The Raven Collection

by James Barclay

  ‘And he’ll need our help too. This is going to be a difficult time. Mostly for Erienne and Denser but we’re all going to need patience and tolerance in abundance. You included.’

  ‘Point taken,’ said Hirad.

  The friends walked on, Hirad seeing a faraway look in The Unknown’s eye. He didn’t think the walk had been just to remind him to keep his temper.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Can you feel those who need you most?’ asked The Unknown.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, do you know inside that they are alive and waiting for you?’ explained The Unknown.

  Hirad shrugged. ‘I guess so. Put it this way, if Sha-Kaan was dead I would feel it.’

  ‘So he isn’t?’

  ‘No,’ said Hirad shaking his head. ‘In fact, he might even enjoy this climate for a time. Heat and humidity. Much more like home.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘You’re thinking about Diera and Jonas, aren’t you?’

  The Unknown stopped and rested against a fallen tree.

  ‘I just want to know they’re all right.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be home soon enough.’

  ‘No, not soon enough,’ said The Unknown. ‘Soon enough is now, today.’

  Hirad walked on, hearing the big man limp after him, his left leg dragging a little.

  ‘And you expected to feel them inside you?’ he asked after a pause.

  ‘I suppose so,’ said the Unknown. ‘Silly, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Hirad put an arm around his shoulders. ‘They’ll be fine. Tomas will have looked after them.’

  They rounded the right-hand corner and crunched across the sand. Myriell was standing there, Ren by her side, looking out to sea. She turned as they approached.

  ‘So, Raven men,’ she said, her voice tired and weak. ‘Why so glum?’

  ‘We aren’t used to failing,’ said Hirad.

  ‘Failing?’ replied Myriell. ‘Who says you’ve failed.’

  ‘Lyanna is dead,’ snapped The Unknown. ‘We came here to save her. We failed.’

  ‘I understand how it looks to you,’ said Myriell. ‘And I understand Erienne’s reaction. It saddens us too that we have lost two sisters. But Lyanna was a very special child and she will never truly be gone. Only her body is at rest.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ asked Hirad. ‘You killed her, didn’t you?’

  ‘She was dead already,’ said Myriell. ‘You have to believe that.’

  ‘It’s Erienne you have to convince, not us,’ said Hirad.

  ‘I know.’ Myriell’s eyes glinted with sudden energy. ‘But you have to understand that you haven’t failed. Far from it. You mark me well, Raven man. You have just secured this world a saviour. And this world will need a saviour, believe me.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Hirad.

  ‘Erienne,’ said Myriell. ‘What she now carries has to be kept safe. It is fortunate the Dordovans thought their job done with the death of poor Lyanna. The One is a power that cannot be allowed to fade from this dimension, not yet. It isn’t easy to describe in words you would understand but the fabric of magic and of the dimensions is strained, out of alignment with the natural order, and the One is the binding. Until that fabric is settled once again, the One is critical to everyone, even those that believe it an evil force.’

  Hirad frowned. ‘So if Erienne dies, the world dies with her?’

  ‘Oh, there would doubtless be a new order but the chaos that would reign across Balaia and interdimensional space would seem like the end of the world to those who witnessed it. Keeping the One in existence for now is infinitely preferable, believe me.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Hirad.

  ‘You don’t, but you will,’ said Myriell, smiling. ‘Now I wonder if you two youngsters will carry me back to the house. I’m feeling very tired.’

  ‘Youngsters?’ said Hirad. ‘She can’t mean you, Unknown.’

  ‘Remember what I told you about my fist?’ said The Unknown.

  They picked the old elf up and chaired her from the beach.

  Once again there are people who have helped smooth the writing process and supplied the right answers when I needed them most. Thank you to Alan Mearns for providing a vital missing link during a walk to the pub in Killarney; to Lisa Edney, Deborah Erasmus and Laura Gulvin for the words they gave me; to Dave, Dick, George and Pete who keep on fighting the good fight on my behalf; and to Simon Spanton, whose support and insight have helped me through what at times was a very difficult year.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Contents

  Dedication

  Cast List

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Epilogue

  For Michael, Nancy and Virginia.

  Finer siblings a brother could not wish to have.

  Cast List

  Chapter 1

  The Unknown Warrior reined in on the crest of a rise overlooking the once tranquil lakeside port of Arlen. In the gathering gloom and encroaching mist, battle raged through its streets. Buildings were burning across the town, a heavy pall of smoke thickening the mist. The thud and crack of spells echoed against the mountains to the north, blue-edged for Xetesk, stark orange for Dordover. The shouts of men and the clash of weapons, muted by the mist, reached his ears.

  In the last two seasons, he had seen and heard plenty of evidence of deteriorating relations between the two colleges but this was infinitely worse. This was war. He’d hoped to get them out before it started. Even thought his plan could bring peace. But here was proof of that folly.

  ‘And you expect us to ride through all that to the dockside?’ Diera was right beside him, her horse nuzzling at his.

