‘Our blood will come at the highest price.’
‘We will be ready,’ said Koel.
Auum nodded. Koel watched him jump back onto the rail and then onto the cliff face, clinging like a lizard before climbing quickly out of sight.
‘Liun,’ called Koel. ‘We have new work to do.’
Auum was concealed in the bamboo shroud that grew along the sheer bank of the Ix as it approached the Ultan bridge. It was dawn. The bridge guards were uncharacteristically alert, and from within the walls every shout, every clang of metal or movement of a thousand steel-toed shoes spoke of an army preparing to march.
No matter that they probably outnumbered the TaiGethen by a hundred to one; no matter that they had magic to ram home their overwhelming numerical superiority, they would be walking into the jaws of hell. And with the grace of Shorth, Auum would make them pay for every desecrating step they took.
He knew they were coming when a phalanx of mages flew over the bridge and out across the narrow strip of grassland that bordered the ruined rainforest. He counted thirty of them, spreading out to ensure safe passage for the army. They’d flown directly over him and he could see them hovering over at least two TaiGethen cells, placed there to help Auum assess the army as it came past them.
Auum concentrated on the bridge once more. The ground was beginning to vibrate with the approach of Ystormun’s men and over the next two hours they crossed the bridge. Warriors and mages marched to the borders of the forest before turning onto the logging paths that ran alongside the banks of the Ix. Elven slaves among them could be seen carrying heavy packs of equipment, weapons and clothing.
Simultaneously, a fleet of lumber barges was sailing up the river, each packed with soldiers, mages and supplies. Auum bit his lip. He’d expected them to split their forces, but hadn’t thought each part would be of such size. He estimated there were three thousand on foot with a further thousand on board the barges.
Unless the humans had left Ysundeneth largely unguarded, Auum had seriously misjudged the scale of the occupation. What Auum most feared now was that similar armies would also be leaving Tolt Anoor and Deneth Barine, either to join forces or move against the forest on separate fronts.
It begged the question of why this move had not been made before, when the elves were weaker. This could not be solely a reaction to the actions of the ClawBound, though surely they were a factor. Something had changed; something else had forced their hands.
Auum watched the tail of the army disappear around the first bend in the river. More guard mages flew above them. Auum rubbed a hand over his face. The decisions the TaiGethen made now would govern the fate of all elves. He moved off to join his Tais, his mind racing.
If every cell answered the muster, fifty-four TaiGethen faced four thousand men from Ysundeneth alone. The only chance they had was to track and attack, strike and fade away. Wherever their enemy went, the TaiGethen would hound them, bleed them and teach them what it really meant to be an enemy of Yniss.
Chapter 11
Was it truly guilt that began to forge a change in the ClawBound psyche? I remain unconvinced. Fear is a key driver among Tual’s denizens. Far more likely then that the ClawBound, faced with the destruction of their habitat, simply changed their tactics in response, and that the tiny elven element within them misinterpreted that change as a desire to assuage their guilt.
From ClawBound and Silent, by Lysael, High Priestess of Yniss
The TaiGethen tracked and watched for five days, examining the enemy for weaknesses. There had been occasional glimpses of mages through breaks in the canopy and reported by scouts in the high branches, but Auum did not consider them a threat.
During the day squads of mages and warriors flanked the main column, providing early warning of any attack. Scouts moved ahead of the army, seeking the best path through the eaves of the forest when the river bank became impassable. Auum ignored them all.
But he could not ignore the heavily-guarded detachment of elves that moved three hours ahead of the column, marking the route, digging latrines and preparing areas for cook fires by clearing the undergrowth between the trees and collecting wood. There were more than a hundred elves in the party, accompanied by twenty-two mages and some fifty soldiers.
When they halted to prepare a site, the mages prepared multiple castings. Some were aimed at the ground and had to be wards while others were cast on the guards positioned around the site. Auum was unconcerned by any of them; he had no intention of walking in through the front door.
‘Elyss, what do you see?’ he asked.
‘The warriors are comfortable with their tasks,’ she said immediately. ‘They are elite soldiers, lightly armoured and with short blades. They’ve trained for combat here. We must respect them. They are not like the ones who attacked the temple.’
‘Excellent,’ said Auum. ‘Malaar, tell me about the mages.’
‘Half of them cast while the other half rest. Onelle has told us that using magic drains energy. So the more they are forced to cast or maintain their castings the more vulnerable they are. They do not cast solely defensive and offensive spells. Some are clearly for illness and injury. However I don’t understand why a single casting is made across the whole elven work party.’ Malaar smiled. ‘I look forward to asking them what it is.’
‘Good. Pass your information on and then meet me at the first jump point.’
All around the perimeter of the human campsite, TaiGethen climbed the great banyan trees. Five cells swarmed up the trunks, their fingers digging into the bark when there was no branch to hand and their feet pushed flat against the broad boles, propelling them up quickly and quietly. Auum raced Ulysan, a powerful TaiGethen with a long reach whose toes found the merest dent in the bark seemingly at will and whose fingers grabbed the strongest branches or penetrated the perfect knotholes.
They ascended two hundred feet, feeling the breeze begin to play on their faces and the heat of the sun beating down into the upper canopy. Ulysan was twenty feet above him when he sniffed the air and stilled. Auum followed his gaze. Through the leaf and branch cover he could see a mage tracking across the sky. He was circling above the campsite and working his way further outwards with each pass.
Auum gave the piercing cry of the howler monkey and was answered by calls both real and imitated from miles around. They had climbed high enough. He could see Ulysan smiling.
‘We’d better not dawdle. Sounds to me like you’ve just found yourself a mate and three challengers for her.’
Auum looked inwards and downwards, seeking his launch and landing boughs. The banyans themselves were well spread, and between them rainforest pine, balsa and palms grew, all reaching lesser heights than the banyans at maturity. Auum worked his way back down to a branch as thick as his torso and there he waited. Ulysan joined him. Shortly afterwards, so did Elyss and Malaar.
‘Lost your cell, Ulysan?’ asked Elyss, a glint in her eye.
‘I note it is a long way down should you lose your grip,’ said Ulysan.
‘Focus,’ said Auum. ‘We are a Tai of four and are the stronger for it.’
One by one, Auum heard four calls rise above the ambient noise of Tual’s creatures. Reptile, bird, insect and mammal sounds were repeated over and over. Auum responded with the call of the kinkajou and knew that his Tais were on the move.
Auum led, moving along the branch until it narrowed enough to bow under his weight. His feet were atop it, his hands clasping it, his body leaning forward. He felt the thrill as he gained momentum and his heart beat harder as he saw his target.
Mouthing a prayer to Yniss, he rocked forward, took his feet from the branch and swung hard beneath it. Auum waited until his body was horizontal then let go. He tucked, turned a backward roll, straightened once more and thumped onto his target branch on the next banyan. Auum came to a crouch, gripped the branch to still his momentum and ran to the trunk of the tree.
He didn’t pause. No good could come of watching the others jump. He had descended fifty feet. Still he had no sight of the ground, but he knew he was positioned directly over the perimeter of the camp. One more jump to
