Yron fell flat, winded, his head thrown back, his gaze passing across Inell, two arrows in his chest, punching flat-palmed into the nose of the man who stood over him, driving bone into his brain. The man fell twitching to the ground, Inell following him, a blade driven through his lower back.
On top of him, Merke moved, her hand pressing on one of his. He opened it and the thumb was pushed into his palm.
‘You know what to do,’ she said, drawing a final ragged bubbling breath.
Rough hands pulled Yron from beneath her body, he making a play at struggling in order to slip the fragment into his pocket. His axe was taken from him and cast aside. Devun was in front of him, looking open-mouthed at the scene of carnage. More than a dozen men lay dead or dying.
‘I told you,’ said Yron thickly.
Devun swung round, his fist connecting with Yron’s front teeth.
He felt them give and pain flared in his head as blood started to flow from his mouth and down his throat. He spat to clear his breathing.
‘Don’t you say another word, Xeteskian. The only reason you’re still alive is that Selik will not thank me for killing you before he’s interrogated you.’
‘I’m already looking forward to it.’
‘But I’m damned if I’m going to listen to your filthy college tongue all the way to Understone.’
He nodded. Yron felt a sharp blow to the base of his skull. It didn’t hurt for long.
Chapter 44
The Raven rode hard throughout the day, aware that Aeb’s injuries and the lack of casting power of all three mages made them vulnerable. Denser would be sporting new scars on his face and neck from the Familiar’s attack but was otherwise not physically damaged. Ilkar had drained himself completely through healing, shielding and Communion, while Erienne was struggling with her concentration as the Al-Drechar fed her power from the One magic and asked her to cope with its increasing ferocity.
All the way across the south of Xetesk, Dordovan forces had pulled out, leaving Xetesk’s search for Yron and the TaiGethen cell unmolested. Their threat had forced The Raven further south than they had anticipated and, towards the south-west, they saw the disturbing sight of clouds of dust hanging in the air, the unmistakeable sign of an army on the march.
The smart money was on the Black Wings but it wasn’t something they could worry about unduly as they sought the allied college lines and information on the whereabouts of the elves and, most particularly, Rebraal and Auum.
They pushed their horses as far as they dared, hearing the battle very clearly long before they got close enough to begin identifying the forces engaged in heavy fighting to the south-east of the city. From their initial positions on the borders of the Xeteskian mage lands, Hirad estimated the Dordovan and Lysternan forces had driven in over thirty miles and were encountering Xeteskian resistance some five miles from the walls.
The Raven encountered several perimeter patrols, mainly Lysternan cavalry. These meetings gained them crucial information but the rumour mill would start too and its outcome was not necessarily positive. Although The Raven were a sight most allied forces could only dream of seeing, one of their number was the former commander of Lystern’s army and wanted for desertion. Another was a Protector.
There were two hours of light left when The Raven rode into the forward camp of Lystern and Dordover’s joint command. They were only a mile behind the battle lines, on a rise that gave a good view of the whole front. The Unknown and Darrick led The Raven to an observation point and they looked down on the extraordinary spectacle of college warfare.
The fighting was concentrated in an arc around a quarter of a mile across though other fronts were evidenced by smoke and light further to the east and north-east.
Below The Raven, the main allied force pressed a sword and spear attack. Behind both lines, ranks of archers fired at each other and the knots of offensive and defensive mages, while the flanks were protected by pikemen and the more mobile cavalry.
Izack was here, so they were told, directing battle and rotating his cavalry to keep them as fresh as he could. They harried the flanks of the Xeteskians, engaged their cavalry, feinted charges deep behind the enemy and rode hard in defence of any weakening areas of their own line.
The roar of battle was deafening, even from here. The desultory thud of spells punctuated the yell of orders, the cries of panic and pain, the whinnies of horses and the constant clash of metal.
Reinforcements ran in from both sides, groups of fighters moving under questionable mage protection. Shields flared under the bombardment; those that cracked leaving their charges helpless to the merciless mana power. And older men, women and youths were everywhere - supplying arrows, water and food where they could and carrying the injured and dying from the battlefield.
