Chapter 11
The humans call Balaia beautiful. It is covered in coarse grass, has few trees and is blighted by a clutch of ugly cities. It has little colour, even less wildlife and is cold most of the time. Now ask me again why their minds are impenetrable.
Every step into the belly of Balaia hunched the elves’ shoulders a little more. The TaiGethen were the worst affected. The sky was vast and the star field glittered down untainted by cloud or canopy. There was no cover and no prospect of cover. On board a ship an elf could go below, but here there was no hiding.
They’d come upon the trail left by the Wesmen on their way to Julatsa shortly after leaving the inlet. A churned path through the grass consisting of wheel ruts, boot and hoof prints was spread with debris. It was about ten days old and Stein had not liked the scouts’ answer when he’d asked how many might have marched along it.
They were sitting at the farmstead now, or what was left of it. The Wesmen had killed those they’d found, torched it and taken any livestock. The elves had moved three bodies and laid them downwind for reclamation, tucked under some low hardy bushes. The ground was charred to bare earth, and though the fires had not taken all of the stone walls down, there was no roof on any of the buildings. No cover.
Auum had set a perimeter, placed guards at key points and brought everyone else in to rest as best they could. Fires had been lit and food prepared. Many were asleep, but Auum sat with a few of his closest. Stein was with them, a welcome guest and proving himself of good humour when tested.
‘Admit it, it is always this cold, isn’t it?’ said Merrat.
‘No, it isn’t.’ Stein glanced to the heavens. ‘But this is autumn and the wind can be chilly. You should come here in summer and see the land then. Covered in colour, crops swaying in the warm breeze, the leaves on the trees green and-’
‘You have trees?’ asked Marack, her voice breathless, her expression one of wide-eyed surprise.
‘Yes,’ said Stein carefully.
‘Do you put them away at night, perhaps?’ suggested Grafyrre.
Stein smiled. ‘No, they’re a little big for that.’
‘But perhaps you can count them all quickly, on account of there being so few of them,’ said Grafyrre.
Stein laughed. ‘Yes. It’s something I do on a daily basis.’
‘When you’re done counting to eight, what do you do for the rest of the day?’ asked Ulysan.
‘Get my axe and cut one down to make the job easier tomorrow,’ said Stein.
The elves roared with laughter. Auum clapped his hands. Takaar, who was seated surrounded by his Senserii like some visiting dignitary in hostile lands, turned his head for long enough to look down his nose at them.
‘Very good,’ said Auum, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. ‘Since you know all about trees, how many are there between here and Julatsa?’
Stein raised his eyebrows. ‘There’s not much of anything between here and Julatsa. Just loads of those beautiful rolling hills then a good deal of flat open ground. Even you can’t get to the enemy unnoticed.’
‘We’ll find a way,’ said Auum.
‘What do they want?’ asked Faleen.
‘Who? The Wesmen or the Wytch Lords?’
‘Whoever,’ she said. ‘Why are they at the walls of Julatsa?’
‘There’s a short answer and a slightly longer answer,’ said Stein.
‘And they’re different?’
Auum looked around his group, seeing them hanging on Stein’s every word. That was a first in elven history. Auum had to remind himself that Stein was an exception among humans.
‘Actually, yes. Will you indulge me?’
Auum smiled. ‘I think you have everyone’s attention for now.’
‘But don’t get boring,’ said Ulysan. ‘No history lectures.’
‘I’ll do my best. The short answer is: they’re there because the Wytch Lords have ordered them to be there. Very simple and straightforward. But the Wesmen themselves have coveted the eastern lands, my lands, for hundreds if not thousands of years. The other side of the mountains is barren for the most part. The ground is rocky and living is tough.
‘So they want our lands, and I don’t blame them, but what they hate most is our magic. They have none themselves and they see it as the barrier to their victory over the east. The Wesmen have long desired the destruction of human magic, and the Wytch Lords are promising them that. The irony, of course, is that they are merely trading one dominant magic for another.’
‘I don’t think I’m following this,’ said Marack. ‘We’ve already fought these Wesmen and they are brave and organised people. They aren’t savages. Why would they put themselves in the Wytch Lords’ thrall?’
‘At the risk of lecturing, it’s not a choice that the tribal lords would have made. Their belief is in strength of arms and numbers. But there is an uneasy relationship between the tribes and their shamen. The tribes are riven with infighting, and this has been their weakness for as long as anyone can remember. Occasionally a lord will rise with the strength to lead a significant alliance, but for the most part it is the shamen who talk to each other, practise their revolting spirit religion together and seek influence beyond the spheres of their own tribes. They were easy prey for the Wytch Lords and once the shamen were seduced, forcing the Wesmen to fight for them was relatively easy, though not all have bent the knee.’
There was a silence. Auum glanced across at Takaar and knew he was listening too. There was an oddly bright expression on his face, as if he’d had some sort of revelation. Auum suddenly felt just a little bit uneasy and he could see at least Marack and Ulysan were thinking much the same.
‘Seems to me we might be fighting on the wrong side,’ said Auum, keeping a smile firmly on his face. ‘After all, you lot losing your capacity to cast would help us out enormously, don’t you think?’
Stein laughed but he shifted uncomfortably. ‘Want to side with the Wytch Lords, now do you?’
‘No, I want to see each of Ystormun’s bones in the mouth of a separate panther but the Wesmen warriors. . well we seem to have more in common with them than with you, don’t you think?’
Stein frowned, his discomfort gone and his usual confidence returned. ‘How do you work that out?’
‘We’ve both suffered at the hands of human magic. We both find that others amongst us practise magic against our better judgement, and while we grudgingly accept it has occasional benefits, we wish magic remained a rumour.’
Stein nodded. ‘It makes me sad to hear that, but I know why you feel that way.’
‘You have absolutely no idea at all,’ snapped Auum.
‘Forgive me,’ said Stein. ‘Your first experience of magic was of the appalling damage it can do. But there is so much more to magic than that. Your own Il-Aryn display healing, beneficial and defensive qualities that I would die to understand, let alone wield. And Julatsan magic is based on peace, although we fight when we must.
‘I’m sorry your view is tainted. Perhaps I can persuade you otherwise while you’re here.’
‘Good luck with that,’ said Ulysan.
‘As usual, Auum sees only what he wants to see and ignores that which is uncomfortable,’ said Takaar, walking into the firelight.
‘Always the grand entrance, Takaar,’ said Auum, feeling his muscles tighten and his mellow mood slip away. ‘Aren’t you tired from all that talking to yourself?’
Auum felt Ulysan grip his arm and he shook it off.
‘Don’t do this,’ whispered Ulysan. ‘You know he’s trying to goad you.’