James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

Auum blinked, making sure he had seen it right. Every man had dropped from his saddle, leaving the horses to slow naturally. There was a mist of blood in the air. Several severed arms thudded to the ground, thumping dully into the mud and grass to land among the sliced parts of skulls and whole heads that had pattered down.

Auum shook his head and turned back to the woodland and the advancing foot soldiers.

‘Tais to me,’ he called.

The TaiGethen gathered around him. Ahead of them the enemy had halted, perhaps not understanding what they had seen but knowing for certain that they had just witnessed forty cavalry on galloping horses slaughtered by elven warriors and magic.

‘Spread out and advance,’ said Auum.

In front of them were more than three hundred men and mages, and there were more in the shadows. Auum could see some of them looking past his warriors to the rise. Auum glanced behind him and saw the Il-Aryn moving up, flanked by more TaiGethen. There were Julatsan mages shadowing them from the air.

Outnumbered by ten to one and more, the TaiGethen had no realistic chance, but the humans had lost the stomach for the fight, for now at least. They had lost their cavalry cover and, worse, they could see Julatsan riders rounding up their horses, no doubt to use against them.

On a word from their commander, they melted back into the forest.

‘That’ll do,’ said Auum. ‘Let’s go.’

Kerela was uncomfortable under Communion with anyone from Xetesk, but Bynaar was a particularly difficult contact. She had agreed to take the communication only because Sipharec was unwell and confined to his bed.

‘You have done well,’ said Bynaar, pausing very slightly before his last word. ‘You harboured hidden strengths, I understand.’

Something about his mind, or the way he delivered his thoughts, made her squirm where she sat in a deep chair in her chambers.

‘It pays to build relationships. The elves of Calaius were always likely to help us when they heard Balaia was in trouble.’

‘I had no idea they were so altruistic,’ said Bynaar.

‘They understand the threat the Wytch Lords pose to us all,’ said Kerela.

‘Yes. .’ Bynaar paused. ‘Your native elven magic. . It is an unusual style. I would be fascinated to read the lore one day, or have one of your practitioners explain some of the finer points to me.’

‘I can imagine they’ll be falling all over themselves to be the chosen one,’ said Kerela.

‘I should imagine,’ said Bynaar, her sarcasm going straight over his head.

Kerela scratched at an itch on her abdomen; it was another symptom of Communion.

‘You were about to brief me on the progress of the war,’ said Kerela.

There was another pause.

‘Understone Pass is holding firm even though the Wytch Lords bring more of their power to bear every day. We have reports of Wesman parties all across Balaia, mostly scouting, but they do damage by their very presence, and none of us has the spare capacity to send out hunters, do we?’

‘We do not.’

‘Tell me, Kerela, how sure are you of successfully holding off another Wesman assault?’

‘Alone, you mean?’ she asked sharply.

‘We are fully committed both at home and at the pass,’ blustered Bynaar. ‘Your tone is not appreciated.’

‘Neither was your lack of support. It was lucky the TaiGethen came when they did.’

‘Quite. But they are gone now, are they not?’

‘Heading to the pass to join the fight, yes. Just as we promised.’

‘Good. . good. So, your strength in Julatsa, is it enough without them?’

‘Our walls are being repaired; we can invest strength back in them, and we still have a considerable force of mages and militia. But should the Wesmen come again in greater numbers, we would be tested. Why, do you have information?’

Another pause, this one so long that Kerela wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

‘We grow ever more concerned that the invasion will change its focus and our coastlines will be beset. You are at most immediate risk if that happens. Our information is patchy but it points to you needing to stay where you are and keep your college safe while we try to stave off anything that comes at us from the south in addition to defending the pass. Difficult days, Kerela.’

‘Surely they will bypass you if they can and head straight for the Manse? I always wondered why those who attacked us didn’t simply go there and make it their own.’

‘That is why we must be mindful of such an attack,’ said Bynaar. ‘Remember how much the Wytch Lords want Dawnthief. The Wesmen are never happier when than trying to destroy magic, no?’

She could imagine him chuckling to himself about that one.

‘You have been in recent contact with your team at the Manse, I take it?’

‘My dear lady, it is a daily occurrence, as you must know,’ he said a little too quickly.

‘Then you know of the problems we have had contacting our own representatives there. Lystern have the same issues. Strange that your people are still communicating when ours cannot.’

His silence was cold. ‘Your implication is beneath contempt.’

‘Then prove to me that they are still at the Manse. Still alive.’

‘I would not lower myself to do any such thing. Your team, your problem.’

‘And there I was thinking we were all working together. Last time we spoke to our people, they felt close to a breakthrough. Funny how we heard nothing more, isn’t it?’

‘It is not something I can explain, nor feel duty bound to investigate. Now is that all?’

‘No, it is not. You told me our Il-Aryn had an unusual style. How could you possibly know that all the way from Xetesk?’

‘Don’t be naive. It is no concern of mine that you have no people embedded here. We have not made the same error. Give my regards to Sipharec. May he recover quickly.’

The contact was broken and Kerela’s relief was instant and wonderful. She drank off a goblet of heavy red wine.

‘Lying bastard,’ she said.

There was a knock on her door.

‘Yes?’ she called. One of the Communion chamber mages poked her head around the door. ‘Yniss bless you, Syvra, you look tired. What is it? Bynaar has gone, if you wanted him.’

‘No, but thank you. I’ll pass that on. We have another who wants to speak to you rather urgently. Can I give him permission to Commune with you?’

‘Who is he and is he one of ours?’

‘Yes, and he would not give his name. His lore is Julatsan, he is genuine.’

‘Then yes, have him contact me.’

Kerela settled back in her chair, awaiting the intrusion of Communion contact. When it came, all her growing suspicions were realised.

It was Stein.

Auum couldn’t muster any anger, consumed as he was by an overwhelming sadness. He had looked about him once the survivor group had got as far up into the foothills as they could for the day and had shaken his head at the truly pitiful band they had become.

Forty-three TaiGethen were still able to fight, plus a further seven seriously wounded, burned or with limbs broken or blown off entirely. At least four of them would not survive, even with castings. Seventy-eight Il-Aryn had survived but fourteen carried injuries and eight of those were unlikely to survive. The Julatsan cavalry was entirely gone, barring one young man whom Auum was delighted to see smile: Tilman. He had burns on his face and hands but he was not broken, and castings would heal him. Finally, just twenty-nine Julatsan-trained elves were walking. Another twelve were alive but struggling. Most of them would die.