And when at last he stood there, gazing down at his own lonely grave, his tears fell unchecked from his cheeks, patterning the dirt at his feet. He knelt down and brushed his hand across his grave, knowing he could touch his own bones, see his own body and face. Take a good look at the true Unknown Warrior, whose body lay where his soul wanted to be. At rest. Free.
He breathed deep and closed his eyes, placing both hands on the grave. He dropped his head to his chest.
‘By north, by east, by south, by west. Though you are gone, you will always be Raven and I will always remember. Pity me that I breathe while you do not.’ He fell silent, unwilling to move. Knowing he had spoken the mantra to a soulless bag of bones but finding a curious peace in the Vigil he held.
Eventually, reverently, he stood up and backed two paces from the grave before turning towards the Manse. In front of him stood a Protector, Cil, and behind him, all of them. Silent ranks of understanding and respect, impassive behind their masks but with their minds ablaze at the wrong The Unknown suffered.
Unable to speak, Cil placed a hand on The Unknown’s shoulder and squeezed, his head inclined very slightly. The Unknown locked eyes with him for a moment, then looked past him to those behind, a shiver running through his back at the power standing there in utter quiet. His eyes misted again, this time in gratitude.
‘You can escape your calling,’ he said. ‘But the price is high, believe me. The pain of separation is great. I can still feel you though I can’t be with you. Your choice will come.’
He walked through the Protectors who turned and followed him back to the Manse. His choice was made but, leaving his grave without another glance, he realised he had another but he had no idea whether he had the courage to make it. Time, as always, would tell.
‘If you think you’re taking hundreds of Protectors through the rip, you’re wrong,’ said Hirad once Denser had summarised thus far his fruitless discussions with Styliann. The former Lord of the Mount had flatly refused to let the Raven mages have sight of Septern’s texts and Hirad considered it was only a matter of time before Styliann decided he could create and cast the magic himself. Hirad, like the rest of The Raven, was uncomfortably aware that they were hopelessly outnumbered.
‘I would be keen to hear how you propose to stop me,’ said Styliann.
‘It isn’t a question of what I can do now,’ said Hirad. ‘It’s a question of what the Kaan will do when you arrive. They don’t need your Protectors and what they don’t need, they tend to destroy.’
Styliann gestured around him. ‘Destroying almost five hundred Protectors isn’t easy.’
Hirad stared at him. He felt a constraining hand on his shoulder. Ilkar’s. He nodded and breathed deeply before speaking.
‘You saw the size of Sha-Kaan, Styliann. He could do it on his own and you know it. I am just trying to save you wasting their lives, such as they—’
The Protectors moved, came to attention and marched slowly away towards the long barn, Cil at their head. Denser and Styliann stared slack-jawed. Hirad, when he realised where they were going, chuckled.
‘Perhaps they won’t listen to you anyway,’ he said, breaking the spell of silence.
‘Come back!’ ordered Styliann. ‘Now. Cil, you know your calling. Return to my side or face your nemesis.’
‘I don’t think you want to do that,’ said Denser quietly.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Styliann stared on at the retreating backs of his erstwhile Protectors.
‘You heard me,’ said Denser. ‘It would make The Unknown very angry. And right now, you’re very much alone. They’ll come back.’
And come back they did, with The Unknown at their head, his face set, his determination returned.
‘I take it we’re ready to go,’ he said. ‘Styliann, you may take six Protectors with you. The rest will guard the Manse.’
Styliann’s jaw moved but no words came. His face, flushed and reddening, quivered with rage.
‘Guard against what, exactly?’ asked Hirad.
‘I may? Who, by the Gods bleeding, are you to tell me what I can and cannot do with my Protectors?’
‘You will understand soon enough,’ said The Unknown shortly.
‘Unknown,’ said Hirad. ‘Guard against what?’
‘The Wesmen are coming here,’ said The Unknown. ‘They must not bury the entrance to the workshop or we will never get back.’
‘Why would they do that?’ asked Ilkar.
‘Julatsa has fallen,’ said Cil, breaking the conditions of his thrall. ‘They know everything.’
