The Raven surrounded Ilkar. He was shaking now and he put his face in his hands.
'Oh Gods, it's bad,' he said.
'What is?' asked Hirad.
'Give me a moment,' said Ilkar.
'What have they gone to do?' asked Hirad, flicking his head at the departed Al-Arynaar.
'Pray,' said Ilkar. 'And if you had any sense, you'd be doing the same.'
Chapter 29.
The bandages boiled once again in the mugs above a small fire consisting mainly of embers. Smoke spiralled into the bright dawn sky, cloud clearing after the latest burst of rain. Yron had made Ben-Foran as comfortable as he could in a cut-in above the sloping banks of the River Shorth late the night before, after walking into the evening only because Ben had dredged energy from somewhere and didn't want to stop.
Yron had boiled the blood-soaked bandages that night and replaced them, and now he was repeating the procedure he still refused to believe was futile. But Ben was dying. The fact would have been obvious to a blind man. His night had been full of delusions. He'd cried out and Yron had forgone any rest to be at his side, to soothe his fears. Infection was setting in quickly despite Yron's best efforts and his knowledge of rainforest herbs.
He'd been without food too. They both had, existing only by chewing on the scraped bark and leaves of guarana, which provided basic energy. It had to be enough. They didn't have the time or the energy to hunt, or forage for anything other than medicinal plants.
And Yron himself was beginning to succumb. His bites from the piranha weren't healing and the insects had done their work too. He thought he might make it back to the ship but only if he was unencumbered. Trouble was, there was no way he was leaving Ben.
While the bandages bubbled, he fed Ben guarana and made him drink menispere to fight the fever. He laid boiled leaves of the same plant on his horrible leg wounds, apologising for the thousandth time as the pain ravaged his lieutenant. But as usual Ben didn't cry out or complain. Indeed he even managed a smile.
Throughout the previous day, as they'd walked with agonising slowness along the banks of the river, Yron's admiration for the young man had grown. His spirit was amazing. Unquenchable. He remained as alert as he could. He still talked, still wanted to learn. Even for a determined soldier like Yron, it was truly inspirational. Ben would be a great leader of men. Would have been.
'You respect them, don't you?' asked Ben suddenly, his words coming through short breaths.
'The elves?'
'The ones chasing us.'
'Oh yes,' said Yron. 'Their skill is extraordinary.'
'They will catch us, won't they?'
'Yes,' said Yron. 'Unless our luck holds, that is. Hard to think we've been lucky so far, but we have. They are utterly ruthless and we have committed a crime that carries the death penalty in their eyes. If they do catch up with us, there'll be no mercy shown.'
'So why do you think they haven't caught us yet?' asked Ben.
'Because they aren't absolutely certain where we're going. When they know, they'll move.' Yron stirred the bandages and began hooking them out. 'And that's the game for us and for anyone else still alive out there if they did but know it. Keep the TaiGethen guessing, keep alive. Simple.'
But it wasn't. Soon, if not already, the TaiGethen would know their exact destination and the ClawBound would confirm it.
'You ready to go?' he asked.
Ben laughed, coughing at the same time. 'Never better, sir. Get the bandages on and let's run.'
'Whatever you say, son.'
Auum completed the prayers and stood, his Tai around him. They turned to the small fire and unwrapped the fish that had been cooking in its embers. Swallowing the succulent flesh, Auum's mood darkened. There were mages out there with the running strangers and though ClawBound and a full Tai had attacked a camp of four, they had not found the mage and the writings were still with him. A scouring of the camp had revealed nothing.
Elsewhere, a mage shielded another band of desecrators from the eyes of the panthers and the TaiGethen. But the two groups with no magical support were caught and dead, their prizes given up and even now being returned to Aryndeneth. But the mages worried him. Because mages could fly faster than a panther could run and a TaiGethen cell track. And on his own, with no companions to protect, a mage might well choose that option. It all depended on his energy in the stamina-sapping conditions of the rainforest.
'Is there a ClawBound near?' he asked.
'Yes,' said Duele.
'Bring them.'
Auum sorted more fish from the fire while Duele was gone and took one of the fresh catch from the pole resting against the tree at his back. He laid it on the ground for the panther, which darted in to snatch it, retreating to the shadows to eat. Auum turned and handed the tall ClawBound elf the baked fish.
'We risk losing our writings and our artefact,' he said. 'You are certain of the direction of travel the strangers are taking?'
The ClawBound elf nodded.
'All the TaiGethen must reach the estuary by the quickest means. The Al-Arynaar must join us. And we will let the desecrators come to us. Tell your people. Spread the message. This must happen now.' He paused. 'And the man who is travelling the east bank of the Shorth. He is too clever. Kill him.'
