The Tai knelt at Duele's feet while the Al-Arynaar worked on him, doing whatever they could.
'Yniss, our Tai lies before you, broken. His fate is in your hands. It is you who will call upon Shorth or keep him behind you. We are ever your servants and do your work without question. Keep Duele with us. Let Shorth wait for him. We will let your wisdom guide us and will never turn from the path. But . . .' Auum breathed deep. Evunn's arms were about his neck pulling him close, their heads on each other's shoulders. 'Do not take from us the best of us, we beg you. His soul is pure. He must run with us, not the ancestors, not
yet. Save him. Do not let Shorth take him: We are your servants, Yniss. Hear us in our time of direst need. Hear us.'
Auum rose to his feet, Evunn supported him. He wiped the tears from his face and felt the weight of despair crushing him. He knew before he looked into the eyes of the healers what he would find. But Duele was still breathing. Indeed his eyes blinked open. Auum's heart raced with brief hope.
'He is dying, isn't he?'
The mage nodded and Auum's heart faltered. His mind was suffused with a rage he had little desire to control.
'His chest cavity is crushed beyond repair. His lungs are ruined and his heart is pierced. He should have died when he was struck but his will is so strong,' said the mage. 'Had we been standing over him then, we could not have saved him. I am sorry.'
'Do not be so,' said Auum. 'You are blameless.'
'He feels no pain. You should talk to him now. There is little time.'
The mage moved aside, ushering the others with him. Auum and Evunn stood together in Duele's eyeline, watching his deliberate movements. He raised his hand a couple of inches. Auum grabbed it and squeezed hard. Duele licked his lips, smearing drying blood. His eyes opened, lids flickering a little. He frowned again, trying to focus.
'Yniss takes me for another purpose,' he managed through wheezing breaths. Every word stung Auum with its optimism. 'Shorth is waiting. I can feel him.'
'So it is, my Tai,' said Auum. He swallowed hard.
'Don't grieve,' said Duele. T go to the ancestors.'
'It is a journey we had pledged to take together. All three,' replied Auum. He gripped Duele's hand harder. 'You were always the best of us. Yniss sees it. Do this for me. Seek the one who seeks Rebraal and Hirad. Seek Ilkar. Shadow him. Protect him. Show him the path.'
'I will, Auum.' Duele coughed blood and smiled. 'Always orders.'
'Not orders. A request. A hope.' Auum leant in and kissed Duele's lips. 'Goodbye, Duele. Until we meet, be strong. Serve Yniss. Find Ilkar.'
He withdrew, letting Evunn take Duele's hand.
'Forty years TaiGethen,' Evunn said. 'Forty years as one.'
'And not a day's regret,' said Duele, his voice faint and rasping.
'There should have been forty more.' Evunn's voice quavered. 'This is not right. This is chance.'
'It is all Yniss's design. We are his servants.'
'Yes and we—' Evunn paused. Auum saw his shoulders sag. Evunn leaned in to kiss the Tai. 'Shorth show you the glory you deserve, my friend.' He laid Duele's hand by his side and turned to Auum, his voice breaking. 'He is gone.'
Auum moved back to Duele, standing opposite Evunn. He took the pouches of paint from his belt and the two of diem re-applied the hunting colours to Duele's face, taking exaggerated care over every detail, leaving no part uncovered. Auum drew Duele's twin short swords and placed one in each of his hands while Evunn unsnapped his jaqrui pouch and laid a whisper crescent high on his broken chest.
'Where you go now, you go armed,' said Auum.
'Fight well,' said Evunn. 'Fight strong.'
In silence, the surviving Tai painted each other's faces, speaking quiet prayers to Yniss to watch over them all, for Tual to keep them strong and for Shorth to take their enemies quickly. Eventually, Auum addressed the chamber; three Al-Arynaar mages and a Xeteskian warrior.
'No one will touch him until we return. He will remain as he is with no covering. He is of the TaiGethen elite and he still performs the work of Yniss. Evunn, come. We have the memory of our Tai to honour. There is cleansing to be done.'
They ran through the maze, their direction unerring. In the dome, Dystran moved to stand in front of the great doors. Outside, Auum could hear the shrieks of countless demons. Their calls of triumph and mastery; and their promises of failure and enslavement. Auum recognised Dystran instantly. He had no quarrel with the man. Not now in the moment of the greatest need of all Balaian races. Another day he would have killed him for his crimes against the elven nation.
'Move,' he said.
Dystran smiled indulgently. T understand your pain . . .'
'No you do not, human.'
'. . . but I cannot let you out there. You will be killed.'
Auum felt the blood drain from his face. He took a pace forwards.
'Move,' he repeated.
Dystran held up a hand to stop his guards closing in. 'Idiots. How close do you think you will get?'
'We have prayed,' explained Auum, fighting for the words and to retain his calm. 'Now we honour our dead and cleanse our minds.'
'How?' asked Dystran. 'There is nothing outside but death and demons.'
'Leave open the doors and watch,' said Auum. 'Move.'
Dystran clearly knew he would not ask again. He shook his head and stepped aside, nodding to his men. The doors swung gently open.
'Tai, we move. Tual will guide our bodies.'
Auum walked calmly out into the cold fresh air. Cursyrd cavorted in the air over the courtyard. Karron had beaten down the gates and were gathered by their shattered remains. A tentacled master floated serenely overhead. All eyes fixed on the TaiGethen pair moving into their midst.
Auum walked to the edge of die steps, well beyond the periphery of the ColdRoom shell. He spread his arms wide, his head was cocked to the heavens. He felt the desire then, the craving for absolution. Duele would be watching them.
'I am Auum of the TaiGethen. I stand with Evunn and in the presence of Duele. You know us and you know our calling. Today, you took from us. And for such action, there must be recompense. Which of you will offer yourselves to honour our dead? Which of you will journey with Duele to face the judgement of Shorth? Which of you will send us before him? I, Auum, am waiting.'
T, Evunn, am waiting.'
Screeching with pleasure, the cursyrd descended.
The pressure on the ForceCones was intensifying. Reavers had torn away windows and ripped timbers and stone from the roof. Only the spells kept them out now. At ground level the situation was no less difficult. WardLocks and investitures bowed under the incessant hammering of the karron. Yellow mana light crackled across
groaning joints. Plaster castings cracked and crumbled, thudding to the floor.
The Al-Arynaar waited, their calm spreading to all but one corner of the playhouse. Hirad wasn't hearing the roar of the demons gathered outside, baying for their souls. He was stalking around Rebraal, whose leather and shirt lay on the floor nearby. Denser and Pheone were studying him. Both had hands on his right arm and chest, their eyes closed as the mana probed his badly bruised body.