Hirad pushed a resigned and unresisting Heryst ahead of him, dagger ready, free hand on the Lord Elder Mage’s shoulder. ‘Not too fast. I’d hate you to fall.’
The spiral stair was wide and lantern-lit. No sound came from below.
‘There is no one at the base of the stairs,’ Erienne said. ‘Further on, I don’t know yet. The stair ends in two more full circles.’
The Unknown nodded. ‘Hirad, keep a tight grip on him. This is where it gets interesting.’
The spiral stair unwound into a long corridor lined with blank walls and heavy wooden doors. A single iron-bound door stood at the end some sixty paces distant. The Unknown spoke for the benefit of the hidden guards.
‘Lord Heryst is in front of us. You don’t want him hurt any more than we do so I suggest that you stay wherever you are hiding. No one needs to be a hero. We’re all on the same side. But we’ve come for Darrick and no one leaves here until we get him.’
Silence.
The Unknown smiled. At least they had some discipline. The Raven, Heryst at their head, moved slowly along the corridor, footsteps echoing loud from the dark stone walls and low ceiling. The cell block smelled damp and vaguely rotten, as if the filth of ages had pervaded the stone where no amount of scouring could remove it.
‘Cheerful place.’
‘Shut up, Hirad,’ hissed The Unknown.
They passed the first doors, the cells they fronted dark and quiet. By the number and spacing of doors, the cells were very small.
‘Stop,’ said Erienne suddenly. ‘Left and right, second cells. Swordsmen. Two each side.’
Heryst drew in a sharp breath.
‘Not a word,’ whispered Hirad.
The Unknown considered briefly. He indicated Thraun and Denser to the left door, moving to cover the right himself.
‘Let’s move on,’ he said loudly enough.
Heryst opened his mouth but Hirad’s dagger pushed into his neck, pricking the skin.
‘I will bleed you,’ he said, voice low. ‘I don’t want to but I will.’
He pushed Heryst on towards the end of the cell block, their footsteps slapping echoes off the walls.
The Unknown waited, watching Erienne closely, uneasy at the split forced on them but needing to take the gamble. She walked slowly in Hirad’s wake, body tensed, her mind straining to keep a rein on the power sluicing through her. The walkers passed another two sets of doors before Thraun indicated noise. Simultaneously, Erienne stopped and looked sharply left. Doors seemed to open everywhere.
‘Damn!’ spat The Unknown, already moving down the corridor. ‘Hirad, keep Heryst moving.’
Behind him, he heard the sound of metal-shod feet on stone. Ahead, two figures emerged from a cell left and one from the right.
‘Erienne!’
Lost in the One, Erienne was slow to react. A leather-clad warrior ran at her, lowering his sword and thumping into her with his shoulder and sending her sprawling against the opposite wall. She cried out in surprise and Hirad turned, began moving towards her but found his way blocked by the second soldier.
‘Hirad! Behind!’ shouted The Unknown. But Heryst was already moving, running towards the end of the corridor. The Unknown could see his hands describing arcs in the air as he went. ‘Trouble.’
He charged up the corridor, his pace fast despite the stiffness in the hip damaged on Arlen’s docks. Fast enough to surprise the lone figure who stood in front of the open cell door right. Without pause, The Unknown whipped a fist into his cheek and chin, spinning him round and hard into the wall. He fell senseless. The Unknown hurdled both him and Erienne to chase the casting Heryst.
As he passed, Hirad swore, moving to attack the threat to Erienne. He stepped smartly inside a round arm strike, blocked the sword arm away with his left hand and thudded the hilt of his dagger into the soldier’s temple. The man sagged under the blow and Hirad helped him down with a double-handed strike to the back of his neck.
The Unknown closed the gap fast, footsteps ringing in his ears, the shouts and sounds of hand-to-hand fighting behind him that he couldn’t afford to let distract him. Heryst slowed and turned, eyes widening a little at the sight of The Unknown’s huge frame coming at him. He held his hands wide, encompassing his targets. The Unknown dropped and slid in, feet first, boot buckles striking sparks from the stone. Heryst’s mouth moved. The Raven warrior ploughed into him, sweeping his legs from under him.
The spell was lost. Heryst crashed heavily down, half on, half off The Unknown who was already shovelling sideways and coming to his haunches. He rested one hand on the back of the struggling Heryst’s neck.
‘Enough, Heryst.’
Back down the corridor, Erienne was in trouble. Overpowered by her attacker, he had her in a neck lock, his short sword close to her midriff.
‘Back off!’ shouted the soldier. ‘I’ll kill her.’
Hirad advanced another pace. Out of the soldier’s view, Denser and Thraun were closing in, leaving four still figures behind them. The Unknown could see blood on Denser’s face and Thraun’s knuckles but the floor had none of the slick that told of mortal wounds.
‘We have your Lord,’ said The Unknown, coming to his feet and dragging Heryst with him. ‘No one is killing anyone in here. Least of all you.’
‘You don’t want her to die,’ said the soldier, fear in his voice.
He retreated, his back to a wall. The Unknown saw him swallow hard as he watched The Raven close in but focused his attention principally on the door behind him. Darrick was beyond it, that much was sure, but how many others? Mages. Prepared and ready to cast. And an honour guard of anywhere between two and six. Not great odds and they had little time before the door above them was breached, trapping them.
