‘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.
In the last few hundred yards, Auum’s senses heightened, bringing him an awareness of his immediate environment no stranger could possibly conceive.
Again they stopped for prayer and to mark their faces. Again they strung their compact high-tension bows. Again they headed towards their target, their total focus broken only by the two strangers outside the attack perimeter.
The Tai ignored them for now. Once their task was complete and the temple returned to the Al-Arynaar, they would be tracked to their destination. Just to be sure all the invaders died.
Auum stepped easily over a snap noose of fair quality. Interesting that they should attempt such crude traps. It suggested desperation, as did the thorn pits they skirted immediately after. A hiss brought him to a standstill. He looked left. Duele indicated trees ahead where men were concealed, two of them on the approach to the temple. Auum pointed to himself and then to the trees before indicating Duele and making a sweeping motion, pointing to his eye and up again into the branches.
Duele nodded and darted away. To the right, Evunn was a statue, barely visible even to Auum. He directed Evunn further right, both elves nocking arrows. The forest stilled. It was time.
The two bows sang together, arrows whipping away, striking their targets with deadly accuracy. One man was taken through the throat, the other’s heart was pierced. Auum was already running, another arrow in the string, ignoring the bodies as they fell near him. To the left, a jaqrui crescent whispered away, the thud of its strike reaching Auum’s tuned ears. Duele was at the platforms.
Twenty yards ahead, another stranger was staring out from a hide in the trees right by the stone path to the temple. He knew something was coming but could see nothing. As he opened his mouth to call a warning, Auum and Evunn both loosed arrows, the impacts in the enemy’s head and neck punching him out of the tree to crash into the foliage below, dead before he felt the fangs of the viper he disturbed.
A third arrow was in Auum’s bow before he broke cover at the side of the apron, sprinting round its left-hand side while Evunn took the right. He heard a shout from within the temple, an echoing scared voice. It was as they wanted, the expected reaction to his plan. Four crossbow bolts flashed out from the temple doorway.
Auum held up four fingers. Across the apron, Evunn mirrored his gesture, having seen the same number of bolts. In front of them, canvas fell across the opening, hiding the strangers inside the sacred trap they’d made for themselves and desecrated by their very touch. He heard voices from within; he couldn’t understand the language, but knew it jarred in his ears.
He and Evunn moved back into the edge of the forest either side of the apron. Duele appeared by him.
‘Five are dead,’ he said. ‘There are no more outside.’
Auum nodded. ‘Climb.’
Duele ran to the temple, keeping out of sight of the breaks in the canvas. He found footholds where there should have been none and climbed swiftly up the side of the building, moving onto the domed roof, arms and legs splayed for purchase, easing up smoothly. His route took him left and then right, allowing him to look down through six of the small tinted windows. At each one, he shaded his eyes with a hand. When he seemed satisfied, he came down to the stone lintel and sat just above the log that held the canvas covering in place.