Elves_ Once Walked with Gods Part 44

'The Arch of the TaiGethen has fallen!' shouted Grafyrre. 'Let your anger flow. Take revenge. There are men to be killed. Men are to blame.'

'No,' called Takaar, and he didn't know why he had done so. They could hear him above the tumult of the spells and the fire, he knew they could. 'We can't waste our lives. To do so wastes Katyett's too.'

'But we have nothing!' Merrat was screaming right into his face. 'We have no hostage. We have no leader and we have no escape. All we have is vengeance.'

Oh, how you must be enjoying this. You couldn't have planned it better if you'd tried.

Takaar stared briefly at the enemy forces not thirty yards distant and preparing to attack. Mages were falling back behind the lines of warriors. Someone had to speak to the TaiGethen, who were already praying for a glorious death.

Yes. Speak to them. Give them the big speech and then fail them.

Takaar's heart was rippling, or so it felt. The sweat was on his brow and back and the tremors had reached his arms. His vision tunnelled. They were close. So very, very close. Soon they would roll over these pitiful few and the TaiGethen would be finished for ever.

A quick elf, a lone elf, might get away. Unseen over the domes just beyond Tual. Too many would be seen and hunted down. Alone, you can make it. But only if you go now. Abandon that corpse in your arms. Do it. You must live. Someone must live to tell the tale of what happened here. You, Takaar. It has to be you.

Tantalising. The climb wouldn't even be hard. None would live to gainsay his version of events.

Think of the tale of glory you could weave. An ula of your intelligence.

Takaar walked forward beyond the first line of defenders already preparing for battle. Eyes followed him. Mistrustful eyes. Betrayed eyes. The TaiGethen possessed long memories and little room for forgiveness. Behind them, the temple doors had opened. Soldiers crowded the steps. Ystormun would be close.

Takaar looked at his escape route. He looked up to the heavens. Gyal's shroud was forging across the heavens. Shielding the eyes of the G.o.ds from the slaughter to come. Making the sky dark. It would rain hard enough to conceal an elf trying to escape his fate.

Takaar looked at the spires and slender towers of the temple of Tual. The places for birds and monkeys to rest. Where lizards and insects could find shelter and safety within the city.

No. Don't even think about it.

'I told you I got to choose,' muttered Takaar. 'Well I've chosen.'

He lifted Katyett's body above his head.

'Will you let your Arch, your hero, go to Shorth with her death a waste? Tens of thousands of your people lie in their beds not even knowing that they are living their last. Aye, it is so. Extermination follows from the hands of men. We cannot let that happen. We cannot bargain so we must fight. We must free our people, any that we can. Even one life saved is a blessing on the elven race and a wound in the body of men. Because we must fear magic we must nullify it. You all know what we must do.

'We are TaiGethen. Born to serve Yniss and our people. We do not serve him by laying down our lives to send a few worthless souls to Shorth. I'll do it on my own if I must. But I will not leave our people to die. Not this time.'

Takaar embraced Katyett to him, feeling her dead weight and the slackness in her limbs like a sword dragged slowly through his soul. He laid her inside the porch of Cefu, where the rain would not hurt her face.

'I will not fail you again, my love. I will not.'

I cannot believe what I am hearing.

'Then go and listen to someone else.'

Takaar ran at the human army of thousands. Thirty-seven TaiGethen came in his wake.

Chapter 40.

A superiority in numbers is one thing, the element of surprise is quite another.

Ystormun turned from the shattered windows. Hithuur was still breathing. Ystormun's hand flicked out casually and a stalk of lightning buried itself in his forehead, cooking his brain. He looked over at movement to his right.

'I see you managed to save your own skin, Helias. Good for you.'

Helias bobbed his head looking like nothing more than a child's toy, he was so pathetically grateful. Llyron and Sildaan were unscathed too. Remarkable. Ystormun moved swiftly to Llyron and grabbed her collars with one hand, pulling her upright and off the ground in a single powerful movement. She began to choke a little.

'What will they try to do?' he demanded.

'I have no idea,' said Llyron.

Ystormun felt a thrill of anger energise his tired body. 'High Priest of Shorth, I have been knocked down twice. It will not happen a third time. You know them. Tell me where they will try to go even though my army is pressing every corner of this ridiculous gathering of temples.'

'You killed their Arch,' said Sildaan, emerging from her hiding place. 'And they will kill you for that. But not tonight. Tonight they will seek to free those Hithuur told them were about to die.'

'They have no chance. They are pitiful in number.'

'You do not know them. You do not know their belief and their desire. And you do not know their speed and their skill. They will not try to beat you. Not tonight. But they will hurt you. That I promise.'

Ystormun let Llyron go and the high priest collapsed to the floor, gasping in grateful breaths. He loomed over Sildaan, whom he could see still retained a little of her courage. Plenty of time to extinguish that.

