The Raven Collection Part 175

Outside, a low growl was followed by a scream, cut off abruptly.

'The ClawBound will help,' said Auum.

'And if we can't find it?' asked Duele.

'Then we will take one of the strangers alive. And he will be but the first to pay for what they have done here.'

Auum pushed himself to his feet. The Al-Arynaar would soon arrive. And more TaiGethen cells. Much could be done to cleanse the temple and raise the hand from its resting place but the statue would not be complete until the thumb was returned. And until then, Yniss would forsake them.

Auum felt a chill dread creep over his body. He knew the writings. He knew the consequences. A tear ran down his cheek.

Chapter 18.

Captain Yron had been frozen in terror, suddenly sure he'd never truly experienced the emotion before. Originally, he'd planned to make their escape once the temple was attacked, but the attack had been so swift and sure he'd kept Ben-Foran hidden by the scattered bones of the elves. At the same time, he'd heard a big cat advancing along the path.

He could just about see it in the shadows. The panther was fifty yards from him and directly behind it stood an elf whose face was painted half white. It was the only part of him Yron could see. They had moved towards the ap.r.o.n; there had been a commotion, a scream and the panther had pounced. Yron had closed his eyes, hearing his man's cries cut off, and had prayed that he and Ben would be spared such a fate.

Now, with all four elves and the panther in the temple, or at least very near it, he signalled to Ben and they moved. Rising to their feet, the squawking of birds masking at least some of their noise, he took the most careful pace of his life, his foot coming down soundlessly. He indicated that Ben should step directly into his prints and moved off, all the time waiting for the whisper or wail of one of their throwing crescents or the thud of a bowstring.

With agonising slowness, he reached the path his trailblazers had hacked through the forest and started down it, still staring at the ground immediately in front of him, hardly daring to breathe. He could feel the sweat pouring down his back and face, he saw it drip onto the ground beneath his chin. Over and over, he told himself to keep calm, to resist the desire to run. They had to get out of earshot before they did and he had no real idea how far that might be.

Pausing and looking back over his shoulder, he saw Ben-Foran's drawn and pale face. It too was slick with sweat and the young soldier reflexively clasped and unclasped his hand around the pommel of his sword. Yron raised his eyebrows, Ben replying with a nod. They walked on.

Just a little further, he told himself, just a little further.

The path was alive; countless ants scurried to and fro. He was careful to step over them as well as he could. Tiny though they were individually, they packed painful bites and he didn't need them up his legs and in his boots. It was impossible to find silent footing now. The debris of the crude path lay on the ground and cracked beneath his feet, the reports like thunder in his ears.

He stopped again and looked up. The light was going fast. He couldn't see the sky but knew cloud must be boiling up from the south. He let Ben-Foran catch up and whispered, 'When you feel the first raindrop, run. Run as fast as you can for as long as you can. Don't stop until you think you're going to die.'

'Where are we going?'

'Towards the camp, then east to the river, any river. We've got to throw them off the scent or we'll be dead before nightfall.'

Thunder rolled in the distance. The humidity climbed. Yron was soaked beneath his clothes. Rain would be refreshing. It came suddenly and very heavy, thudding into the canopy and driving through. A drop landed on the ground in front, immediately joined by a thousand others. He ran.

With Ben behind him, he ran faster than he ever had, fear driving his limbs. Though he tried to listen for noise, he could hear nothing but the sounds of his feet slapping on the ground, the rain drumming overhead and his breathing loud and fast. It was exhilarating, uplifting. Ahead the path was already being overgrown, and he brushed aside lianas, creepers and spiders' webs. All around him, he knew the smaller animals would be seeking shelter while the larger ignored the deluge, accepting it with stoicism.

Sloths, monkeys, monitor lizards, tapir. All would sit it out wherever they were while he and Ben sprinted past, heedless of root and low branch, of striking snake and angry spider. Because what was behind them, Yron knew not how far, was infinitely more dangerous. Distance alone wouldn't save them; distance and a river in flood just might.

Calling on everything he had left, Yron dragged another breath into his protesting lungs and ran on.

Rebraal wasn't sure if he was awake or asleep. He knew he was lying down but had no idea if he was floating or not. He fought his mind, tried to drive it to think, but all he got were s.n.a.t.c.hes of scenes of which he wasn't even sure he'd been a part. Of ClawBound carrying him. Of Mercuun crying out. Of the rain pouring across his face and of people crowding, looking down on him and frowning.

