James Barclay - Rise of the TaiGethen

‘Well you look really jittery, if that helps,’ said Jeral, walking over to him.

‘Not in the least.’ Hynd indicated they leave the column and he sat with his back to a tree, ignoring the dampness which spread through the seat of his trousers. Jeral squatted next to him. ‘Funny, isn’t it? When we started this march, I’d have cleared this whole space before sitting down and looked up until my neck hurt to make sure no snakes or spiders were going to drop on my head. Now look at me.’

‘Yeah, you’re a man the Sharps look up to now. But never mind that. Spill. What’s the big news that’s got you so twitchy?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Sure you can.’

‘I’ve got orders.’

‘Yes,’ said Jeral. ‘From me. So what did the old skeleton tell you? Whatever it was, those morons in charge must have reacted badly to it if you’re anything to go by. Come on. I’m not your captain; I’m your friend. The one who clears up your vomit, remember?’

‘I can’t tell you,’ said Hynd. He was fidgeting and couldn’t stop himself. He nodded back towards the command post. ‘Orders from a higher authority. He wants me to wait for him, so you might hear something from him.’

‘Something major, though, right?’

‘Right.’

They didn’t have to wait long. With a stride that indicated his anger, Lockesh marched out of the command post, barking at soldiers to get out of his path. He beckoned Hynd and Jeral to him with a curt gesture and carried on walking, moving further from the column and out towards the pickets, whose firelight was bright in the deepening gloom.

‘Those utter idiots,’ he muttered. ‘Right, Hynd. They think I am ordering you to try to commune with Ystormun again, to get clarification. Never mind that Ystormun chooses when to conduct Communion; their ignorance suits us for now. You and I will concoct a conversation over a bowl of whatever revolting broth is on the go.

‘Jeral… You’ve told the good captain nothing, I presume?’

‘No, he bloody hasn’t said a thing,’ said Jeral.

‘Just as well.’ Lockesh was silent for a moment. Hynd felt him constructing a spell shape and then casting with a circling of his right index finger in front of his face. ‘Right. Jeral, I am going to entrust you with knowledge that, should it become public, will bring about your immediate, untimely and extremely painful death. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Good. Ystormun has sent word that the Sundering might happen earlier than expected but given us no exact time for it. Suffice to say it could happen at any time and there is unlikely to be any warning that it is coming. You understand the difficulties that will cause, I take it?’

‘Hynd has explained it to me before, my lord.’

‘I’m sure he has,’ said Lockesh. ‘Sadly, whatever he told you was no idle speculation. As you can imagine, the prospect of losing all magical support has left our glorious leaders running in little circles of panic and bluster. It is also, already, leading them to make all sorts of rash decisions about our plan of attack that will be the death of us all.

‘You’ve heard the mages’ reports about the position of the city and its angles of approach. Soon you will have more information about its defensive capabilities. I need you to start developing tactics that can be effectively deployed assuming you have no magical resources at all on which to draw. And I also want plans for defending helpless mages from marauding TaiGethen. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, protecting me is far more important than invading any city.

‘Work with Hynd on this. Develop plans which include very limited spell possibilities too… basic shields, walls and so on, perhaps — simple and quick castings. Just in case, you understand.’

Lockesh stopped and turned to face them both. Hynd should have been afraid but for some reason he felt a thrill that he shared with Jeral. From the certainty of failure had leapt the possibility of success, as long as his friend was in charge.

‘The one piece of good news is that you, Jeral, are off their hit list for now. They need every capable soldier they can muster. Nonetheless, Hynd, you must not slacken in your efforts to keep him alive.

‘The potential of a Sundering is going to make the generals rush in when they should wait and watch. They will attempt to seize victory in far too short a space of time and in doing so will make mistakes the enormity of which will be studied by students of war for generations to come. When those orders are given, you need to be ready to step in, Captain Jeral. If your stock is as high as I think it is, men will follow you rather than their orders, although that situation might not come about in an instant.’ Lockesh licked his lips. ‘And I will back you too, when the moment is right.’

Hynd flinched. That was something he had thought never to hear. He swapped glances with Jeral. For once there was no quick riposte waiting. Jeral understood the situation.

‘Thank you, my lord,’ he said.

‘Trust no one. Tell no one,’ said Lockesh. ‘We risk much by doing this, should we have to, but we risk even more by not being prepared when the time comes. Do not fail me. I will not die here. Not for you and certainly not for our useless trio of quill-wavers.’

‘I won’t let you down.’

Lockesh nodded and his face relaxed. For the first time he displayed concern for those whose lives he risked alongside his.

‘Look, Jeral. I’m asking a great deal of you, and even if we succeed here your future will be uncertain. I can protect you from some things but not from the machinations of the army. When we get home, they’ll either promote you or they’ll execute you.’

‘Some choice, eh?’ said Jeral and a smile touched his lips.

Lockesh nodded. ‘Welcome to the world of Triverne politics.’

There is nothing beyond the Claw.

Serrin of the ClawBound

Auum was gone for three days, and in that time, while he wouldn’t say he came to understand Takaar, he did regain some small measure of respect for him.

Auum had watched Takaar go before returning to the city. Leaving the eaves of the forest, he saw and heard the work going on, and while he was lifted by the industry, he knew in his heart that it could never be enough. He saw Ulysan near the city gates and trotted past teams of elves digging pits on the open ground, past Pelyn drilling a fledgling militia in defensive sword moves and others practising with bows, spears, staves and pretty much any other weapon they could find.

Auum stepped aside to let carts carrying fruit, game, vegetables and herbs into the city, but his heart sank when he looked at the walls. The metal plating was fractured and thin. Stones, some cemented, some laid dry, had been hammered into place to augment the metal and protect the vulnerable wood. The covering, such as it was, only stretched across a third of the walls, and so far there was nothing to protect them from an attack across the open ground to the west.

Ulysan was directing another piece of riveted plate into position.

‘Ulysan,’ said Auum. ‘Bless you for all you have done. I’m sorry I was gone so long. And thank you for checking on me.’

Ulysan enveloped him in a bear hug, eventually pushing him back to look into his face.

‘A TaiGethen is never alone. You chose an unlikely partner for your prayers,’ he said. ‘Are you strong?’

Auum put a hand to his chest and felt his throat tighten. ‘Elyss and our baby are safe here with me for now. Grief will have to wait. Tell me where we stand.’

‘In all but one area, we are ahead of where we need to be. Unfortunately, that one area is the wall. We have neither the raw materials nor the skills to forge enough plate to cover the walls as you wanted. We have been to every building in the city and into the mines as well. Everything we have is waiting for the smiths’ forges and hammers. They work day and night. There is no rest for anyone.