To his left, the one with the smashed nose was back on his feet and running towards the doors. Not a backward glance at his injured comrades. Hardly a surprise. Auum dropped the blade from his left hand, pulled a jaqrui throwing crescent from his belt pouch, cocked his arm and threw in one smooth motion.
The cruel blade whispered away and buried itself in the back of the mage’s neck. Auum turned. Serrin was hauling himself out of the pool, nodding that he was fine. Auum picked up his blade. The mage he had roundhoused was barely conscious. Auum ensured the next time he opened his eyes it would be in the presence of Shorth. The last survivor stared at his ruined arm, too shocked by pain to be afraid.
Auum stalked over to him. He saw his blade had half-severed the arm and cut deep into the mage’s stomach. Blood was pooling quickly beneath him.
‘Your blood will feed my forest. Your soul will shriek in endless torment. Nothing can save you.’
He turned to run back around the statue after Sildaan and Garan. Serrin stopped him with a curt hand gesture. He indicated the main doors and the two trotted outside.
‘Live today, Auum.’
‘We have to take the head from the beast,’ said Auum.
Serrin carried on running, straight into the rainforest to the right of the stone apron.
‘Assemble the faithful. Then return.’
‘How do we know who they are? Sildaan has betrayed us. Sildaan. Who else?’
Serrin sighed and stopped where they could see the temple but were hidden by the embracing foliage. Auum felt detached. It wasn’t shock at what he’d seen inside the temple, more a cold dread at what they faced. Serrin’s eyes were brimming with tears.
‘We will start with your brothers and sisters.’ Serrin put a hand on Auum’s shoulder and kissed his forehead. ‘You saved my life.’
Auum inclined his head. ‘And I will be here to do so again for as long as you need me at your side.’
‘You are destined for better things than guarding Silent Priests.’
Serrin was frowning and Auum could see his eyes had misted over.
‘We’ll get Aryndeneth back,’ said Auum. ‘We’ll right this wrong. Yniss will not turn from us.’
‘Can’t you feel it, Auum? Everything we believe in. All that we are as elves is at risk. The blood of men is staining the floor of our temple and an Ynissul priest invited them inside. The harmony is failing.’
‘That is an inescapable conclusion.’ Auum’s smile was hollow. ‘Talkative for a Silent Priest, aren’t you?’
‘These are unusual times. And they call for unusual solutions.’
‘Meaning?’
Auum could see Serrin nagging at his lower lip as he wondered whether to say what he wanted to suggest.
‘The threads will tear themselves apart. The elves will be in conflict again. Just like the War of Bloods.’
‘Worse,’ said Auum. ‘This time, we don’t have Takaar to unite us.’
Serrin stared at him. ‘Don’t be so sure.’
Auum almost lost his balance.
‘He will not come. He turned his back ten years ago. We don’t know if he is even still alive.’
But despite his protestations Auum’s heart began to race and something that felt like hope coursed through his body.
‘Do you really believe him dead? Takaar?’ Serrin paused. ‘You have to find him, convince him. I have to take word of what’s happened here back to Ysundeneth, to Jarinn and Katyett. News of your mission too.’
‘I am your shadow. I will not leave you.’
Serrin placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Our paths will cross again soon enough. Do this for me. Bring him towards Ysundeneth. I’ll find you.’
Auum nodded. ‘Where is he?’
‘Verendii Tual,’ said Serrin. ‘He is an ula with more power than he knows but be careful. Ten years of solitude will not have been kind.’
‘This is the plan of a monkey-brain,’ said Auum.
‘In a land being consumed by those with their eyes turned from God, he with a monkey-brain will reign.’
‘That is not in the scriptures.’
‘Not yet,’ said Serrin. ‘Not yet.’
Chapter 7
When you enter battle you are always fighting three enemies at once. Your fear, your foe and his courage. The heat in the Gardaryn was stultifying. The bedlam that had greeted the end of Lorius’s address had gone on and on, with Helias apparently unwilling to bring the chamber to order as protocol demanded. But Jarinn did not look for help or support. He merely waited for the noise to recede.
‘Lorius displays much passion,’ he said eventually.
Katyett waited for the baying of the crowd to begin again but instead they stilled and turned to face him, listening.
‘And he speaks with some measure of truth,’ continued the high priest of Yniss.
‘Look at that,’ breathed Merrat.
‘There’s still hope while they remember they love him,’ said Katyett, and a little warmth stole into her heart.
‘I will not speak for long. I am an old elf, though I might not look it, and standing is tiring.’
The glint in Jarinn’s eyes was picked up by those close to the stage. Laughter broke out and one wag even reminded the high priest of his immortality.
‘Ah but, my friend, though you are right, no Ynissul is impervious to illness, steel or other infirmity. And I can assure you that immortality can seem a curse when one suffers from arthritis.’
A theatrical ‘Ahhh!’ rose from the crowd. Jarinn raised his hands.
‘But I am not here to garner sympathy; I am here to return our people to a state of reason and logic and to avoid a descent into blood.’
The boos and catcalls began again.
‘Well what did you expect – that I would agree with him? Now let me address one of the things he said which worries me deeply. I hear that Ynissul are being inserted into all positions of authority that come available. This is unacceptable. I will consult with Lorius and we will right that balance. I apologise that I was not fully aware before today. Aryndeneth is a distant temple.’
Silence, then thunderous applause.
‘They believe him,’ said Grafyrre.
‘That shouldn’t surprise you,’ said Katyett. ‘Let’s face it: if anyone is trusted to always tell the truth, it is Jarinn.’
‘For the most part, I am not going to respond to High Priest Lorius, an ula that I respect and am proud to call a friend,’ said Jarinn. ‘I will tell you what I believe and you will have to judge whether my beliefs are worthy of today’s harmony. Will you listen to me?’
A few hoots of contempt but in the main a respectful silence fell.
‘Thank you. Here is what Takaar means to us. He means twelve hundred years of peace. He means the War of Bloods is a distant memory. He means a society that embraces all its threads and strives to treat them with equality. Why would you tear that up?
‘Lorius speaks of Takaar’s failure as a catalyst for an Ynissul attempt to return to dominance. He is mistaken. I stand here before you, high priest of Yniss, and I tell you that the Ynissul do not wish for dominance. I do not wish for dominance. All I want to do is serve my god, serve my people and serve our glorious land.
‘If Takaar’s law has taught us anything, it is that we are one. We cannot exist as warring threads. Look how our population has grown during the harmony. Look how all our gods are stronger. Look at how much more we know. Temples bulge with scriptures. Our rainforest provides everything we need to keep our bodies healthy. Working together has brought us comfort of mind and body.
‘Why would you tear that up?’
Jarinn paused. He scanned the crowd, who stared at him, utterly silent now. Jarinn’s voice had a compelling quality to it. He didn’t speak at great volume. He didn’t have to. Katyett knew what each and every ula and iad in the chamber felt. It was like Jarinn was talking to them, and them alone.
‘Takaar ever was an enigma. Most of you here probably never met him, much less saw him in action. A braver elf there has never been, and will never be. Two hundred and more years before any of us travelled here, before Takaar opened the gateway, it was he who saw the path to our salvation. He was the first to openly declare his love for every elf who walked the land under the gaze of our gods. And it was he who cut to the heart of the conflict and made us understand our stupidity.