He was inside, he thought. It was dark. But maybe that was because he couldn't see. He felt hot. Very hot. He could smell the scents of menispere, casimir and of pokeweed mixing in the still air. And he'd felt the touch of a spell, too, though he might have dreamed that also. It was so hard to tell.

A shaft of light stabbed through the darkness and he realised at least he wasn't blind. A face swam into view in front of his and leant over. It was fuzzy and he didn't recognise it but he could see the smile that didn't mask the concern. She spoke words but he couldn't hear them, only a murmur as if he was underwater. He tried to move his head but his neck was locked and pain scorched down his back and across his shoulders.

She pressed her arms on his chest and shook her head. She was quite old, he thought. He wanted to speak. He knew his mouth was open and moving but whatever tumbled out was not understood. Maybe they were both speaking underwater. The random thought amused him.

Cool on his forehead. Wet. He opened eyes he hadn't realised he'd closed and saw her dabbing him with a cloth. It felt good but the burning soon came back. He wanted to touch her but his arms were leaden. He wanted her to know he was thankful but he was locked inside himself.

A second figure joined them. Another woman. Younger. She laid her hands on his shoulder. She was talking too, and as she did the ache that hammered there diminished to nothing and a gentle warmth suffused his body. He thought he saw them withdraw but then wasn't sure if they'd been there at all.

He closed his eyes and the nightmares came.

The TaiGethen used water from the pool itself to cleanse the temple. Auum was possessed of an anger he could not quench as he scrubbed at the floor with palm leaves soaked in lime. The juice stung his fingers but he ignored the irritation. Every hint of stranger blood had to go. Every boot mark, every careless scratch had to be expunged.

Duele, Evunn and the ClawBound were outside, dealing with the bodies, offering them up to Tual. Auum couldn't bring himself to join them, unsure whether those that had perpetrated this crime against the elven races should be consumed by the forest denizens. So he stayed to clean and he wouldn't be satisfied until the floor ran with the blood from his own raw hands.

It was late in the afternoon when Auum had scoured the temple enough and the stone shone clean. He and his Tai had raised the marble hand and it sat next to the stump to which it had been attached. They had collected every chip of marble from pool and floor. All that remained missing was dust and the thumb fragment. And Duele had reported many writings gone from the temple's chambers of contemplation, compounding the desecration.

Examining the tent the strangers had pitched to the left of the ap.r.o.n before tearing it and its contents to shreds, the Tai had found food and equipment for more than the twenty-one they had killed and the two they would soon hunt. It seemed clear that others had run too, and almost certainly north. It was critical that all these strangers were found, killed and searched. This was too big for one TaiGethen cell and one ClawBound pair. Auum brought his Tai together, and after their prayers had been offered and their fast of the day broken, he told them of his decision.

'We will track the two we saw,' he said. 'They will lead us to others. The ClawBound pair can start now if they will. We will wait for our brother TaiGethen and the Al-Arynaar. Many are close, I can feel it.'

He stopped to chew a mouthful of food.

'Yniss has set us the stiffest of tests and we must not fail. Every elf depends upon us. All that was taken from here must be returned. Let no one and nothing stand in our way. But do not indulge in retribution or revenge while our task is upon us. Those may come later. Rest now, for when we begin again we must not pause until the harmony is restored. Are you both full well?'

They knew what he asked them, whether the spiritual unease they felt had affected them physically or mentally. Both nodded their heads.

'Do not be silent if you should change. I will talk to the ClawBound. '

Auum flowed to his feet and walked across the ap.r.o.n to where the elf and panther sat at the edge of the forest. The heavily muscled sleek black feline had her paw on the bones of a large rodent and was chewing the flesh. Beside her, the elf crunched on raw vegetables.

'You saw the two?' asked Auum.

The ClawBound turned their heads to him as one, their eyes on him, the panther's yellow and hooded, the elf's a deep dark green. The elf nodded.

'You understand what we seek? All must die. All that was taken must be returned. Will you track the two for us?'

Another nod.

'Tual watch over you. We will not be far behind you.'

Auum returned to his Tai. Behind him, the ClawBound slipped silently back into the forest.

