‘Thank you, lord, for the opportunity.’
‘It won’t necessarily save your life.’
Jeral’s words caught in his throat. He stammered and coughed.
‘The attack was fast and it was impossible to defend against because each elf worked with a panther and they needed no words to effect their plan. I saw their leader, I think he was their leader, look into the eyes of his animal once and, beyond that, they attacked our mages as one before turning their attention to the warriors.
‘They were just animals but they knew exactly who to take out first. You cannot train that into a beast. And I know we have spells that achieve much the same thing, but the elves have no magic like this. I was standing beside Nuin and he didn’t sense any magic being used. That was right before he had his throat ripped out by a panther while I was left wholly untouched.’
‘A shame,’ said Ystormun. ‘But something worthy of further investigation. Sildaan, you’re looking well. You bear your responsibilities with more grace every day.’
‘Only by accident,’ said Sildaan.
Ystormun began to chuckle, but it became a hacking cough and his expression hardened.
‘Do you recognise this skill in your people?’
‘There was no such link the last time I was in the rainforest.’
‘So Jeral is lying. I’m uncomfortable with liars.’
Jeral whimpered a desperate ‘No.’
‘I can’t say that with any certainty,’ said Sildaan quickly, feeling a bizarre kinship with Jeral. ‘But I can postulate.’
Ystormun picked up the roll of paper and shook it open.
‘Yes, please do. The ClawBound, Jeral called them. What are they?’
‘There have always been stories about elves forging closer and closer ties to Tual’s denizens. Elves whom no snake would bite, no insect sting, no predator hunt. It has long been held that the Silent Priests were actively seeking a true bond to every creature in the rainforest to greater understand the workings of Tual and, through him, of Yniss.
‘I have read Jeral’s report and there is no doubt that the elves he describes, though much changed, are Silent Priests. It is possible that they have spent their time working with panthers but I can give you no explanation how they might have forged a mental link with these beasts. I can only tell you that it is possible, because Yniss and Tual have the power to bestow such gifts.’
‘Your faith can explain anything it chooses, Sildaan, and you know I have little time for religion. The question is, would you reckon your life on it being possible?’
Sildaan did not have to think. ‘Yes.’
Ystormun nodded. ‘We thought as much. Very well. Jeral you are dismissed. Get some rest. You and your cohorts will have need of it.’
Jeral left the room with ungracious haste and Sildaan felt abandoned. Ystormun sank further into his chair, muttered and closed his eyes. He shook violently and words in a human language Sildaan had never heard before forced themselves from his lips. His entire body tensed and then relaxed. He opened his eyes and Sildaan saw they were his more usual dark colour, with bloodshot whites.
‘What are they doing, these ClawBound?’ he asked.
‘They are cleansing the forest,’ said Sildaan. ‘The Silent Priests always promised they would.’
‘So I have already been told. And they will not stop?’
Sildaan smiled. ‘No. Not until all humans within its boundaries are dead. You can consider the forest closed to you.’
‘Now that is a shame,’ said Ystormun. ‘Because at this time, this pivotal, crucial time, I cannot afford that.’
Sildaan quailed under his gaze, which was utterly bleak and murderous. ‘Please. Do not make the innocents suffer. This does not break any unspoken agreement you have with the TaiGethen. This is a calling of elves acting alone, I’m certain of it.’
‘You think me so stupid,’ said Ystormun. ‘Certainly stupid enough to slaughter my workforce in retaliation. I concede I was tempted. Eviscerating Sharps is always tempting, but not this time. This time even I have orders. We may not be ready but our hands have been forced by events in my country as well as the actions of your kin.
‘And so we shall take the rainforest and in doing so shall end the resistance — the existence, I should say — of the elven race. Do you want to watch the extinction of your race? I can offer you a prime seat.’
‘You cannot possibly believe you can defeat the TaiGethen in their own forest. Human blood will run in our rivers and you will never find our hidden city. Not even I know where it is.’
‘It’s called Katura and I am sure you know exactly where it is, Sildaan, but don’t worry, I won’t torture you in an attempt to find out. I don’t need to. I have someone who will lead us straight there.’
Sildaan had to steady herself against the side of the desk.
‘No elf would betray our people in such a way.’
‘No? Well, I suppose you are well placed to make such a judgement. And as it happens, you still retain your exalted position as betrayer-in-chief. This elf has no knowledge of the damage he is going to do his people. And the really pleasing thing is that he is one of your most fervent, most spectacularly faithful, people. He is possessed of talents not even he can fathom and is determined to use anything he can to the benefit of the elves.
‘Unfortunately he doesn’t realise that the focus of mana within his body is stronger than the scent of blood in the River Ix. He reeks of it, exudes it and can do nothing to hide it. And we, my dear Sildaan, could use it to follow him through the very bowels of the earth.
‘You really ought to come along and watch the show.’
Chapter 10
The rainforest is so utterly vast it is truly difficult for the mind to comprehend. Fly with mages, stand on the highest peak, sail the longest river, and you will achieve some small perspective. The way to truly understand is to walk for day upon unending day in a single direction and after the fiftieth, sixtieth or seventieth day know that you could be only halfway to the other side. Know that you are equally distant from its borders in any other direction. Know that the TaiGethen have trodden every inch of this land and have identified every place in which to kill their enemies. Know that there are an infinite number of such places.
Reminiscences of an Old Soldier, by Garan, sword master of Ysundeneth (retired)
Takaar had run to the eaves of the forest, there to curse his misfortune.
Misfortune? Remember a TaiGethen is never alone.
‘I am no longer TaiGethen and that blade would not enter his neck. Do not ask me why.’
I have no need. Your cowardice rears its head at the most spectacular moments and reduces your strength to that of a dung fly. Oh, the elves must hear of this latest betrayal.
‘You cannot goad me as you once did. And even then I was too strong for you. Did I step from that cliff edge? I did not. You lost this battle decade upon decade ago and still it hurts that you cannot control me.’
I have no desire to control you. Only to see you crawling on your belly like your beloved snakes with the eyes of every true elf upon you, knowing the truth about their erstwhile hero.
‘They already know the truth!’ Takaar’s voice set creatures scurrying deeper into the undergrowth. ‘And they have forgiven me, taken me to their hearts once more and allowed me to work to make them stronger, able to stand proud as men are driven from Calaius.’
Taken you to their hearts, have they? Is that why you run off to Garan the moment something goes wrong? Keener to hear the words of man than of elf when the world darkens?
‘Garan gives more than he takes and this time he has unlocked a secret and opened my eyes. I knew he would turn against Ystormun. I knew he would see man’s invasion for the sacrilege it is.’