James Barclay - Once walked with Gods

Pelyn had her blade at the throat of the elf she’d put down. Her other attackers were covered by warriors needing little more goading to push their blades home. On the face of the one staring up at Katyett there was fear and fury.

‘It has already been a trying day,’ said Katyett. ‘And my sword hand aches.’

‘Let me up,’ he hissed at her.

‘I don’t think so. I remember you from the chamber. And it was the torch in your hand that has burned my Al-Arynaar sister. You’re going nowhere. It’s more a question of whether you choose to die now or rot in the Lanyon. Call off the attack.’

The attack was already over. The speed of the TaiGethen and the intent of the Al-Arynaar had scattered the body and will of the crowd. Anyone dragged along by nothing more than inflamed passion had already run. Those with weapons were backing away. Pelyn waved her warriors to move up slowly, pushing the remains of the crowd further from the temple.

The rain began to pound down so hard it stung the unprotected head. Pelyn turned to check on the condition of her burned Al-Arynaar but her eye was caught by a lone TaiGethen running towards the temple having entered the piazza from the east. His body was fluid and in control but Pelyn could see anguish on his face. It was a moment before she recognised Pakiir. Her heart went cold.

Katyett had seen him too and was running to intercept him. The few remaining in the crowd caught a change in the mood. Pelyn watched Katyett. Saw her arms come out to slow Pakiir and grip his shoulders, trying to calm him. Katyett stiffened, kissed Pakiir’s forehead and brought him into a brief embrace. When she released him, Pakiir ran into the temple and Katyett turned back. Her face was grey. The rain pouring down it serving only to intensify an expression which would have stolen the thunder from the sky.

‘Methian, keep the crowd moving out of the piazza,’ Pelyn said to her captain. ‘Muster back at the temple when you’re done.’

She walked towards Katyett, who had called her Tais to her. As they joined her, they crouched, hands to the earth and heads bowed. Pelyn could hear quiet prayers of melancholy and knew already the magnitude of what had happened.

‘Katyett?’ she asked quietly

Katyett had tears on her face. Pelyn could see them despite the rain.

‘Yniss and Tual have surely turned from us,’ she whispered. ‘Feel Gyal’s tears, feel the anger within them.’

Pelyn was shaking, her breathing fast and her vision tunnelling. ‘What has happened? Please.’

Katyett shook her head. ‘Jarinn and Lorius. Both dead. Murdered by men and traitors. Burned beyond recognition by something the men brought with them, Pelyn.’

Pelyn’s legs had given way and she’d sat down hard, her sword tumbling from her grip to clatter on the stone apron. She put her hands on her face, covering her mouth, eyes and nose. Nausea raged through her. She turned up to the heavens, letting Gyal’s tears drum on the backs of her hands.

She was aware Katyett had knelt by her and of the mourning dirge the TaiGethen were beginning to chant.

‘We cannot keep this news quiet. We have to be ready for what is to come,’ said Katyett. ‘You must warn the Al-Arynaar.’

‘Who are the traitors?’ Pelyn took her hands from her face and looked into Katyett’s eyes.

‘This is not the time.’

‘What will I tell my warriors?’ pushed Pelyn.

‘Men killed our priests. Men backed by an Ynissul,’ said Katyett, the words hard for her to speak.

‘Ynissul killed Lorius,’ said Pelyn, the sickness deep in her gut and a flash of hate for the temple in front of her impossible to ignore. ‘You know how this will play out.’

‘Ynissul killed Jarinn too.’

‘You and I both know that won’t matter,’ said Pelyn. ‘And Ynissul have brought strangers to these shores.’

‘I know,’ said Katyett. ‘Pelyn, this is a pivotal moment. How the Al-Arynaar react is key. You do understand me?’

Pelyn nodded. Emotions clashed within her. ‘It is difficult.’

‘Then remember what you’re fighting for. What we’ve fought for. You and I have stood shoulder to shoulder. On the walls of Tul-Kenerit we have faced the Garonin. All because we believe in what Takaar gave us. That has not changed. Criminal elements are taking advantage of the denouncement. We have to stand firm and we have to root out and kill those who would murder our most beloved to bring disorder down on the elves. We will hunt down the rogue Ynissul. Starting now.’

‘I want to believe that,’ said Pelyn.

Katyett bridled. ‘I am TaiGethen.’

‘I have warriors who will be seriously conflicted. Tual knows I understand why.’

‘You cannot crack. You cannot falter. Flinch and perish, Pelyn. Remember that. But it won’t just be your death, it’ll be the death of our entire way of life. The waste of a thousand years of effort.’

Pelyn nodded again. ‘What will you do?’

Katyett glanced behind her. Pakiir and a group of healers were running out of the piazza.

‘I must see to Olmaat. He’s still alive and what he has seen is crucial to us. I don’t know what’s next, Pelyn, I really don’t. But no Ynissul will be safe. I am debating taking every Ynissul in Ysundeneth out of the city.’

‘You know the message that will send.’

‘Do I have another choice?’

Pelyn shrugged and climbed to her feet. Her heart was pained and melancholy ached throughout her whole body. The TaiGethen had completed their dirge and had moved to stand behind Katyett. She was helped up.

‘I don’t know, Katyett. All I know is that I am empty inside just as you must be. But you have not lost your priest to another thread. This will spread. How long does it take for news to reach Tolt Anoor or Deneth Barine? How can it not consume us?’

‘Grieve for Lorius. Hate me if it helps. Just don’t turn your back on the harmony. Think, Pelyn. Bring the Al-Arynaar with you or we’re all lost.’

‘I am thinking, Katyett. And I do not know who to trust.’

If you pause to regret a killing blow, you will be explaining your regret to Shorth. Sildaan watched Garan kneel by Haleth and then each mage in turn. She could have told him he was wasting his time. Auum would not have left any of them breathing unless their wounds were mortal. The one he had left alive had lapsed into unconsciousness and was moments from death.

The front of the dome floor was covered in human blood. Ice melted and dripped from the walls and fell like rain from the statue of Yniss. The casting did not appear to have done any damage. Nothing physical. But the effect on the forces which would range against her would be far-reaching.

Sildaan sighed. ‘Perhaps you’ll listen to my advice next time. I will deal with the TaiGethen.’

‘This is dealing with them, is it?’

‘You intervened with your magic. You caused this. You do not know what you have antagonised.’

Garan jerked to his feet. ‘I think you’ll find I know pretty bloody well. That one bastard and his ghost priest killed nineteen of my men. And now he’s slaughtered my second in command and four of my mages before the ice has melted from his hair. So you’ll excuse me if I don’t feel like hearing “I told you so” right now.’

‘You’ve no idea what you’ve done, have you?’ said Sildaan.

‘But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

Sildaan walked towards him. ‘Right now, Auum will be organising a muster of the whole TaiGethen order. And their sole focus will be on ripping out your still-beating heart.’

‘Well it isn’t as if there are that many of them,’ said Garan.

‘Considering just one has managed to kill twenty-four of your finest, there don’t have to be many of them, do there?’ Sildaan wondered if she’d slipped her knife into the wrong ally. ‘And he’s not even the best of them. He’s young and his skills aren’t complete. Think about it.’