The Raven Collection

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The Raven Collection Page 188

by James Barclay


  ‘Any of you who want to return to rebuild the lives the colleges took from you go with our blessing. But any who come with us will make sure that those lives can be lived in security in the years that follow.

  ‘Who is with me?’

  There were questions, there was suspicion, there was fear. But Avesh was not alone in feeling a surge of purpose. By him, Ellin reached up a hand to stroke his face.

  ‘You must go,’ she said. ‘Avenge our son for me. And when you are done, find me at the broken timbers of our farm and we will start again.’

  Avesh gazed down at her, tears standing in his eyes, and knew he had never loved her more than he did right now.

  ‘I won’t let you down.’

  ‘Just come back to me.’

  ‘You know I will,’ he said and, kissing her gently on the lips, he heaved himself from the ground and went to hear what Edman wanted of him.

  Heryst rode into Dordover with the night full and cool. He and his delegation were tired from the trail but Vuldaroq wasn’t in the mood to give them much time for food and rest. Still feeling dusty, Heryst met the fat red-faced Dordovan Arch Mage in a small warm reception chamber hung with dour portraits and with a roaring fire in a large grate.

  The shake of hands was perfunctory but the wine Vuldaroq gave him was very welcome. The two men sat in large leather chairs either side of the blaze.

  ‘So, come to your senses finally, my Lord Heryst?’

  ‘I have always been in full possession of my senses, Vuldaroq. I had hoped that Xetesk and yourselves might rediscover yours.’

  ‘Exactly what was it you were hoping for?’

  ‘A way to peace through diplomacy, what else?’

  Vuldaroq smiled indulgently. ‘You know I respect your skill as a politician and mage but in this you are being as naive as a child. Surely you cannot close your eyes to what is happening now. Peace is only possible when both sides desire it.’

  ‘I have never been naive, Vuldaroq,’ said Heryst. ‘I simply choose to seek a less bloody path.’

  ‘You think we wanted war against them?’

  ‘I think Dordover was angry enough at its defeat on Herendeneth to view conflict as preferable to negotiation. You as much as they have brought us to this juncture.’

  Vuldaroq was indignant. ‘Preposterous, Heryst. We sought justice for Balaia and the sharing of the treasures discovered on that island.’

  Heryst blinked slowly, having to make a deliberate effort to keep a scornful smile from his lips.

  ‘Who exactly do you think you are talking to here? We formed an alliance, if you recall, with the express intention of stopping the Nightchild realising potential beyond her control. Her death was always a possibility we had to consider. But you had darker motives. Nothing would have survived there had The Raven not intervened, would it? Wasn’t that why you involved the witch hunters?’

  ‘They were the only people capable of finding those we sought.’

  ‘Damn you they were not!’ Heryst spilled his wine on his hand. ‘And you gave Erienne to them. One of your own.’

  ‘A betrayer,’ said Vuldaroq smoothly. ‘A little like your own General Darrick, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Darrick’s actions were regrettable, I admit, but he was not prepared to stand shoulder to shoulder with those who would see us all dead, as apparently you would. He will account for his actions, have no fear. He, at least, is a man of honour.’

  Vuldaroq sipped his wine. ‘And I am not? I and my college, alone, stand between Xetesk and their dominion of Balaia. Remember why we allied. We cannot let the power rest with one college alone; it would return us to the wilderness.’

  ‘I agree utterly. It is the method to use that has been where our differences lie,’ said Heryst, knowing tit for tat accusations would get them nowhere fast.

  ‘And do you also agree that the war, whoever you believe is to blame, now threatens you as well as us?’

  ‘And Julatsa, yes,’ said Heryst. ‘That is why I am here. I am appalled by the actions of Xetesk around Arlen and at their own gates. At least you have respected the rules of engagement and the rights of refugees.’

  Vuldaroq inclined his head. ‘From you that is compliment indeed.’

  ‘I want to make it abundantly clear, however, that I am not proposing a formal alliance,’ said Heryst. ‘But we have a joint obligation to shore up the defences of Julatsa. I also believe we must put in place a blockade of Xeteskian lands to prevent movement of troops and materials.’

