James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

‘All right, but-’

‘No more. That knowledge goes no further.’

‘Understood.’

Auum smiled into his hood, seeing Stein champing at the bit for more.

‘Time you explained what I can see on your coastline.’

Stein stared into the darkness and sighed. ‘Well, I suppose I can hazard a few guesses, although I can’t see too much. Dead ahead is Triverne Inlet, where we can find safe landing. The lights you can see to your left are the town of Jaden. The mountains stretching away from you to the right are the Blackthorne Mountains, which run the whole breadth of Balaia. Our legends say two land masses were thrown together by angry gods and mountains cast up where they collided. It’s as good an explanation as any.

‘To the west, the Wesmen have their lands and live under the thrall of the Wytch Lords. To the east are the lands of man: beautiful, green, lush and welcoming. Just a pity we can’t stop squabbling about who owns what. It’ll take us a couple of days to reach Julatsa when we land.’

The flotilla of longboats rowed into the inlet a short while later with Stein directing them to a shore of mud and pebbles on the eastern side. Auum felt the grating of the keel and the boat rocked left and came to a halt. He stood, feet on the wood, and stared at the ground before him.

‘Yniss forgive us for what we do,’ he said and stepped onto foreign soil for the first time in all his thousands of years of life.

Other boats hit the beach and elves spilled out. Kit was moved fast onto shoulders, and Stein led them up a sharp rise. Cresting it, Balaia was laid out before them in the stark colours of night. Auum took a deep breath, tasting the scents of grass, flowers and animals with the pervading odour of man covering everything.

In the immediate landscape there was little but grass growing on gentle rolling rises that led away to the south and east. There were isolated stands of trees and the occasional group of buildings of human design but not a great deal else. Auum could see the lights of Jaden and the mass of buildings that made up the town. Julatsa was too distant to see, but the smoke and dust smudging the night sky almost directly south gave away the besieged city’s location.

But the dominant feature was the Blackthorne Mountains, which rose from the far side of the inlet where the land met the sea. They grew steep and impenetrable and fled away south, great sentinels of rock capped in white, dividing east from west in the most spectacular manner.

It was an extraordinary natural feature, and either side of it two peoples had grown to be such entrenched enemies that, if Stein was to be believed, only the extermination of one would satisfy the other. Or perhaps it was just humans who desired the extermination of any challenge to their assumptions of authority and ownership.

Auum looked around at his people gathered on the rise and staring out at the new land. A hundred and five TaiGethen, a hundred and thirty Il-Aryn, twelve Senserii and Takaar stood with their backs to the chill wind blowing off the mountains.

‘We need a place out of the wind to rest and eat,’ said Auum. ‘Are these buildings I can see inhabited?’

‘I’m not an expert on every farmstead, Auum,’ said Stein. ‘But I doubt there’s anyone there at the moment. A significant Wesman force landed in the inlet for the siege, and I guess most isolated farms got burned out. Any smart farmer will have run to Jaden, which so far, has been left alone.’

‘Let’s start there,’ said Auum, turning to face his people. ‘A short walk and we hope to find a place to rest and eat. This place feels strange and smells stranger. Look to your brothers, sisters and your gods for strength. Faleen, Merrat, Grafyrre, take your cells and scout the route. We’ll follow on. TaiGethen will walk the flanks and secure our rear. Il-Aryn, look to Drech for your orders but stay within the warrior corridor. Let’s move.’

Every step into the belly of Balaia hunched the elves’ shoulders a little more. The TaiGethen were the worst affected. The sky was vast and the star field glittered down untainted by cloud or canopy. There was no cover and no prospect of cover. On board a ship an elf could go below, but here there was no hiding.

They’d come upon the trail left by the Wesmen on their way to Julatsa shortly after leaving the inlet. A churned path through the grass consisting of wheel ruts, boot and hoof prints was spread with debris. It was about ten days old and Stein had not liked the scouts’ answer when he’d asked how many might have marched along it.

They were sitting at the farmstead now, or what was left of it. The Wesmen had killed those they’d found, torched it and taken any livestock. The elves had moved three bodies and laid them downwind for reclamation, tucked under some low hardy bushes. The ground was charred to bare earth, and though the fires had not taken all of the stone walls down, there was no roof on any of the buildings. No cover.

Auum had set a perimeter, placed guards at key points and brought everyone else in to rest as best they could. Fires had been lit and food prepared. Many were asleep, but Auum sat with a few of his closest. Stein was with them, a welcome guest and proving himself of good humour when tested.

‘Admit it, it is always this cold, isn’t it?’ said Merrat.

‘No, it isn’t.’ Stein glanced to the heavens. ‘But this is autumn and the wind can be chilly. You should come here in summer and see the land then. Covered in colour, crops swaying in the warm breeze, the leaves on the trees green and-’

‘You have trees?’ asked Marack, her voice breathless, her expression one of wide-eyed surprise.

‘Yes,’ said Stein carefully.

‘Do you put them away at night, perhaps?’ suggested Grafyrre.

Stein smiled. ‘No, they’re a little big for that.’

‘But perhaps you can count them all quickly, on account of there being so few of them,’ said Grafyrre.

Stein laughed. ‘Yes. It’s something I do on a daily basis.’

‘When you’re done counting to eight, what do you do for the rest of the day?’ asked Ulysan.

‘Get my axe and cut one down to make the job easier tomorrow,’ said Stein.

The elves roared with laughter. Auum clapped his hands. Takaar, who was seated surrounded by his Senserii like some visiting dignitary in hostile lands, turned his head for long enough to look down his nose at them.

‘Very good,’ said Auum, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. ‘Since you know all about trees, how many are there between here and Julatsa?’

Stein raised his eyebrows. ‘There’s not much of anything between here and Julatsa. Just loads of those beautiful rolling hills then a good deal of flat open ground. Even you can’t get to the enemy unnoticed.’

‘We’ll find a way,’ said Auum.

‘What do they want?’ asked Faleen.

‘Who? The Wesmen or the Wytch Lords?’

‘Whoever,’ she said. ‘Why are they at the walls of Julatsa?’

‘There’s a short answer and a slightly longer answer,’ said Stein.

‘And they’re different?’

Auum looked around his group, seeing them hanging on Stein’s every word. That was a first in elven history. Auum had to remind himself that Stein was an exception among humans.

‘Actually, yes. Will you indulge me?’

Auum smiled. ‘I think you have everyone’s attention for now.’

‘But don’t get boring,’ said Ulysan. ‘No history lectures.’