James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

Auum rushed forward. In the press of shamen battling for their lives against the blurring TaiGethen he didn’t see the knife blade that tore into his left arm, redoubling the pain. The blow rocked him sideways. Instinct took over. Auum kicked out to the side and high, feeling his boot connect with a face. Simultaneously, he threw his blade. It spun end over end and buried itself to the hilt in the shaman’s chest, splintering his bone necklace.

Auum dropped to the ground, on his haunches again. A dagger blade whipped over his head. He turned quickly, dragging a jaqrui from its pouch and flicking it out and up, seeing the blade lodge deep in the thigh of his target. Behind him a scream split the air. Auum forced himself back to his feet to grab back his blade. In front of him a shaman stood for a moment, confusion on his face while his brain dribbled from his split skull.

Ulysan was at his side. Auum felt himself picked up and rushed back in the direction of the city walls. He saw other TaiGethen bodies smouldering on the ground but the shamen were gone, massacred.

Harild’s cavalry galloped past, sending Wesmen to their deaths or running blindly away. Spells crashed down from the mages sent to the back of the enemy lines. Drech and his Il-Aryn moved back onto the battlefield, creating a safe corridor against further black fire.

Ulysan slowed, giving them a sight of the battlefield before they ducked back through the barriers. Wesmen were gathering in defence to their left. Ahead of the gates, the enemy were gone. Bodies crowded the ground. There was cheering from the walls. TaiGethen moved across the area, helping the wounded away and carrying the bodies of their dead.

The cavalry made one more sweep and galloped back through the gates. Through his misted eyes Auum could see more shamen moving up behind their warrior guards. The taunting had ceased. They had landed a significant blow but Auum counted seven TaiGethen bodies being carried away. Too many. If they were to break the siege, they needed to adapt their tactics.

‘Come on, let’s get you seen to,’ said Ulysan.

Auum looked into his face. He was bleeding from a cut to his cheek but his eyes were alive with excitement. ‘You seem to make a habit of carrying me bleeding from battlefields.’

‘Well I did it once seven hundred years ago. That’s hardly statistically significant.’

‘It hurts,’ said Auum.

‘Looks like it.’

Ulysan supported Auum, and the two old friends moved as quickly as they could back within the barrier and on into the city. Auum waited until the last of the elves was back and Harild ordered the gates closed. The cavalry had already trotted away to their stables, leaving the big open space behind the gates full of victorious but grieving elves.

‘Get the wounded back to the college,’ said Auum. ‘We need them treated and ready for the next strike. Pray for your friends who have fallen. Drech, your Il-Aryn should rest. Your work was exemplary, thank you.’

Drech walked over to Auum, waving his people back towards the gates.‘We’ll meet at dusk in the refectory. Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It appears you are not quite as fast as you think you are.’

‘Not now,’ breathed Ulysan.

Auum felt himself tense and his arm begin to ache horribly. He leaned on Ulysan to turn himself. There was Takaar, striding up to them with his Senserii in close attendance. Drech watched him come with suspicion and weary anxiety written all over his face. The remaining TaiGethen looked on, but Auum held up a hand to put them at ease.

‘We’ve cleared a path for you. Best you leave now before the Wesmen close it again. It’s a good few days’ walk to Korina. Cleress has been in contact with her sisters and they’re expecting you. Gilderon, the quartermaster of the city will find you travel rations.’

‘I only seek to help and yet you snub me at every turn,’ said Takaar, appearing genuinely hurt. ‘I could have saved you from that wound. And it looks bad. I can treat it.’

‘Touch me and I’ll break your arm,’ said Auum. ‘You tried to kill Stein on the way here and you tried to kill Drech last night. You’re like a child, but you have dreadful powers and you’re prepared to use them on anyone, even those who try to help you. You are not the elf you believe yourself to be and you never will be again.’

Takaar nodded and put his hands over his face. His shoulders began to shake and his body shuddered with sobs. When he looked back at Auum, tears streaked his face and his eyes were imploring and full of contrition.

‘I know and I am sorry,’ he said, sniffing hard and breathing deeply to calm himself. ‘Drech, I cannot forgive myself, but I hope you can forgive me. Auum, all I ask is a chance to prove myself. I can turn the Wytch Lord fire against the shamen who cast it. I’ve worked out how. Let me show you.’

‘Be careful,’ whispered Ulysan.

Auum had been teetering on the verge of reaching out to Takaar, so genuinely sorry the elf appeared to be, but drew back.

‘You’ve had so many chances and occasionally you have done something truly remarkable. But the next time you blink, that voice in your head tells you to walk another path and I cannot risk that, not here. This is hostile territory and I have no confidence in you.’

Takaar’s eyes narrowed just a little.

‘I must be given another chance. You cannot be victorious without me. I. Am. Takaar.’ He looked briefly to his right. ‘There. Did I say that right?’

‘Go back to the ships,’ said Auum. ‘Pass your wisdom to the Il-Aryn through the sisters. Rest and recover.’

‘I do not need to recover!’ screamed Takaar. ‘I need to be here. Without me you’ll all die.’

‘I’m prepared to take that chance.’

‘I am not!’

Takaar’s eyes darkened. He stretched his arm towards Drech, who gasped and struggled. Takaar opened his fist and Drech shuddered once, violently, and made a strangled noise in his throat. His eyes flooded with blood and exploded, showering steaming red droplets across Takaar’s face and the cobbled street. Blood coursed from Drech’s ears, his skull collapsed and he crumpled to the ground.

‘Now you need me!’ shouted Takaar, his face covered in gore and his eyes glittering with euphoria. ‘Now I am indispensable! Now I alone control the Il-Aryn!’

Auum felt nausea clog his throat.

‘Murderer!’

Auum couldn’t move but Ulysan did. The big TaiGethen pounced, bearing Takaar backwards onto the ground, snatching a jaqrui from his pouch and holding it against Takaar’s throat. Takaar keened like an injured animal, begging to be set free, and Gilderon pressed an ikari blade to Ulysan’s temple as the Senserii came to the ready. All around Auum, TaiGethen drew their blades in response.

‘Release him,’ said Gilderon. A trickle of blood ran from Ulysan’s temple.

‘Auum?’

Auum walked forward staring into Gilderon’s eyes. Twenty TaiGethen moved with him. Silence spread as the work of the city surrounding them ceased.

‘Back off, Gilderon. Harm him and the Senserii die right here and right now.’

Gilderon glowered. He did not move his ikari.

‘You are not capable of taking me,’ he said. ‘Call Ulysan off or I will kill him.’

‘Auum?’

‘Stay where you are. Gilderon knows you can kill Takaar before he can twitch. Don’t you, Gilderon?’

‘I do not need you, Auum,’ said Takaar. ‘Drech is gone; that is my gift to you. He would have undermined you. But I won’t. I will go because you need me out in the field. We must find Dawnthief. Bring it into our bosoms and make it the weapon that defeats the Wytch Lords.’

‘Time for you to keep your mouth shut,’ said Auum. ‘Your life is forfeit, murderer.’