Chapter 19.

Two more days. Two more days of heat, rain, sweat, flies, snakes, lizards, spiders, rats and bickering men. Erienne hardly slept a wink that first night and the next was no better. She spent the days staring into the waters of the River Ix as the guide took them away from the main flow and up countless turns, branches and tributaries. By the end of the second day, she was so unsure of their overall direction, she had to keep checking their position by the sun.

This was surely some form of elaborate torture designed for a purpose she couldn't guess. The land was h.e.l.l above ground, the skies disgorged rain that stung her head through the hood of her cloak, and everywhere there were animals large and small obsessed solely with killing her should she make one false move. Even the brightly coloured frogs, Ren had told her cheerfully, could unintentionally end her life.

And so, when they did land, for a break or for that dreaded second night, Erienne was scared every time she put her foot down, stretched out an arm to steady herself or sat on a log to eat around the fire. Even had she wanted to, she couldn't have sustained a conversation. Her concentration was broken by every rustle and crack in the undergrowth and every call of every animal. It made her temporarily useless as a mage, and already Denser and Ilkar had become a little irritable that the cleansing and gentle healing spells they had to cast were not being shared equally.

She tried telling herself that the threat couldn't be everywhere, that she was simply overreacting to an alien situation. She stared long at Ren and Ilkar, who seemed so completely at ease. And at Kayloor, respectful of the forest but comfortable. At Hirad and The Unknown, who accepted their situation with trademark phlegmatism, and at Thraun, who absolutely loved it and whose hunting instincts were sharper than ever, back beneath trees where he felt he belonged.

But she could turn to Denser and Darrick because she knew, without having to ask, that the strangeness affected them too. Her only other option was to retreat into her mind alone, which was even more distressing filled as it was with Lyanna. Being apart from her daughter's grave had broken the direct a.s.sociation but nothing would ever dim the memories. Her desperation was as keen as ever, and those scant moments when her memories brought her joy were scarce jewels in the desert. But she couldn't cry. Not here. This place didn't understand her pain, and her tears and rage would be wasted.

To distract herself as they sailed, she tried to imagine what lay beneath them. Ilkar and Ren had been fulsome in their descriptions and she had bought it all, fuel for her fears. The shoals of flesh-eating fish that scented blood from ten miles' distance. The thirty-foot crocodiles with jaws strong enough to pierce plate mail. The invisible creatures that burrowed into flesh and laid their young to grow fat on host blood.

She imagined war beneath the impenetrable surface. The flashing of scales in the dance of life. And seeing one of the armoured beasts surge from the river to take a tapir as it drank fed her fantasies until she expected a fanged head to spear through the floor of the boat and take them all to the terrible drowning death that dominated her nightmares.

But instead they landed for good in the late afternoon of the third day at a shallow beach fringed with palms and waving gra.s.ses, home to three dozen and more fishing boats and open canoes.

'Home,' said Ilkar, leaping onto the land and staring up the beach.

'About b.l.o.o.d.y time,' said Hirad, following him to stand with hands on hips.

Erienne felt a rush of relief. She needed to lie under a roof, in something more substantial than a hammock. The light was beginning to fade, she was tired, hungry and could no longer ignore the growing pulse in her head as a pa.s.sing ache. It had been coming on for days. At least now she could hope for a little privacy and security to sort it out.

'It's beautiful,' said Ren, slipping an arm around Ilkar's waist.

A flight of red-backed parrots pa.s.sed over them, heading for the cloud-shrouded green heights and the falls they could just make out in the distance.

'Naturally,' said Ilkar.

'He's going to tell us it's a five-mile swamp hike through snake-infested forest to his front door,' grumbled Denser, though he was smiling. He looked down at Erienne, his expression sobering. 'Are you all right, love?'

'd.a.m.n fool question,' said Erienne, feeling the comfort of his closeness and empathy.

'You know what I mean.'

'Later,' she said.

'The village is literally just over the rise here,' said Ilkar, pointing up the bank through which a path had been well trodden, its shingle all but covered in mud.

Erienne followed his arm and could see the odd plume of smoke rising into the heavy sky. It was getting very hot again. She felt the sweat p.r.i.c.kling on her and had a sudden longing for winter and the cold. Even the rain here was hot enough to bathe in.

