Llyron nodded. ‘Much work for Shorth to do. And interesting experiments in anarchy and a chasm in leadership giving rise to a clutching at any new hope by ordinary elves.’
‘You sound like a textbook,’ said Garan.
His mouth was full of food and a large wooden cup of wine was in his hand. Keller moved with him like his shadow.
‘I am a student of history,’ said Llyron evenly, moving away fractionally towards her three Senserii. ‘I am also a student of warfare. Perhaps you could tell me how it is that you plan to keep this city as quiet as it currently is and, perhaps more importantly, how you intend to deal with our TaiGethen problem.’
Garan smiled. ‘Both are, of course, inextricably linked. We expect and are ready for attacks by the TaiGethen at any time. We’ve been caught out once today but my people will shortly begin to lay magic-based traps and set up observation posts to warn of incoming enemies.
‘I have had personal experience of exactly how skilled these Ynissul are. So don’t worry that I’m being naive. But they have no defence against magical attack, and their numbers are small.
‘We will kill from long range any who approach or enter the city. We will continually seek out their hiding places and kill them where they rest. And we will do the same with any remaining Al-Arynaar siding with them.
‘As to the city, well, removal of the TaiGethen threat will serve to dampen any hope your somewhat reluctant subjects have of a turnaround in their fortunes. Even so, I have a little over five hundred swordsmen, archers and mages at my disposal. Not enough to maintain the peace if there is a concerted effort to rebel. Certainly not enough to help subdue populations in other cities.’
‘And so?’ said Llyron, shooting a sharp glance at Sildaan.
‘We had the budget for the numbers we have and no more,’ said Sildaan.
‘Or your negotiation skills are not as honed as you led me to believe,’ said Llyron.
Garan cleared his throat. ‘I have to defend Sildaan here. Her price is ruinous, her bargaining severe. I would not have agreed had it not been for other factors.’
‘Which include?’ pressed Llyron. ‘And will this answer our security question?’
‘Yes, in a manner of speaking. Your money is only one way of paying a mercenary. To the man who sees it, the treasure is his when its owner no longer controls it. So my men are happy enough, and I think you expect that. But we need more men or the job will not be completed. So more are coming. Quite a lot more.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Sildaan. ‘There is no agreement for this.’
‘No, but it is happening anyway.’
‘And there is no budget either.’
Garan laughed but his eyes were cold. ‘Like I said, to the man who sees it, the treasure is his when its owner no longer controls it.’ The city was almost silent but for the violence flaring between the multiple threads locked together in the harbour master’s warehouse. The guards outside did nothing to stop any trouble inside. Little did they care. Moving into full night, the sounds echoed out over the harbour, beyond the walls and out across the Ocean of Gyaam.
Katyett, Merrat and Grafyrre had scouted the harbour quarter and approaches. The area had been all but burned out barring key buildings occupied by the humans. Few could see what the TaiGethen could see from their perch on the roof of the warehouse. Even fewer could do anything about it.
‘Should we not free all these beneath our feet? Cause some mayhem at the very least.’
‘Not tonight, Graf. We have some brief time. Releasing them now would not achieve what we want. Most would be recaptured before the real problem hits, and that helps no one. And the humans would be alerted to the fact that their perimeter security is poor. We need to pick ourselves a time between now and the moment the humans burn this place to the ground.’
‘When will that be, Katyett?’
Katyett stared out into the ocean. The moonlight was strong but she didn’t really need it to see. A lot of sails were coming. Fifty at least. Perhaps two thousand more men from the north with their muscle and their magic.
‘The wind has backed. It’s offshore now and likely to remain so for days,’ said Katyett. ‘They’ll be in the harbour in two days, maybe three. It is then that captives like all those beneath us will become mere irritation. Make no mistake. Men have come here to conquer.’
‘So what now?’ asked Merrat.
‘Now we go and do some damage to a guard post or two and relate what we’ve seen to Pelyn. But more than all of that, we pray Takaar is not dead and that when he arrives, he has all the answers.’
Chapter 30
A more numerous enemy is wasteful and complacent. There is nothing to be despised more than waste. Takaar’s unpredictable state had led them to rush. To ignore just one of the central rules of travelling the rainforest at speed. So basic and so important. Look where you are treading. Auum did not and he stepped on a branch which moved beneath him. Serrin did not and the branch snapped under him.
The Silent Priest’s weight was thrown forward but his left leg was trapped in a mesh of undergrowth and root. He twisted as he fell, his knee wrenching sideways, his calf and foot locked in place for a heartbeat too long. His cry was akin to the howl of one of Tual’s denizens in distress. He tumbled partway down a rise, sliding to a stop, screaming once again before regaining control of himself.
When Takaar and Auum reached him, he was sitting up. Serrin’s breathing was deliberate, deep and slow. His eyes were closed and his mouth was moving, his words of prayer private. His hands were on his knee, probing gently. He winced with almost every touch.
Auum felt an immediate relief that there was no obvious break. The leg was not twisted; there were no lumps beneath the skin indicative of broken bone pressing against the surface. But the damage was obviously severe enough. Swelling had already begun all around the joint. Tendon, ligament, muscle – all would have been torn. It only remained a question of how much delay the injury meant to their journey.
Takaar was already burrowing into the fisherman’s bag. The stench of previous contents would attract scavengers from all directions. He fetched out a large pot, untied the lid and scooped a soft green paste onto his fingers.
‘Escobilla,’ he said by way of explanation and began to rub it gently into the knee. Serrin sighed as the salve penetrated his skin. ‘Normally best as a tea you can use to bathe wounds, but you know that already. I’ve found you can make a paste with careful reduction and endless pounding of leaves. Works better. Gets to the pain faster and it’s better at reducing swelling.’
‘It works,’ managed Serrin. ‘Leave it with me.’
‘Sorry, my priest. Nice try but we’re not leaving you here,’ said Auum. ‘You can’t run and you can’t fight. Every predator within five miles will have heard your pain. We’ll make you a crutch or a stretcher.’
‘No time,’ said Serrin.
‘A TaiGethen may not leave the helpless to die,’ said Auum.
‘O paradox,’ said Takaar, his expression mischievous and gleeful. ‘Leave him helpless to die or delay your journey to our people and so consign how many more of the helpless to death?’
‘The Silent are friends of Tual’s denizens.’ Serrin gasped a breath as he dared to move his damaged leg. ‘I will be safe.’
Auum had heard the stories. Silent Priests defended from attack by panthers. Snakes that didn’t inject venom when they struck. Scorpions relaxing their tails. He didn’t believe them but it was hard not to be swayed by the sheer force of Serrin’s faith.
‘Strap him to immobilise the knee. Make him a crutch and we must go,’ said Takaar. ‘He knows. Others’ needs are greater than his.’
Auum stared at Takaar, hating his perverse enjoyment of the situation.
‘Look at me,’ said Serrin.
Auum hesitated, knowing what Serrin was about to say. But he didn’t make the Silent Priest repeat himself.
‘You know he’s right, don’t you?’ said Serrin.
The forest seemed to have quietened around them and Serrin’s quiet voice sounded over-loud in Auum’s ears.