyaam’s Blessing turn east towards them and sail across the bows of the front rank of enemy vessels. Just astern of them, Spirit mirrored the move, ploughing west across the light swell and triggering a belated reaction from the enemy.

  Esteren sailed astern and out of range of the front rank before pointing up a few degrees into the wind to come between their target vessels. They closed fast. The sounds of the ocean, gulls and sails were joined by the roars of the Wesmen crowding the rails of their ships. The Il-Aryn’s casting snapped into place. A weight settled on Auum’s shoulders and he breathed deeply to ease it.

  Wytch Lord black fire crashed into the barrier, spitting and fizzing, seeking a weakness to exploit. The barrier bowed and rippled, and the Il-Aryn gritted their teeth. The ships closed; walls of timber bristling with sharpened steel in the hands of powerful warriors.

  ‘Know your landing!’ called Auum. ‘Steel is death! Fight hard, move fast. Remember: over there we have no defence against the black fire.’

  ‘Ready, Auum!’ called Esteren. ‘Coming up five more points.’

  The ship turned. Sails began to luff, spilling wind as Esteren moved as close to the wind as he dared. The gaps between the three vessels closed dramatically but were still too far for any human to jump. Not so a TaiGethen. The Soul of Yniss lost way.

  ‘Now!’ yelled Esteren. ‘I can’t hold her here.’

  ‘Tais, with me.’

  Auum led – surging up from a crouch, bouncing on the rail and launching himself towards the enemy ship. He locked on to his landing point on the upper hull just below the main deck. As he arrowed his body and flew in head first, feeling arrows whip by, a bright yellow light surged across the sky ahead of him. It was an orb of flame, human magic, and it detonated against the hull of the central enemy ship. Stein was casting.

  ‘Bless you, my friend,’ said Auum.

  He landed, gripped instantly and propelled himself up using all the power his arms could muster. He rose across the eye line of the Wesman warriors, thumped his feet down on the rail and took off again instantly, turning a half twist in the air, drawing his twin swords and landing on the deck.

  TaiGethen thudded down in a line on either side of him on the crowded deck, Ulysan was immediately to his right and Ollem, his third, was on his left. Auum didn’t wait for the Wesmen to turn. He hacked a blade into the neck of one warrior and drove his second into the lower back of another just below the laces that secured his leather chest plate.

  Wesman bodies fell along the starboard rail. Others plunged screaming into the sea. The survivors were turning to face them now. Others flooded across the deck from other parts of the ship.

  ‘Get among them,’ called Auum. ‘Ulysan, Ollem, with me. Head aft.’

  Without clear targets at close quarters, the shamen concentrated their fire on the Soul of Yniss as she moved away at her best speed to the north, aiming to come about once she’d reached clear water. Auum glanced over at the shield, opaque and alien-looking. It wasn’t as solid as before. Most of the enemy fire was concentrated on the top of the shield where it closed over the mainmast, and ruptures appeared sporadically. They closed quickly but were deflating the defence little by little.

  Wesman shouts, orders and abuse rolled all around them. Weapons clashed, jaqruis mourned across short spaces and blood sprayed over sailcloth. Auum ran past a cell forming up to take on a large band of Wesmen closing from both sides of the mainmast.

  ‘Duele, head forward and get to the shamen. They’re doing too much damage to the Il-Aryn barrier.’

  ‘Yes, my Arch.’

  Duele surged into the attack, swaying left to evade a powerful thrust to his head and jabbing his right-hand blade into the neck of his attacker, his left into the midriff of a second. Auum ran on, his Tai at his shoulders. The space was closing ahead of them.

  ‘He’s good, that Duele,’ said Ulysan.

  ‘One day he’ll run with us,’ said Auum. ‘When he matures. Give it a century or two. Let’s get to it.’

  The Tai ahead was under pressure from quick and strong attackers. Auum saw the elf barely block an overhead blow and stumble back. The Wesman went in for the kill, but a blade from the right caught him in the side and he fell into his comrades, blood sluicing from the wound.

  ‘Hassek, overhead in three,’ called Auum. ‘Tai with me.’

  Auum ran on two paces, planted his right foot and jumped, turning a roll over Hassek’s Tai and the attacking Wesmen. The moment his feet touched the deck he spun and slashed both his blades into the back of the nearest enemy, then ran on into a moment’s clear space.

