‘Thank you for speaking to me. I am Auum.’
The iad smiled. She was middle-aged. Lines of worry creased her forehead and grey flecked her hair. Her clothes were drab but clean and her face was proud.
‘I am Nerille.’
‘How long has Takaar been here?’
‘For two days. His arrival caused trouble with the Tualis, and he killed Calen, head of the thread gang. For that we are thankful. Every dead supplier of edulis is a good one.’
Auum had to smile. Even in Takaar’s madness, there remained a core that was good.
‘Where is he now? With the Gyalans? Or perhaps the Ixii?’
Nerille raised her eyebrows. ‘You know why he’s here, then. He says it is for the good of all elves. I presume he’s here to fight.’
‘I wish that were true,’ said Auum. ‘But he wants to take those he seeks away to train them as mages when they should remain here and hold blades. How many has he convinced?’
‘Quite a lot.’ Nerille shrugged. ‘Two hundred? I don’t really know. He speaks to them several times a day, urging them to bring more to the next meeting. They are captivated by him.’
‘Where does he speak?’
‘In the temple of Ix.’
Nerille pointed across the circle to the garishly painted temple, its single spire twisting up to the heavens and its founding timbers carved to resemble the roots of trees.
‘Thank you, Nerille, that is most helpful.’
She smiled. ‘Can we beat them, the enemy? I have a family, ulas of fighting age, though two of the three seem to have become devotees of Takaar. I will not risk them in grand failure.’
‘We will prevail,’ said Auum. ‘And if it makes you happier, I will stand by them and see them survive. We must save as many as we can. You are all that is left of the free elves.’
Nerille took his hands impulsively. ‘We will stay. We will fight.’
Auum kissed her cheeks then drew back, another question on his mind.
‘Is Pelyn still alive?’
Nerille sighed. ‘Yes, after a fashion. She fell under Calen’s spell and it is a spell not easily broken. She’s with Takaar now, what’s left of her.’
Auum stared at the temple. ‘She’s about to discover she has work to do.’
Chapter 28
There was a moment when some elves questioned their god-given right to own the rainforest and the survival of the entire race hung by a gossamer thread.
From A Charting of Decline, by Pelyn, Arch of the Al-Arynaar, Governor of Katura
As Auum marched into the temple of Ix, Pelyn was once again counting the time since her last smoke of nectar. Its absence burned through her mind and made mud of her bones. It shouted through every nerve and made each breath a quivering exertion of almost insurmountable magnitude.
Her nose could smell it, her teeth ground on its memory and her eyes fogged with images of it. She couldn’t escape the memory of smoke writhing in the air, the glorious feeling of the spirit washing through her body, the escape over the waters to the retreat of her mind, the feeling of others around her, at one with her body and loving her flesh so much that they clung to her always.
‘Need it,’ she muttered.
‘No, you don’t,’ whispered a voice.
Pelyn was startled. Takaar was in the middle of an oration. The temple was full of his acolytes hanging on his every word, devouring his promises and eager to taste the glory of the Il-Aryn. He was no better than Calen had been, busy peddling his own drug, his own promises. But Calen was dead and her route to edulis had gone because she was being chaperoned day and night. She’d only just remembered their names even though they were very old friends.
Pelyn hunched her shoulders and looked to the ula on her left. He was Tuali, strong and loyal, though if her memory served he hadn’t always been that way.
‘Tulan,’ she said. ‘You know I’ve broken the habit, don’t you? So one more won’t hurt. Just to say goodbye.’
‘I’m afraid we need you clean,’ said another voice, Ephram’s.
Both were Al-Arynaar and both were wearing their cloaks once again.
‘What happened to you?’ she frowned, wondering why she cared. Neither of them seemed likely to supply her.
‘When the purge came we hid in the ghetto, just as you told us to, waiting for our chance to return. As you said we should.’
‘I said that?’ Pelyn smiled. ‘So I saved you. Are you grateful enough to find me some nectar? It really will be the last time.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Tulan. ‘I—’
There was an ula walking down one of the aisles towards the dais from which Takaar was speaking. No one moved to stop him. No one dared.