  ‘There also we are in accord,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘But how is this not an alliance?’

  ‘Because Lystern is not at war with Xetesk and that is the way I want to keep it. My soldiers will not be under any command of yours. I am suggesting a sharing of responsibilities in order to pressure Xetesk to the negotiating table. I will be telling Dystran the same.’

  ‘Of course, I respect your wishes,’ said Vuldaroq, and Heryst could see the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

  ‘Do not betray this. I will be seeking assurances you will not use this goodwill to advance the conflict.’

  Vuldaroq held up his hands. ‘Heryst, please.’

  ‘Good. I suggest we break and let our respective teams discuss my proposals. We can reconvene later to iron out points of difference.’

  An urgent knocking on the door was followed by two of Heryst’s mages running in.

  ‘Excuse the interruption, my Lords,’ said one, a young mage named Darrow. ‘I have grave news.’

  He looked over to Vuldaroq. Heryst waved him on.

  ‘He will hear it anyway, best first-hand from you.’

  ‘Kayvel has contacted us,’ said Darrow. ‘As you know, Rusau travelled with a Xeteskian force riding to engage the Dordovans at the Dord crossing. It seems he was caught in the middle of the conflict. I’m sorry, my Lord, but he was killed.’

  Heryst closed his eyes. He had feared this. He took a deep breath before speaking.

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘The story we have heard from Dordovans in the field was that he was killed by a Xeteskian pikeman.’

  Heryst dashed his glass into the fireplace. Liquid hissed and spat. He fought to regain control but his mind churned and his pulse ran high.

  ‘He was a diplomat. A neutral,’ he said, hardly able to get the words out.

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘He was also my friend.’ Heryst put his head in his hands for a moment. ‘Are you sure the reports are true?’

  ‘That he’s dead?’ asked Darrow.

  ‘No,’ snapped Heryst. ‘That he died the way it is told.’

  ‘As sure as we can be. He was caught in the battle. In the centre of the line. He was in the way and Xetesk removed him.’ Darrow shrugged.

  ‘But could it have been an accident? Battle is confused,’ said Heryst. ‘You understand I have to be sure. Could it have been a Dordovan pike?’

  Darrow shook his head. ‘No, my Lord. The picture is reasonably clear. A Xeteskian pike was driven through his body from the back. The battle continued. Xetesk pushed Dordover back across the river and their forces are now guarding the whole stretch and apparently sending more patrols out to secure their entire border with Dordover. ’

  Heryst looked across at Vuldaroq, whose expression of sorrow appeared genuine enough, but the Lysternan knew that somewhere in that mind of his he was smiling at the news.

  ‘And what have we heard from Xetesk?’ he asked.

  ‘Denials, as you would expect,’ said Darrow. ‘Kayvel has spoken to the rest of our delegation there and they aren’t under any duress or arrest but the story they are relaying just doesn’t have quite the ring of truth about it.’

  ‘And what is it?’ Heryst straightened.

  ‘That the Xeteskian commander was trying to get Rusau out of the battle and didn’t make it before his horse threw him and he landed on a pike.’

  ‘Pure fantasy,’ muttered Vuldaroq. ‘I am sorry to hear of the loss of your friend, He
ryst, but it casts new light on what we have just been discussing, does it not?’

  Heryst held up a hand to silence the Dordovan Arch Mage. ‘Don’t you dare try to put pressure on me, Vuldaroq. At the moment I am not interested in what you think. Perhaps you would grant me the favour of leaving me for a moment.’

  Vuldaroq nodded and rose. Heryst watched him go.

  ‘This changes nothing as far as Dordover is concerned,’ he said to Darrow. ‘You will continue negotiation as if this desperate event hadn’t happened. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, my Lord, but—’

  ‘But nothing, Darrow,’ said Heryst, keeping his voice quiet. ‘I do not trust Dordover any more than I trust Xetesk and I suggest you take my lead. I want to leave to return to Lystern tomorrow, so the pressure is on you. There, we will find the truth of this. All I will say is that it must hasten our deployment of forces.

  ‘Damn you, Darrick, where are you when I need you most?’

