'The reserve,' he said. 'See it is sent to Julatsa with all speed. I will be writing a letter to the acting High Mage, Pheone. We have one of our own that needs to be returned to the bosom of the college.'
*
Dystran could still not believe what was happening. He stared at the Wesmen army that was organising itself outside his college. Carefully out of spell range, they calmly pitched tents, lit fires and fashioned battering rams and ladders. He shook his head, rested his elbows on the wall, and rubbed his face in his hands.
It wasn't just the enormous numbers of men that were being assembled, it was the mode of their attack. They hadn't, as in years gone by, thrown everything they had at their enemies, only to be beaten back by spell and arrow.
Instead, they'd hurled abuse for a while and now this. They were having a party outside his south gates. It couldn't have become much worse except that his Communion team had just reported the final defeat at Julatsa. His men were routed and fleeing south even now.
'I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies,' said Dystran.
‘Ibeg your pardon, my Lord?' said Suarav.
'At least Chandyr is bringing some people back,'
'We can keep them from the walls, my Lord,' asserted Suarav.
'How many fighting men do we have in the city right now, Captain?'
'Two, maybe three hundred.'
'And how many mages of any real experience?'
'Forty or so, my Lord.'
Dystran could see light dawning over his face. It wasn't a pretty sight. 'They have three or four thousand out there. They fear magic but it won't stop them. If they get over these walls or through those gates, and I don't doubt that they will try very, very hard, they will sweep through this city like a dose of the shits, do you understand? I suggest you go and read up on their normal tactics. It might tell you something.'
'Yes, my Lord.'
'Lucky I've got another dimensional team in the catacombs, isn't it? I wonder when the next conjunction is.'
The mood of celebration had taken hold though it was tempered by the numbers of dead. Sixty Al-Arynaar warriors had perished, along with twenty mages. Another twenty would not make the trip home to Calaius. Commander Vale had died too, in the gateyard. He'd dived on an elf as a Spell had struck and taken the full force himself. Arynaar would respect him for it forever. Auum, Duele and Evunn had survived, a testament to their extraordinary awareness or eacn other as much as anything. They were three of just five Tai-Gethen. And just a single ClawBound pair remained. They mourned their fallen alone.
But there remained a feeling of intense satisfaction around the table in the refectory. Hirad sat with his head and chest bandaged, a goblet of wine in his hand. Surrounding him were The Raven minus a sleeping Erienne, Rebraal who had more bandage than skin showing, AuUm and his cell, and Pheone.
Ilkar will be watching,' said Denser.
'He'd bloody well better be,' said Hirad. ‘Idon't do this sort of thing just anyone.'
'Feel better now it's done?' asked The Unknown. 'Any of that anger left you?'
Hirad chuckled. 'Some of it,' he said. 'I'm glad it was the Xeteskias we walloped to get here, though. They owe us.'
'They have paid,' said Thraun abruptly.
I'm almost prepared to believe anything you say,' said Hirad. 'Do you remember any of how or what you did?'
Thraun looked troubled and shook his head. 'Not how,' he said. 'Seemed… right.'
The Unknown raised his eyebrows. 'Really? I thought that side was closed to you. What made you do it?'
'No choice,' Thraun said and looked at Hirad. 'Sometimes we must all do that which we fear to save those we must. And we must all come to terms with the pain we carry.'
"hat are you looking at me for?' asked Hirad.
'Tney have paid,' repeated Thraun. Hirad held up his hands. 'I'll see what I can do.'
'So that's next for the Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen?' Darrick's question turned all their heads.
"0ltie,' said Auum. ‘Ihate this place.'
Tnere was not the hint of a smile on his lips but Hirad laughed anyway, 'To the point as ever. You too, Rebraal?' *es- There is so much to do, so much to rebuild. Think of the warriors and mages we have lost. We must rebuild our orders or this will happen again.'
'I doubt it.'
'We doubted it could ever happen in the first place,' said Rebraal.
'Point taken,' said Hirad. 'Unknown, fancy a trip south?'
'Try and stop me, barbarian. I've got a wife and son I have to see.'
'Then we should all go,' said Denser. 'Erienne will want to visit Lyanna's grave on Herendeneth. So do I.'
'How is Erienne?' asked The Unknown.
Denser grimaced. 'You know I have absolutely no idea. Has she won her battle with the One? I doubt it. Does she know what she did today? Yes, I think so. But what effect it will have on her when she wakes, who knows?' He looked at them sadly. 'Some parts of her mind are closed to me. To all of us. Like Thraun says, we have to come to terms with the pain we carry. It's her turn now, I think.'
'What was it all about, her and the Heart?' asked Hirad.
Pheone answered for Denser. 'The Heart was… infected, if you like, while it lay in the pit. And though mana, in the form of the raising was the only thing that could stop that infection, it also encouraged the infection to flourish. Erienne held the infection at bay, channelled it into herself to kill it, while we raised the Heart. Julatsa is forever in her debt. And yours, all of you.'
'No you aren't. All we've done is what Ilkar wanted,' said Hirad. 'That's enough.' He paused. 'Right then, unless there are any dissenters, The Raven will travel south. And say nothing, General, everyone here wants your head, after all.'
'And yours now, no doubt. I will admit it is an enticing prospect, sleeping without the axe hovering.'
Hirad pushed back his chair and stood up. 'Funny isn't it. We've spent the last, what, six and a bit years saving this ridiculous country from everything that's been thrown at it and all they want to do is kill us. Perhaps we shouldn't ever come back.'
'You would be welcome on Calaius,' said Rebraal.
'In a city,' added Auum and there, at last, were the corners of his mouth turning up. 'I'm not sure the rainforest is ready for you just yet.'
'We'll think about it,' said Hirad. 'Right now, I need some air.'
He wandered out of the refectory, feeling exhausted. It should have been night time from the effort he'd exerted today but it could only be mid-afternoon. He walked across to the Heart casing and looked at its carvings. The column, some eighty feet high, stood proud against the night sky. He felt intensely sad that Ilkar hadn't lived to see his college reborn but he was sure that, in some way, he would know. And Julatsa would remember him always.
'This is for you, old friend,' he said. 'We did it for you. I hope you like it.'
Hirad scratched at his bandages and headed off towards the gateyard, feeling the need to see if there was anything he could do. He didn't know why but it just felt right. Izack's cavalry and the remaining city guard patrolled the walls, and Al-Arynaar filled the gap where the gates had been, just in case of another attack. Somehow Hirad doubted it. Izack had chased the Xeteskians clear out of the city and the last patrols back that night had reported them reformed and heading south, back to Xetesk.
Outside, the city would be coming to terms with the legacy it had bestowed upon itself and that would be worth hanging around to see. Somehow, though, he didn't think the elves would want to stay for the reckoning.
The dull thud in his head eased as if a balm had been spread across his brain. Feelings of warmth and the smells of humid air and cold white stone filled his senses. He could touch the air passing over a wing and feel the touch of a kin after so long apart from so many. And he could hear the distant roars of greeting. A sound he never thought would reach him again.
Hirad smiled and let the sun play over his face.
'Home at last, old friend,' he said. 'Ho
me at last.'
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-bf2c8c-ca8b-c642-7490-a1ef-fc74-30608d
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 22.08.2010
Created using: Fiction Book Designer software
Document authors :
Source URLs :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
Shadowheart lotr-2 Page 48