‘When did he get here?’
Pelyn had been aware of the odd snatch of noise from outside the temple but had thought it was just the normal business of a market day. A theatre group perhaps; there still was one in Katura. It seemed she had been wrong. She watched Auum. He moved with such poise. Eyes were drawn to him from across the temple and eventually even Takaar was forced to acknowledge him.
‘Ah, a cloud has come to cover the sun,’ he said, and the temperature in the temple seemed to cool. ‘An ill voice comes to disrupt our harmony. Please, my elves of the new age, stay. I will return when Auum and I have spoken.’
‘I have no intention of conducting this conversation in private,’ said Auum, his tones providing a harsh counterpart to Takaar’s gentle oration. ‘This must stop.’
For a moment the craving left Pelyn while she watched the two most powerful elves on Calaius clash like panthers over hunting grounds.
‘They will not listen to you, and why should they? These are free elves. Free of will and free of thought. And they have chosen the path for the new generation. The Il-Aryn courses through their bodies and I will give them control of it and so bring us the power we need to rid Calaius of man.’
‘Going to do all that in ten days, are you?’
Auum’s tone was contemptuous. He had continued walking until he stood a mere pace from Takaar. His whole body was a signature of the threat he posed. Takaar was quick but Auum was like lightning, and Pelyn could see Takaar knew it.
Takaar chuckled and waved a hand. ‘With the TaiGethen among us, we need not fear man, surely?’
‘You haven’t told them, have you?’ Auum pointed north. ‘An army is coming. Following you. It will be here in ten days. The great Takaar forgot to mention it, didn’t he? There is a time for magic but it is not now. Any of you who leave with him are nothing but cowards running from the fight.
‘Look at you. All of you. Fit young ulas and iads whose minds are being tricked. What use is there in magic if there is no elven race left to save with it? You must stand with me and fight with blade, bow and fist. Standing together, we are strong enough. Leave and you weaken us all. When the battle is won, go with my blessing. But not now. I need you. The elven race needs you.’
‘They do not need your blessing to become Il-Aryn.’ Takaar’s whole face was a sneer. ‘But I tell you what: I will give them the choice you would deny them. Any of you who wish to fight, bleed and die with Auum, please move outside. Any who wish to stay and learn the greatest of lessons, remain seated.’
Not one of them left; they applauded and Auum stood humiliated. Pelyn feared what he might do, but there was not a twitch towards violence.
‘You are a traitor to the elves, Takaar,’ said Auum when the applause had died down.
Takaar did not appear to care. ‘No, Auum, if anyone betrays us it is you and those who would deny the future of us all.’
‘Very well. Take your people and go. But do it now. No other will be allowed to join you. Do not make a scene and do not make a fuss. I will not allow you to grandstand your miserable exit. And when you reach whatever hiding place you have in the forest, send me the Senserii. At least give me them. They are worth ten of each of your little gang.’
‘I will not give up my loyal defend
ers,’ said Takaar. ‘But I will give you this.’
He unshouldered his backpack and proffered it to Auum with the reverence due a priceless religious token. Auum stared at it and then at Takaar, contempt making a mask of his features.
‘For all that you are denying the elves of Calaius, you are giving me a sack in return? Insult me again and I will kill you and damn the consequences.’
Takaar raised a hand to quell the tension that had sprung up in the temple.
‘Do not make your ignorance so public, Auum. Within this sack are those things I always worked upon and you always eschewed despite my urgent advice. But use arrows, not blowpipes. Pipes are too short range and I have perfected a viscosity that sits well upon an arrowhead.’ He proffered it again and Auum took it. ‘There’s enough in there to kill two thousand, I’d say. Maybe a few more if you’re careful with it. But don’t touch it. Death on contact.’
Takaar smiled beatifically and Pelyn thought Auum would lay him out. The TaiGethen’s left fist balled but then relaxed. He turned and stalked back down the aisle, daring any to speak to him. None did. At the door he stopped and turned and his eyes fixed on her.