All around The Raven the air smelled of blood, sweat and fire. HotRain sluiced out of the sky over the support and reinforcements, ForceCones smashed out, DeathHail sliced away at groups of cavalry. Across the lines, ruptured earth and heaved stone were the residue of EarthHammers.
The Unknown turned to Darrick. ‘How do you see it?’ he shouted over the din.
‘Xetesk can’t outflank.’ Darrick pointed away west. ‘They must be fully committed on all fronts. We need to get down there onto the field. Speak to Izack.’
‘Got a couple of ideas for him?’
Darrick nodded, smiling, and The Unknown could see him yearning to be there in the midst of the confusion, a snorting horse under him, blood-slick sword in hand.
‘We’ll also get the best intelligence on the elven positions.’
‘I don’t see any Protectors here,’ mentioned The Unknown.
‘No, interesting, isn’t it?’
‘Raven!’ The Unknown turned. ‘We are leaving.’
The big warrior led them back to their horses, the animals tethered in a group fifty yards from the observation point. They looked tired and forlorn, eyeing their riders with weary resignation.
‘Hirad, Thraun, flank positions,’ said The Unknown as they mounted, the noise of battle diminishing just enough for normal speech. ‘Mages, inside the arc, and if you have enough for a SpellShield, now’s the time. Darrick, centre with me. Ren, Aeb, you’ve got the rear.’
The Raven kicked away, drawing cheers from some they passed. The Unknown took them quickly down the slope and into the maelstrom. Among the fighting, the untutored eye saw nothing but a storm of blood, mud, men and steel. Immediately to their left, a pair burst from the mass, Xeteskian tumbling over Dordovan in the mud, punches flying, each man desperate to get a blade round for a killing blow. But the Xeteskian was lost in the midst of the enemy. He was hauled up by Dordovan hands, stabbed half a dozen times and dropped face down.
Far out on the right flank, The Unknown saw a man who had trained under the best. Izack was leading a charge into a confused area of fighting. Xeteskian spells had crashed through one too many SpellShields and allied reinforcements had died before they reached the line. Archer support was weak and it was all the remaining mages could do to shield those who still stood.
As the Lysternan cavalry galloped in, Izack’s booming voice could be heard across the battlefield. Foot soldiers pushed away and disengaged, giving the horsemen maximum space to move through.
‘Tight!’ roared Izack. ‘Tight!’
The cavalry kept close form, dodging their own men as best they could, angling in steeply to avoid the worst of pike and spear to thump into the Xeteskian lines, driving men back, trampling those who failed to react, using their swords to fend off and scatter.
Behind them, the allies regrouped as arrows peppered the momentarily disordered Xeteskians. Izack’s cavalry withdrew and both sides ran in again, marshalled by the calls of field captains and lieutenants. Izack was now clear, cantering past the next section of Lysternan horsemen who took orders, wheeled and rode hard on a flanking manoeuvre.
The Unknown led The Raven across the back of the fighting line, cloaks flowing, arrow
s falling around them but bouncing off the HardShield lattice covering much of the allied rear.
‘Izack!’ bellowed Darrick as they approached.
The cavalry commander hauled his horse around, his face splitting into a broad smile in recognition of the voice of his erstwhile general. He leaned out of his saddle and clasped hands with Darrick. The Raven stopped and surrounded him, well out of spell and missile range.
‘Dear Gods, General, it lightens my heart to see you!’
‘And I you, though I’d wished for kinder circumstances.’
Izack nodded, glancing quickly over The Raven, his eyes never straying too far from the battle.
‘What brings you here?’ he asked. ‘I’d heard The Raven were near. Blackthorne told us as much but I thought you’d be headed back south again by now.’
‘So did we,’ agreed Darrick. ‘But we need to find the elves. We believe one of the TaiGethen cells has recovered something vital to them.’
‘I’ve heard nothing,’ said Izack. ‘The elves are all fighting further east. They’re with a Dordovan force trying to reach Xetesk’s east gate. They’re incredible fighters, so they say. The painted ones particularly.’
