Read Online Elves: Beyond the Mists of Katura by James Barclay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Barclay
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animals for their rich fur. This time Calaius would be the wealth mine it would already have been but for the cadre’s endless meddling.
But first the elves would suffer, and he would force two of them to watch it all before he freed them. Free to endure their failure for the rest of eternity, to know that their gods had deserted
them. Ystormun had pondered so many excruciating tortures but none other would provide the end he desired for them: endless mental pain, now that was a delicious thought.
Ystormun let their faces play in his memory one more time and their names touched the shaman’s lips.
Takaar and Auum: the twin architects of his diminution. If they still lived, and he had no doubt that they did, he would visit upon them such misery as to eclipse the sun and leave them only
darkness on which to feed. It would be the crowning moment of his life. It would satisfy his every craving.
Ystormun withdrew from the shaman to rest.
He did not hear the shout of warning from the crow’s nest.
Auum spent most of his time in the mainmast crow’s nest because only there could he imagine he was above the canopy, taking in the elements unfettered by his beloved
rainforest. It also gave him peace from the bedlam on board ship. The creaking of the timbers wasn’t as permeating of his consciousness; the rattle of rigging up and down the length of the
vessel was muted by the roar of the wind and the snap of sails in his ears. And he was away from the claustrophobic presence of so many elves in such a confined space.
It didn’t matter that many of them were his people. Enough were Il-Aryn or sailors to ensure he constantly felt uncomfortable. He had trouble sleeping, his appetite was gone and he craved
the room just to
run
.
Auum looked down past the sail canvas to the deck over a hundred feet below. The ship was in a light swell, the yawing exaggerated way up here. Faleen was engaged in combat training with her
Tai, inviting them to attack her two on one. He watched them for a while, smiling at their instant innate balance despite the shifting of the deck at the sea’s whim. Sailors with a lifetime
on the ocean had nothing like the same skill. Such was the talent of the TaiGethen.
Having seen Faleen’s Tai dumped on their backsides twice by their veteran leader, Auum sat down facing aft, his legs stretched out before him. He studied the sky, watching gulls circling
overhead waiting for scraps while the high cloud whipped across the heavens. Three days was the longest Auum had ever gone without feeling Gyal’s tears, and it did nothing to improve his
mood.
Ulysan’s head appeared through the hole in the centre of the crow’s nest, a broad smile on his face.
‘Still alive, then,’ he said.
‘Did you miss the part where I said I wanted total solitude up here?’
‘Nope,’ said Ulysan, heaving his body though the gap. ‘Budge up, budge up.’
‘Beeth drop a branch on your head, Ulysan, what are you doing? I’m trying to think up here.’
‘Carry on, I won’t interfere.’
Ulysan sat down opposite Auum and stared intently at the knots in the wooden frame of the nest. Auum tried to muster some genuine anger but succeeded only in feeling a sense of relief he was not
alone. He scowled at the big TaiGethen nonetheless.
‘All right, what are you really doing up here?’
‘Making my morning report, my Arch.’
Auum snorted to hide a laugh and played his part.
‘Ships still afloat?’
‘All four, skipper.’
‘TaiGethen still on board?’
‘No reports of any individuals attempting the swim home, skipper.’
‘Il-Aryn still puking their guts up?’
‘Unfortunately there has been some improvement in that area. The seagulls have lodged a complaint. We suspect some form of casting might be settling stomachs.’
‘Sorry to hear that but you can’t have everything.’
‘Indeed you can’t.’
The friends fell silent for a time.
‘Thank you, Ulysan,’ said Auum.
‘What
But first the elves would suffer, and he would force two of them to watch it all before he freed them. Free to endure their failure for the rest of eternity, to know that their gods had deserted
them. Ystormun had pondered so many excruciating tortures but none other would provide the end he desired for them: endless mental pain, now that was a delicious thought.
Ystormun let their faces play in his memory one more time and their names touched the shaman’s lips.
Takaar and Auum: the twin architects of his diminution. If they still lived, and he had no doubt that they did, he would visit upon them such misery as to eclipse the sun and leave them only
darkness on which to feed. It would be the crowning moment of his life. It would satisfy his every craving.
Ystormun withdrew from the shaman to rest.
He did not hear the shout of warning from the crow’s nest.
Auum spent most of his time in the mainmast crow’s nest because only there could he imagine he was above the canopy, taking in the elements unfettered by his beloved
rainforest. It also gave him peace from the bedlam on board ship. The creaking of the timbers wasn’t as permeating of his consciousness; the rattle of rigging up and down the length of the
vessel was muted by the roar of the wind and the snap of sails in his ears. And he was away from the claustrophobic presence of so many elves in such a confined space.
It didn’t matter that many of them were his people. Enough were Il-Aryn or sailors to ensure he constantly felt uncomfortable. He had trouble sleeping, his appetite was gone and he craved
the room just to
run
.
Auum looked down past the sail canvas to the deck over a hundred feet below. The ship was in a light swell, the yawing exaggerated way up here. Faleen was engaged in combat training with her
Tai, inviting them to attack her two on one. He watched them for a while, smiling at their instant innate balance despite the shifting of the deck at the sea’s whim. Sailors with a lifetime
on the ocean had nothing like the same skill. Such was the talent of the TaiGethen.
Having seen Faleen’s Tai dumped on their backsides twice by their veteran leader, Auum sat down facing aft, his legs stretched out before him. He studied the sky, watching gulls circling
overhead waiting for scraps while the high cloud whipped across the heavens. Three days was the longest Auum had ever gone without feeling Gyal’s tears, and it did nothing to improve his
mood.
Ulysan’s head appeared through the hole in the centre of the crow’s nest, a broad smile on his face.
‘Still alive, then,’ he said.
‘Did you miss the part where I said I wanted total solitude up here?’
‘Nope,’ said Ulysan, heaving his body though the gap. ‘Budge up, budge up.’
‘Beeth drop a branch on your head, Ulysan, what are you doing? I’m trying to think up here.’
‘Carry on, I won’t interfere.’
Ulysan sat down opposite Auum and stared intently at the knots in the wooden frame of the nest. Auum tried to muster some genuine anger but succeeded only in feeling a sense of relief he was not
alone. He scowled at the big TaiGethen nonetheless.
‘All right, what are you really doing up here?’
‘Making my morning report, my Arch.’
Auum snorted to hide a laugh and played his part.
‘Ships still afloat?’
‘All four, skipper.’
‘TaiGethen still on board?’
‘No reports of any individuals attempting the swim home, skipper.’
‘Il-Aryn still puking their guts up?’
‘Unfortunately there has been some improvement in that area. The seagulls have lodged a complaint. We suspect some form of casting might be settling stomachs.’
‘Sorry to hear that but you can’t have everything.’
‘Indeed you can’t.’
The friends fell silent for a time.
‘Thank you, Ulysan,’ said Auum.
‘What
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