The Unknown and Aeb had hauled all of their kit from the boat under the scowling gaze of Kayloor.

'Let's get going,' said Hirad. 'I can feel rain.' He shouldered his sack and glared at their elven guide. 'It's been a real pleasure.'

'Respect the forest. Cefu watches you,' said Kayloor in halting Balaian.

'It speaks,' said Hirad.

'Yes, and so do you,' said Ilkar. 'Too much. He's just giving you sound advice.'

'Who's Cefu again?'

'G.o.d of the canopy, Hirad,' said Erienne.

Ilkar smiled. 'At least someone listens to me. And remember what I told you before. People will stare at you. They won't want you to be here. Don't react; let Ren and me guide you. And Hirad, no staring back.'

'Me?' Hirad's expression was pained innocence.

'Yes, you,' said Ilkar. 'Prolonged eye contact is a challenge. Don't make it until they accept you. Really. Come on.'

He led the way up the bank, The Raven and Ren close behind him as the rain swept across the river and soaked them yet again. It wasn't even worth hurrying. They'd learned that much. And at least it discouraged the flies.

Taanepol, Ilkar's home village, which roughly translated meant 'town on the river', was a cl.u.s.ter of approaching two hundred wood and leaf-thatch buildings in an elf-made clearing somehow in total sympathy with the forest around it. Trees overlooked it on three sides, with the fourth largely open as the ground fell away towards the river.

It was not an obviously organised settlement to the Balaian eye because there was no discernible centre or dominating structure. Groups of buildings were gathered loosely around cleared areas in which fire pits sat, tables and benches were arranged, and cooking and hunting paraphernalia lay scattered. Every house had a wide covered porch, roofs angled to take the rain into shallow channels that ran away downhill and back to the Ix.

As they approached, the rain smearing their faces, Erienne thought she could see what looked like a moat along the edge of the village, bridged by lashed-together logs. Ilkar was speaking for all their benefits.

'There'll be about five hundred in all here, though at any one time half are fishing, hunting or farming. Or on Balaia mage-training, if they feel the calling. I know it looks a bit jumbled, but like every other village, it was originally settled by one family and has grown as others were accepted and joined.'

'Why did it happen that way?' asked The Unknown. 'Protection presumably.'

'That's right. The elves of Calaius have a tribal history no less torn by war than the Wesmen's. Even so, this is one of the biggest settlements you'll find this deep in the forest.'

'So how come you're allowed to hack down the forest but when we break a twig Captain Miserable has a fit?'

'Because, Hirad, it's our land. We were born to it and we husband it. This isn't wanton destruction. We benefit the forest; strangers destroy it,' said Ilkar. 'Like I say, just respect elven beliefs and you'll have no trouble.'

It was a moat. Dug square, and she could see as she neared that it was the best part of six feet deep and around eight feet wide. Log bridges crossed it in five places.

'Expecting attack, are you?' she asked.

'Not exactly,' said Ilkar, turning and smiling through the downpour, his black hair smeared on his head. He stopped on the bridge. 'It keeps our animals in and some of the undesirables out.'

Erienne caught her breath. The moat was lined with an inch or so of water and seemed to be teeming with life. Lizards, rodents, snakes - she could see them all in there - scuttling or slithering here and there or testing the sides of the moat. There had to be dozens of the things in the stretches she could see to either side.

'It's hardly going to stop a spider, is it?' said The Unknown.

Ilkar shrugged. 'Probably not, but we fill it periodically with a mild alkali. Creatures don't like it. Then, in the morning, we clear it out and get them back into the forest where they belong.'

'Is it that bad?' asked Darrick.

'Unless things have changed radically, it varies,' said Ilkar. 'It's just a safer environment, particularly for the young ones. They need to be taught to treat animals correctly to avoid trouble. Some of these things don't give you a second chance.'

Erienne walked briskly across the bridge, feeling altogether safer. It all made perfect sense to her. But, like crossing from light into shadow, the hostility hit her immediately too.

All activity had stopped in the village. Children came running out until voices stopped them. Adults moved deliberately and with common purpose. There were no weapons evident. None was needed to convey the message. Most of the villagers were dressed simply in dark-coloured tops and trousers. All were dark-skinned with p.r.o.nounced cheekbones and deep frowns.