  Crewmen were running from them back towards the wheel deck. At the helm the captain was barking orders and warnings. Other crewmen were headed up into the rigging.

  ‘Beware above,’ said Auum.

  ‘Got it,’ said Ulysan.

  ‘Ollem, stay right. Watch the shamen, they have fast hands.’

  ‘Yes, my Arch.’

  Auum saw the Wesmen form a line at the head of the wheel deck, crowding the two short flights of steps. Eight of them protected their shamen, whose fire was still playing over the Soul’s barrier, tearing greater and greater holes in its fabric. Auum sheathed his left blade and pulled a jaqrui from its pouch, throwing it backhand.

  The blade whispered away and up, taking a slight deflection off the deck rail and whipping past its target’s defence. It chopped into the base of his nose, slicing deep into the upper jawbone. The Wesman shrieked, his head snapping back, his sword dropping from his hands and his body toppling.

  Ulysan took the left stairs and Ollem the right. Auum ran up the stair rail next to his fledgling Tai, sword in both hands. The Wesmen didn’t flinch. Auum beat back a swipe to his head and snapped a kick into the face of his attacker before bringing his sword down at an angle to carve deep into his neck.

  Next to him Ollem batted away two strikes, ducked a third and jabbed up into the groin of his nearest foe. Auum leaped from the rail, drawing his second blade again. The Wesmen had backed up a pace and closed ranks. Auum could see the shamen behind them and, beyond them, the wheel and the skipper.

  Ulysan launched a ferocious attack on his end of the line. He dropped, swept the legs from one before he even registered the move, buried a blade in his neck, bounced to his feet and swiped his blades across in front of him, taking another in the head and chest.

  Three left and still they would not flee, not that there was anywhere to run. The centre of the trio came at Auum, bringing the others with him. Auum crossed his blades in front of his face and at arm’s length to catch the heavy overhead blow from the Wesman’s axe. He felt the power in the man’s arms and saw the fury in his face.

  Auum heaved the axe up, shifted quickly to the right and aimed a kick into the man’s knee, smashing the joint backwards. The warrior crumpled, trying to strike a blow as he fell. Auum moved beyond the wild swipe and stabbed him through his heart.

  Ollem and Ulysan finished their work and the Tai ran on. It was just a handful of paces to the group of seven shamen, whose fire swept away from the Soul and towards the onrushing TaiGethen.

  ‘Jaqrui, jaqrui!’ yelled Auum.

  He dropped both blades and dragged out his jaqruis, hurling them hard at the shamen. One caught the edge of a line of black fire and was knocked up and away to tear through the canvas above their heads. The second lodged in the base of his target’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound and the shaman clutched at himself, his fire dying with him. Auum saw Ulysan’s jaqruis take out two more.

  Auum pitched himself to the deck, rolling low. Turning he saw the jaqruis still in Ollem’s hands. The whelp had sheathed his swords first, losing precious time. He got the blades away but a line of fire drilled into his chest above his heart, setting his leather jerkin aflame.

  ‘Ollem down!’ shouted Auum as he completed his roll, stood and lashed a kick into the shaman’s head, knocking him senseless and quenching his fire. Ollem gasped and fell. Ul
ysan flew over Auum’s head and thumped down in the midst of them. It was unsophisticated but very effective.

  Ulysan was up the next instant, his feet and hands moving faster than any of them could follow. Auum ran around him to the crewmen standing at the wheel, who saw him coming. The helmsman let go of the wheel and scrabbled backwards to the aft rail. The captain, like his warriors, showed no fear and took the wheel himself.

  Auum knocked him down with a straight punch to his mouth and nose. He glared at the helmsman. ‘Only way is to jump,’ he said in halting human.

  He stood astride the captain. The man, his face bloodied and his nose flattened, stared at Auum through eyes confused by the blow to his head.

  ‘Who are you?’ he managed.

  ‘I am Auum.’ He took a jaqrui from its pouch and sliced the captain’s neck open.

  The helmsman had jumped and would drown in the sea. Auum turned from the captain’s body and took the bobbing wheel. He turned it hard to starboard, towards the central ship of the rear line, which was already burning under the force of Stein’s spell. He wedged the captain’s body under the wheel, locking the rudder.