‘You’d better believe it,’ said The Unknown. ‘One to one as good as Protectors, in my opinion.’
‘And in Xetesk’s too,’ said Izack. ‘The Protectors are heavily committed against them.’
‘Are you in contact?’ asked Darrick.
‘Only by riders. Can’t spare mages for Communion.’
Darrick nodded. ‘We have to get to them. How’s the land in between?’
‘Safe enough,’ said Izack. ‘Don’t stray too far west, Xeteskian cavalry is moving out there.’ He smiled. ‘Go on, tell me what I’m doing wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ said Darrick. ‘But weight your left. Keep cavalry out there. We’ve seen an army on the march north. Don’t get caught.’
‘Know about it already,’ said Izack. ‘Black Wings. They’re here to attack Xetesk, I think. They might even help us.’
‘Not by choice,’ said The Unknown. ‘Don’t underestimate them.’
‘One other thing,’ said Darrick. ‘Their cavalry commander here isn’t confident. He sees things too late. Next time you see a breach, you might try riding through it, but take half of your men with you.’
The two Lysternans shook hands again.
‘You know I’m supposed to arrest you,’ said Izack. ‘Pity I didn’t recognise you.’
‘Another day,’ said Darrick. ‘I’ll come back, answer for my actions.’
‘Raven!’ Hirad took up his reins. ‘Raven with me!’
Taking The Unknown’s place at the head of the arc, he galloped away towards the east gate of Xetesk.
The dusk was deepening when The Raven finally rode into the allies’ forward camp on the eastern battle front. With the coming of night fighting had ceased, and the echoing memories of the battle clashed with the enforced calm of the aftermath.
The Raven had been forced to move slowly. Their horses’ exhaustion, marauding bands of Xeteskian cavalry and the deep suspicion of Dordovan patrols had all made for a circuitous and difficult passage. But a sympathetic finger had pointed them the way to the mess tents and the elven encampment. And although they drew glances that ranged from awe to open hostility, they had eaten and their horses were picketed, rubbed down and fed.
With Ilkar leading, they walked into the quiet of the elven camp. Most were already asleep, stretched out under the cloudy sky, but those still awake displayed the signs of people who had experienced their first day on the battlefield: shock, deep weariness, disbelief.
Hirad sympathised. They would have feared for their lives every heartbeat, and finished the day bruised, deafened, exhausted and guilty that they lived when their friends had died. And worse was to come. It would have to be faced all over again as dawn broke, but with every muscle screaming for rest and the risks as great, if not greater. But for these elves, there was also the fact that they would never have seen such a mass of humanity in one place all trying to kill each other. Never mind their willingness to fight and die for their cause and never mind their skill and mental strength. Nothing prepared you for that first day of mass battle. Nothing.
They found Rebraal and Auum together, cuts bathed and bound, sitting cross-legged near a fire discussing the day gone and the day to come. As The Raven approached, Ilkar ushering tired elves out of the way to let them sit to talk, Auum looked up, his distaste undisguised and eyeing Hirad with what amounted to contempt. The Unknown put a calming hand on Hirad’s shoulder and sat him next to Ilkar, who Rebraal had been plainly happy to see.
The conversation began, Ilkar translating the elven words.
‘So what brings you here, little brother? We thought you were in the city by now.’
Ilkar chuckled. ‘You know perfectly well why we’re here and not in Xetesk. The TaiGethen have recovered the Yniss fragment and we’re here to join you. Erienne has to travel with you to aid the binding, and where Erienne goes, The Raven go.’
That got Auum’s attention. His head snapped up and Hirad could see his eyes spearing Ilkar.
‘Wrong,’ he said. ‘We are going back in tonight to attempt entry into the college itself.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Ilkar.
‘What is there not to understand?’ said Rebraal. ‘We don’t have it. And patently neither do you despite your grand words about The Raven’s skill. Why else do you think we’re still here?’
‘Aeb was in contact with the Soul Tank the day before we were due to raid the college. You remember I explained Protectors to you.’
