The Raven had left their boats hidden well upstream and had been brought along the west bank of the Shorth to the edge of the dense rainforest where it merged into the largely open but mangrove-bordered swamp. Past it, the outflow to the estuary was just about visible.
‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ said Hirad.
Darrick concurred. He’d been imagining a wide shallow sand plain washed by tidal waters on which a battle could be organised and won by superior tactics. What he was faced with was his worst nightmare of close-quarters combat on uncertain and possibly deadly terrain. The only saving grace was that he had no horses with him. They would have been a pure encumbrance.
‘What do you think, Darrick?’ asked The Unknown.
Even though he shouldn’t have felt flattered by the question he was, but he’d not exactly been looking forward to answering it. With the Al-Arynaar spread out to cover the likely escape routes of any surviving runners and the fabled TaiGethen yet to make an appearance, The Raven were alone in the field and they were peerless tacticians.
‘The question is, what are the enemy thinking?’ said Darrick.
‘Is it?’ asked Denser. But The Unknown was already nodding, giving Darrick the confidence to carry on.
‘We’re making dangerous assumptions at the moment. Which is fine if the enemy either aren’t here or not expecting anyone. But not helpful at all if there are either more of them than we think, or they’ve been contacted and are already dug in and prepared.
‘Now we’re able to see the terrain we have to deal with we can ask the questions that need asking. What we know is that the enemy have, or had, mage support. Should we assume they have contacted the reserve and, if so, at what point? And then, what information could they have passed on and what is the likely response of the reserve?’
‘Right, assume this, then,’ said The Unknown. ‘They know the number of runners. They know how near they are and how fast they are. They also know the hunters are close behind and that they have to establish a safe perimeter beyond the open ground of the estuary itself. Any suggestions?’
‘Narrowest defensible point,’ said Hirad. ‘But where open space for the runners to cross is limited or at least covered by archer and mage fire.’
‘Correct,’ said Darrick. ‘See where the outflow begins between the cliff edges?’ He pointed to an area perhaps three hundred yards across. ‘It’s the most secure but it’s broken by the outflow and the larger channels. It can’t be completely spanned and any force would have to fragment to hold it.’
‘So why would they set their line there?’ asked Erienne.
‘Because if they come any further forward, the forest takes over and they can be outflanked far more easily. They need the cliff edges to secure their flanks. And because there can’t possibly be enough of them to hold a longer line. And to defend further seawards is pointless. The defenders will have their view of the swamp and forest edge disabled because there’ll be no flank view. And the flanks are where our runners are most likely to break cover.
‘There’s something else.’ Darrick smiled. ‘They might know a few TaiGethen are coming but there’s no way they can be aware that fifty swords and a few mages have come downstream. No way.’
‘So what?’ said Denser, looking around at the huge arc of forest that ten times fifty couldn’t hope to cover effectively.
‘So it gives me an idea.’
It was not long before the Al-Arynaar reported back that enemy forces were in place bordering the swamp area, so dispelling the vague anxiety that the runners had already been and gone. Without confirmation from TaiGethen or ClawBound about the position of any of the hunted, The Raven had to assume they could appear at any time.
After a great deal of debate, Darrick’s plan was put in place, though the former general had advised Rebraal to present it to the elves as his own. The Al-Arynaar scouts had been within thirty feet of the forward enemy positions and reported seventy swordsmen spread across the outlet to the estuary, backed by fifteen archers and what were assumed to be six mages. The elves were also confident that more strangers were positioned in deeper cover, less than Darrick had assumed but a threat nevertheless. The strangers were positioned much as expected, with good immediate fields of fire or open spaces to strike into, but Darrick had no intention of facing them on their own terms.
With the arrival of the TaiGethen imminent, Darrick had advised that to be sure of seeing and then stopping any of the runners, they should not spread their line too thin in an attempt to cover the impossible. So the Al-Arynaar and Raven were gathered in four groups - their boat groups - in an arc around the open area of the swamp looking both in and out.
