‘In many ways it would be a pity to kill you. Such conflicts within a creature so primitive would be a pleasure to examine at length, after all. But you are dangerous alive. You have… ability. The question is whether your martyrdom would make you more dangerous still?’
Ystormun glanced down at Garan.
‘I know what your answer would be, but I know better than to trust anything you say.’
‘I’m hurt,’ said Garan. ‘But I urge you to keep Takaar alive. Yes, he is my friend, and friendship is a rare beast between our races, but your idea of his influence and popularity is exaggerated. Dead, his memory will gain power. Alive, he does himself more damage every day.’
He really knows you well, doesn’t he?
Takaar swallowed as hard as he could. Ystormun’s grip had not slackened. He weighed up what to say and concluded that silence was his best choice. Ystormun’s eyes bored into him once more.
‘I see. I am aware my men all died in the attack, but what of your
… adepts, Takaar?’
‘Your magic was stronger than ours but not every adept was at the temple,’ said Takaar in the clipped human tongue Garan had taught him. ‘You may consider your action a victory but the full price for it is yet to be exacted.’
Any hint of humour or humanity disappeared from Ystormun’s face.
‘Any reprisals on behalf of your warrior force, such as still exists, will be met with vengeance you can only shudder to consider,’ he said.
Takaar tried to shake his head but Ystormun’s grip made it an impossible gesture.
‘You don’t understand. You attacked Aryndeneth. The temple at the heart of our faith. Now the ClawBound are cleansing the forest. No human may step beneath the canopy again and hope to live.’
Ystormun hissed a fetid breath over Takaar’s face and dragged him from his feet. Takaar began to choke, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Ystormun’s fingers.
‘They will cease or you will all perish. We have only let you live so long as you do not harm us. Do not think we fear you. Not now, not after so long. Especially not now we are so strong.’
Abruptly, Takaar was released. He dropped to a crouch, massaging his throat and gulping in a painful breath. He caught Garan’s eye and the human could do nothing but shake his head in resignation.
‘So the decision is made. You will live for now and you will carry a message to your ClawBound, whoever they are. Their reprisals will end immediately. If they do not, I will fire the forest and everything in it. You have three days to bring me their response.
‘Remember who rules this accursed continent, Takaar. I will suffer no further loss at the hands of elves.’
Takaar stood slowly and faced Ystormun.
‘Guarantee that Garan will be free from harm and I will deliver your message,’ he said.
Spoken like a true coward.
Ystormun laughed. It was a hollow sound, quite without soul.
‘Oh I am happy to guarantee that. In fact, my temporary loss of interest in Garan the experiment has been quite reversed and he can look forward to a long, long life to come.’ Ystormun leaned forward. ‘Go.’
Chapter 8
I once told Auum that we’d got it all wrong. There is so much in the rainforest to kill an ignorant human, I said, that we should welcome them in and just let the forest do its work. Let Beeth and Tual carry out sentence. He didn’t smile. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because for a heartbeat he actually took me seriously.
From A Charting of Decline, by Pelyn, Arch of the Al-Arynaar, Governor of Katura
Koel signalled the elf at the helm to move the barge into the deep water midstream. He breathed in the purity of the River Ix and the rainforest. He relished their fleeting freedom. To the north, the dark sky was further smudged by the smoke of Ysundeneth’s industry. In a day they would be behind the fences once more.
Koel had found himself praying for much of the time. His meeting with Auum had touched him deeply, bringing him comfort, strength and despair in equal measure. The temptation of freedom was so strong, but not one of them was prepared to desert their loved ones still trapped in the city. Though they aided the plans of man, Koel was intensely proud of his people. And pride, for an elf, was in short supply.
‘Koel.’
Koel tore his eyes from the smoke billowing up into the sky. Liun was standing forward towards the bow, and had been taking soundings. She was a strong stubborn Beethan — weren’t they all — but he had grown to respect her obduracy and he trusted her to be his second on the logging team more than he did one of his own Apposan thread.
‘Are we bottoming out?’
Liun shrugged. ‘The depth is fine. If I know this river at all there’s a fathom beneath the keel for the next twenty miles. I’d love that to be our biggest problem.’
Liun said no more, merely pointed to the starboard bank ahead of her. Koel could see nothing but the forest crowding the river’s edge. Branches leaned out from bowed trunks, leaves kissing the water. On closer inspection, though, Koel could see a bubbling and frothing, the water boiling beneath the broad leaves of an evergreen.
‘Piranha,’ he whispered and he hurried across to the rail. Before he got there, he saw the remnants of their feast. ‘Yniss preserve us.’
A disembodied head was bobbing on the surface. Much of the flesh was gone and when it rolled in the water under the weight of attack, it revealed a torn ear. It was a human head. Remnants of bloodied clothing were trapped within a net of small branches. A larger mass bobbing under an overhang of the bank revealed itself to be a limbless torso. Other scraps could be seen among the frenzy that would ultimately leave no trace at all.
Koel sucked at his bottom lip and looked into the forest beyond the water’s edge. Elves knelt there, praying. He counted seven and there would be more. He knew them. They were a search team, scouting for new logging sites and clearing any settlements they found. It was the harshest of the slave duties; no one wanted to come upon one of their own and end their freedom.
Koel rubbed his hands over his face.
‘Launch a boat!’ he called. ‘Pick them up, any who will come with us.’
He turned away, catching Liun’s eye.
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘We will just transport them more quickly to their own executions.’
Koel spread his hands and shook his head.
‘Because we have to stand as one. And die as one if we must.’
Auum’s mind was clouded. He ran knowing he risked injury to himself and those who followed him. He ran hard down stream beds, through the grabbing, clawing undergrowth and across abandoned hamlets and villages lost to the voracious growth of the rainforest.
The haunting cry of the ClawBound calling the TaiGethen to muster still echoed in his mind. It had split the forest, reaching into the highest boughs of the canopy and penetrating the deepest valleys and most distant caves. Auum had stopped running only when fatigue forced him to rest.
‘Tai, we pray,’ said Auum.
They knelt facing each other. Rain drummed on leaf and tree. Mud on the ground moved under the weight of water draining through it. The dark of the night was complete, cloud blotting out any hint of light from the heavens. Gyal was crying in the darkness, and the gods were listening.
‘Yniss hear me, your servant Auum. We seek your blessing for the task set before us. We seek your guidance. We are few and we are alone. Cover us with your embrace as we strive to free the enslaved and rid our country of the evil of man. Deliver our souls to Shorth should we fall. Secure us from harm, guide our blades and our limbs.
‘We do your work. Hear us.’
Auum kept his head bowed for a few moments, aware that Malaar and Elyss were staring at him. He did not look up when he spoke to them.