‘And we fought them all day for very little gain,’ said Rebraal. There was a murmur around the fire.
‘Not surprising, really,’ said Ilkar. ‘The point is, two souls departing the Tank reported they had been killed by TaiGethen who took Yron, the man who holds the thumb.’
‘Which Tai?’ demanded Ilkar.
‘I don’t know. How could I?’
‘Where was this incident?’ Auum was sitting bolt upright now, an expression of anxiety across his face, his hands gripping his thighs.
‘Just outside the west gate of the college, right by the artisans’ quarter,’ said Ilkar.
Rebraal and Auum shared a glance. ‘Merke,’ said the TaiGethen. He looked back to Ilkar. ‘They have not reported back here. You are sure about this?’
Ilkar nodded. ‘Absolutely. Protectors are unable to lie.’
‘Then the Xeteskians must have retaken them,’ said Rebraal.
‘Not possible,’ said Ilkar. ‘Aeb would know. They escaped the city early this morning.’
‘They have not returned,’ said Auum.
Ilkar sighed. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said, turning to The Unknown. ‘We’ve lost it again. Somewhere between here and the college. The Gods only know where it is.’
‘Well, we’ll have to search,’ said the big warrior. ‘Find out where this Tai went in and work back from there.’
Ilkar posed the question and didn’t like the answer.
‘South-west corner,’ he relayed. ‘Right where the Black Wings are advancing.’
‘Any chance they ran into a patrol?’ asked Hirad.
‘It would have to be a big one to stop a TaiGethen cell,’ said Ren.
‘How good is this Yron?’ asked Rebraal, dropping back into elvish to speak to Auum.
The TaiGethen snorted, getting his meaning. ‘Not good enough.’
‘It doesn’t matter anyway, he wanted to find them. It was Yron who stole the thumb from the college. The point is, they must be holed up somewhere, trapped maybe,’ said Ilkar. ‘Look, this is what we know. Merke’s cell got out of the city with Yron and now Xetesk will be looking for them and they have a head start. But coming at them from the south is an army of farmers driven on by Black Wing witch hunters. They are caught in the middle of it somewhere and we have to get them out fast.’
‘We will sweep from
here to the coast,’ said Auum. ‘We will see everything. But first we have to rest. We’ll leave before dawn.’
‘You can’t do that,’ said Ilkar. ‘You can’t abandon this front entirely. Xetesk will know straight away what you’re doing.’
‘Then perhaps these Dordovans we fought for can return us the favour,’ said Rebraal. ‘Or perhaps you and your Raven. After all, what have you done so far?’
‘Got you here,’ said Ilkar. ‘And created the conditions for Yron to take the thumb and escape the college. And that’s just for starters.’
‘You have some great and better idea, do you?’ said Auum, his voice dismissive.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Ilkar. ‘What you’re suggesting is too slow and Xetesk will be able to track you all the way because the land is too open. All it’ll lead to is more mass conflict with Xetesk and Black Wings and you’ll get no nearer the prize. Do it The Raven’s way. Trust me, it’ll work.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ Rebraal looked at Ilkar hard. ‘We’re dropping like flies here. We need speed. We’re losing more to the Sorrow than to the Protectors.’
‘Just be ready to leave when we come for you. You and Auum’s Tai. And a ClawBound pair if you can get a message to one. Get some rest.’
‘What do you have that we have not?’ sneered Auum.
‘Horses, men who know the land and mages that can fly,’ said Ilkar shortly. ‘Any of those skills of yours?’
‘Ilkar—’
‘No, Rebraal, he has to hear this,’ said Ilkar, standing and looking down at Auum, who looked ready to strike, his face grey and angry in the firelight. ‘The Raven are doing this for me and for you. For all the elves. We’re doing it because it is right and, believe me, there are other things we could be doing. Like saving our own land from destruction for a start.
‘But we’re doing this first because The Raven would do anything for me. That’s what being one of us is all about and it is something you, Auum, should understand. So get your head out of the trees, respect those that deserve it and join in. Because we are your best hope of recovering the thumb. Believe it.’
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