James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

‘Those of you who are confident enough to walk, do so slowly and try to butt your toes against the ice ridges you find as often as you can. Do not lean back as you are more likely to fall and slide. Carry at least one knife in your hand, one in each if you have them. Should you fall, dig the blades in to stop you sliding. Don’t trust to anything else. You’ll gain speed fast and there is no fence at the bottom.

‘Those of you who do not wish to walk, sit with your legs forward and move yourself with hands and feet. Again, knives in hands. If you have no knife, ask a TaiGethen. Stop when you’re told to and wait to be lifted from the shelf. Do not be tempted to look over the edge. If you think it’s difficult here, it is far harder down there by the precipice.

‘Take your time. We have all day. Any questions?’

There were none.

‘One more thing: the TaiGethen will walk behind the rest of you,’ said Auum. There were murmurs of dissent and Auum held up his hands. ‘I know how it sounds but think about it. From behind we can see you slip and slide and we can get to you and help you stop. Ahead of you, we will not see you go, only know you have fallen. Which way carries the greater risk to you and us? Yniss is with us. And now we pray.’

Auum was surprised to feel more fear on the slow, slippery walk than he had on either of the far more dangerous climbs they had undertaken. Ulysan, walking by him with knives clutched tightly in his hands, was staring at his allotted Il-Aryn with a fierce fervour.

Auum didn’t blame Ulysan for the way he was dealing with the trauma he’d suffered yesterday, but he needed his friend back and he felt helpless to make it happen. He had said Ulysan needn’t have any Il-Aryn to watch but he had refused. Auum prayed none of them fell.

They made steady progress. The wind blowing up the slope was helping keep the pace slow and giving people the confidence to lean forward over their feet as they walked. About half the Il-Aryn and mages had chosen to walk, and while a few had slipped and fallen early on, there had been no panic and confidence was growing gently and quietly.

Two thirds of the way to the edge, Merrat came over, moving fast, his feet sliding across the ice in gentle sweeps. Stein, who with Tilman was walking next to Auum, clapped his hands.

‘Now in my country we call that ice skating,’ he said.

Merrat dug in the sides of his feet and came to a walk by Auum.

‘We should have ice on Calaius,’ he said.

‘I can live without it,’ said Auum. ‘Is there something on your mind?’

‘Are your people being watched by others?’ asked Ulysan.

‘By Graf and Merke, my friend.’

‘Good.’

Ulysan nodded and returned to his staring. Auum shook his head but kept his words to himself.

‘What is it?’ he asked Merrat instead.

‘We’re all so concerned with getting off the mountain that we haven’t spoken about what comes next. Which way will we go? Who will we try to find? We’re about to be afforded the best view of the Wesman lands we’re going to get. Let’s not waste it, that’s all.’

‘Ulysan, you coming?’ asked Auum.

Ulysan shook his head. ‘Someone has to stop them if they slip. Someone has to be there to grab their hands.’

‘I understand,’ said Auum. ‘Stein, we need you. Come on, Merrat, this is your idea. . and no skating.’

A short while later the three of them sat near the edge of the dizzying drop down to the Wesman lands, feet braced against ice ridges and knives in hand just in case. The ground below appeared full of jagged rock spears pointing up to impale them as they descended. Beyond them the ground was less wild but remained doggedly rugged, dominated by mountains and high hills in the distance and shot through by an overwhelming bleakness.

Smoke rose from the fires of several small settlements perhaps a day’s walk from the base of the mountains, and smudges in the air further afield represented the smoke and dust of larger towns, perhaps even a city. Auum could see goats and cattle roaming the hills searching for grass and roots, but the mass movements of armies he had half expected to see were absent.

‘So, Stein, what do I need to know?’ he asked.

‘All right, a few main features for you. I’ll start with Parve, the seat of Wytch Lord power. It’s almost straight ahead, way to the west of us. You might be able to see a dual line of low peaks. The Baravale Valley passes between them and points to Parve.’

‘I can see the smoke of the city,’ said Auum.

Stein looked round. ‘Your eyes are really that good, are they?’

‘Yes,’ said Auum. ‘What else?’

‘Wytch Lord influence radiates out from Parve, but on the western coast there is plenty of resistance. That’s too far for us to go. Do you see the lake backed by mountains to the south of Baravale? Of course you do. Well, that’s Sky Lake and the Garan Mountains.’

‘Garan?’ asked Auum. ‘That’s. .?’

Stein smiled. ‘Oh yes, of course, the army commander who became Ystormun’s pet experiment in immortality.’

‘Takaar said Ystormun was trying to make an elf out of Garan. He was the first human that didn’t deserve to die.’ Stein shuffled back half a pace from the edge. ‘Your ancestor was the second.’

‘Anyway, moving on.’ Stein cleared his throat. ‘The further east you come, the more open the tribal lords are to us, though it’s a relative thing. They still hate us but they will trade with us. There’s a settlement at Sky Lake and two or three further south where you might be heard.’

‘Do you have any particular names in mind?’

‘Well, there’s Gorsu, whose tribe occupies the lands nearer Baravale, but he’s bent the knee despite his avowed hatred of his masters. There are others. . Kiriak in the south but he’s weak, Lantruq of course and perhaps Sentaya. He’s a vicious bastard and quite likely dead by now.’

‘Why?’ asked Merrat.

‘The Wytch Lords aren’t keen on dissension. Reportedly his shamen have access to the Wytch Lord fire but, last we knew, he was refusing to take his people from the fields and arm them.’

‘We’ll try him,’ said Auum.

‘I don’t know. I’d have gone for Lantruq. Strong leader, plenty of warriors and shamen still under his control.’

‘Where are his lands?’ asked Merrat.

‘You see the tree-covered hills south of Sky Lake? He’s there.’

‘He’s where we go after this Sentaya,’ said Auum. ‘I want to make a statement to Ystormun. Show him we can take his power from him. Kill his shamen if they won’t turn from him. Then we get Lantruq and we have a real force behind us.’

‘It won’t be that simple,’ said Stein. ‘What can you promise either of them?

‘An end to the Wytch Lords and freedom for their people.’

‘Oh come on, Auum, you can’t promise that. No one can.’

Auum stared at Stein. ‘I have beaten them once. I can do it again.’

‘Yes, you defeated one Wytch Lord a long way from the base of his power, with the help of considerable magical talent.’

‘And with us are more mages, Il-Aryn and greater talent.’

‘Auum, you don’t understand. You can’t beat Ystormun or any Wytch Lord from a distance. My ancestor trapped him in a ring of magic and even then all he could do was diminish him. He isn’t going to travel to Sky Lake; he’ll just turn his shamen on us.’

‘When he knows I am here, he will come.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘I’m counting on it. And when one is killed — or diminished — the word will spread and the Wesmen will turn. The alliance with Xetesk will fall and we will have an end to this war. Then I can go home.’

Stein was smiling and shaking his head simultaneously.