James Barclay - Once walked with Gods

His blade snagged the second band. Cut it.

‘I believe that those who supported the Ynissul in their efforts to regain dominion of the elves deserve nothing but the eternal hatred of the thread into which they were born.’

And then to the third band. Cut it.

‘I believe that Takaar’s harmony was a millennium-long sham. An apology for the subjugation of every other thread by the Ynissul and a cloak for its continuance under the murderous iron fist of the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar.’

And so to the final band. Cut.

‘And I believe that those Tualis who would carry Ynissul children are not merely efra. They are unfit for life.’

The mob around Helias howled their agreement. Elves closed in, shutting out the pale light of dawn that had just begun to edge out the night. Helias crouched down next to Pelyn’s head and put his face very close to hers. She could smell the sweat on his clothes and the coarse alcohol on his breath. She was baking hot inside the cloak and Helias’s sour breath wasn’t helping her growing feeling of nausea. She found she wasn’t scared. Frustrated. The only thing she feared was not being allowed to speak. That would be a disaster for all those who stood about her, baying for her blood.

‘I know what you are,’ he hissed into her ear. ‘And I know what you believe I am. But I am not so ignorant. And what you would tell us, I do not wish my brothers and sisters to hear.’

Pelyn could barely focus on his face but she could see the unpleasant grin on it.

‘What?’ he said. ‘You think an ula should not look after himself first? Please.’

‘You always were a snake, Helias.’

‘I can live with it. I can’t say the same for you.’

Pelyn was going to die. The certainty pained her and she let her head fall back to the ground. Helias got to his knees, sheathed his short blade and took out a knife.

‘Let us see, shall we, what is inside this pod. Let us feast on the Al-Arynaar uncloaked.’ Helias’s leered down at her. ‘I know the rules of the pod. And you always hid yourself from me. Such a shame, my pretty. Such a shame.’

Helias drew the knife down the length of her cloak. The stitching sliced easily and her covering fell aside.

Pelyn smiled. ‘Oops,’ she said. ‘You really should be more careful what you expose.’

Pelyn sat up fast and her left fist made an intensely satisfying connection with his chin.

The general you serve cannot save your life in battle. Only those who stand beside you can do that. Takaar felt at his smooth scalp again. There were a few scratches. And his chin. That was smooth too. And now his head was cold. He wondered if his hair would regrow. Meanwhile, he might have to fashion a hat from something. The rain hurt his head when it was very hard. Lucky he had the forest to cover him. It was in the mornings he might suffer though. Out there on the cliff edge. Talking with his tormentor. There the rain could be very hard indeed.

Troubling. All very troubling.

Auum was nearby. Auum would help him. Like he’d helped him shave. Like he was helping him hunt. He was good, this Auum. Very quiet. Very accurate. Had a lot to learn, mind you. And he was very rude. Wouldn’t speak to the tormentor at all when they were in the camp.

Troubling.

And why was he here, that was something else. Takaar feared what he might ask. What he might want of Takaar. Takaar wanted to remain here. Here he could live. Here he could hide.

Here you can wallow in your guilt and make excuses for your continued existence.

‘What are you doing here?’ hissed Takaar. ‘You aren’t invited.’

I go where I please. I watch what I want.

‘Don’t get in the way of the javelin.’

I’ll be right behind you.

Takaar glanced across at Auum, who was all but invisible, crouched by the trunk of a fig tree. Takaar raised his eyebrows and spread his hands. Auum frowned and went to put a finger to his lips. Stopped himself but Takaar saw the gesture anyway. The student teaching the teacher. Time to see how much he really knew.

The jao deer they had been tracking was a tasty prize. Small, quick and well camouflaged it was a night walker, preferring to keep hidden during the day, when the risk of attack from panthers was higher in this part of the forest. Takaar and Auum had tracked it to a bubbling stream fed by a beautiful cascade falling from an ivy-covered crag about forty feet high. The splash pool was small but deep and a favourite of many of Tual’s denizens.

Safe too. Neither panther nor elf killed there. Muddying the poolside with the blood of a kill kept others away for days on end. This time, though, Takaar could indulge in the luxury of flushing the deer towards his hunting partner. Risky. He did not know Auum’s skill with a javelin, and the one he had given the TaiGethen was a little rough and didn’t fly so true. They might go hungry if there was too much Auum didn’t understand.

Takaar indicated to Auum to be ready and set off towards the pool. It was an idyllic sight. The water splashing down, the deer, long elegant neck extended so it could drink its fill. Its ears twitched continually, hunting for any sound of a predator. Takaar, though, was silent. He moved to the edge of the small clearing. The soft brown and red markings on the deer’s flanks rippled as it breathed and swallowed.

Takaar edged slightly to his left. He felt the ground beneath him give slightly and he rocked back. He moved his foot and replaced it. Firm and noiseless. He glanced at Auum. He had not moved. The javelin was still held tip down in his right hand. Takaar wondered if he had understood the plan.

Oh, another disappointment looms.

Takaar did not respond. Something about Auum and the set of his body, the penetrating gaze, suggested competence and confidence in equal measure. So be it. Takaar circled round a little more. The deer raised its head. Its small bob tail flicked a warning. It had sensed but not heard.

Takaar could take it right here. His throw would be unimpeded. Jao deer roasting over a fire would taste sweet. But this was a lesson, was it not? And he had outlined the deer’s movement on the run at some length earlier in the night. Theory over. Practice separated a good ear from a good aim.

Takaar stepped from cover and clapped his hands sharply. The deer looked down the length of its back, startled. It set off. Its first bound high to escape the jaws of a panther. It hit the ground and darted left. Past a single tree it switched right, its agility improbable if described rather than seen. It ran low. Another high bound. Another change of direction.

Auum had cocked and thrown his javelin in the smoothest movement Takaar had ever seen. He did not throw with too much force, keeping his shape compact and holding his follow-through for a heartbeat. The javelin’s flight was flat and fast, the slightly uneven shaft wobbling. The deer switched direction again, twisting its body back on itself and planting its feet to spring.

The javelin struck it at the base of the neck, burrowing deep to pierce its heart. The animal sprawled to the ground, still and dead. Auum moved swiftly from cover to crouch by the deer. Takaar remained where he was. He felt a lightness in his heart that he had not experienced in a long time and never on Calaius.

Auum removed the javelin and propped it against a tree. He picked up the deer and slung it across his shoulders. He retrieved the javelin and looked over at Takaar.

‘Hungry?’ he said and could not keep the smile from his face.

Takaar glanced over his shoulder.

‘Disappointment? Wrong again and another victory for me.’

But it won’t end here, will it? Has he come here to treat with you or to kill you?