The ClawBound nodded once more and looked at his panther. The big cat tore another bite from the fish trapped beneath its paws and walked over to him, muscle and bone fluid beneath its glossy black coat. Cat and elf stared at one another in silence, the communication that passed between them in a language and form closed to all but the bound pairs themselves.
And once they were done, they disappeared back into the forest. Auum turned to the Tai.
'Yniss speed us to the mouth of the Shorth before our enemies,' he said.
Out in the forest, the throaty growl of a panther rose in volume and pitch, spanning the miles of land between it and its fellows spread throughout the northern sectors. The growls grew to a roar, climbed to a high-pitched whine and then descended back to the original deep guttural sound before repeating over and over. Within the complex of sounds, Auum knew the message was being carried to his people.
He led the Tai in prayer again before they began their run to the estuary.
Erys flew high above the canopy, following the course of the River Shorth. He had never known such fear in his life as when the elves had attacked their camp. He had been amazed that he had been able to cast but had later reflected that the fear hadn't really settled on him until some hours later. Then, hiding in the branches of a banyan tree, he had shivered and shuddered and tried to still his heart and the moans that escaped his mouth.
He knew he was no coward but it was right to fear something against which you had no defence and no hope. The snakes and lizards that came by him as he sat held no fear whatever. Indeed he had hoped in the dim recesses of his terrified mind that one of the snakes would bite him and he could die in a relatively painless way. But he was no threat to them and so they left him alone.
Eventually, the fear released its grip and he dozed fitfully through the night, tied to the branch on which he had sat all the day. The morning had brought fresh rain and fresh fear but he had been driven by the memory of Captain Yron, exhorting him not to fail. So he had climbed as high as he dared, into the tall exposed branches of the banyan that were the home of eagles. And here he had gathered every scrap of concentration his tired mind could muster and cast ShadowWings to bear him up into the safety of the sky.
He was secure up here but somehow he couldn't shake off his nagging anxiety over what lurked below. The ship was two days' flight away, more like three given his state of stamina. He was having to fly slowly and keep his mind fixed firmly on the mana shape that kept the wings at his back. ShadowWings was such an easy spell to master. Even after half a night's sleep he should have been able to partition his mind enough to think ahead, but it was all he could do to keep from plummeting into the river.
Mid morning, he was looking for a place to land and rest for a while, to refocus his mind. He was constantly staggered by the scale of what lay below him. Right now, the sun was shining fiercely down on the river-veined mat of almost unbroken green that was the forest canopy. It rolled up hillsides and into deep mist-filled valleys from which the light bounced in dazzling rainbow colours. Great faces of rock sheared up, punctuating the green, and he knew that behind him spectacular mountains bordered the forest, silent sentinels gazing down on all they protected.
Blinded by the vastness, he flew lower, travelling directly along the river course and about seventy feet above the water, keeping clear of the overhanging branches that sought to snag him and send him tumbling.
A growl emanated from the forest. From his left and behind at first. And quiet, from a single animal, he thought, and far away. But the intensity gained, the pitch climbed and dropped. It was alien and it sent Erys's pulse racing. Moments later it was taken up by other throats, the calls ricocheting across the rainforest. Birds scattered into the sky, a tumult of wings scrabbling at the air, their squawking momentarily drowning the roars.
But they came again, one very near. Erys rose sharply, the sound uncomfortably close. Looking down as he passed the bank of the river, Erys could see the source. He shivered again at the memory. The panther and elf, standing close, the animal lost in the chorus, the elf listening, intent. Fascinated, Erys circled, watching the pair set off at speed into the undergrowth. He lost them quickly but followed the direction of their travel, moving a little higher into the sky.
He badly needed rest but their movements had worried him. Like they were homing in on something. He flew forward, scanning for a likely quarry, and what he saw almost took the wings from him. In a tiny open space and hurrying to their feet were Yron and Ben-Foran, though something was very badly wrong. Ben-Foran leaned heavily on Yron, who seemed to be trying to push him towards cover.
Erys circled, losing height fast. Yron had half dragged Ben away from the open space. His axe was in his hand and he was searching the forest but it was plain he couldn't see anything. The panther would be on them in moments.
'Oh, hell.'
Erys flared his wings back and landed hard in the clearing, scattering the embers of the dying fire.
'You're looking the wrong way,' he said, already forming the simplest shape next to ShadowWings.
'Erys, I-' began Yron.
'Keep back,' said Erys, took his courage and concentration in both hands and waited.
Not for long.
Eighty pounds of sleek black muscle exploded from the forest. It took a bound to see its target and leapt straight for Erys's throat. The mage almost lost it. Almost. Yellow fangs, long and sharp, mouth gaping and eyes boring into him, the panther powered forward.
Erys braced himself and cast at the instant of impact, his hands clamped around the huge jaws. Fire erupted in the panther's mouth, scorched along its nostrils and into its eyes. The panther howled in agony and rolled off Erys as it landed, running blindly towards the river, dying as it went, limbs beginning to buckle, all grace gone as it blundered into trees and bushes.
