'Why not?' The doubt was back.
'Because I advised him that he needed to tell the people best able to do something about it. So he's going to Dordover.'
'Are you sure?' Selik had to admit to himself that this was a far better solution than he'd planned.
'The look on his face,' said Devun. 'He believed me. I said they wouldn't believe us, but they'd believe a mage. I left it up to him how he said he learned the information.'
Selik scratched his neck with an index finger. 'I am genuinely impressed. Let us hope he doesn't get cold feet at the gates of Vuldaroq's college, eh?'
'Always a risk.' Devun shrugged.
'Indeed.'
Selik spurred the Black Wings on, his spirits lifted in a way he had not anticipated. The Blackthorne Mountains glowered down at them from his right as they rode, heading through the Varhawk Crags and then Blackthorne Town. He knew it would be a difficult meeting, but the warming early dawn sun on his face effectively masked the problems of the future.
Chapter 17
It was almost dawn. A violent cloudburst, accompanied by spectacular lightning and resounding thunder, had doused the watch fires and woken everyone from nervous sleep.
Yron called for the guards to be relieved and fresher faces trotted out to the two camouflaged elven platforms still standing and to four other concealed positions a few feet up in the trees. Anything to give them even a hint of warning.
The captain hadn't slept at all, standing at the door of the temple all night, feeling his anxiety grow as the inevitable attack drew closer. Four quartets of men had left camp hours before, skirting well away from their established path before heading north for the boats they'd left a couple of days downriver or on the longer walk direct to the ships moored in the Shorth Estuary.
With them they carried critical information from the temple. It was a gamble but, not knowing exactly who and what they faced, Yron felt he had no choice. He had entrusted the most valuable information to the group containing Erys.
His quick briefing of those left behind had been both poignant and uplifting. He hadn't sought to fool them, to lie or to soften the blow. They were there to hold on as long as they could and die for the greater glory. The elves they would face, he had told them, would be few but extraordinarily lethal, and he had cautioned them against being mesmerised by the speed or grace of what they saw.
And their fight would be entirely without magic. Stenys had also been sent with a group of runners, his magical skills better used in ensuring survival of the booty than staving off the inevitable at the temple.
Yron took Ben-Foran on a last tour of the hurried defences they'd set. Thorn traps dug perhaps a little shallow, twisted woodpiles positioned in the hope of driving their attackers down certain overlooked ways and a couple of snap nooses. Little more than glorified animal traps, these last were strung using tensioned saplings on the approach to the apron. Yron was surprised that they had not been attacked during the night. It was a blessing of sorts. Bought them and their runners precious time. Always assuming they hadn't already been hunted down. If he was honest, he expected only one of the groups to succeed and Erys's was the most likely.
'You should have left, Ben,' said Yron, more proud than he would ever admit that the young lieutenant had refused to leave his commanding officer.
'I'm a soldier,' said Ben-Foran. 'I'm not stealthy, I'm clumsy if anything, but I fight well. My skills are better used here.'
'So you keep saying.'
'So stop reminding me, Captain.' He sipped from the mug of tea he carried.
'You could have chosen life.'
'I chose soldiering,' said Ben-Foran. 'That sometimes includes death. It's an occupational hazard.'
Yron bent to check the snap mechanism on one of the nooses, wondering if Ben-Foran was as calm as he appeared. Gods knew, Yron wasn't, but then he had a greater knowledge of their enemy and still couldn't quite believe they hadn't arrived yet.
The noose was excellent. He didn't expect it to trap anyone but it would certainly give the elves pause for thought. He drained his own mug.
'Very good,' he said. 'Who set this?'
'I did.'
Yron smiled. 'Bloody waste of time teaching you though, wasn't it? Who're you going to pass it on to, some sub-deity in the afterlife? Gods, but I should have been a career drinker. It's so much simpler when you're pissed.'
'Teaching is never a waste,' said Ben-Foran. 'You never know when it's going to be your time to die.'
'Not a waste, eh? Then come and see this and learn. Unless you've something better to do.'
'Nothing pressing, Captain,' said Ben.
Yron led him away from the apron to the small natural clearing where they'd taken the elven bodies after the assault on the temple. He heard Ben take in a sharp breath.
Not four days ago, they'd left nine bodies there. None had questioned Yron on why. What was left were a few scattered bones and remnants of clothing. Everything else was gone.
'The forest takes everything back,' said Yron, his voice quiet and reverent. 'They deserved that respect from us.'
'I don't understand,' said Ben.
'It's an elven belief. One of many. All life returns to the forest in death. Everything is used. We owed them the respect of not burning them.'
'Oh, I see.'
'No graveyards in the rainforest, Ben. Burying corpses is a waste.'
Yron heard a sound at the far edge of his hearing. Ever so slight but not made by an animal, he was sure of it. He put a finger to his lips and gestured Ben-Foran into the shelter of a broad-leaved plant growing in the lee of a palm. The youngster knew better than to question him.
Stunned he wasn't dead, Yron watched the lithe shapes pass by scant yards from him. He couldn't help but be impressed by their economy of movement; it rendered them all but invisible, mere shadows across the forest floor.
With his heart loud in his chest, Yron turned his head to Ben-Foran, gesturing him to be still. The young soldier looked at him questioningly and nodded his head after the elves, a hand on his sword hilt.
Yron responded with a shake of his head and a frown. He scanned the ground at his feet and took the pace between them very slowly.
'We've got to warn the others. Help them,' whispered Ben-Foran.
'We wouldn't get twenty paces,' said Yron, his head almost touching Ben's, his voice very, very quiet. 'It's hard, I know, but the Gods have spared us for a reason or we'd already be dead. When the attack starts, we'll move. Go after Erys.' He paused and looked Ben in the eye. 'This isn't going to be nice.' Auum moved smoothly across the forest floor, Duele and Evunn his shadows. They'd rested to eat and pray not far from the strangers' camp in a place free of their stench. Ignoring the crudely hacked path the forest was already beginning to reclaim, they kept to the natural trails, aiming to see the temple at dawn when Cefu was at her most magnificent and their strength was at its height.
They could sense the strangers at the temple long before they could smell them. The forest was askew, Tual's denizens confused by the destruction so carelessly wrought. The balance was disturbed but there was more. The TaiGethen could feel it deep within them. It was as if Yniss had turned away, His attention deflected. The imbalance caused by the strangers in the forest was just one small part. What Auum and his breed could feel went deeper, to the base of everything on which the elven races built their existence. He could feel it in the air and taste it on the rain. It ran through him on the mana trails and was heard in the rustling of the wind through the canopy. It was everywhere.
Auum experienced an unusual frisson of anxiety. The harmony was at odds with itself. He knew it was serious but it was a matter for prayer and contemplation later. The Tai had their task for the present, as did the others he knew would be approaching from the south. Others were surely near too. And Al-Arynaar. Drawn by the unease that must have swept through all of them, though some would feel it more keenly than others.