‘How could you possibly know?’ demanded Ilkar of Cil. ‘I have felt nothing.’ His voice was desperate, his eyes searching that mask for any clue and his ears reddening as he fought the emotion that washed over him.
‘And maybe you won’t,’ said Styliann. ‘Your mages fell one by one under the swords of the Wesmen; their mana ripples won’t combine. And we must presume the Heart was successfully buried. I am truly sorry Julatsa has fallen but perhaps you are the lucky one. After all, you are about to leave this dimension.’
‘Lucky?’ spat Ilkar. ‘Those bastards have destroyed the home of every living Julatsan. Lucky, my arse.’
Denser cleared his throat. ‘Styliann’s words were ill-judged but accurate, I suspect. Any ripples through your spectrum at all are unlikely to carry as much force where we are going.’
‘Well you’d better hope there’s some, otherwise this spell, whatever it turns out to be, won’t get cast.’ Ilkar stared meaningfully at the sheaf of papers in Styliann’s hands.
‘Eh?’ Hirad frowned.
‘No ripples, no mana,’ explained Erienne.
‘It’s all irrelevant conjecture,’ said The Unknown. ‘What we have to do is go. Now.’
‘Not until I find out how you know Julatsa is lost,’ said Ilkar.
‘Cil, you may speak freely,’ said Styliann, plainly interested. Cil was silent for a time, his breath controlled as he thought through his reply. When it came, it was short and efficient.
‘The demons are watching. When we are together as one, we can sense what they see.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Styliann. ‘The side-effects of creation are an endless surprise.’
‘Enjoy them while you can,’ said The Unknown, his face a blank to mirror the masks of his former brethren.
Styliann half smiled. ‘Are you threatening me, Unknown?’
‘Call it heartfelt advice.’
Hirad came to The Unknown’s shoulder and demanded attention. ‘All right, that’s enough playing around. There’re a few things you should know, Ilkar and Denser excepted, about what happens when we enter the rip.’
He reassured them about the pain of travel, the drop on landing and the devastation of the Avian dimension The Raven had encountered in their search for Dawnthief. He described the walking dead lest they should rise again, the silence though the sky boiled with cloud and lightning above and below, the disorienting height and the other platforms in the sky, standing atop rock columns. And he reminded them that it was Kaan dragons that had caused the destruction and that the same fate awaited Balaia should the Kaan falter or the spell, when it was determined, fail to close the rip.
Finally, he told those that mattered that they were Raven and that, strange though it may appear, not just Balaia but countless dragons depended on their success.
‘And now,’ he said, ‘now we will go.’
But inside the Manse ruins, there was a new problem.
‘What the hell has happened here?’ Ilkar looked squarely at Styliann and away from the open entrance to Septern’s dimensional workshop.
‘It wasn’t always like this?’ replied Styliann, seeming genuinely surprised.
‘No it wasn’t,’ said Ilkar shortly. He crouched by the entrance, set in the middle of the floor. Denser dropped to his haunches by him and was joined by Erienne.
‘I don’t think Styliann is responsible,’ whispered Denser.
‘So
what has happened?’ asked Erienne.
Ilkar scratched his head. ‘Without a key or forcing, there’s only one answer to that. Septern’s spell has collapsed.’
‘A consequence of the rip, you think?’ said Denser.
Ilkar shrugged. ‘Can you think of anything else?’
‘What does it matter?’ said The Unknown. The mages turned to him, plainly irritated at the interruption. ‘The fact is that we can no longer seal the rip against the Wesmen. If they should defeat the Protectors, they can travel it too and I have no doubt that they will.’
‘We can’t afford a Wesmen force in the dragon dimension,’ said Hirad. ‘No matter the power of the dragons, they could still find and catch us.’
Ilkar rose and dusted down his knees. ‘So what do you suggest?’
‘Reinforcements,’ said Hirad decisively. ‘It’s our only option. Darrick must be heading north by now.’ He turned to Denser. ‘Sorry, Denser, but we need a Communion from you.’
The Dark Mage sighed and nodded. ‘What do you want me to say?’