The Raven and Rebraal were out on the left flank, as close as they dared to the enemy but in a position where none could circle them unseen. Al-Arynaar elves took up a similar position opposite them on the east bank with the other two groups closer to the Shorth, one on either bank. Darrick considered that the two flanking groups would be able to cut off runners from anywhere, while the central groups could take down any that came too close but, more importantly, would engage the reserve in the event of them being drawn out.
Tucked into position with nothing to do but wait, Hirad crouched at the end of The Raven line slightly apart from the rest to give him a view of the edge of the cliffs where they soared into the darkening sky and the ground between their position and the enemy line. Looking right, he could just about see Darrick, eyes everywhere, assessing whether he’d set everyone right and searching his mind for anything he’d missed. He was relying on the speed of response and the skill of the TaiGethen, and his lack of knowledge of them clearly worried him.
Behind Hirad, Thraun was looking back into the forest, his keen eyes as good as any elf’s, his ears tuned to the sounds around him, listening for any approach. The barbarian smiled. With his sword in his hand and The Raven poised around him, Hirad felt good.
He felt a prick in the side of his neck, sharp and deliberate. He moved his head, his eyes straining round. The blade of a dagger entered his vision. He raised a hand and began to turn his body slowly. His eyes moved up the hilt of the dagger, along the dark-garbed arm and up into a face painted in deep greens and browns. The elf behind the paint stared back with undisguised hatred, his whispered words conveying his intent though Hirad understood none of them.
He should have been scared, he knew, but instead he was impressed at the stealth that had brought the elf so close without any of them knowing. To cry out would probably be to die. He and half The Raven. The TaiGethen, and he assumed this was one, worked in threes, so Rebraal had said.
But they were not invincible. Hirad smiled.
‘I don’t know what you’re saying, my friend, but one thing you should know is that no Raven is ever alone.’
Thraun’s sword rested against the elf’s neck in turn. He stiffened and hissed, his eyes narrowing but never moving from Hirad. Sudden commotion from two sides and harsh whispered words stopped the situation developing any further. Two more elves came in from Hirad’s right as he sat, Rebraal and The Unknown from the left. Hirad pushed the blade of the dagger away.
‘Sheath it unless you intend to use it.’
The elf didn’t understand him either but he and Rebraal spoke quickly and urgently, the elf still with his gaze locked on Hirad.
‘These your famous TaiGethen, are they?’ asked Hirad.
‘Not now,’ warned The Unknown.
Ilkar had joined them and got Thraun to move his blade. At last the painted elf looked away and up at Rebraal. He snorted contemptuously and bent back towards Hirad, whispering something meaningful before moving silently away, taking his two colleagues with him.
‘Clever,’ said Thraun.
‘You’re lucky you’re not dead,’ said Ilkar.
‘So’s he,’ said Hirad. ‘Who is he?’
‘That’s Auum, leader of the TaiGethen. You don’t want to know what he was saying to you.’
Hirad sh
rugged. ‘No, I don’t. What I do want to know is, where are the runners?’
Ilkar put the question to Rebraal.
‘They’ve caught and killed another two groups of warriors further into the forest. That’s eleven men down altogether. There are others apparently on both banks but they haven’t a bead on any of them. This side, Auum says the strangers are travelling under magical obscurement of some kind. On the other, there’s someone he apparently respects for his forest skill but wants to skin for killing a ClawBound pair. Their guess is that both sets of men are close. More TaiGethen are crossing the river now. We shouldn’t have to wait too long.’
But they did. All the rest of that day and on into the night. It was a very uncomfortable vigil. They had no relief, they had no time to eat anything other than dried meat and they had to ignore the inevitable host of insects as best they could. In the heat, humidity and rain it was a test of stamina and endurance. The TaiGethen and ClawBound were combing the forest but had so far found nothing.
Leaving Thraun, Ren, Aeb and Rebraal watching in all directions as the light faded to nothing, The Raven talked.
‘It’ll happen under cover of darkness,’ said Darrick.
