Takaar’s shoulders drooped.
‘It’s as if you can’t hear him at all,’ he chided. ‘And perhaps you can’t hear me either. I said, we’ll need to bring some poisons I’ve been working on. Some of the better burn salves too. So I’ll be needing your help.’
What cascaded through Auum then fell nothing short of pure joy.
‘You’re coming!’ he said, the sound of his voice setting animals to flight in the nearby brush.
‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
Auum nodded. ‘Of course, of course. Thank you. The whole elven race will thank you.’
‘Hardly,’ said Takaar. ‘And you just need to give it up. I am not going to throw myself from the cliffs. I have dreamed up another and more satisfying way to die. Care to join us?’
‘I…’ began Auum before realising to whom Takaar was speaking.
‘You know this has nothing to do with redemption or regaining my position or anything. You’ve known me ten years and you still don’t realise I don’t care for such things.’
Auum paused before speaking, waiting for clarification. None appeared forthcoming. Takaar strode away to his hut and began selecting various pots. The conversation was clearly over.
‘Could I ask why you are doing this?’
Takaar stared at Auum. It was disconcerting. It unpicked him from the inside out. Takaar thrust some pots and a net bag fashioned from old strong liana at him.
‘Pack these. I’ll explain how they work on the way.’ He moved to his hammock and picked up a cloth-covered bundle. He unwrapped it, exposing back scabbards. One still retained its blade. ‘It should be obvious why I am going. It’s because he said that I would lack the courage to do so.’
Auum was having trouble getting used to the constant raising and deflating of his hopes.
‘Not for your brothers and sisters? Not for Katyett?’
Takaar snorted. ‘Hardly. I have worked out these years gone that I know nothing. But I am irritated that my life’s work is being undone. And I am most certainly selfish enough, and brave enough, though he would say otherwise, to see it un-undone.’
It would have to do. Auum set about making the camp tidy and checking his meagre gear. He found Takaar staring at him again when he was about to kick earth over the fire.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Readying to leave,’ said Auum.
‘Don’t be in such a rush.’
‘But-’
‘There is food to eat and no elf should set about a task with an empty stomach. No elf should decide to eat on the move when there is comfort to be had. Sit. We shall eat. And then I shall show you the best way to pack our meat, the raw and the cooked, to keep it at its best. Then we shall leave.’
Auum shrugged his shoulders, blew out his cheeks and sat down.
Chapter 24
There is no easier enemy than the intransigent general on indefensible ground. The clothes were too big and made of a cloth far finer than Pelyn had ever worn. They were for an ula too and had space in all the wrong places. There was no armour. She slung her cloak about her shoulders and grimaced at the ruin that had been made of it. At least the sword on her hip was sharp – Tulan’s second blade, and he always kept his edges keen.
‘What do we do?’ asked Ephran.
He was staring out of the upstairs window at the fires that completely encircled the harbour. Salt and Sail Maker were ablaze street by street. The Park of Tual was in the path of the human advance. Already, hundreds of Cefans and Orrans had fled their ghetto, not caring that they were running into enemy territory. Most had been chased off, away towards the Glade, to the Gardaryn and the Chambers quarter.
The more persistent, those urging the Tualis to flee before it was too late, were beaten. Worse, some had been strung up against trees in the old Tuali ritual execution of tua-mossa. Sliced and spit, was the common slang. Pelyn had watched desperate elves pleading to be heard. The only response was evisceration followed by a spear driven up through the body.
‘Still glad you deserted the Al-Arynaar, my brothers?’ asked Pelyn.
Both had the decency to remain silent.
There was no organisation. Just this pointless, hideous and brutal defence of small pockets of Ysundeneth by the disparate threads. Llyron and Sildaan had been relying on just that. The Tualis still couldn’t see what was coming, though every fire, every casting must have screamed at them to run. Their misplaced belief in the traitor Helias was about to cost them very dear. They were waiting for orders but hadn’t worked out that when he came back he’d be bringing hundreds of men with him.
‘We have to find what’s left of the Al-Arynaar. But I’ve got business to attend to on the way to the barracks, if there’s anything left of it.’
‘We’re with you,’ said Tulan.
‘Forgive me if I don’t turn my back on you just yet.’
‘We had to protect our own,’ said Ephran quietly.
‘Dammit, that’s just what you haven’t done, isn’t it?’ Pelyn stalked towards him. ‘We all had our doubts but those of us with any strength knew that the only thing, the only thing that mattered was preservation of the harmony. Look what you’ve done. You’ve turned Tualis into ravening animals prepared to murder those they prayed with two days ago. And I have no doubt that elsewhere in this city Tualis are suffering the same fate. Congratulations on sticking a sword in the gut of the elven race.’
The two of them were staring at her with the pained expression of a wronged child.
‘What? You thought I’d fall over myself to bring you back to the bosom of the Al-Arynaar? Let’s get something straight so we don’t misunderstand each other out there on the burning streets. You two are deserters. The fact you saved my life means you have enough sense and decency to know you’ve made a big mistake. But I can’t trust you like brothers, can I? I can’t simply forget what you did. Nor what other deserters have done. So it’s up to you. Stand with me and try to win this fight and we’ll see where we are when it’s done. Or run into the rainforest now and throw yourselves on the mercy of Tual’s denizens, the Silent and the TaiGethen.’
Tulan nodded. ‘I don’t think we’ll be running.’
Pelyn smiled. ‘Good. I thought not. Now let’s go. Tell me where the Apposans have made their stand. I’m guessing south side. Probably at the Grans or maybe Old Millers.’
‘Creatures of habit,’ said Tulan. ‘Why them?’
‘Methian was podded and given to them.’
Tulan hissed in a breath. ‘Pelyn…’
‘I know. But I have to try.’
‘We’ll go out the back. Avoid the Tuali mob.’
‘We do need them,’ said Pelyn. ‘Whoever survives. It doesn’t matter what they would have done to me. Not for now.’
Tulan nodded. ‘But first things first, right?’
‘Right. And put on your cloaks, though Yniss knows you don’t deserve to wear them. I don’t want us looking like a Tuali snatch squad or whatever the hell you’ve been playing at.’
They trotted down the stairs and out of a rear door, across a small private garden and through a back gate into a narrow alley. Tulan led. Ephran followed. Pelyn kept them both where she could see them. The sun was rising and hot but the sky was burnished with the foul colours of human magical fire mixed with the yellow of burning wood. The stench of ash was heavy in the air.
Away from the immediate fighting, the city was strangely silent. The streets were deserted. Thread mobs were keeping their heads down. The majority, the shocked civilians wanting no part of it, would be in their homes – those that still had them. Or hiding wherever their thread was strongest, forced to seek refuge among those they despised for their actions.
Pelyn sighed as she ran. It was so hard to see how there could be any resolution to this that would hold. You could glue a smashed pot back together but the cracks would always be visible, the pieces always prone to fall apart.
The Grans was a densely populated area, favourite of forest workers and home to a warren of houses and winding streets as well as logging yards and a few construction businesses. The Apposans, followers of the oldest earth god, had always been the largest-represented thread there and had a long history of excellence in farming the forest and working the wood.