James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

It was an appalling result; thirty-two TaiGethen dead, murdered by magic; twenty-six Il-Aryn gone in mere instants, helpless against a greater power; thirty-seven Julatsan elves immolated or dismembered by castings they themselves studied but had failed to detect; forty-nine cavalrymen downed by spell or blade.

No one had escaped completely unscathed, and in addition to those who would not last the night there were others who could not survive the journey Auum was planning. That was another reason he was calm; it finally all made some sort of sense. But there were a few loose ends.

Stein and Merrat had been with the Xeteskian mage all the way to this chill, fireless campsite on the banks of a narrow stream that almost certainly fed Triverne Lake. His name, Auum had been told, was Ryol. He was a young man of very average proportions barring his face, which was swollen from his wounds.

He had not been treated unkindly during his captivity. In fact he had not been treated at all. He had his own water and scraps of food, which no one had seen fit to take away, nor had he been spoken to at all other than to find out his name.

Ryol had tried to ask questions about his likely fate and had promised, so Stein said, to tell them anything as long as they didn’t kill him. No one had responded and that silence had worked its way into the core of his will. When Auum finally walked over to question him, he was sitting on a flat rock staring at the water in the dark, seeing it sparkle in the starlight.

Stein translated Auum’s questions and Ryol’s responses.

‘Nyann,’ said Auum. ‘Hassek. Vaart. Iriess. Jerren. Some of them were my friends for thousands of years. They were all on their way to join your people and fight a common enemy. You murdered them without honour. So you will answer my questions truthfully because there is no limit to the pain I can inflict on you in the name of Shorth and I already know you have no stomach for it.’

Ryol shuddered and held up his hands.

‘Just give me a chance to answer. Please.’

‘It is more than you gave my friends,’ said Auum. ‘That must make me merciful. Why would you kill us rather than let us fight with you?’

‘We. . we didn’t need you at the pass.’

‘That is no answer; you should have just sent us where we were needed. Surely the pass is the focal point of the battle?’

Ryol’s eyes gave away his torment as he balanced betrayal against his own imagined pain.

‘We were ordered to attack. The pass is forbidden to you.’

‘To the elves?’ asked Auum. Ryol hesitated and Auum made the connection. ‘No. To anyone from Julatsa?’

Ryol shrugged, unwilling to speak the words. Stein drew in a sharp breath.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ryol.

Auum pounced on him, bearing him to the ground flat on his back and placing a knife to his throat. Ryol whimpered and tried to back away into the stream but Auum held him firmly.

‘Speak. I can bleed you very slowly.’

‘Just rumours,’ said Ryol, his eyes on Stein, seeking mercy. He would find none there. ‘I heard. . I’m just a mage — they don’t tell me anything.’

‘Tell us what you’ve heard.’ Auum did not release the mage but withdrew the knife. ‘Whether you live or die is in your hands.’

He waited while Ryol drew breath, a little colour returning to his cheeks.

‘There was a story that Julatsa was close to getting Dawnthief. Everyone knows the Circle Seven wouldn’t like that, right?’

‘Who are the Circle Seven?’ asked Auum.

‘The rulers of Xetesk,’ said Stein. ‘Not the most pleasant of men.’

‘Continue,’ said Auum.

‘So they decided to take Julatsa out of the race,’ said Ryol. ‘Or so I heard. I mean, this attack does back that up, right? You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘How long have you been here?’ asked Auum.

‘Since before the siege was laid at Julatsa. We had orders to stop any Julatsan force. We knew you were coming — we had word.’

Auum stared into Ryol’s eyes and saw the desperation haunting them. He let the young mage sit up.

‘Don’t as much as twitch,’ said Auum before turning to Stein. ‘What do you think?’

‘Well it explains the loss of contact at the Manse. You?’

‘Why stop there?’ said Auum. ‘It’s just like I said. They want Julatsa gone.’

‘That’s a big step. Killing a team at the Manse is low, but destroying a whole college? A whole city?’ Stein was shaking his head.

Auum turned back to Ryol. ‘Is the battle at Understone Pass really so fierce it takes up all of your forces?’

Ryol smiled and Stein punched him square on his broken nose. Ryol squealed and fell back, clutching his face as fresh blood poured from his nostrils.

‘Funny, is it?’ shouted Stein. ‘Hundreds of my people died because your masters deem us surplus to their requirements! Do you think I’d worry too much at seeing one more Xeteskian perish?’

Auum raised his hands to Stein for calm.

‘What did you just say?’ he asked. Stein translated. Auum nodded. ‘You see, Ryol, I may not hate you but my friend here does. Answer my question or I may not stop him punching you again. And again and again.’

Ryol mumbled, blood dribbling down his face, ‘Seems to me you can stop anyone you choose.’

‘Choice is something I have and you have not. Answer. What’s happening at the pass?’

Auum could see Ryol weighing up how much his answer might cost both him and his college. Auum could respect his loyalty, however strained it was by his current predicament.

‘You’ll let me go? Really?’

Auum shrugged. ‘We should really stake you out with your entrails about you for the beasts to feast on. That’s what would happen on Calaius to one who murdered so many elves. But you. . well, mercy is probably the right course. I can see you did not do this by choice.’

‘I’m sorry so many of your people have died today.’

‘Thank you,’ said Auum. ‘That makes a difference. Now, the pass.’

‘There is no battle there,’ said Ryol in lowered tones. He wiped away the blood dripping from his nose onto his lips. ‘The Wesmen are inside and we are outside. No blow has been struck and no spell cast there for at least fifteen days.’

‘It’s a stand-off?’ asked Auum.

Ryol shook his head, keen to speak now. ‘No, there is an agreement. I don’t know what it means other than that no blood has been spilt in the pass for a long time. Can I go now?’

Auum was looking at Stein. Even as he was translating for Auum, his eyes were widening as if he was receiving some great wisdom.

‘It all makes sense now,’ said Stein. ‘How so many Wesmen could have been at our gates so quickly.’

Stein had to stop. He put a hand to his mouth and sat down on a slab of rock, his feet on the edge of the stream. He stared at Ryol.

‘His college has made a pact with the Wesmen, with the Wytch Lords. Dear Gods burning, we should have listened to you, Auum, though it’s worse than even you think. Xetesk wasn’t just allowing the Wesmen to attack us, the Circle Seven sent them to our gates.’

‘And this is all about Dawnthief?’ asked Auum.

‘What else can it be?’

‘Then why stop at Julatsa? Xetesk has freed the Wesmen and the shamen to attack not just you but the other colleges too. That’ll leave Xetesk and the Wytch Lords in a straight fight — winner takes Dawnthief and Balaia along with it. I told you we were allied to the wrong side.’

‘I’ve got to. . What do you mean by that?’

‘Later,’ said Auum. ‘I think our friend has had enough of our questions.’

Stein nodded vaguely. His hand was trembling when he raised it to scratch his forehead. He looked pale, haunted even.