  Chapter 28

  ‘Ow! Dammit!’ shouted Darrick, jerking his leg at the sudden flare of pain. ‘That hurt.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Darrick, but they won’t be persuaded out with softly spoken words,’ said Ilkar. ‘Now keep still, you broke my concentration.’

  ‘Feels like you broke my leg.’

  ‘Well, I can leave them in there if you’d prefer,’ said Ilkar, meeting the Lysternan’s gaze in the firelight.

  Darrick shook his head. ‘What on earth possessed me to join you lot?’

  ‘The glory and excitement,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘That’ll be it.’

  The Raven had stopped for the night before walking to the temple the following morning. They’d endured two days in the dense rainforest which had tested the nerve and patience of them all. Stultifying heat had been punctuated by torrential rain; and the close attentions of seemingly every bug that hopped, crawled, flew or burrowed had been utterly relentless. They’d been tracked by a pack of small wild dogs, had to move their fire pit when an army of ants had chosen their site for a route to somewhere, and had interrupted an enormous constrictor devouring a young adult monkey.

  It was hard to gauge which had been the most unsettling event so Darrick didn’t bother, concentrating instead on Ilkar and his ministrations. He knew what the mage was doing though he could see nothing: targeted needles of mana lancing into his legs to kill the burrowing insects and the eggs they laid. Every tiny wound was cauterised instantly and, with dozens from his ankles to his thighs, Darrick felt like he’d been showered with hot embers.

  He felt a little aggrieved too. In the nightly checks that Ilkar insisted the mages carried out, whereas the others had largely escaped the tunnellers, having bites and blisters instead, he seemed to have been singled out. Unsurprisingly, Hirad found his discomfort a source of some amusement.

  Rebraal, he’d noticed, had looked on with an expression of knowing mixed with distinct satisfaction. He’d concocted an insect repellent herb drink for them all but it only seemed to help the elves. And Thraun, for some reason. All the other humans needed magical intervention and the three mages were beginning to tire from the drain on their stamina.

  ‘You are sure it’s necessary?’ said Darrick.

  ‘Darrick, you have no idea what this country can do to you. How sick you will be if these insects’ eggs hatch. They’ll feed on you until they’re big enough to burrow out. Rebraal has immunity. Wonder why they eat you? It’s because you haven’t.’

  ‘What about the others, are they immune too?’

  ‘No, but you’re just a tastier target. At least you haven’t got boils behind your knees like Hirad. Just keep using the herbs we give you and remember you won’t have to be here for too much longer.’

  Darrick knew Ilkar was right. He’d watched Denser and Erienne looking after cuts, blisters and bites under Ilkar’s instruction and had his share of the herbs Rebraal made them eat, drink and spread on themselves. Rebraal took no healing save for Erienne’s care of his shoulder. He belonged here. The Raven did not.

  Not for the first time, Darrick yearned for the camaraderie of his officers, the obedience and respect of his men and the order of his life as a Lysternan soldier. Trouble was, the pull of The Raven was irresistible. Their energy, their delight in the challenges that faced them. And their belief in what kept them alive. The knowledge that they would prevail no matter what. You couldn’t bottle it, you had to breathe it. And Darrick had breathed deep.

  ‘Whatever you say, Ilkar.’

  Ilkar nodded. ‘And I say quiet to let me work.’

  And in these acts as much as in battle, Darrick understood The Raven. This was no macho brotherhood of arms. This was a group of people who routinely sacrificed themselves for their own. Because it made them stronger. Simple, really.

  That night Darrick slept easier.

  Erienne’s head throbbed. It was an increasing and incessant thump that no spell could diminish. Any energy she had, she spent on keeping The Raven fit. But it was hard. She felt drained and found it ever more difficult to concentrate. Her mind refused to focus clearly.

  At the same time the ache didn’t feel like an illness. She knew what it meant and that soon she would be unable to deny it any longer. The knowledge crawled within her and she hated it. Loved it. Every pulse brought her fresh memories of Lyanna. They had taken on an unusual clarity in the days since they’d left the village. And they were good, as if her mind was filtering the dark visions. Erienne had her suspicions that the Al-Drechar were feeding both the ache and her memories though, in truth, she hadn’t felt them in her mind.