‘No reason why,’ said Ilkar. ‘They’ll know elves see just as well now as in daylight.’
Darrick tapped his head. ‘The reasons are all up here. Remember, they’re scared and tired. They want every advantage, real or perceived. ’
‘Think they’re in contact with this lot ahead?’ asked Hirad.
‘Impossible to say,’ said Darrick.
‘I doubt it,’ said Denser. ‘Communion’s a spell their mages can’t afford. It’s draining at the best of times. And thinking about how we were all beginning to feel just coping with the insect bites . . .’ He shrugged.
‘He’s right,’ said Ilkar. ‘And don’t forget, we’ve got one group apparently under some kind of moving illusion that’s good enough to confuse elves and panthers. That’s going to be one impressive spell.’
‘Why don’t they just come straight in?’ asked Erienne. ‘I mean, if that spell is so good, why are they worrying? Just wander up to the line and be safe.’
‘Good point, but I suspect it’s the terrain,’ said Darrick. ‘Splashing through that swamp will be like ringing warning bells, hidden by illusion or not.’
‘Right,’ said The Unknown. ‘Here’s what I suggest now.’
But he didn’t have time to impart his idea because, a hundred yards to their right, the swamp exploded into life. Footsteps rushed headlong through water, plumes of spray scattering in all directions. There was the deeper splash of thigh-deep water and, from the lines ahead, the odd voice raised in encouragement.
‘Raven!’ roared Hirad. ‘Raven with me!’
Hirad led The Raven out of cover, heading for their holding position on the left flank.
‘HardShield up,’ said Ilkar.
‘SpellShield active,’ said Erienne.
‘Keep watching that left flank,’ warned The Unknown.
‘On it,’ said Darrick.
‘Denser, we need that illusion pierced,’ said Hirad.
‘Way ahead of you,’ said the Xeteskian.
The Raven plunged into the swamp shallows, keeping their arc line as best they could in the heavy vegetation at its edge. Behind the hidden runners, the Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen were coming. The moon broke through the clouds, giving the swamp and forest an eerie luminescence; a multiple wailing pierced the air and Hirad saw the glint of metal in the sky. A panther roared, its voice taken up by a dozen more.
Denser came to a sudden stop, uttered a command word and shoved his arms out sharply. His ForceCone hammered away into the night, slapping into the roiling area of swamp where the runners had to be. Suddenly, men were visible, sprawling in the water, dragging themselves back to their feet. It hadn’t been an illusion. Some sort of multiple target CloakedWalk. But now it was gone and that was all the TaiGethen needed. With extraordinary speed, three of them cut through the swamp almost as if they were skating across the surface of the water. Blades glittered in the moonlight.
The shouts from the estuary entrance became louder and more urgent. The thrum of bowstrings was plain. Arrows arced across the sky, falling behind the runners, slicing into the swamp waters. After them came FlameOrbs, four pairs, their orange glows like dying suns, throwing shadows into sharp relief and lighting up the faces of the TaiGethen, who scattered instantly.
‘Ward!’ shouted Denser.
The Raven stilled. FlameOrbs spattered down on them, fizzing and crackling over Ilkar’s shield. It held. It always did.
In the afterglow of the spells, the runners saw their plight all too plainly. One threw a bag to another, the mage. He stood stock-still, desperately trying to cast. His three companions gathered in front of him as the TaiGethen tore into them. The first leapt high, left leg snapping out, taking his opponent in the chest. The man staggered back, sword swiping at empty air. The TaiGethen drove through his unbalanced guard, piercing his neck. The second and third elves flung jaqrui. They were knocked aside but their targets were distracted. With incredible swiftness, the TaiGethen blades whipped in. The expanding slick of blood was black in the moonlight.
ShadowWings sprouted at the mage’s back. He shot skywards, a laugh of relief on his lips. Jaqrui wailed after him, none finding its target. He turned in the air, flying for the enemy line.
‘Damn!’ yelled Hirad.
