‘So, Stein, what do I need to know?’ he asked.
‘All right, a few main features for you. I’ll start with Parve, the seat of Wytch Lord power. It’s almost straight ahead, way to the west of us. You might be able to see a dual line of low peaks. The Baravale Valley passes between them and points to Parve.’
‘I can see the smoke of the city,’ said Auum.
Stein looked round. ‘Your eyes are really that good, are they?’
‘Yes,’ said Auum. ‘What else?’
‘Wytch Lord influence radiates out from Parve, but on the western coast there is plenty of resistance. That’s too far for us to go. Do you see the lake backed by mountains to the south of Baravale? Of course you do. Well, that’s Sky Lake and the Garan Mountains.’
‘Garan?’ asked Auum. ‘That’s. .?’
Stein smiled. ‘Oh yes, of course, the army commander who became Ystormun’s pet experiment in immortality.’
‘Takaar said Ystormun was trying to make an elf out of Garan. He was the first human that didn’t deserve to die.’ Stein shuffled back half a pace from the edge. ‘Your ancestor was the second.’
‘Anyway, moving on.’ Stein cleared his throat. ‘The further east you come, the more open the tribal lords are to us, though it’s a relative thing. They still hate us but they will trade with us. There’s a settlement at Sky Lake and two or three further south where you might be heard.’
‘Do you have any particular names in mind?’
‘Well, there’s Gorsu, whose tribe occupies the lands nearer Baravale, but he’s bent the knee despite his avowed hatred of his masters. There are others. . Kiriak in the south but he’s weak, Lantruq of course and perhaps Sentaya. He’s a vicious bastard and quite likely dead by now.’
‘Why?’ asked Merrat.
‘The Wytch Lords aren’t keen on dissension. Reportedly his shamen have access to the Wytch Lord fire but, last we knew, he was refusing to take his people from the fields and arm them.’
‘We’ll try him,’ said Auum.
‘I don’t know. I’d have gone for Lantruq. Strong leader, plenty of warriors and shamen still under his control.’
‘Where are his lands?’ asked Merrat.
‘You see the tree-covered hills south of Sky Lake? He’s there.’
‘He’s where we go after this Sentaya,’ said Auum. ‘I want to make a statement to Ystormun. Show him we can take his power from him. Kill his shamen if they won’t turn from him. Then we get Lantruq and we have a real force behind us.’
‘It won’t be that simple,’ said Stein. ‘What can you promise either of them?
‘An end to the Wytch Lords and freedom for their people.’
‘Oh come on, Auum, you can’t promise that. No one can.’
Auum stared at Stein. ‘I have beaten them once. I can do it again.’
‘Yes, you defeated one Wytch Lord a long way from the base of his power, with the help of considerable magical talent.’
‘And with us are more mages, Il-Aryn and greater talent.’
‘Auum, you don’t understand. You can’t beat Ystormun or any Wytch Lord from a distance. My ancestor trapped him in a ring of magic and even then all he could do was diminish him. He isn’t going to travel to Sky Lake; he’ll just turn his shamen on us.’
‘When he knows I am here, he will come.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
‘I’m counting on it. And when one is killed — or diminished — the word will spread and the Wesmen will turn. The alliance with Xetesk will fall and we will have an end to this war. Then I can go home.’
Stein was smiling and shaking his head simultaneously.
‘There is a wonderful clarity to your mind, isn’t there? It never allows for the possibility of defeat.’
Auum regarded Stein, wondering if he was being mocked. He shrugged.
‘Those who entertain the possibility of defeat will always suffer the reality.’
There was a silence while Stein digested his words.
‘A sound philosophy.’
‘Can you fly in this wind?’ asked Merrat.
‘It’s borderline but I think so. Carrying elves down will help, I think, given the extra weight. We’ll have to-’
‘Spread yourselves on your bellies! Dig, don’t scratch. Do it now!’
Ulysan’s shouts ripped across the calm of the slope. Auum stood and spun round, Merrat with him and Stein rising more carefully. Three had fallen, one having slipped and grabbed the others to steady himself so bringing them all down. They were in an untidy heap rotating slowly and gathering speed on the slope only fifty yards from the drop.
Ulysan was chasing them, bursting through the line of now stationary walkers and shufflers and heading across the slope to try and catch them. Auum’s heart was in his mouth; Ulysan was going too fast. He set off too but Merrat was ahead of him.
‘My people,’ he said. ‘I’ve got this.’
He skated away, his movements fluid and his speed increasing quickly as he moved at an angle to intercept the flailing elven trio, none of whom could drive a knife into the ice to slow their progress.
‘Spread yourselves out!’ called Auum, setting off along the edge, his feet finding purchase hard to come by and the ice ridges cracking under his feet. ‘On your bellies and use those knives!’
Merrat was closing on them fast but they were starting to panic. They were clutching one another rather than fighting their instincts and spreading themselves as wide as they could to gain maximum friction. He saw one knife strike hard into the ice, but the blade snapped and the Il-Aryn shrieked with frustration and fear.
Fifteen yards before they reached the edge of the precipice, Merrat dived full length, catching one of them about the chest.
‘Hang on to each other and spread out!’ he ordered.
Instead they tried climbing over each other to reach him. Merrat stabbed hard at the ice, scoring a trench. The blade shrieked as he pushed harder, slowing them but not enough. Auum ran faster, trusting his feet, whispering a prayer to Tual to keep him upright.
‘Merrat! You have to get your other knife in! You’re going too fast.’
Merrat tried to turn his body. ‘Hold on to my legs, let me free my arm!’
But the Il-Aryn were lost to reason. Two had hold of Merrat and the third was clutching for him, denying him the chance to save them.
‘Let him go!’ roared Auum. He was closing but nowhere near quickly enough. ‘He has to use his other knife! Listen to me!’
The first elf’s feet slipped over the precipice. He wailed and grabbed again and again at the clothing of the others while his momentum carried him further over. It was horribly slow to Auum’s eyes but the end was inevitable.
‘Shove them off!’ cried Auum. ‘Merrat, you have to stop your slide! You’re going over!’
Ulysan thumped down, grabbing Merrat’s knife hand and driving the blade in a little further. He was spreadeagled at right angles to Merrat and his other hand swept down with a desperate force, the knife clutched in it finding a crack and wedging hard.
‘I’ve got you, Merrat,’ said Ulysan. ‘I’ve got you.’
‘Hang on!’ called Merrat as they slowed dramatically.
The two clutching Merrat gripped harder, and the one over the drop swung out lazily, his legs scrabbling at the precipice and his hands knotted in the trouser legs of another. They crunched to a halt. Auum slithered to a stop above them.
‘Nobody move. Hold fast, hold your nerve and you’ll live.’
Marack, Nokhe and Hohan slid down and knelt to haul the Il-Aryn back to safety. Then they moved the elf away, who was sobbing his apologies and thanking Yniss for his rescue.
‘Never mind Yniss, thank Merrat,’ muttered Auum.
He walked past Merrat, reaching down to squeeze his shoulder. The other two Il-Aryn were detached from Merrat, who dragged himself to his knees and brushed the ice from his jacket. Ulysan had rolled onto his back, and Auum knelt in front of him, leaning in to kiss his forehead and eyes.