James Barclay - Rise of the TaiGethen

‘Good to see you up and about,’ said Lysael, holding out the walking stick.

‘Thank you,’ said Auum.

He took the stick and tested his weight on it. It looked old. It was carved from dark pine and had a pommel moulded to a polished ball by the caress of countless hands. Auum’s fingers closed on it, feeling a roughness at his fingertips which was all that remained of the carvings of birds and trees that had once adorned the pommel but were now confined to the neck.

‘Come with me,’ said Lysael. ‘Onelle and the TaiGethen are outside. It’s the Feast of Renewal today. Are you hungry?’

Auum paused in mid-stride. ‘That’s not possible. The feast is three days away.’

Lysael laughed. ‘There are some things that I’m good at, as High Priestess of Yniss. One of them is knowing the dates of all my god’s festivals. Trust me on this.’

Auum’s heart began beating faster.

‘I can’t have been unconscious that long,’ he whispered.

Lysael didn’t respond. The pair of them walked beneath the temple dome. Auum’s stick gave a hollow clack against the stone which echoed into the ceiling high above. With each step he tested his injured ankle a little more. The strapping was effective, stalling any lateral movement, but whether he used heel or toe he could feel the weakness and tenderness in the joint, musculature and ligaments.

The smell of cooking fires was wafting into the dome. Auum’s stomach growled and he began salivating. Tapir, jao deer and hare were on the spit. Vegetable and herb stews were steaming away. Fruit soups added a glorious sweetness to the mix and the scent of fresh-baked bread completed the image of the feast. Auum hurried on as best he could, and out into bright sunlight. Gyal had blessed this feast day; it looked as if the rain would hold off for some hours.

The apron was busy, not least with TaiGethen warriors seated on cushions surrounding a host of plates of food. The cook fires were all away to the right at the edge of the stone. Temple workers buzzed and flitted around them carrying ingredients, cutting meat and serving.

Auum moved towards his people, counting them as he came. Forty-four had joined the feast. Including him, he had fifteen cells at his disposal, leaving only three cells out in the field. Merrat and Grafyrre’s cells were both tracking the Ysundeneth army, and the fact that he couldn’t see Corsaar probably meant the veteran cell leader was collecting information about other human forces in the forest.

Ulysan saw Auum approach and stood, motioning them all to do the same. The TaiGethen held their cups out to Auum and bowed their heads in the traditional greeting, awaiting his permission to sup.

‘Gyal fills our rivers and the forest provides our roots. The skills Yniss bestowed on the elves brings the joy of taste to our mouths and freedom for our minds. Drink, lest Ix steal your spirit.’

‘For Auum. For the Arch. For the TaiGethen. For the forest.’

The salute given, they drank and retook their seats. Auum sat with Lysael in a space made between Ulysan and Onelle. He chose water rather than spirits and filled his plate with jao dressed with fruit soup. It looked lovely but he couldn’t eat, not just yet.

‘What happened, Ulysan?’

Ulysan set down his cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘You finally lost consciousness as we reached the temple, though in truth you were incoherent for the last half of the run here. We thought you’d simply lost more blood than we’d thought but we couldn’t find any wound deep enough. It was Onelle who actually saved your life.’

Onelle was blushing before his gaze was upon her.

‘I am for ever indebted to you.’

‘Don’t be so stupid,’ said Onelle. ‘After all, if I said that after every time a TaiGethen saved my life, I’d still be catching up now. You do killing; I do fixing. All for the same god.’

‘Using the Il-Aryn?’

Onelle smiled and gave a small shrug. ‘It is a pity to ignore a skill when it can genuinely help. And you needed help, Auum. The impact that dislocated your shoulder broke a rib, and that rib pierced you inside. You were slowly bleeding to death. I could stem that bleeding and straighten the rib.

‘The Il-Aryn saved your life.’

Auum didn’t know why but the knowledge made him intensely uncomfortable. He scratched at his ribcage up by his shoulder as if doing so could dislodge the magic Onelle had used.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’ asked Onelle.

‘Yniss blessed you with an ability that has allowed you to prolong my work here on Calaius.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ said Onelle. ‘But don’t let it worry you. You’ll get used to the idea one day. You all will.’

Auum inclined his head and returned his attention to Ulysan while Lysael and Onelle fell into a conversation of their own. He gestured for Ulysan to speak.

‘I’m sorry, Auum. There didn’t seem to be another choice.’

‘I will address it in my prayers,’ said Auum. ‘What of the enemy?’

Ulysan searched Auum’s face for blame but he didn’t find any.

‘They continue to advance along the river. They are ignoring this temple, and make no search for Loshaaren or the Ynissul. There is a certainty in their route and I fear they know something.’

Auum saw his train of thought and it was bleak indeed.

‘They cannot know the way, can they?’

‘All reason says not, and Onelle will tell you that no mage could possibly have the range to fly over Katura Falls…’

‘Yet they’ve surely received some information. Why else would they ignore Aryndeneth?’

‘We have found no other answer that makes sense.’

‘Katura is in no state to defend herself against such an army,’ said Auum.

‘Katura’s people are in no state to feed and clothe themselves, let alone fight,’ said Lysael. ‘How long since you’ve been there?’

Auum shrugged. ‘Fifty years at least. There seemed no reason to go back once the last of the Ynissul had been persuaded to leave. Pelyn was in control, growing the Al-Arynaar. I know things have been more difficult of late but-’

‘You have neglected them for far too long,’ said Lysael. ‘Nothing is left of the place and the people you remember, not even hope.’

‘I cannot be everywhere,’ said Auum quietly. ‘I must trust others. I trusted Pelyn. Was I mistaken?’

Lysael let her gaze drop to her plate. ‘When we are alone and our prayers are not answered, we may all fall prey to temptation.’

‘Where are the watchers? Why did no one tell me?’

‘Because there are those within Katura who have no wish for the TaiGethen to know what is going on,’ said Lysael.

She couldn’t look at him and that scared Auum more than anything else he had seen or heard since the humans had invaded the rainforest.

‘But you could have,’ said Auum gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘You and I speak whenever we are here or Loshaaren. We have no secrets.’

When Lysael turned her face back to him there were tears running down her cheeks. Auum was aware that conversation around the feast had quietened.

‘I have failed in my duties.’ Lysael’s voice was a cracked whisper. ‘The temple to Ynissul lies dormant. No priest resides there now. I have not been back for almost ten years.’

‘Why not?’ asked Auum, unsure how to feel about her revelation.

‘Because the last time I was there, I feared for my life.’

Silence bled out from the TaiGethen and enveloped the cooks and servants. Auum swallowed hard. He took his hand from Lysael’s shoulder lest his fury caused his fingers to tighten. Here, on the apron of the elves’ most sacred place, where Yniss gazed down unfailingly and his embrace kept all from harm, his high priestess had been forced to reveal such a fear.