James Barclay - Rise of the TaiGethen

‘And so we shall take the rainforest and in doing so shall end the resistance — the existence, I should say — of the elven race. Do you want to watch the extinction of your race? I can offer you a prime seat.’

‘You cannot possibly believe you can defeat the TaiGethen in their own forest. Human blood will run in our rivers and you will never find our hidden city. Not even I know where it is.’

‘It’s called Katura and I am sure you know exactly where it is, Sildaan, but don’t worry, I won’t torture you in an attempt to find out. I don’t need to. I have someone who will lead us straight there.’

Sildaan had to steady herself against the side of the desk.

‘No elf would betray our people in such a way.’

‘No? Well, I suppose you are well placed to make such a judgement. And as it happens, you still retain your exalted position as betrayer-in-chief. This elf has no knowledge of the damage he is going to do his people. And the really pleasing thing is that he is one of your most fervent, most spectacularly faithful, people. He is possessed of talents not even he can fathom and is determined to use anything he can to the benefit of the elves.

‘Unfortunately he doesn’t realise that the focus of mana within his body is stronger than the scent of blood in the River Ix. He reeks of it, exudes it and can do nothing to hide it. And we, my dear Sildaan, could use it to follow him through the very bowels of the earth.

‘You really ought to come along and watch the show.’

The rainforest is so utterly vast it is truly difficult for the mind to comprehend. Fly with mages, stand on the highest peak, sail the longest river, and you will achieve some small perspective. The way to truly understand is to walk for day upon unending day in a single direction and after the fiftieth, sixtieth or seventieth day know that you could be only halfway to the other side. Know that you are equally distant from its borders in any other direction. Know that the TaiGethen have trodden every inch of this land and have identified every place in which to kill their enemies. Know that there are an infinite number of such places.

Reminiscences of an Old Soldier, by Garan, sword master of Ysundeneth (retired)

Takaar had run to the eaves of the forest, there to curse his misfortune.

Misfortune? Remember a TaiGethen is never alone.

‘I am no longer TaiGethen and that blade would not enter his neck. Do not ask me why.’

I have no need. Your cowardice rears its head at the most spectacular moments and reduces your strength to that of a dung fly. Oh, the elves must hear of this latest betrayal.

‘You cannot goad me as you once did. And even then I was too strong for you. Did I step from that cliff edge? I did not. You lost this battle decade upon decade ago and still it hurts that you cannot control me.’

I have no desire to control you. Only to see you crawling on your belly like your beloved snakes with the eyes of every true elf upon you, knowing the truth about their erstwhile hero.

‘They already know the truth!’ Takaar’s voice set creatures scurrying deeper into the undergrowth. ‘And they have forgiven me, taken me to their hearts once more and allowed me to work to make them stronger, able to stand proud as men are driven from Calaius.’

Taken you to their hearts, have they? Is that why you run off to Garan the moment something goes wrong? Keener to hear the words of man than of elf when the world darkens?

‘Garan gives more than he takes and this time he has unlocked a secret and opened my eyes. I knew he would turn against Ystormun. I knew he would see man’s invasion for the sacrilege it is.’

‘What has Garan unlocked, exactly?’

Takaar spun as he rose, his twin swords whispering from their sheaths. He counted five, but more were circling him, unseen.

Yniss preserve you, how careless.

Takaar smiled and sheathed his blades.

‘I was expecting you.’

Auum’s expression was bleak. ‘Really? And you always welcome your friends with your blades, do you?’

‘Your approach was quiet, I’ll admit and I was-’

‘Engaged in another conversation. Quite vocally, considering his proximity.’

Takaar heard the whisper of laughter from among the TaiGethen, who were emerging into his small clearing in some numbers. Fifteen of them now.

Don’t let him goad you. He’s goading you, isn’t he?

‘No one is goading me.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Auum, walking closer.

‘I was not addressing you,’ said Takaar sharply.

‘Clearly,’ said Auum. ‘You and I need to talk. In private. Just the three of us.’

Takaar searched Auum’s face for the humour he was sure would be there, but for some reason it was absent. He felt a moment’s confusion.

Idiot. And I thought you’d be used to people insulting you, laughing behind your back, that sort of thing.

‘I do not like your tone,’ hissed Takaar.

Finally.

Auum walked closer. Takaar could smell the camouflage paint. He turned his head slightly and couldn’t stop his hands wringing together.

‘I do not much care whether you like it or not,’ Auum replied. ‘I care that soon Ysundeneth will once again be full of the corpses of innocent elves and their blood will be on the hands of man.’

Takaar chuckled. ‘It’s good that I’m here, isn’t it?’

‘It is never good that you are anywhere near things that matter. Walk with me.’

Auum made a gesture towards his TaiGethen, who scattered into the new growth that had sprung up in the wake of the wholesale logging near Ysundeneth and the Ultan bridge. Only Auum’s cell remained, and he indicated they stay in place before stalking off into the deeper undergrowth to the south.

Do you think he’ll come back if you just stand here?

‘Why would I do that? I am the bearer of all that is important. He needs me.’

Pathetic. You’re like some snivelling servant, so anxious to please your master. Even for you, this is a new low.

Takaar followed Auum. ‘The elves must survive, all else is secondary.’

You mean all else is secondary to justifying your existence to an elf who once idolised you. At least test him. Prove yourself his better in the one thing he holds most dear. That is the minimum if you are to retain any self-worth.

‘I have no need of such proof.’

No? Do you even remember being one of them?

‘Show yourself and I’ll prove I could still be one.’

I’d laugh, but you killed our sense of humour about a hundred and sixty years ago.

‘Why are you plaguing me?’

Because you always seek me out when you need answers.

‘Enough.’

Takaar moved quickly, following Auum’s footsteps. Thirty paces into the thick of the undergrowth, where the lower level of the canopy swooped towards the ground, Auum had stopped and was facing him. There was a look of disappointment mixed with contempt on his face. He knew what was in Takaar’s mind.

‘Don’t do this,’ said Auum. ‘Do not even attempt it. You know, I always found it admirable that even in your madness and solitude, you still practised the art to its highest degree. When I found you, your skills were unparalleled. But now? You do not train and your mind is fogged with thoughts of magic. You are no longer quick enough to test me.’

Takaar said nothing but Auum’s words wormed deep into his heart. He dropped quickly and swept out a foot. He found clear air. Auum landed hard, dropping a knee onto Takaar’s chest, swiping his arms aside with impressive speed and putting a dagger to his throat.

‘I don’t have time for this,’ said Auum. ‘I need a way into the city and unfortunately that means I need your help.’