‘Pelyn, you are coming with me. That is not an option, Al-Arynaar, it is an order. You have a cloak. It is time you wore it once more.’
Auum simmered. Katura was in an appalling state. The TaiGethen had sought out those they felt could lead or add significant skills to their efforts and come back with an estimate that eighty per cent of the city lay in the hands of two suppliers of narcotics and luxury items – rare plants and herbs, spirits and fine cloth.
Much of it was sourced from the many villages still working, as they always had, through the long years of elven existence in the rainforest. But plainly they were under the control of the larger thread gangs, the Tualis and the Beethans. As for the edulis, which came at a staggering price in terms of land and goods, it was manufactured in the city.
‘We should shut them down,’ said Ulysan. ‘Put an end to their influence here.’
The TaiGethen were beginning to assemble in the hall of the Al-Arynaar. The day was almost over and the evening chorus was sounding loud from the rainforest below the palm of Yniss. In the relative peace that had descended on the city now Takaar had departed, the sound of the falls, distant through the trees that lined the lowlands, was mesmeric.
‘That is the Al-Arynaar’s job,’ said Auum. ‘Or it should have been. We have neither the time nor the strength to clear them out. We have to win their support with word and action.’
‘I think you’re being naive,’ said Elyss. ‘We were out there while you were getting rid of Takaar. They won’t speak to us. They just watch. They’re dangerous and they have huge influence here.’
Auum shrugged. ‘They have no courage. We are fighting for the survival of our race.’
‘It’s so simple for you, isn’t it, Auum?’
It was Pelyn. She’d been asleep much of the late afternoon, Elyss sitting with her and guards positioned on her balconies. Tulan and Ephram, the two young Tuali Al-Arynaar, were organising the main hall for the evening’s meeting, clearing the floor and setting up tables around the edges. Auum wasn’t sure about them. Very quick to run, it seemed, and equally quick to return when the wind changed.
Pelyn still looked pale but there was some spark in her eyes again. Auum knew enough about edulis not to take that as a sure sign of recovery, but it was a start.
‘It is simple,’ said Auum. ‘If we are defeated here, we are finished. If we win, we can cleanse our forest and resume the lives they stole from us.’
‘But Auum, it’s not in the drug gangs’ interests to believe you,’ said Pelyn.
‘Really? Who will they sell their poison to if the elves are all dead?’
‘You aren’t listening. They won’t relinquish their power. Their grip is so strong here.’
‘And it should never have been allowed to become so,’ said Auum, thrusting his face towards Pelyn. ‘What happened to you? What happened to the Al-Arynaar? You were loved and respected and the city was growing so well. Yet the last Al-Arynaar I spoke to was Methian, and he’d been banished, his life threatened, just like Lysael.
‘I trusted you, Pelyn. I believed in you. But you took the edulis. You failed yourself, the Al-Arynaar and the elves of Katura. When I walked in here I wondered why I was trying to save our country. Think on that and think on your own weakness.’
Auum’s anger burned hot. He was standing over Pelyn, who had shrivelled before him. She was shaking and there were tears in her eyes.
‘You weren’t here,’ said Pelyn, her voice tiny. ‘You do not know.’
‘I know that Nerille of Katura has raised a family in the midst of this chaos and violence and none of them are addicts, none of them fell. People who have no strength of arms but who have everything in here.’ Auum placed a hand over his heart; his voice had dropped to a harsh whisper. ‘And if we lose that, we lose everything.’
‘Then why do you want me here? What use do you think I am?’
Auum stared into Pelyn’s eyes. There he found confusion and loss and a terrible desperation – a longing that touched his soul.
‘You are Pelyn, Arch of the Al-Arynaar. I know what you are capable of. I know the depth of your faith.’ Auum took her hands. ‘I hate what has happened to you and to this city, but that does not dim my love for you. But first you must admit your failings and make peace with Tual and Yniss.