The Raven stood at the rip to a new dimension under a boiling sky and in the remains of the devastated Avian village. Below them, far below them, harsh red lightning sheeted and flared. It was a rip through which only Denser had passed, returning in terror, jabbering about dragons. For Hirad, it was a case of already seen. His union with Sha-Kaan gave him clear visions of what lay before them and, with a memory of curious clarity, summoned a subconscious thought that had lain hidden since Denser’s ill-advised journey. Even then, he realised, he had known he would have to travel the rip himself. To face his nightmares and beat the demons of his mind.
Hirad turned to the company, Raven to the front, Styliann and his six Protectors behind.
‘Are you ready for this?’ He really only asked it of two of them. Of Ilkar, whose courage in the face of the loss of his College was extraordinary but flawed. And of Styliann, whose determination to minutely examine the wreckage of the Avian dimension had frayed tempers during the short walk between rips.
The former Lord of the Mount nodded stiffly. Ilkar managed a smile.
‘As ready as I’m going to get,’ he said.
‘I wish I could say the same,’ said Hirad. ‘Denser? Anything we should know?’
‘Just be ready to fall backwards. The place was a mess and I doubt it’s got any better.’
In fact, it was completely different to Denser’s description. He had spoken of blackened earth, a sky heavy with dragons and fire splashing from the air. But through the rip they emerged inside a cave. And though it was dark where they landed, a gentle grey-green light filtered from around a sharp left-hand corner a few paces ahead of them.
‘What in all the hells is this?’ Denser dusted himself down. ‘The rip must have been moved.’
‘I don’t think that’s possible without the casting mage,’ said Erienne.
‘Well, this bloody rock wasn’t here before.’
‘Anyone got a torch?’ Hirad was smiling.
‘Dare I ask why?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Perhaps the dragons are painted on the ceiling, or something.’
‘You really are hilarious, Coldheart,’ snapped Denser. ‘I know what I saw.’
‘Then,’ said Styliann, the quiet authority of his voice cutting through the still air, ‘someone must have built it.’
Hirad looked askance at Styliann but before he could speak, the power of Sha-Kaan’s mind gripped him.
‘Welcome to my world, Hirad Coldheart. Now you will see what your carelessness has caused. Jatha will guide you from the enclave.’ As fast as the power had come it was gone and Hirad found himself looking into The Unknown’s puzzled face.
‘You all right?’
Hirad nodded. ‘It was Sha-Kaan. He knows we’re here. He—’ He was interrupted by movement from ahead of them. A shadow moved in the light. Seamlessly, The Raven formed up. Hirad, The Unknown and Thraun, responding automatically, unsheathing swords and spacing themselves centrally in the chamber. Ilkar, Denser and Erienne stationed themselves behind. A heartbeat later, the Protectors joined them on either flank.
A short man, simply dressed, and with a sheathed weapon at his side, walked into view. He showed no fear at the line of warriors facing him, his face breaking into a smile above his long braided beard. Hirad relaxed and put up his sword.
‘Jatha?’ he ventured, knowing he was right. The man nodded and with vocal cords sounding unused to regular speech, said:
‘Hirad Coldheart. Raven.’
Chapter 29
The Lord Tessaya received two messages via carrier woodruff within the space of an hour around midday, and they led him to preside over a slaughter he had thought to avoid.
The first message, from the remnants of Taomi’s force fleeing north-west towards Understone, confirmed all his worst fears about the state of the invasion of Gyernath and the defiance of the Baron whose wine he so enjoyed. But worse, it informed him of the destruction of the southern supply base and that Darrick not only still lived but still fought hard.
And the second, while giving him the news he had craved from Julatsa, left him plagued with doubts because it spoke of a small force breaking through the siege line a few hours before the College fell. It spoke of a mission to a land of dragons, it spoke of cataclysm and death from the sky greater than any the Wytch Lords might have unleashed. And, coming so hard on the heels of the rout of his men chasing the cursed Xetesk mage, he felt uncertain for the first time since he rode from his village.