  He looked over to her and down to Jonas, his baby son, cradled in one huge arm. ‘I want to know you’re both safe. And away from Balaia’s the only way.’

  ‘Tomas didn’t think so,’ said Diera, wisps of her light hair blowing outside the hood of her cloak.

  ‘Tomas is more stubborn than any man I know,’ said The Unknown, smiling. How hard he had tried to get Tomas to bring his family too, to leave The Rookery they owned together. An inn now ruined by a hurricane. ‘Except one. He’s never left Korina and he’s blinded himself to the disease, the rats and the starvation. He thinks it’ll get better now spring is here. I don’t. I’ve seen Balaia. And it’ll get worse not better. I won’t leave you here. I can’t.’

  Diera shivered, and as if sensing her unease from where he lay in the safety of his father’s arm, Jonas started to whimper.

  ‘Shh, shh,’ he said gently, rocking the child. �
�It’s all right.’

  ‘It isn’t all right,’ said Diera. ‘Just look down there. They’re killing each other and you want us to ride through it.’

  ‘And this is just the start, believe me.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘Please, Diera. War is here. Nowhere on Balaia will be safe.’

  She nodded. ‘How do we get to the docks?’

  ‘On one horse we can ride where ten or more could not but I need you close. Sit in front of me and hold Jonas. I’ll keep you from falling. Try not to be afraid.’

  ‘Don’t ask that,’ she said. ‘I’m terrified. You’re used to the noise and blood.’

  ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you.’

  ‘Better not.’ Her expression softened slightly.

  ‘Just remember to do what I ask. It’ll be difficult down there and there’s no time for debate. You must trust me.’

  ‘Always.’

  She dismounted and he helped her up in front of him before handing her their baby son. He kicked his big stallion to a gentle trot down the slope towards Arlen.

  Riding in from the north-east along a narrow, barely used trail, The Unknown could see the fires of a camp some miles off to the east and a Dordovan column under torchlight heading down the main track into the heart of the port. Xetesk had been in tacit control of Arlen when he put into port two seasons ago and he had no reason to believe anything had changed barring the fact that Dordover was now on open offensive.

  Closer to, the sounds of buildings aflame and collapsing, of spells crashing into structure and soldier and the roar of close-quarter fighting were deafening. Jonas was crying and Diera was rigid in the saddle.

  ‘We’ll be all right,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘Just get us there, Sol,’ she said, trying to comfort their bawling son.

  Entering the town on a dark and shadowed street with the din a terrifying press on their ears, The Unknown snapped the reins.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘It gets tricky from here.’

  He heeled his horse’s flanks and the nervous animal sprang forward. In his ears the clash of metal and the shouts of warriors mixed uncomfortably with the wails from his boy. He fought to keep the horse in the middle of the street, galloping headlong for the docks. He aimed to ride down the eastern edge of the town past the Park of the Martyrs and through the Salt Quarter to emerge at the end of the docks where Captain Jevin had the Calaian Sun at berth.

  But already he could see it would be difficult if not impossible to avoid the conflict around them. To their right, multiple FlameOrbs burned away the mist, their arcs of flight carrying them down to splatter into buildings and onto streets. The flat crack and orange flare of a ManaShield collapsing was succeeded immediately by the screams of those caught abruptly defenceless. Smoke billowed as mana fire gorged on wood and flesh, pouring out of a side street and billowing over rooftops, hemming them in still further.

  Ahead of them, shapes ran, disordered and panicked; townsfolk trying to flee college blade and spell. There were dozens of them led by an uncertain trio of town militia. They were looking behind them more than ahead and all were weighed down by possessions or tiny human cargo. The Unknown cursed, the horse skittish beneath them and slowing automatically.

  ‘Sit tight.’

  The townspeople ran on, all but one heedless of the lone horse as they raced out of town, fear stalking every face below streaks of mud and soot.

  ‘Turn around, the way is blocked!’ yelled one of the militia as he closed.

  ‘The docks,’ shouted The Unknown. ‘Best way!’

  ‘No way,’ came the reply. ‘That’s what the bastards are fighting over. Run, it’s your only chance.’ And then he was gone.

  The Unknown pushed on, Jonas squealing and coughing in turn as the smoke thickened nearer the centre of the fighting. Diera’s face was white and strained.

  ‘Not far now.’

  More stragglers came by them as they rode quickly down the street, the park behind them. Ahead, the low warehousing and packed tenements of the Salt Quarter, once heavy with cargo and seafarers, now blazing in countless places and full of war. From the right, men ran in close form across their path, ignoring them. Dead ahead, fire blew up the side of a warehouse. Timbers creaked and collapsed. There was a roar and the renewed clash of weapons. They were on the fighting now.

  The Unknown swung the horse left, down a narrow muddied lane between two lowering warehouses. Slightly muted for a moment, the tumult of the fighting was brought suddenly and horribly close. Cantering past a crosspath, The Unknown glanced right. The passage was full of men, blades catching the glare of the fires around them as they charged away towards an unseen enemy.