'You are free with your promises, Sildaan. How good of you to pledge so much to me. I will demonstrate my grat.i.tude thus.' Ystormun snapped his fingers and his aide, a mage of some small talent, came to his side. 'Are we set?'

The mage consulted a parchment he had been clutching in his hands.

'Yes, my lord. The Ixii, the Gyalans, the Orrans, the Cefans and the identified militant Tuali are held and secure. The chosen places are the museum, two of the larger grain stores, a market square to the north of the city centre and the walled courtyard in front of Llyron's mansion. None of the identified elves has a way out. We await only your word.'

'Then the word is given,' said Ystormun. He swung back to Sildaan. 'There. See how easy it is?'

'How easy what is?'

Ystormun sighed. 'And I thought you were supposed to be among the smarter of your race. Garan told me so, but perhaps respecting his judgement was my mistake. I do not have the manpower to enslave your entire race. Indeed to harvest the resources we want I frankly don't need your entire race. Neither do I have the manpower, or the desire, to keep them imprisoned. Such a cost. Cruel too, to keep creatures that desire freedom under lock and key, don't you think?'

'I don't understand,' said Sildaan.

'What I don't want, I discard. That is the way to maximum efficiency, maximum profit and minimal chance of dissension.' Ystormun watched Sildaan's face crumple. He smiled. Power was such a wonderful thing to wield. 'Ah, now you're getting it. And since I do not want to risk any of my swordsmen getting injured during the process, I have asked my extremely talented and imaginative mages to carry out the procedure cleanly and quickly. This they can do at a distance. It'll be painless too, which is a mercy I am happy to bestow.'

Sildaan's face was as pale as a sharp-ears face could get. Tears were spilling down her cheeks and she could only gasp out her words. Near her, Llyron was too stunned even to speak.

'Please, my lord. You have imprisoned thirty thousand - iad, ula and child. Innocents.'

'No elf is innocent,' said Ystormun. He turned to his mage. 'Is it really as many as thirty thousand?'

'That's a good estimate, my lord.'

Ystormun raised his eyebrows. 'Really? Well, Sildaan, it's fortunate that you have such a large forest in which to bury them all.'

The TaiGethen spread across the Path of Yniss, running hard at the human army. Grafyrre and Merrat were centre. Calling orders. Their grief and their pa.s.sion ringing in every word. And the TaiGethen responded, chanting a mourning dirge as they came, the words echoing against the blank wall of nervous human soldiers.

Takaar ran on their left, Auum and Marack flanking him. He could feel every one who ran as if they were touching him. Their energy, their faith and their belief. Their desire for purification and vengeance. Ahead, the human army was halted. Their line was forty abreast with room to wield their longswords, broadswords and shields.

Behind the front ranks of swordsmen, mages cast. Brown and green orbs arced into the night sky, heading for the piazza. The mages raised their heads to see their handiwork only to be confronted by the onrushing TaiGethen. Orders were barked. Mage heads dropped in concentration again.

Twenty yards to impact.

'Jaqrui!' called Grafyrre. Hands grabbed out crescent blades. 'Away!'

Takaar watched the deadly metal flash across the diminishing s.p.a.ce. Shields were held out. Blades raised. Fear ran through the enemy. Takaar's jaqrui slashed into the cheek of his target as he ducked and turned his head. Other crescents thudded into shields or careered from sword blades, shattering on walls or slicing into those behind. Most found flesh or leather armour.

'Jaqrui!' called Grafyrre again. 'Away!'

An order rang out across the human lines. Swordsmen dropped to their knees. Many threw themselves flat, knowing what was coming in front and behind. Mages raised their heads, ready. Jaqruis whispered into their lines. Blades chopped into hands, heads and chests. Mages screamed. Castings bloomed dark as mages lost control at the critical moment. Ice and fire fell on the human lines.

Ten yards and closing. Other mages, calmer mages, steadied and cast.

'Evade and strike!'

Clouds of ice washed out towards the TaiGethen on a dread frozen wind. Tongues of flame leapt from the hands of mages even as jaqruis struck them down. Takaar saw the castings rush towards them and felt a moment's peace mingle with his nausea, lessened since the touch of Ystormun's hands. The din subsided and the energies about him caressed rather than sickened him. He recognised the state. Last time he had felt it was in combat with the Garonin. He breathed it in.

Takaar could see the individual shards of ice in the ma.s.s that came towards him. He saw the twinkling yellow reflection of torchlight. Saw them turning end over end or spinning around their horizontal axis. Beautiful. Beguiling. Takaar leapt, pushing off with his left foot and arrowing into the air, his arms straight in front of him. He angled his body horizontal and pushed his arms to the sides.

The ice gouged beneath him. He felt flechettes snip at his jacket and the toes of his boots. The cold air behind the ice shocked his lungs. He was past the cloud in a heartbeat. The enemy were below him. None had even registered what was coming at them. Bloodied bodies, jaqrui victims, writhed on the ground amidst those caught in the h.e.l.l of their own castings.