Hating himself for doing it, he called on Arnoan to help him. The two men sat inside the inn, ate and talked, the old Shaman’s eyes sparkling and mischievous. Tessaya knew Arnoan felt a great wrong had been righted and was happy to let the idea ride.
‘It will pay you to be calm,’ said Arnoan, breaking bread and soaking it in his broth.
‘Calm?’ echoed Tessaya. ‘The Raven, damn them, have escaped a siege city and apparently go to speak with dragons, to form an alliance against me. Styliann and his dread force which now numbers somewhere around five hundred have massacred, massacred, thousands of my warriors at precious little cost and, if my scouts are correct, appear to be travelling to meet The Raven. And now I find my southern brethren are fleeing from a town they thought was theirs and have now been forced to destroy to prevent its recapture. Their spirit is broken and those that are left are coming here expecting my sympathy. Something they will not get.
‘This is not a situation in which I see any reason to remain calm.’ He drained a goblet of wine, Blackthorne red ironically, and refilled it, pushing a hunk of bread into his mouth with his free hand.
Arnoan smiled gently. ‘But how much of it is true, my Lord? Darrick and Blackthorne, yes, I can see that. But dragons? And death from the sky? Are we not beyond these wild stories? I rather suspect that much of Senedai’s report is the hysterical claims of a mage knowing his life is about to end and wishing to strike fear into his tormentor.’
‘He succeeded.’ Tessaya regarded Arnoan over the top of his goblet.
‘But we must discount dragons. They are creatures of nightmare with no hold on the real world. They do not exist,’ said Arnoan.
‘And supposing I accept that, why did The Raven leave, and where are they going? And why has Styliann not remained in Xetesk to defend his own city, taking with him their prime fighting force?’ Tessaya drummed his fingers on the table.
‘It seems clear to me that, knowing the College was falling, The Raven ran. They have no allegiance, they are mercenaries,’ said Arnoan. Tessaya almost smiled, though irritation at the Shaman’s dismissal of circumstance lent his mood anger, not levity.
‘I would sooner believe dragons exist than that The Raven ran from a fight. Don’t try to smooth over what is going on. Senedai’s message was quite clear that they broke through with the aid and, I must presume, the blessing of the Julatsans.’ He held up his hand to silence Arnoan’s next utterance. ‘Something is going on. I can feel
it. And we are sitting here just waiting for the storm to break. I will not wait any longer.’
‘We can track them and watch them as we are doing now,’ said Arnoan. ‘Understone is important to us. We must not desert it.’
‘Perhaps you have lost your stomach for the fight now you are toothless, my Shaman, but I have not.’ Tessaya’s voice was quiet and cold. ‘Let me tell you the way it is. The Raven are riding to parley with dragons and if not them, something equally powerful they believe can stop us. Styliann and his bastard creations will join them. At the very best, if we do not hunt them down and kill them, they will advance the defence of Korina and I do not want that. At worst, they might just find an ally we cannot beat.
‘Lord Senedai has treated it seriously enough to give chase with much of his army, Lord Taomi is running here with Baron Blackthorne and perhaps General Darrick in his bootprints. Our goal is to control Balaia through the capture of the capital and we will not achieve that sitting here waiting for Taomi to lead trouble to our door.
‘You will instruct Riasu that he is to man the eastern fortifications of Understone Pass. No mage must get close enough to cast the water magic. He has enough men and he can call on the reserve. We will march first to The Raven and then to Korina. Time is slipping from us, my old friend, and we must grasp the opportunity while we still have it.’
Arnoan was quiet for a time, sucking his top lip and nodding his head as he thought. ‘It is a bold move, my Lord. But what of Understone itself? We have expended such effort securing it.’
Tessaya glanced around him at the almost complete stockade and tower system. He shrugged. ‘Its purpose has been served. It has kept us safe and our warriors busy. We are under no threat of losing the pass again. The Colleges do not have the will now that Julatsa has fallen and Styliann is absent. We will leave it.’
‘For Riasu?’ said Arnoan.
‘No.’ Tessaya shook his head. ‘We will leave no building standing. ’
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