Jysune, no Tai had lifted a finger in further reprisal. In fact, Ulysan had been very particular when he ordered that clearing the ghettos should be carried out within the current laws of Katura. Pelyn had realised, belatedly, why it was being done this way. She signalled Tulan to make the proclamation. His was by far the loudest voice.
‘By order of Pelyn, Governor of Katura, all those in breach of Article Thirteen of the laws relating to manufacture and supply of narcotics are to be removed from their homes. All possessions and land held by such parties are forfeit and to be returned to the people of Katura. All those in breach of Article Thirteen are forthwith exiled from the city and bounds of Katura. Any who return to the city will receive the death penalty.
‘Let this order stand. Let it be carried out this day and all those in breach of it be taken beyond the city limits before nightfall. Any remaining within the city after the sunset must assume their lives forfeit. Any person harbouring those in breach must consider themselves in breach also, and so suffer the same penalties. That is all.’
There were a few cheers and a smattering of applause. Pelyn smiled briefly.
‘Al-Arynaar!’ she called. ‘To work!’
The dwellings of all those accused had copies of the proclamation pinned to their front doors. Those doors not opened at the first knock were beaten down. Six Al-Arynaar worked to clear each house in sequence while the rest remained in support on the street.
There was little trouble. The archers who had escaped Auum’s attack had taken the story of his speed and ferocity back to their people and none wished to suffer the same fate as their erstwhile leader. The occasional scuffle was quickly snuffed out with cudgels and the threat of blades.
It quickly became clear that many had already fled, most likely as dawn broke and the TaiGethen returned to the hall of the Al- Arynaar. Those who remained were herded into the centre of the ghetto, where they endured the abuse of those they had so recently controlled.
Pelyn let it happen. She looked at the faces of the gang. They were downcast, beaten now that Jysune had made her fatal mistake and left them pariahs, hated the most by the one group of elves they least wanted to antagonise. There was an old saying about the fate of any marked by the TaiGethen. Pelyn circled the humiliated gang, happy to remind them of it.
‘ Sithiate, nun hannok thol, TaiGethen.’ The marked shall die, never hearing the TaiGethen come.
Ephram came to her when a hundred and seventy-eight Beethans stood within the ring of Al-Arynaar, all of them waiting for an excuse to exact revenge for Elyss’ murder.
‘That’s the lot of them,’ he said. ‘And it gets better. There’s so much metal here. Stills, stoves, pipework…’
‘Good, although I’m afraid it will never be enough,’ she said. ‘Get them to the gates. With any luck you’ll drive them onto the swords of the very humans they deny are coming. Perhaps they can take the odd one with them. Then send someone to get the collectors up here. We’ll take a break, regroup, then hit the Tualis.’
‘Think they’ll still be waiting for us?’
‘One or two will be. It’s hard to leave all your power behind.’
‘And how are you holding up?’
Pelyn rocked her hand from side to side. ‘Up and down, you know. I could do with a rest and my head is killing me, but I’ll survive. I owe it to Auum. I owe it to all of you. I’ve no idea why any of you are still standing by me.’
Tulan shrugged. ‘Well I can’t speak for the others, but as for Ephram and me, you know why, you must do. You gave us a second chance. We’ll never forget that.’
Pelyn surprised herself by throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I am for ever in your debt.’
‘The way I see it, we’re even,’ said Tulan. ‘Ephram’s over there. Let him take you back to the hall and I’ll deal with all the Tualis. See you after lunch.’
‘You won’t find it hard to clear them? They’re our thread, we three.’
Tulan shook his head. ‘We must be able to cleanse our own or we cannot wear the Cloak. You taught me that. Now go, please.’
Ulysan, with Merrat and Grafyrre, had taken up a position from which they could see the wall of Katura. It was almost three quarters of a mile long with a single set of gates at the centre, a grand sculpted gatehouse surrounding them. All of it was made of wood, all of it vulnerable to man’s magic.
The wall only stretched around the north and west sides of the city. The other two sides were open but nestled against the lake or river, which offered some protection. Ulysan was not concerned about them. The enemy had no boats since they had come inland and attack from those directions was extremely unlikely. It was possible for men to stand across the river and hurl spells into Katura, but it would be simple to evacuate everyone beyond their range. What concerned him more were the land sides.
The forest ended, barring a thin scattering of trees, some two hundred yards from the walls. And while they would line the outer edge of that open space with pits and traps, that would not hold back an army for long. Worse, to the west there was a mixture of forest, farmland and open ground in a strip three hundred yards wide which stretched all the way to the base of the western cliffs. It made them weak.
‘Who’s going to tell Auum there’s not enough iron or steel on the whole of Calaius to do what he wants done?’ said Merrat.
‘I’m sure he already knows that,’ said Ulysan.
‘How is he?’ asked Grafyrre.
Ulysan shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s not returned from the Hallows. I will not rush him. We can handle things here until he gets back.’
Out here in the eaves of the forest the hammering of metal on metal was muted, through it echoed from the cliffs with enough volume to keep Tual’s creatures silent.
‘It doesn’t matter how thin they make it, I can only see us patching the gate and a couple of hundred yards of wall either side. And that’s the absolute maximum we’ll manage.’ Merrat shook his head.
‘Stone,’ said Grafyrre.
‘What?’
‘I know it was dismissed last night but we can’t ignore it. It’s stronger than wood and they have some cement here, though none of them are great masons. If we don’t have the metal, we’ll have to cement and dry- stone the gaps.’ Grafyrre pointed at the open western edge. ‘Particularly over there.’
‘It won’t withstand a barrage,’ said Merrat. ‘But at least it won’t burn or freeze. Ulysan?’
Ulysan didn’t respond at once but began to trot back towards the city.
‘We’ll have to take the trap detail for now, and perhaps some of the food gatherers too. With the quarry across the lake progress will be slow, but I don’t think we have much choice.’
‘I’ll oversee it,’ said Grafyrre.
‘Thank you,’ said Ulysan. He looked over his shoulder into the forest. ‘Take your time, old friend.’
Auum had long since finished weeping over Elyss’ body. He had prayed into the early hours of the morning before leaving the Hallows to let Tual’s denizens begin the reclamation of the body. Elyss lay among those who had slain her, but Auum felt no anger. Her soul had departed to the embrace of Shorth with that of their child. Though their bodies lay near to hers, the Beethans’ souls would travel a very different path.
‘The soul continues; the body must return to that from which it came,’ said Auum.
He had watched dawn break and had heard the city come alive to his orders. He took the opportunity to thank Yniss for the strength of the TaiGethen but he was not ready to return to the city just yet. He found a stream and washed himself and his clothes. Above, rain clouds gathered so he did not dress again; instead standing in a small clearing to let Gyal’s tears bless his body.
Auum felt calm. He dressed in his wet clothes and put his back to a banyan, chewing on a root tuber and a sweet herb while he replayed, over and over, the events immediately after Elyss had been shot. He had assumed rage had driven him but he was wrong.
Something more basic than rage had aided him in those moments — and it had only been for moments. It was a survival instinct, a primal reaction to protect himself and his loved ones.
It had given him the utmost clarity of thought and tuned his senses more keenly than any other moment in his long life. It had given him greater speed of limb too, but the true difference had been in his reaction time. At any other time in his life he would have marvelled at what he had achieved. Today he could only regret the
