moved.’
‘There are too few of you. Not enough to stop what is coming.’
‘Go home, ula. Look to your real enemies. Those within your ranks who desire war and care nothing for your soul.’
Katyett stepped over the ula and reached down a hand. He looked on it with contempt and pushed himself quickly to his feet. Around them, the crowd had closed in, menacing, chanting the names of Tual and Lorius.
‘The time when you can tell me what to think and what to do is gone. Remember that.’
Katyett turned away from him and breasted through the crowd once more, ignoring the resistance, the shoulders turned into her chest and the feet seeking to trip her. In their midst, only one ula had displayed any courage, misplaced though it was. Unfortunately, one was enough.
When she broke through the front rank of the crowd, Katyett saw Pelyn deploying her Al-Arynaar across the temple apron. She stood on the steps just behind them. Katyett trotted up to join her, turning to look down on the gathering from which a little impetus had been taken.
‘Where’s the priest?’ asked Katyett.
‘Still on her way here from the beetle. Or hiding out somewhere until we can organise some calm, if she has any sense.’
‘How do we disperse them?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Pelyn. ‘I will not fire on them and I will not strike them with even the flat of a blade. I know some of these people. Ordinary folk. Woodworkers, bakers and potters. We can’t attack them.’
‘Then we must speak to them.’
‘Think they’ll listen?’
‘Not to me,’ said Katyett. ‘I appear to be of the wrong thread today.’
Pelyn spared her a wry smile. ‘All right. I’ll do what I can.’
‘Talk like Takaar. Engage them.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind.’
Katyett glanced up to the heavens. Cloud was moving in fast, bearing new rain. Those intent on firing the temple would have seen it too.
‘Tais,’ she said, confident the chanting crowd would not hear her. ‘Like in the chamber, watch the torches. Intercept when you must.’
Pelyn raised her hands.
‘Please. Please. Respect the piazza. Let me speak.’
Her voice was lost in the chanting and the howling of the crowd. Katyett clicked her tongue and the TaiGethen turned to her.
‘Call. Like Takaar when he raced to save his Tai, my friend, lost now on Hausolis.’
Katyett paused then raised her face and hands to the sky, leading her warriors.
‘Jal-e-a! Jal-e-a!’
Over and over, they called her name. Their voices joined, rose and resonated. Reverberating against the faces of the temples around the piazza and echoing into the canopy, where Cefu carried it to the heavens. A haunting sound, capturing the ear of every elf gathered before them. When the last echo of the TaiGethen voices had died away, there was relative silence. Pelyn nodded her thanks.
‘Lorius and Jarinn left the Gardaryn together. Friends just as when they entered but on two sides of a debate. No one denies the passion Takaar inspires—’ she glanced quickly at Katyett ‘—but passion must not be allowed to degenerate into violence and hate. Whatever Takaar’s crimes in your eyes, does this make Yniss and his temple a valid target? We are all the subjects of Yniss.
‘I am Tuali; my Al-Arynaar before you are drawn from every thread. Remember what Lorius said. The harmony must remain. Reduce this to a fight between threads and we risk wiping ourselves out. Just like before, when Takaar rose to save us.
‘Whatever our personal grievances. Whatever we believe the Ynissul to have done while hidden behind the coat-tails of Takaar, we cannot, must not descend into mindless conflict. We must not desecrate the places of our gods. If we rip down temple walls we are all truly lost.
‘I ask you, as your sister, as the leader of your Al-Arynaar, as a Tuali happy to work with every thread to bring our race prosperity and happiness, to disperse. Go to your homes. You really want to destroy a temple? I don’t think
‘There are too few of you. Not enough to stop what is coming.’
‘Go home, ula. Look to your real enemies. Those within your ranks who desire war and care nothing for your soul.’
Katyett stepped over the ula and reached down a hand. He looked on it with contempt and pushed himself quickly to his feet. Around them, the crowd had closed in, menacing, chanting the names of Tual and Lorius.
‘The time when you can tell me what to think and what to do is gone. Remember that.’
Katyett turned away from him and breasted through the crowd once more, ignoring the resistance, the shoulders turned into her chest and the feet seeking to trip her. In their midst, only one ula had displayed any courage, misplaced though it was. Unfortunately, one was enough.
When she broke through the front rank of the crowd, Katyett saw Pelyn deploying her Al-Arynaar across the temple apron. She stood on the steps just behind them. Katyett trotted up to join her, turning to look down on the gathering from which a little impetus had been taken.
‘Where’s the priest?’ asked Katyett.
‘Still on her way here from the beetle. Or hiding out somewhere until we can organise some calm, if she has any sense.’
‘How do we disperse them?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Pelyn. ‘I will not fire on them and I will not strike them with even the flat of a blade. I know some of these people. Ordinary folk. Woodworkers, bakers and potters. We can’t attack them.’
‘Then we must speak to them.’
‘Think they’ll listen?’
‘Not to me,’ said Katyett. ‘I appear to be of the wrong thread today.’
Pelyn spared her a wry smile. ‘All right. I’ll do what I can.’
‘Talk like Takaar. Engage them.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind.’
Katyett glanced up to the heavens. Cloud was moving in fast, bearing new rain. Those intent on firing the temple would have seen it too.
‘Tais,’ she said, confident the chanting crowd would not hear her. ‘Like in the chamber, watch the torches. Intercept when you must.’
Pelyn raised her hands.
‘Please. Please. Respect the piazza. Let me speak.’
Her voice was lost in the chanting and the howling of the crowd. Katyett clicked her tongue and the TaiGethen turned to her.
‘Call. Like Takaar when he raced to save his Tai, my friend, lost now on Hausolis.’
Katyett paused then raised her face and hands to the sky, leading her warriors.
‘Jal-e-a! Jal-e-a!’
Over and over, they called her name. Their voices joined, rose and resonated. Reverberating against the faces of the temples around the piazza and echoing into the canopy, where Cefu carried it to the heavens. A haunting sound, capturing the ear of every elf gathered before them. When the last echo of the TaiGethen voices had died away, there was relative silence. Pelyn nodded her thanks.
‘Lorius and Jarinn left the Gardaryn together. Friends just as when they entered but on two sides of a debate. No one denies the passion Takaar inspires—’ she glanced quickly at Katyett ‘—but passion must not be allowed to degenerate into violence and hate. Whatever Takaar’s crimes in your eyes, does this make Yniss and his temple a valid target? We are all the subjects of Yniss.
‘I am Tuali; my Al-Arynaar before you are drawn from every thread. Remember what Lorius said. The harmony must remain. Reduce this to a fight between threads and we risk wiping ourselves out. Just like before, when Takaar rose to save us.
‘Whatever our personal grievances. Whatever we believe the Ynissul to have done while hidden behind the coat-tails of Takaar, we cannot, must not descend into mindless conflict. We must not desecrate the places of our gods. If we rip down temple walls we are all truly lost.
‘I ask you, as your sister, as the leader of your Al-Arynaar, as a Tuali happy to work with every thread to bring our race prosperity and happiness, to disperse. Go to your homes. You really want to destroy a temple? I don’t think
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