spell either. You won’t catch me on one of those things now, that’s for sure. Not a fucking chance.’
Jeral looked back at the water. Burning barrels and sacks had been pushed into the water, diminishing the fires still further. There was almost total silence. The water had ceased to churn. A couple of rowing boats were scudding between barges. Men were being transferred and the occasional glow signified mages at work, tidying up wounds. But of those who had fallen into the river, there was nothing left to save.
In the forest the pickets had been strengthened, and everywhere you looked hardened soldiers were shuddering and shivering as if cold. It wasn’t even raining yet.
‘Seen anything of our glorious leaders?’ asked Hynd.
Jeral sniffed. ‘What do you think? No doubt they surrounded themselves with mages, castings and spears and crawled under the biggest rocks they could find. No, strike that. It’s the middle of the night, isn’t it? Loreb will be pissed and won’t know anything’s happened. Killith is probably organising a sing-song or something. Pindock, now he will be under a rock somewhere with shit dribbling down his legs. What we could really do with is a word from your lot. I mean, how much further is this place? It had better fucking exist, that’s all I can say.’
‘Takaar is on the move,’ said Hynd. ‘All we can do is follow him.’
‘But for how long? Ten days? Forty?’ Hynd shrugged and Jeral blew out his cheeks. ‘Look around, Hynd. There are plenty of scared people out there. We don’t know how long we’re going to be marching deeper and deeper into this hideous leafy hell and we’ve just lost a load of our food into the bargain. How are your blisters?’
Hynd smiled. ‘Being a mage has its benefits.’
‘Haven’t fixed mine though, have you? And I’m not the worst. We’ve got rot and splits deep enough to have been made by a knife. What we need, us ordinary soldiers, is a bit of communication. This can’t go on.’
‘Tell Killith then,’ said Hynd sharply. ‘It’s not up to me, is it? Anyway I don’t know any more than you do.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. You know how this works. We follow the elf to Katura and then we kill whatever we find there.’
‘And we hope to hell he doesn’t just wander around in a big circle.’
‘Ystormun doesn’t think he will.’
Jeral spat. ‘Well Ystormun isn’t out here. And I think we’ve already had ample evidence that the elves are a bunch of sneaky bastards. I wonder how many men we’ll have left when we eventually get a proper fight?’
‘You worry too much.’
‘Nuin said the same thing, just before a panther ripped out his throat,’ said Jeral, scratching his scars. ‘I mean, has it really not crossed your master’s mind that Takaar might lead us astray to give the TaiGethen more opportunities to scare the crap out of us?’
‘He’s travelling almost due south,’ said Hynd. ‘He’s not going in a circle. We’re scouting ahead of him when we can but our stamina is finite.’
‘So is the flesh on my feet. So is the army’s morale — especially after tonight. We’re marching into nowhere and every footstep places us nearer an enemy we can barely touch. Hardly matters how few of them there are, assuming that piece of intelligence is remotely accurate. Until we get to this city, they don’t have to meet us head on, do they?’
Hynd rubbed his hands over his face. ‘All right. I’ll go and talk to Lockesh. So long as you stop whining.’
Jeral chuckled. ‘I can promise you a lot of things but don’t ask that of me. After all, what would I have left then?’
‘Companionable silence.’
‘I am loyal among the faithless. I am the truth among lies. I am the word among savages. I walk through history and I am the future. I am the first breath of the new born. I am the last and fatal blow for the dead. I am the Arch of the new immortals.
‘I am complete.’
The last of his paint was across his chin. Takaar stood in the wet dawn of the new day and his nostrils were full of the glorious scents of Ix and her energies.
Who is it you are today?
‘I am Takaar and I am the first of the Il-Aryn.’
And the camouflage…
‘Today we fuse magic with the art of the warrior. Who better to teach this than he who walks among the gods.’
Dear Yniss preserve us, this is going to be good.
‘You think me unsound of mind?’
Well, you’re still talking to me.
‘But for all you are ever present, you missed my walk into the light of knowledge as we all slept.’
Please go on.
‘The path is clear. The learning shall be swift and the rise of the Il-Aryn assured.’
Which I presume means you’re taking your leave of your poor confused followers.
‘You’re wrong. They believe in me.’
They believe in Onelle. They are wary of you. This little act should tip them right over the edge.
‘I am the only one who can school them. The only one who can save them.’
Save them from what?
Takaar smiled and began walking back to the camp perched on the banks of the River Shorth.
‘Save them from the Il-Aryn, a power that will consume them unless they can truly accept it.’
What are you talking about?
‘Listen and learn.’
I hate you when you’re like this.
‘Then I am truly One today.’
The Senserii were loading the boats and organising a simple breakfast soup of root vegetables, guarana and bright-smelling herbs. The students were awake and most of them were out of their hammocks and gathered near the cook fire. The first one to see him started visibly, shuffling back into his friends before tugging the shirt of the nearest. The desultory conversation ceased, smothered by a sense of unease.
Oh brilliant. You’ve got them right in the palm of your hand now.
Takaar hissed then covered it with a smile.
‘If my appearance surprises you, then you must brace yourselves for greater shocks to come. I have awoken this day and the knowledge you must possess is within me. I will bestow it upon you. The path will not be easy. Some of you may fail. But for those who succeed, your names will resonate through the millennia.’
Takaar walked towards them, his arms open and welcoming. But they did not respond with the beatific smiles he had anticipated. No matter. Instead, they bunched a little closer together and looked to the leader within their midst. He moved to the front of the group. Takaar blessed him with a nod of approval. A talented young ula with an odd name… what was it? Ah, yes, Drech.
‘My Lord Takaar, I’m… confused. We’re confused.’
‘All will become clear, my student.’
Drech’s smile was halting. ‘Yes, of course. But are we now to learn the way of the TaiGethen? Your camouflage…’
‘Ha! Yes.’ Takaar clapped his hands. ‘You are right to think that way because, at its heart, an understanding of magic is a combat as keen as any TaiGethen blade.’
‘Surely we have already understood-’
‘You have understood nothing!’ spat Takaar, feeling their fear and bewilderment as food in his gut. ‘You do not know why the shield failed at Aryndeneth. I do. You do not know why our magic cannot match that of the humans. I do. And I can teach you, but it will be a fight. I have won that fight-’ Takaar smiled and allowed himself an expression of superiority ‘-but I am TaiGethen.’
Drech looked round at his peers and none of them possessed the spark of understanding. Takaar huffed and his frustration began to grow. His tormentor was chuckling. Takaar tried to ignore him.
‘Surely we are travelling to become, as you explained, the teachers of the new Il-Aryn,’ said Drech. ‘We can already help them to an awareness of the power within them, teach them about shapes and stamina. Where does combat fit in?’