An inhuman wail emanated from the forest. It scoured the depths of anguish and dredged pain like Erys had never heard. It was a sound that clawed at his ears and lashed at his mind.
Below, at the river, the panther thrashed and roared, trying to extinguish the magical flame. From the forest stumbled its master. The elf clawed at his face, seeing nothing, his mouth bellowing agony, his legs boneless. He stumbled and fell, arms a blur as they sought to dull the phantom fire.
'Dear Gods.'
Erys scrambled to his feet, a crushing pain in his chest. He looked down on the convulsing screaming body, searching for a way to help. Yron stepped from behind him and smashed his axe into the elf's chest. The screaming stopped, as did the thrashing at the water's edge. Erys took a pace back, gaping at Yron and the dead elf at his feet.
'Believe me,' said Yron. 'You didn't want to face him when his mind cleared. Now tell me you've got enough stamina to help Ben. He's dying.'
'I'll see what I can do,' said Erys, walking to the slope to look down at the body of the panther, already food for piranha. He felt shaken and clutched himself around the chest, taking in a pained breath. 'Trouble is, I think that cat broke most of my ribs.'
Ilkar stood in the temple again with Rebraal. The desire to kill had dissipated but the anger remained. They were shoulder to shoulder not far inside the doors, which had been hastily rebuilt and rehung on the original hinges by the Al-Arynaar, six of whom were now lying inside, the Elfsorrow killing them. Rebraal could not take his eyes from the statue. Ilkar could not take his eyes from Rebraal.
'I understand your anger,' he said.
'No, you don't.' Rebraal stopped but Ilkar knew there was more to come. 'I never dreamed this. We fought so hard, Ilkar; you should have seen the magic and arrows fly. But they were so many. Meru saved me even though he was dying. Even then I thought we had time to regroup and kill the rest. Why did they have to do this? Why this?' He gestured at the disfigured statue. 'Yniss save me but I have failed the elves.'
'Rebraal, you took on one hundred and thirty with nine. At the end they had a hundred dead,' said Ilkar.
'So I failed. And here is the result.'
Ilkar opened his mouth to argue but could see instantly it was pointless. It wasn't Rebraal who had failed, it was the Al-Arynaar as an organisation. They and even the TaiGethen were guilty of complacency. It was tragic that so many elves would pay for the mistake without ever knowing why.
'So let's put it right,' said Ilkar. 'Now.'
'Who did this?' Rebraal shook his head. 'Who did it?'
'I don't know,' said Ilkar.
And he wanted to. Badly. Because if he didn't find out, all Balaia was liable to pay.
'They are your people,' spat Rebraal.
Ilkar regarded him blankly. 'No, Rebraal, they are not. The Raven are my people and we will help you catch whoever did this.'
'You. Your clumsy Raven. Leave it to the TaiGethen.'
'What?'
'They will cleanse the forest and then we will all exact revenge.'
'Dear Gods, no, they won't cleanse the forest. Rebraal, this was no bounty raid. You were attacked by a highly organised small army and they will have serious back-up. Can't you see that? The TaiGethen are brilliant hunters but they're up against something big here and they need to think differently. As do you.'
' "Gods." And which God is it today? Another of the nameless?'
'Who cares, Rebraal? But we need to remake the statue and reclaim the writings. Gods do not enter into it.'
'So you believe.'
Ilkar grabbed Rebraal's shoulders and turned him. 'Listen to me, big brother, because this is how it is. There's a plague engulfing the elven race. Eventually, maybe tomorrow, you and me will both die. Either you can ignore The Raven and trust to your old ways, or you can live in the present and believe the best mercenaries in Balaia can help you. And we will make a difference. We will.'
'Why should I believe you?'
'Because I'm your brother and I only want to help you. Just come and talk to us.'
Ilkar could see the desperation in Rebraal's eyes conflicting with his native pride and mistrust.
'It can't possibly hurt just to listen,' urged Ilkar.
'Quickly then.'
Ilkar smiled. 'Come on.'
Outside, The Raven were gathered in the shadow of the temple. The sky was an unbroken blue above and a breeze was keeping humidity at bay for a few glorious moments. The idyll, however, was broken by raised voices. Hirad and Ren.
'I thought he might be in danger,' protested Ren.
'And you thought the best way to help him was to put yourself, and so us, in the same position, is that right?' said Hirad.
'He needed cover,' said Ren.
'We were providing cover,' snapped Hirad. 'We were shielded, we had a line of swords, we had offensive magic ready to go and, we thought, a bow.'
'You weren't fast enough. He needed quicker help.'
'Gods burning, I don't have to listen to this.' Hirad's face darkened.
'Let-'