‘That surprises you, does it?’
‘Not at all.’
‘So enlighten me. Help me see the light of your wondrous plan.’
Garan stared down at Sildaan, his aggression barely suppressed. Hithuur wondered for a moment who would win in a single combat. Sildaan was fast and slick with a blade. All the priests were though few chose to carry a weapon. And she had good open-hand skills. Better than Hithuur’s certainly. But she was no TaiGethen. She didn’t demonstrate the poise, agility or sheer speed of reaction.
Garan on the other hand was simply raw power. He’d find Sildaan surprisingly strong, but Hithuur could imagine that long sword in both of his hands and wondered if any elf could really deflect a well-aimed blow. It would be fascinating to find out. Hithuur wasn’t at all sure he knew who he would want to win.
Sildaan pointed into the rainforest and then began walking again, Garan a pace to her left and eyeing her from beneath a heavy frown.
‘Out there are three thousand and more ordinary Ynissul. Most of them have lived in the city ever since they arrived here or were born here. And those that lived in the forest have come to live here for a reason. These are not TaiGethen material. They are pampered iads and ulas who understand a roof over their heads, a mattress on which to lie and a hot meal whenever they choose to eat it, having brought all their lovely fresh food from the market.
‘Imagine them now. They’ve been brutalised by other threads in the city. Beaten, raped. And they are the ones not murdered in the temple. Now they’re being forced to run into the rainforest. There’s danger in every branch and beneath every step. There’s only leaves to shelter them when it rains, and for most a ground covered with crawling and biting insects and reptiles when they sleep, if sleep they can.
‘They won’t get enough to eat. Thirty TaiGethen cannot feed three thousand. They won’t be able to drink until a pure stream is crossed. They left with nothing. A few clothes. The odd book. They are so underprepared it makes you look like a fifty-year veteran of the canopy.
‘And, when they get to their sanctuaries, they’ll find a few huts, an open fire and a whole lot of elves who don’t want to be forced to look after them. They’ll be fed roots, berries and monkeys. Given creaking hammocks. What a life, eh?
‘So when I go to offer them the hand of friendship… One of their own, come to bring them back home, having cleared their city and ensured that none of those who hurt them will do anything more than grovel and serve them from here on in, who do you think they will follow? The TaiGethen, who will despise them for their weakness and lack of faith? Or me and Llyron and Hithuur? Elves who understand them and their true desires. Elves who can offer them a better life than the one they were forced to flee?
‘The mathematics are not complex, are they, Garan?’
Hithuur had watched Garan’s face unknot slowly and an expression bordering on admiration replace his earlier belligerence.
‘And meanwhile, those Ynissul who might oppose you are out of the way and the TaiGethen are kept very busy indeed.’
‘Now you’re getting it,’ said Sildaan, and she allowed herself a small smile. ‘I told you I knew the elven mind, but I have to admit even I did not think it would all work as perfectly as it has so far. Pelyn serving herself up has been an unexpected bonus.’
‘And what will this mighty warrior decide, do you think?’ asked Garan.
Sildaan’s hackles rose immediately. ‘She could kill you very easily, Garan. Don’t mistake her frame for weakness. Takaar didn’t choose her to lead the Al-Arynaar for nothing.’
‘I meant no offence.’
‘But in answer to your question, I think it might be fun to drop in on Shorth on our way to the harbour and find out, don’t you? What would you do?’
‘Take my chances with Llyron, I think.’
‘I thought so. I suspect Pelyn will not be so craven. Want to make a wager?’
‘With one who knows the elven mind so well? I think not.’ ‘You know, I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or not,’ said Llyron. ‘I commend your beliefs and your courage. And I will of course pray for your souls, which will undoubtedly find mercy and warmth in the arms of Shorth. I just think it’s all a bit of a waste.’
Pelyn said nothing. She, Methian and Jakyn had said all they had to in the depths of the night. They had prayed, made plans and spoken the words that needed speaking. Now there was nothing left but silence and a chance to wonder a little at Llyron, whose tone suggested they’d merely decided not to attend a minor function.
The three of them lay on the floor of the hall, just in the shadow of the doors. They had been stripped naked and then sewn into their cloaks such that only their faces were visible inside their hoods. Ropes had then been wound around them to ensure there would be no escape.
‘It used to be called “podding”, you know,’ said Llyron. ‘I looked it up last night. The guilty elf was taken into the forest and left lying on the floor much like a seed pod fallen from a tree. Usually, it was the ants that got to work first. Beetles, leeches and flies too, of course. Biting lizards. Snakes were always fun, and then, inevitably, when the scent of blood and fear soaked the air, the panthers and dogs and monkeys would appear.
‘It was a very imaginative punishment. An able deterrent. Sort of a live reclamation, don’t you think? One I might well reintroduce. Still, the ants and snakes won’t concern you. Just the big sentient predators. Now then. Jakyn. You, I think I will give to the Gyalans. That works. They’re routinely bitter and you’re a strapping young Cefan. Methian, it has to be the Apposans, doesn’t it? Why is it that earth and rain never really got on?
‘Pelyn, it’s the Tuali for you. I understand you slaughtered a few of your own on the harbour yesterday. They are going to be terribly upset with you, don’t you think? I did consider the Beethans, but you know, they wouldn’t even give you begging-for-your-life time. They’d just butcher you on the spot.’
Llyron paused to shake her head at all three of them.
‘I trust you are extremely uncomfortable. Just remember, this is as good as the rest of your lives are going to get. Your carts are waiting for you outside.’
Chapter 20
A general places his army at risk whenever he stops to think again. Each of them was loaded onto a separate ox-drawn cart and propped in a seated position. Before long, the carts containing Methian and Jakyn peeled away to their destination ghettos. Senior priests were in attendance. Pelyn continued down towards the Park of Tual, where the thread gathered before setting out to raid other parts of the city.
Pelyn supposed she should have been flattered. The grand red carriage carrying Llyron led her cart. The banners, the guard of Senserii and the instantly recognisable figure of Llyron drew two things like flies to a fresh corpse. Deference from every thread and an ever-growing crowd of curious onlookers, some clearly putting their differences aside to find out what was going on.
Public drives by the high priest of Shorth were rare in the extreme. The death of the high priest of Yniss, under normal circumstances, and the Festival of Departed Souls were the only ceremonial appearances. She could of course be seen at the Gardaryn during debates but the myth and aura surrounding Shorth’s high priest was the most enduring of the elven psyche.
Iads and ulas walked along behind Pelyn’s cart. It wasn’t long before the more curious moved closer to try and work out who she was and why she was trussed so comprehensively. It was a short step from there to the first volleys of spitting, abuse and threats. Of course they had no idea what faced Pelyn, but her lack of anxiety in the face of their promises only served to further enrage the more determined.
The Senserii and walking priests made no move to deflect the abuse. Indeed they made space for those who wished to get close and only moved to stop the regular attempts to do her physical harm.
From within her pod, Pelyn had plenty of time to stare out at the naked hatred and see their decision for the folly it truly was. After an emotional conversation with Methian and Jakyn, they had convinced each other that they would cow the baying mobs that faced them with reason and reality.