‘I am Auum. I am Arch of the TaiGethen. And if you survive the journey back to your army, tell them this: not one of them will emerge from this forest alive. You are travelling to the gates of a place you would term hell, and we will torment each of your souls on its way.
‘You cannot defeat us, you can only fear us and fall before us. We are the elves. The forest is ours.’
Auum swivelled and planted a straight kick into the warrior’s face, smashing his nose across one cheek.
‘Run. And may Tual’s denizens feast on your blood and flesh before your death takes you screaming to Shorth.’
The warrior stumbled away, his heaving cries already beginning to reverberate through the forest.
‘Auum, it is done,’ said Ulysan. ‘The rest are scattering back towards the main column.’
Auum turned. The fight was won, but at too high a cost. Gyneev was dead. Acclan and his Tai would be injured at best. The elven work party was bunched together a hundred paces away, their axes and shovels abandoned where they had dropped them to run to relative safety.
‘Ulysan, find Faleen and report on Acclan. Illast, your Tai has fallen. Prepare his body and we will pray for him when we are safe. Elyss, report back to me with injuries. We need to tend to those we can. This is just the beginning.’
The ground was scattered with bodies. Auum counted thirteen mages and twenty warriors whose bodies would be left for Tual’s denizens to reclaim for the glory of the forest. Auum moved among them. He signalled a Tai to him; Hassek of Faleen’s cell.
‘Take anything of use from the bodies.’
Auum walked towards the elven work party. Malaar and Wirann were ahead of him. The liberated elves shrank away, putting up their hands to warn the TaiGethen away. Auum frowned and picked up his pace.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘They’re frightened,’ said Wirann. ‘Telling us we must not touch them.’
‘It’s all right,’ Malaar was saying. ‘We’re here to help you.’
But they continued to back off. Most were standing now, shouting that it was a trap and they would all die.
‘No one can hurt you now,’ said Auum, sheathing his swords. ‘Calm yourselves. You’re free. There is no trap but the one we have sprung ourselves. You are slaves no more.’
Malaar was laughing. Wirann’s smile was sympathetic and warm. After so long in captivity, who could blame them for believing every word their captors told them? One of the elves stumbled over an exposed root and fell onto his rump. Wirann reached out to grab his arm.
Auum felt a dread chill spread all over him. Something Malaar had said, something about a single casting on the elves.
‘Wirann!’ he screamed. ‘No!’
Wirann touched the elf’s arm and the forest turned to blue fire.
Chapter 12
I was always taught that being able to face your enemy is the prime requisite in choosing whether or not to fight him. The trouble is that when fighting the TaiGethen in the rainforest, you don’t get to face them and you don’t get to choose whether to fight or not. It’s best just to make sure you have a comfortable place to fall when you die.
Reminiscences of an Old Soldie r, by Garan, sword master of Ysundeneth (retired)
Heat and roaring and screaming and burning.
Auum rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He was surrounded by blue tinged with yellow and blown through with thickening smoke. Magical fire gorging on precious trees and…
‘Malaar!’
Auum tried to sit up. Pain slammed along the length of his right leg and up into his back. His left shoulder was dislocated. His left arm hung limp and pain grated across his neck and up into his skull making him nauseous. Smoke brought tears to his eyes and fogged his vision, but he could see enough. His right ankle was twisted, lodged in a root.
Auum tried to clear his head. A few details filtered in. The explosion had rushed towards him, engulfing Malaar and Wirann. Auum had dived for the cover of a palm tree trunk but hadn’t quite made it. His leap had been spun out of control by the force of the blast.
The roaring in his ears was losing intensity and he could hear the screams more clearly now. From his position, he could see the seat of the explosion and TaiGethen rushing in to see if there were any survivors. The screams told him they were witnessing something awful.
The fire was spreading around the clearing. The trees all around them were ablaze and weakened branches were beginning to fall. The palm tree against which Auum rested was burning on the opposite side. There was fire on the ground all around him where he lay in partial shelter.
Auum put his right hand on the trunk and pushed up with his left leg, letting his right foot drag out from beneath the root as he stood. His whole body was alive with pain and he could feel blood running down his face. The fire surrounded him, the heat growing by the moment. His people were scattered and scared. He needed to move.
He pushed away from the tree, adjusting his balance to mitigate his two key injuries. There was a vibration running through the ground — heavy feet, running hard. Auum cast about him, but the smoke and flame obscured anything beyond twenty yards or so. He was breathing hard, clinging on to consciousness. The air was thick and poisonous and he was struggling to manage the waves of pain sweeping over him.
‘Auum!’
Auum looked to his left. Relief was a balm on his agony.
‘Ulysan.’ The powerful TaiGethen came to his side. ‘Help me get this shoulder back in.’
‘No time,’ said Ulysan. ‘The humans are coming back to finish what they started. Now we know why they ran so readily.’
‘I have to be able to fight,’ said Auum.
‘You’re joking,’ said Ulysan. ‘You’re half dead. Come on. Let me support you.’
‘I will not leave as an invalid. Help me. We have to get our people away from here. You can’t organise it with me hanging off your shoulder.’
Ulysan sighed and shook his head. Ordinarily, Auum would have laughed; he knew exactly what his Tai was thinking. Auum, his right hand resting on the tree trunk and with flame licking ever closer, smoke thickening fast, lifted his left arm, feeling the shoulder ball grating against the socket and his muscles protesting.
Ulysan took the arm in both his hands, continuing the lift as slowly as he dared, his eyes continuously flicking across to the spot where the enemy would emerge, or from which new spells would come. When his arm moved past the perpendicular, Ulysan took Auum’s wrist and bent his forearm around the back of his head and towards his right shoulder.
Auum breathed slowly, feeling the joint move into position. With a distinct thud through his ribs, the ball popped back into the socket. Ulysan released his arm and Auum moved it back down to his side. There was an intense ache across the top of his back and down the arm but at least it now worked. He made a fist and grimaced. It would have to do. He put his right arm around Ulysan’s neck.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Auum’s injured ankle would take no weight whatsoever. The TaiGethen pair moved as fast as they could towards the remains of the elven working party. Despite the risk of fire and smoke, the surviving TaiGethen were all gathered there.
‘Form up!’ ordered Auum. ‘Away into the trees. We cannot-’
Elyss was kneeling on the ground, heedless of the smouldering leaf litter all around her. When he spoke, she turned round and the expression on her face stalled his next words. He and Ulysan moved towards her. She was shivering. Tears flooded down her face, smearing the ash dust that clung there. She was holding something in her hands.
‘It’s all that’s left,’ she said, her voice cracked and raw. ‘How could they do this? Even for them this is…’
Elyss opened her hands and Auum could see they were burned. The belt clasp of Malaar’s jaqrui pouch, fused to the melted remains of the throwing crescents, was sitting in her palms. Auum let his eyes track over the ground, across an area that was scorched black.