Behind him, a bowstring twanged. The arrow speared the mage between his shoulder blades. He juddered forward and shouted briefly, arms clawing reflexively at his back. His wings vanished and he fell, momentum taking him just beyond the swamp edge. No-man’s-land.
Hirad turned. ‘Good shooting.’
The smile was back on Ren’s face but there was no time for self-congratulation.
‘We must have that bag,’ said Rebraal in halting Balaian.
He set off, TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar two hundred yards behind him but sprinting through the swamp and gaining quickly. ‘Leave the water,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Piranha.’
But The Raven were already chasing after him. Hirad saw more arrows arc towards them and the elves from the estuary defenders. HotRain fell from the sky. Here was where it would happen. The sides closed on each other, the mage’s body marking where the lines would clash.
‘Watch that left flank!’ he shouted as he raced on, sword raised high, running for the enemy.
Erys hadn’t the stamina to cast Communion again but ClearSight was far more simple. He’d related to Yron everything he could see through the darkness. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were on both sides of the Shorth, some closing in behind them now. As Yron had hoped, their reserve force was spread across the entrance to the estuary, unfortunately split by the Shorth and its channels, but so were the elves.
Yron, Erys and the miraculously still living Ben-Foran were an agonising three hundred yards from safety in the hands of the reserve. But Yron smelled a trap and he’d been alive too long to ignore his instincts. He put a hand on Erys’s shoulder, staying the mage, who was preparing to run in.
‘Wait,’ he said.
‘But . . .’
‘Wait,’ he repeated. ‘This isn’t the stroll it seems. Trust me.’
Almost at once he was proved right. A commotion on the other side of the Shorth shattered the relative peace of the rainforest. They could hear footsteps splashing through water and the shouts of men and elves. Arrows and spells flew, the TaiGethen pounced, panthers sounded from every angle. The ClawBound were near.
Erys grabbed Yron’s shoulder and pointed into the sky.
‘Stenys,’ he breathed.
Yron followed his arm and saw the mage climbing into the sky. ‘Go on.’ Yron clenched a fist. ‘Go on.’
Stenys wheeled and moved towards the estuary, getting higher all the time. Jaqrui wailed but missed. Yron’s heart beat harder.
‘Nearly there,’ he whispered. ‘Shit!’
He saw th
e arrow plunge into Stenys’s back. Saw him fall from the sky and saw the elves move towards his body. Erys’s grip on his shoulder slackened.
‘Sorry, Erys.’
Erys shook his head. ‘So close.’
‘And we’ll get closer still. Our chance is very soon.’
Yron focussed on the coming battle. He knew there were Al-Arynaar very close but in the confusion they might just get enough of a head start. If their luck held. He smiled grimly. This would not be a good time for it to falter.
The reserve waited, just as they should. Hidden from view. Arrows and spells arced into the moonlit night. He saw flaring as shields took the brunt of the magic and explosions on the ground where the Orbs fell directly to earth. Behind him he thought he could sense something but he couldn’t see any movement. Perhaps the elves this side of the Shorth were distracted. He had to hope so.
With a clash of steel, the two forces met. It had to be now or never.
‘Ready, Ben?’ Ben-Foran was propped against a tree. He looked dog-tired but nodded anyway.
‘Erys, you’re flying.’
‘No, sir. I’m carrying. I don’t have the stamina or the nerve for wings anyway.’
Yron nodded. ‘If we falter, run on. Don’t hesitate. We need those writings safe.’
The two men lifted Ben between them, balanced his weight and stood, breathing hard, pulses tripping fast, every nerve alive. In front of them, three hundred yards of forest, swamp, water and then safety. It looked a terribly long way.
‘Don’t look back, don’t cry out, don’t even blink,’ Yron said. ‘As soon as we break cover, run like you’ve never run before.’
They manoeuvred Ben to the very edge of the forest. Right in front of them, the swamp waters glimmered darkly. Yron prayed the piranha were too busy feasting on the bodies of the others by now. And the crocodiles. He shivered.
The Raven Collection Page 192