  He trotted over to where Ulysan knelt with Ollem. The youngster was both moving and talking.

  ‘How do you feel?’ asked Ulysan.

  ‘I’ll live,’ said Ollem, coughing. ‘The heat . . . Thank you, Auum.’

  ‘You were lucky. We’ll get Stein to take a look at you. Can you still fight?’ asked Auum.

  ‘I can.’

  ‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘Fast hands, Ollem.’

  ‘Yes, my Arch.’

  Auum stood. The fight on the ship was all but done. He could see Duele at the prow, looking for more targets, but the body of one TaiGethen lay on the deck. Auum cursed.

  ‘Let’s clear up and get overboard. Much to do and the day is waning.’

  Capricious moved steadily between her two enemies, one of which was beset by TaiGethen. The other was unchallenged for now. The distance to her had been too great for the TaiGethen to risk. The skipper would come around for another pass.

  The shaman casting was relentless, scouring the barrier for weaknesses. Black fire spat through with increasing regularity, and Drech’s voice, calm at the outset, was strained as he fought to keep his adepts together.

  Stein could sense the barrier beginning to weaken in several places and the shamen could sense it too. Their fire was moving steadily towards the mana lacing the construct, and where the two forces met the Wytch Lord power was the greater.

  ‘Takaar, that barrier is going to fail.’

  Takaar stared at him as if he’d just recommended suicide.

  ‘How little you know,’ he snapped. ‘There is nothing they can do to pierce it.’ He giggled into his hands and whispered to his other self, casting a sidelong glance at Stein, who clung resolutely to his temper.

  ‘They are picking at the mana strands, Takaar. You only have to look.’

  ‘We have them defended.’

  ‘You do not!’ spat Stein. ‘Look, damn you.’

  Takaar drew himself up and advanced on Stein. ‘You forget yourself, human. I am Ta—’

  ‘Save it,’ said Stein and he turned away. ‘Drech! Look to your mana stitching!’

  ‘You will not undermine me!’ howled Takaar.

  Drech had heard him, Stein was certain of it. He felt a change in the focus through the barrier. He rounded on Takaar, finding him but a pace away.

  ‘I’m trying to save your life. All our lives.’

  ‘I am the voice on this vessel,’ said Takaar, so furious his face was colouring and his whole body shook. ‘How dare you speak for me?’

  Stein made to grab his collar, but Takaar moved impossibly fast. Stein felt his hand being swept aside and himself falling, registering that his legs had been taken from under him only when his backside struck the deck hard. Takaar pounced on him, knees either side of his chest, his hands around Stein’s throat. He was smiling, and Stein felt a chill throughout his body alongside the trembling beat of his heart.

  ‘Not just Il-Aryn but TaiGethen too,’ said Takaar, increasing the pressure on his throat. He smirked. ‘Silly human thinks to lay a hand on me.’

  ‘Takaar.’ Stein gulped. ‘Don’t. We need each other.’

  ‘I think that time has passed.’

  Takaar’s hands gripped tighter. Stein had his hands on the elf’s wrists but Takaar was strong and his madness only made him stronger. Stein began to choke, praying Drech or someone could see what was happening. Nothing else was going to save him.

  A scream rent the air. Black fire cascaded through a great tear in the barrier, which collapsed in on itself, dumping freezing water across the deck. Takaar’s head snapped round and he was gone as fast as he had struck. Stein sat up. The Il-Aryn were sprawled on the deck or stumbling around dazed. One had blood pouring from her ears and she screamed again, her voice taken up by others.

  ‘Get it back!’ roared Takaar from somewhere, his voice desperate and high. ‘Get! It! Back!’

  ‘Too late,’ murmured Stein.

  Black fire lashed the ship from the fingertips of a dozen hands. Stein dived for the questionable sanctuary that was the base of the mainmast, shuddering at the thought that he’d seen all this before and it hadn’t ended well. Jagged like lightning, the fire bit into rigging, sail and timber. Fingers of magic tore at the hull, ripping into timbers and shattering them, tearing off great splinters and hurling them up into the sky.