  ‘Are you feeling all right?’

  It was The Unknown, with whom she was sharing the early watch. She’d been asleep but the ache in her head had forced her from her hammock. She found the fire comforting, and next to her The Unknown’s frame represented total security.

  ‘I’ll live,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve been watching you wince,’ he said. ‘Have you told Denser you’re in this much pain?’

  Erienne shook his head. ‘I’ve burdened him enough.’

  The Unknown chuckled. ‘I don’t think you could ever overburden Denser.’

  ‘You weren’t there. You didn’t see the worst.’

  ‘And you think he doesn’t understand why, or blames you, or something?’

  ‘Lyanna was his daughter too,’ whispered Erienne. And there it was still. The dread feeling of loss that dragged at her soul. It would never go. But at least it didn’t threaten to swamp her now.

  ‘Erienne, you’ve been through something entirely and tragically unique. Don’t add guilt to everything else you’re forced to endure.’

  ‘I can’t help it.’ Erienne shrugged.

  ‘But you know he’s forgiven your every action. Never blamed you in the first place. We all feel the same.’

  ‘I know.’ Erienne gazed at The Unknown in the firelight and recollected her surprise at the sensitivity that existed beneath those hard features. But those eyes that gazed back brimming with compassion and understanding could be so cold.

  He was the most brutally effective warrior she’d ever seen. Had been. The smashed hip that had forced him to hang up his trademark two-handed sword must have reduced his effectiveness. On the other hand, looking at the power in his arms and shoulders, she thought he’d compensated. It was easy to see why his enemies feared him and equally easy to know why she and everyone else he cared for loved and trusted him without question.

  ‘I hated the lot of you for forcing me out here. Away from Lyanna.’

  Another chuckle. ‘Right though, weren’t we?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Erienne. ‘I can’t shift the longing for her. I don’t want to.’

  She stopped and looked around the quiet campsite - at Denser, Hirad and Ilkar sleeping in hammocks above the teeming life that dredged the forest floor - and she understood again what being with these men meant.

  ‘But you’re all with me now, aren’t you? All of yo
u.’

  ‘We never left,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘I can see when I’m with you,’ she said, trying to explain herself.

  ‘That’s why you had to leave that place. We were there too but you wouldn’t see us.’

  ‘She was my life,’ said Erienne.

  ‘And she would have been your death too,’ he said.

  The words stung but she knew he was right. But they were words she wouldn’t have taken from Denser.

  ‘I will never forget her.’

  ‘No one is expecting you to, Erienne,’ he said, and turned and covered her hands with his. ‘None of us ever will. But you had to get away from Herendeneth. You had to stop fuelling your grief.’

  ‘And that’s why I’m here?’ Erienne was taken aback, not quite understanding what he was saying.

  ‘No,’ said The Unknown. ‘Not really. You’re here because you’re Raven and Ilkar needs you. The Raven needs you. But no one is denying the fortunate circumstance.’

  Erienne laughed. ‘Fortunate? Is that what you call it? Think I’d have entertained this if I’d known I’d be sleeping above snakes?’

  ‘Think you’d have made that comment ten days ago?’

  ‘No,’ said Erienne. ‘Gods, what is it about you?’

  The Unknown squeezed her hands. ‘Simple. We love you. We wouldn’t see you come to harm and you were coming to harm on Herendeneth. We understand your pain and we understand you are greater than it. And we all know what you carry inside you.’

  Erienne looked into the fire, unable to speak.

  ‘At the risk of sounding like Hirad, this is what The Raven is about,’ said The Unknown. ‘No one has what we have. You can’t explain it but it’s why I’ll leave my wife and child to do what I must with The Raven, and it’s why Diera understands. I hate to sound superior but we are unique. And you’re hurting at the moment so you should use us. We expect it. We want it.’

  Erienne flung her arms around The Unknown’s neck and sobbed into his shoulder. She felt his arms crush her to him even as within her she felt release. She held on for a while, unwilling to leave the security of his embrace.

 

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