‘Only then can you replace your cloak and resume your rightful place. Can you do this?’
Pelyn did not hesitate. ‘I will.’
Auum kissed her forehead. ‘Then go to your temple to pray. Tomorrow, I need you to begin teaching those who have never held a sword how to survive a battle.’
Auum watched her go with Tulan and Ephram flanking her. Her bearing was proud but her left hand rubbed continuously at her right arm. He hoped Tual could give her the succour she needed.
‘You were too hard on her,’ said Elyss.
‘Anyone who is not squarely behind us will drag us back. We cannot afford that.’
‘So what about the drug gangs?’ said Merrat.
The TaiGethen were all here now and Katurans were beginning to filter in.
‘How many do they number?’ asked Auum.
‘In the hundreds,’ said Faleen. ‘And they may be able to bully more to join their cause, such as it is.’
‘We can threaten people with death if they do not fight with us too, but it’ll be death at the hands of man.’ Auum thought briefly. ‘We will not face them head on. Any resources they own, we will take. Any who oppose you with violence, strike down. Otherwise, they must be ignored. Let them make the moves, and so turn the population against them. Let them be the ones seen to risk all for their greed.’
The hall filled quickly while the night darkened. Torch- and lantern-light cast shadows high up into the vaulted timber roof. Nervous elves gathered in front of a line of tables behind which stood the TaiGethen. On the tables, paper and quills were ready to record names, skills, requirements and timescales.
Auum stood centre with Merrat and Grafyrre. He sampled the mood of the hall. Anxiety and determination dominated but there was still scepticism. With people still coming in through the open doors, Auum moved forward to speak.
‘You are here because you believe in the hope of victory in the fight to come. For that I thank you, and for all the work that must be done to ensure this hope is not false. I am going to ask more of you than any of you can imagine. You may believe our task is insurmountable but it is not.
‘I know what has happened in your city, but you can already see change is coming. The Al-Arynaar once again wear their cloaks with pride and purpose. They are few now but their numbers will grow quickly.’
Auum indicated the Al-Arynaar, thirty-four of them, who stood at the doors and ringed the walls.
‘I know you have lived under the fist of the thread gangs. You no longer need fear them. Takaar ha
s already cut the head from the Tuali beast’s body. The Beethans have remained quiet, as the cowards they are.
‘Their activities cease today. Help the addicts they have poisoned. Take back what they have stolen from you, not with a blade but with your will to turn this city around to face man and defeat him.’
A ripple of applause and a fledgling cheer rose up from the two hundred or so elves gathered in the hall only to be stilled by a commotion outside. Shouting, and the sound of swords being drawn, shivered through the hall, chilling the mood and giving Auum a taste of the task he faced to rebuild the Katurans’ courage. TaiGethen began to move but Auum held his arms out for calm.
A large body of elves forced their way through the crowd, shoving people aside, snarling threats and insults on their way to the front of the hall. They were Beethans, with powerful frames as befitted those born to the god of tree, root and branch, and angular features with prominent cheekbones, arrowhead noses and narrow mouths.
An iad led them. She was dressed in fine cloth and carried a thin sharp blade. Seventy or eighty crowded around her, every one armed with a bow or sword. The ordinary people shied away. Some had already fled the hall but most filtered behind the Al-Arynaar, who had come forward into the centre of the hall to provide what little defence they could. The taunts from the Beethans were harsh and well directed, though, and Auum was not convinced he could rely on the Al-Arynaar to stand if it came to a fight.
The Beethan iad held up her hands for quiet and her mob bellowed for order. She glared at Auum across the table.
‘You have a strength of arms that will give us all great heart when the humans attack,’ said Auum. ‘Welcome.’
‘Save your breath, TaiGethen,’ she said, her tone strident, her voice powerful and confident. ‘I am Jysune and I thank you for ridding this hall of the Tuali and for removing Calen’s head. But your assumption of command in this city is premature. Your every footstep is trespass on my territory. Your every word is spoken to an elf indebted to me.
Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen Page 27