Auum turned to his Tai. They, like him, had their light cloaks tight around their bodies but could still feel the cold away from the fire.
'It will warm,' said Auum.
'Small wonder their Gods have forsaken this place and none worship the ancients,' said Duele, warming his hands over the flames.
'You are fit to run?' asked Auum. Both elves nodded. 'And run we will, if only to warm our bodies. But first prayer and food.'
Auum led them in prayers to Yniss and Gyal to keep them safe in the wilderness of Balaia, and to Tual to keep their senses sharp though the rainforest was far away. They did not paint their faces. They did not anticipate combat yet, not for days, and in this land they had to be careful not to waste their paints. Where would they find the materials for more?
'Are we covered for the route?' asked Evunn, biting into a scrawny roasted rabbit.
'Other Tai and ClawBound will track to the south of Greythorne and as far west and north as Understone and the pass beneath the mountains there. Our meet point with the southern trackers is the northern tip of Thornewood. There we can assess enemy strength and plan accordingly. Opportunities to kill are to be taken by any of us. The Al-Arynaar will also meet us there. And, if it is so decided, we will wait for the others. They're three days behind us at present but will travel directly to the meet.'
'And have the ClawBound recovered, do you think?' asked Duele.
Auum blew out his cheeks. 'We pray to Tual to calm their minds but the sea journey was least kind of all to them. But, like us, the feel of the land, whatever land, is like the touch of menispere leaves on a fevered brow.'
They all smiled at that. For a race born to forests and sluggish rivers, the days on the gently rolling ship, lost in the vast openness of the sea, had been purgatory. Below they felt sick, on deck nothing short of scared. And though this land was alien and unpleasant, for the first hours at least it had felt good simply because it was not the sea. Only now, in a new dawn, did they really begin to see where they were.
Auum bade them hurry to ready themselves and the Tai set off at a trot, bows slung on backs, swords and jaqrui sheathed. They moved quickly as the sun gained in strength, repeatedly looking up at its majesty in a blue sky unhindered by the endless but comforting canopy.
With the foothills of the Balan Mountains just ahead and the sun approaching its zenith, Auum slowed suddenly, his Tai responding. They were running through a scrub-filled shallow valley at the base of which a river burbled southwards. Trees flung their branches out across the valley floor and for a few precious moments they could have been back in the forest.
Ahead, through the trees, the valley flattened out and a handful of dwellings were grouped on the level ground. They were poorly constructed as if built in a rush or by those with no skill. Auum could see three people just away from the buildings, kneeling over the body of a fourth.
He nodded left and right and his Tai moved off soundlessly, Auum taking the centre. He had instructed minimal contact with Balaians. Elves could be approached but only because they might understand what was asked of them. Auum could smell fear ahead, and the tone of the voices backed up his instinct.
He crept to the edge of the cover, Duele and Evunn ten yards to either side, and looked out. About twenty yards away, on the bank of the river that now gushed shallow over rocks, the strangers huddled. From the houses he could see bows pointed and at the end of the ramshackle hamlet three men stood with swords drawn, looking away north. Auum concentrated on the scene in front of him, seeing one of the people, a woman, take a bloody cloth to the river and rinse it. On the ground, the injured man lay quite still as the cloth was reapplied to the side of his face.
Auum looked left and right, the nods he received telling him they had seen everything they needed to. He gestured a gentle push with both arms, stood and walked from cover, his hands loose by his sides and clearly visible. They were spotted at once, an urgent shout causing heads to turn and the swordsmen to come running. To his right, Duele was covering the archers. Auum didn't believe they would fire, and given the shaking of the bows in their hands, they were likely to miss if they did.
Auum let the swordsmen come to him and Evunn, who closed in on his left. They grouped ahead loosely, unsure what to do. One of them held up a hand and shouted. Auum stopped and pointed at the stricken man by the water's edge.
'I would help this man,' he said in the hope that one of these strangers understood common elvish. Their blank expressions told him they did not.
The three swordsmen spanned as many generations. Their blades were dull with neglect, their clothing shabby and patched cloth and fur. Auum could see hardship in their eyes and the effects of starvation in the slackness of their stances, their bony hands and hollow cheeks. He moved again and the swords were raised. He thought hard, fighting for the word in Balaian. He had heard one of the strangers on ship say it.
Auum pointed again. 'Help.' His mouth twisted as he pronounced.
The face of one of the men darkened, he mouthed a stream of gibberish and gestured threateningly with his sword. To Auum's right, Duele tensed but immediately relaxed as his leader made a minute movement with his hand. Auum knew he should back away but his decision was made, and unless he was very much mistaken he knew how the injured man had become so. And he was unused to being baulked.
He pointed a third time. 'I, help.' And he made to take a pace left. Immediately, one of the swordsmen stood in his way. His blade moved too close. Auum stepped inside his guard, blocked the sword arm away and smashed the base of his palm into the man's chest, knocking him from his feet. Another of the men moved but Auum's gaze stayed his action.
'Keep an eye,' said Auum to Duele. 'I will see if we were right.'
He walked over to the group around the injured man, ignoring the threatening raised voices.
The instinctive bunching around their fallen comrade loosened as Auum approached the two women and a man. He waved them aside, speaking the word again. Whether they understood him or not was unclear but he certainly scared them enough even though he was still unarmed.
He ignored their worried, angry stares and knelt by the man's head, moving the bloody cloth to reveal a trio of deep gashes torn down the left side of his head. Another set had flashed across his chest but these were not as deep and the bleeding not bad. ClawBound.
He turned to Duele, who stood easily in front of the uncertain swordsmen; the one Auum had knocked down had regained his feet and was rubbing at his chest. Nothing would be broken, he hadn't hit him hard enough.
'The ClawBound's minds are not yet clear,' said Auum. 'The panther has hurt this man but they aren't killing blows, just warnings.'
'These are not from Xetesk, then?'
Auum shook his head. 'They have no magic. Look around. They're barely alive. And scared. You can see how this could happen.'
The TaiGethen had no feelings whatever for these strangers but it was important to sense the mindset of the ClawBound. It gave them a problem. If this was typical, then the peerless trackers would be unpredictable, even a little careless, as had been the case here.
Auum unslung his sack and took out his herb pouches. He broke off some legumia bark, stood and walked away to the fire that burned in the centre of the settlement. Water in a pan bubbled on it and he scooped out a mugful, dropping the legumia into it to soften and infuse. He knew they were all looking at him. They amused him, these strangers who presumed themselves superior to forest-dwelling elves but knew nothing about how to bathe a wound and stop infection at its source. A bloody cloth rinsed in a stream would do more harm than good.