  Fire laced the deck, spitting holes and slicing through yards, sheets and stays. Above him sailcloth burned. Black streaks pounded into the great trunk of the mainmast. Stein felt it shudder and creak above him, a snapping noise sounded deep within it.

  All around him elves were diving for whatever cover they could find. Il-Aryn, crew and TaiGethen alike fled, and for far too many it was hopeless. Javelins of hateful magic buried in chest, face and gut, throwing their victims around like dolls. He saw a TaiGethen pinioned to the rail, fire blazing from his eyes, his body jerking and smouldering before the power was done with him and he fell into the water below.

  ‘Got to do something,’ muttered Stein, though he knew a spell would draw their fire to him like moths.

  He could hear the Wytch Lord magic smashing beneath him, tearing the ship apart. Capricious was heeled over now and the unmistakeable sound of rushing water added to the screams, the crackle of flames and the splintering of wood. From above flame rained down as the sails disintegrated. And, with a decisive crack, the mainmast broke and fell to port.

  Stein hurried around the base, finding himself in the firing line.

  ‘Get overboard!’ someone shouted. ‘Abandon ship! Abandon ship.’

  ‘Not yet.’ Stein prepared quickly, his mind focused while his body prepared for the death strike of enemy fire that must surely come. ‘Have some of this!’

  Stein stood, spread his hands as wide as he could and cast. Ice borne on a hurricane howled from his fingertips, over the heads of desperate and dying elves, across the sea and into the heart of the enemy vessel. Timbers, sails and faces blackened under the onslaught of the super-cooled storm. Frost rimed mast and spars. It gathered in waves across the deck. And it killed. The thought of that was so good Stein didn’t want it to stop.

  Wesmen and their so recently triumphant shamen had their shouts of victory frozen in their throats. Their limbs seized, their hearts became frost and the blood in their veins was stilled in an instant. The black fire shut off but for one shaman in the stern, who turned his focus from the ship’s hull to the lone mage.

  Stein saw it coming and dived aside. Dread magic spat across the deck where he’d been standing.

  ‘Whoa!’

  He rolled and came to his feet, scrabbling to find a little more cover, though precious little was left. Waves were breaking over the starboard rail as the vessel heeled over. She wallowed, and the bodies of elves shifted in time with the ocean.

  ‘Time to go.’

  Ste
in raced for the bow, pulling together a final casting on the run. It was difficult to concentrate. The shaman had him in his sights and the black fire was closing fast. Deck timbers split behind him. The ashes of sails floated about his head. Fire raged over the jib sail, which flapped glowing edges, spraying hot canvas across his vision.

  Stein prayed he had enough of the casting together to make sense and dived over the bow rail. Wings of Shade sprouted from his shoulder blades, wisps at first but strengthening as he poured everything he had left into them. He powered into a climb, feeling his feet trace the wave tips before he spun into a full ascent, gaining height so quickly it stole his breath.

  Well beyond the reach of Wytch Lord magic, Stein levelled and circled, making a lazy descent to survey the state of the fight. He tried to take in as much as he could, anything that might be of use to those who needed to know.

  Behind the rear line of the enemy, the Soul of Yniss was in clear water and executing a turn that would bring her on to a run back through the carnage. The rear line itself was in total chaos. In the centre the ship he’d fired earlier was going nowhere. The sails had burned away and the masts were aflame. One was down and the deck and hull were awash with fire. She would sink inside the hour.

  Immediately to her port side, another enemy vessel was on a collision course with her. Every sail was full and she looked a picture of serenity. All that was missing was any movement on her deck or her rigging. Stein took a breath. These TaiGethen were something else when they got to work. It was much the same story with the remaining vessels in the back line. Some fighting was still going on, but the black fire had been silenced. Around the dead vessels the water was full of elves swimming hard for their next targets, making progress through the water that a dolphin would respect. Well, perhaps not quite, but that was the story he was going to tell when he got back to Julatsa.

  At the head of the enemy fleet things were not quite so clear cut. The central vessel of the front five, which they’d dubbed the flagship whether it was or not, was continuing unchallenged, just as they’d planned, knowing they could catch it with their superior speed. But the vessel on its port side was also intact, meaning the Spirit of Tual had failed to get her TaiGethen close enough to board.