Takaar brought his legs under him. He came down in a crouch, straddling a moving body. He jabbed out his hand, straight-fingered, crushing the man's windpipe. Takaar straightened. Enemies were everywhere. TaiGethen who'd rolled under the castings came to their feet. Others who had chosen to leap landed all around him.

'Strike forward, guard your backs!' called Merrat. 'Tais, we strike.'

The mage in front of Takaar raised his head. Takaar saw him mouth what was most probably a curse. Takaar swept a blade from his back and chopped it hard down the mage's face. The man fell silently. The TaiGethen surged forward, still singing the mourning dirge.

Keller wasn't lead mage for nothing. He'd seen what was going to happen and cast wings on his back rather than ice for his fingers. He shot straight up into the air past the diving and rolling forms of the TaiGethen and breathed a huge sigh of relief that he was not on the ground.

Garan had ordered seventeen hundred men up the Path of Yniss from the barracks and staging areas the moment the confirmation of the attack on the temple had been confirmed. Everything had been foreseen by Ystormun, but he had not understood the tenacity of the TaiGethen. Maybe he had a.s.sumed the temple would be reached but this, he could not have foreseen this.

A few TaiGethen had been trapped in the piazza. They could not get out to the sides or the rear. Sitting targets for spells and then blades to mop up the survivors. That they would attack was against all reason. But up here, where it was safe and the screams of the dying filtered up through the din of barked orders, the low elven chanting and the steady disintegration of order, Keller could see something more.

They weren't just attacking. They were trying to break through. Unbelievable. Keller flew back towards Garan. He could see the big general amidst his men, too far back to see what was happening further forward.

'Garan!' Garan looked up. 'You have to break your force. They're in amongst you. No room to fight.'

'We'll take them as we are.'

'You don't understand. They aren't fighting head on. They're trying to get through us. Order daggers drawn at least. Be ready.'

Garan glared at him. 'That is not the way to face this enemy. They're too quick. We need heavy defence.'

'Clear a break. Make room for spells, then.'

'Now that I might do.'

Keller nodded and rose again. 'Sooner rather than later.'

He flew back towards the fighting. In the gloom, he could barely follow it. More so because the elves were so d.a.m.ned fast. Three leapt above the men they were approaching, rolled in the air and came down striking out. Three men died. Mages behind them made to cast. Woefully slow. Blades licked out. Mages fell.

In the centre of the street a knot of soldiers had formed, facing in all directions and bristling with weapons. The elves ran at them, leapt over them, continued on down the street while the men scattered. Elves came from nowhere. Hands and feet struck out. Men were spun on their heels. Heads snapped back. Blades caught the torchlight. Blood misted into the night sky.

'Dear G.o.ds around us,' whispered Keller. 'It's a ma.s.sacre.'

In the centre of their force, the humans were packed too tight to fight. They couldn't free their swords. They pushed for s.p.a.ce. Angry shouts rattled across their lines. Panic was beginning to grow. Men were dying. Elves were not. Mages dare not cast in the confined s.p.a.ce. More and more took the route of the coward and flew straight up, abandoning their comrades to the cold, disciplined fury of the TaiGethen.

'Forward!' called Grafyrre. 'Keep moving forward.'

Blood slicked the cobbles. Bodies of men choked the gutters and the central drains. Auum spun and kicked high, his foot smacking into the side of an enemy's head. The man fell sideways. Auum moved into the s.p.a.ce. A sword came at him, hurried through waist high. Auum ducked it. The soldier couldn't control the sweep. The blade sank into the gut of one of his own.

Takaar ensured the man went down hard. He moved up. Marack blocked aside a downward cut. Takaar slid a blade through the man's ribs. s.p.a.ce. Auum moved up. Takaar paced forward and leapt. He twisted in the air, landed and hacked down. Blood surged from his target's shoulder.

Auum dropped, slid the feet from a mage. Marack hacked into his chest and moved into the s.p.a.ce. The press was getting thicker. The pressure increasing from behind too. Auum felt his movements hampered for the first time. Ahead, men were slowly getting themselves together, holding their swords straight out and using them for stabbing. Overhead, mages were flying down the Path of Yniss. Not in confusion, with purpose. Auum saw them and knew in his heart that time was short for the doomed threads.

'Follow me!' yelled Takaar.

'Where?'

Auum diverted a blade coming for his gut and thumped the heel of his palm into his enemy's chest. The man fell back against the rank behind. Takaar pointed to the sky.

'Up.'

Auum smiled. 'Graf! Heads up and run.'

Grafyrre relayed the idea as an order and the TaiGethen reacted as one. The man Auum had just knocked down had been caught by those behind. Auum ran up the front of his body and launched himself from the man's face. He jumped high above the human army. He cycled his arms and legs, reaching out as far as he could, searching for the ideal landing point. He saw it catch the light of torches from either side of the Path of Yniss.