  A heartbeat later, FlameOrbs surged from the gloom and smoke and into the front of the packed line. Fire scorched up walls, tore timbers from roofs, and the impact snatched soldiers from their feet and flung them backwards, human firebrands shrieking as they died.

  It was too much for The Unknown’s horse. Already scared, the stallion jolted sideways and reared high. Caught by the double move, and already compensating to catch the slipping Diera, The Unknown lost his brief fight for balance. But as he fell left and back, he enclosed his wife and son in his embrace and took the weight of the fall for all of them, rolling across his shoulders.

  He grunted, wind knocked from his lungs, pain stabbing through his upper back. The horse bolted back the way they had come. The Unknown carried on rolling, his broad back protecting his family from the wood and dirt firing from the passage. He dragged himself to his feet, bringing Diera with him, swinging her trembling body to face him and seeing Jonas too scared even to cry.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he gasped, forcing air into his lungs, a sheet of pain washing across his ribcage.

  Diera shook her head. ‘What will we do now?’ she asked, pressing Jonas’s head into her chest.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll protect you.’ He stepped back and drew sword and dagger. ‘Do everything I say without question.’

  Diera flinched. His tone was hard, his eyes cold. He knew it worried her but there was no other way if they were to live. He assessed their position. Going on was their only option. Already, survivors were stumbling towards them from the crosspath, bloodied and angry.

  ‘Back away,’ said The Unknown, pushing her gently in the right direction. ‘Don’t run.’

  They’d been seen. Four men with swords ready. Brief guilt surged through The Unknown at the position he’d placed his family in. Others might have been ignored as Arlen townsfolk, but the shaven head, bull neck and sheer size of The Unknown Warrior made him instantly recognisable. And every Dordovan knew with whom he had fought on Herendeneth. Xetesk.

  ‘Running to join your soul brothers?’ sneered one. He was burned across his head but otherwise unhurt. ‘Just that little bit too far away, aren’t they?’

  ‘I’m just taking my family from here,’ said The Unknown. ‘I’ve no fight with you.’

  ‘You’re Xeteskian.’

  ‘I’m Raven.’

  ‘But they aren’t here.’

  ‘Keep clear, Diera,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘And don’t let Jonas see.’

  The Unknown tapped his blade once on the ground and ran at the Dordovans. They hesitated fractionally as he knew they would. It was their undoing. His blade sliced clean into the stomach of the first soldier but was blocked by the second. He fielded a wild swing from the third on the broad hilt of his dagger even as he dropped to his haunches, left leg sweeping out to knock the poorly balanced swordsman’s legs from under him.

  Bouncing up on his right leg, he stabbed straight forwards into the neck of the second, his speed making a nonsense of the man’s defence. Again he was moving as he struck. Left this time, dagger fending off a smart stab to his midriff from the fourth. He turned the strike aside, reversed his dagger and buried it in the soldier’s eye.

  Not stopping, he left the blade where it jutted from the dead man’s s
kull, gripped his long sword in two hands, spun and chopped down through the shoulder of the last survivor as he tried to get up and defend at the same time, succeeding in neither.

  The Unknown knelt to clean his gore-spattered blade on their clothes. He heard shouting close at hand. More Dordovans had witnessed his devastating attack. They were coming left and right, twenty yards distant. An arrow sang past him.

  ‘Dammit.’

  He turned as he straightened, sheathing his blades. Diera was staring at him, her face white and eyes wide. She pointed behind him at the quartet of corpses.

  ‘You—’ she began.

  ‘Not pretty, is it?’ He grabbed her arm and swung her round, starting to run. ‘We’ve got to go. Now.’

  ‘They’re dead. You killed them all.’

  ‘It’s what I do. You know that. Now come on.’

  Almost lifting her from her feet, The Unknown set off down the narrow passageway. The fighting was concentrated to their right around the centre of the dockside, on the other side of the warehouse that loomed dark grey above them. He guessed they had two hundred yards to make it into the heart of the Salt Quarter. It would probably be no safer but they might find friendly blades.

  The shouts of pursuit spilled into the passage behind them. A thud by his head and a skipping off a stone at his feet told him the bowmen had almost got their range. He pushed Diera in front of him, still trying to support her terrified stumbling run, Jonas whimpering again under her cloak.

  ‘Keep running if I fall.’

  Another shaft whistled past his head, burying itself in the wall just beyond. Diera yelped. Ten yards ahead, a turning.

  ‘Go left.’

  He saw her nod. Arrows clattered into the walls behind, another flew overhead. He ducked reflexively, arms coming up to protect Diera. They swung left. The Unknown sensed fighting very close. The passageway ended at a blank wall and went left and right.

  ‘Right, go right,’ he said, pushing Diera ever faster. She half stumbled.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Jonas.’

  ‘Move!’ he snapped. ‘Don’t stop.’