of
thanks before taking a sip.
‘We’re in trouble. Whether an invasion fleet is headed this way or not, you’ve seen the effect the rumours have had. Takaar has brought Stein here. Pretty much every Il-Aryn
too. But he needs swords, and that’s why he persuaded the ClawBound to muster the TaiGethen. He says he wants the Al-Arynaar too, and many of them are already with him.’
‘To do what, exactly?’ asked Auum. ‘We already have plans for defending the cities.’
Lysael swallowed the remainder of her wine and headed back to the jug for more.
‘That isn’t what he wants. He’s equipping ships.’
Ulysan coughed, spitting out a mouthful of wine and mumbling an apology. Auum could do nothing but stare at Lysael, trying to unpick the confusion of thoughts crowding his mind. Finally, he
managed to get one of them out.
‘He’s planning an invasion?’
The question sounded ludicrous even as he was voicing it, and he was momentarily happy to see Lysael shake her head.
‘Not even he is quite that delusional,’ she said. ‘Though Yniss knows he’s dangerous when his other voice gets the upper hand. No, it seems he is planning a
rescue.’
Auum put his goblet down, fearing he might drop it if the revelations got any more astonishing.
‘But who is there to rescue?’
Lysael paused as if weighing up what to say, or perhaps how to say it. She pressed her hands together and took a deep breath. Auum frowned, glad he’d put down his goblet.
‘He’s been sending Il-Aryn adepts to train in Balaia.’
‘
What?
’
‘Why?’ asked Ulysan.
‘You’ll have to ask him, but, whatever the reason, now they’re trapped and Takaar wants to rescue them.’
‘Well, he’ll be doing it without the TaiGethen,’ said Auum.
He was finding the whole scene surreal: the wailing out in the piazza a backdrop to Lysael’s words, which echoed in his head like statements of creeping madness. Even the wine tasted
bitter.
‘Where is he?’ asked Ulysan.
‘He’ll be on the docks. He’s stationed himself at the harbour master’s house and he’s using the Herendeneth warehouse for staging people and supplies. The TaiGethen
are there.’
Auum closed his eyes, hoping it was all a ridiculous nightmare. But when he opened them again, the fact that a Stein was here meant that, whatever perverse actions Takaar was taking, the elves
were almost certainly facing a mortal threat.
‘We’d better go,’ said Auum.
‘Front door?’ asked Ulysan.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Auum. ‘I prefer our private route.’
‘Not before we share a prayer you don’t,’ said Lysael. She held out her hands to the TaiGethen and the trio knelt facing each other. ‘And we’d better hope Yniss is
listening.’
Auum felt his heart skip as he reached the docks at Tual’s Wharf by the harbour master’s house. Amid the chaos engulfing the greater part of the docks, as people
sought escape, this was an oasis of industry and organisation.
Laden carts stood by the doors to the Herendeneth warehouse. A chain of workers passed crates, barrels and nets inside. Four ships were tied up along the length of the wharf, their crews busy
organising cargo into holds and checking sails, rigging and timber. Gang masters sang orders, their gangs responded in kind.
Ulysan grabbed Auum and pointed towards the warehouse. Faleen stood in the doorway. At the sight of him, she shouted over her shoulder and ran across the cobbles. Her face was bright with
excitement.
‘So many have come ready to fight,’ she said. ‘It is the greatest muster for seven hundred years. A meeting of friends and a renewal of vows, joy amid the danger. How did you
know to call the muster? I thought you were in Katura . . . What’s wrong?’
Auum took Faleen’s shoulders and kissed her eyes.
‘It is good to see you, old friend. It’s been too long. But I did not call the muster. Where’s Takaar?’
Faleen frowned.
‘He’s inside . . . but . . . He
Learning to Kill: Stories