Erienne was calm, waiting for what she expected to be the inevitable. In front of the soldier, Hirad and Thraun obstructed his view of Denser. The soldier was naïve. And in a magic college, that was unforgivable.
‘Idiot,’ hissed Heryst, his voice choked by The Unknown’s powerful grip.
‘Shame,’ muttered The Unknown.
‘When you’re ready,’ said Denser.
Thraun and Hirad parted. Denser cast. He was a very accurate mage. His tightly wound spell snapped out, catching the soldier square in the face. Blood spattered from his broken nose and in his surprise, he dropped his weapon, both hands clutching at his face. Hirad moved in and put him on the floor.
‘Good work,’ said Hirad. ‘ForceCone, was it?’
‘You’re learning,’ said Denser. ‘Are you all right, my love?’
‘Never better,’ said Erienne but she was pale and a deep frown pressed on her eyes. ‘Bit of a headache, though. Too much focused mana in here to do what I was trying.’
‘Raven, let’s step it up!’ ordered The Unknown. ‘Denser, SpellShield; Hirad, come take your charge back. Thraun, you’re with me. Erienne, stand down, we’ll take what comes through here.’
The room beyond was proofed against sound from without. It was to protect both those inside and those in the cells awaiting their fate. Not that a condemned of Darrick’s calibre would cry out for mercy. But even he would wish to enjoy his last moments in peace. The Raven, though, had no intention of letting these moments be his last.
The Unknown drew his sword.
‘Everyone inside signed up to Darrick’s sentence. Kill if you have to.’
‘Unknown, the Code.’ Hirad had his sword drawn but he was uneasy.
The Code: to kill but never murder. It had guided The Raven for more than fifteen years. Raised them above mere mercenaries. Earned them a respect they had never abused. Made them legend.
‘They would murder an innocent man,’ said The Unknown. ‘A Raven man. They forfeit their right to life within the Code. But remember. Only if you have to. The Gods know we need everyone we can get for the fight against Xetesk.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Heryst.
‘No,’ said Hirad. ‘You don’t.’ He turned and
faced the door. ‘Raven. Time to take our man back.’
It wasn’t a cell door. Thraun and The Unknown shouldered it simultaneously, the timbers cracking under the sudden, brutal force. Denser followed them as they tumbled in, scattering wood and heavy drapes, his SpellShield covering them. Behind them came Hirad and Heryst, the Lord Elder Mage bowed and humiliated.
Thraun rolled to a crouch and sprang at two soldiers standing opposite the door. Neither had a weapon drawn. The Unknown moved smoothly to his feet. To his left, two mages from the law council sat behind a table. Darrick sat in a plain, hard-backed chair to the right, writing in a book. He was flanked by guards who dragged swords from scabbards and paced towards The Unknown. Across the room, Thraun clattered his fist into the face of one soldier, stood and threw the other man at the advancing guards, a growl escaping his lips.
The Unknown put his sword’s point to the neck of a still seated law council mage.
‘Enough,’ he said into Thraun’s echoes.
The standing guards lowered their swords, taking in The Raven, Heryst and their senseless comrades.
Darrick completed his thought, scanning the words he had just written before looking up, a rare smile edging over his features. He closed his book.
‘I was wondering when you’d get here,’ he said, standing up and straightening his shirt.
‘Not even you can be that cool,’ said Hirad.
Darrick grinned. ‘Well, I must admit, I feel you cut it a little fine.’
‘And we’re not out yet,’ said The Unknown. He took in the room, its dark candles on tall iron stands, the dark drapes hanging from every wall, the chill in the air. Every bit an execution chamber. His gaze came back to rest on the law mages. ‘Let’s get these men into cells. Weapons stay here.’ He pushed the point of his blade a little harder. ‘My Lord Simmac, if you’d be so kind.’
‘You will all die for this,’ he sputtered.
The Unknown sighed. ‘I doubt that, Simmac. What we will do is rejoin the fight against Xetesk. We’ve already lost two days. Time you saw the bigger picture, little man.’
Thraun picked up unconscious soldiers by their jerkin collars, one in either powerful fist and dragged them from the execution chamber. He moved at a loping run, the men’s boots rattling across the stone flags. Denser encouraged the two remaining guards down the corridor with a meaningful wave of his sword, and The Unknown ushered the law mages along right behind him.
The Raven worked fast, splitting the soldiers and mages between cells, Darrick helping Thraun clear the corridor of men, both still and stirring. With a set of keys taken from a guard, the cells were locked down one after another but before locking the final cell door on Simmac, The Unknown paused.
‘I know you can break this door down in a heartbeat. That’s why Heryst is coming with us. Any noise from down here and he dies. You do understand me, don’t you?’
The Raven set off at a run, taking the stairs at speed and reaching ground level to find the pair of guards still down under Denser and Erienne’s spells. From the main door, there came the sounds of furious activity and heavy impacts. But the door was still holding.
‘They’re getting close,’ said Denser.
The Unknown saw the slight shake of Heryst’s head as he turned to face them.
‘So, mighty Raven,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for this. Escape through that angry mob of loyal Lysternans is going to be a challenge.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Denser.
‘I can’t wait to find out how you plan to get away. I can hardly be a shield for all of you.’ He smiled, enjoying himself a little.
‘Oh, Heryst,’ said Denser. ‘You’ve been out of the game too long.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Denser indicated the wall opposite the main barracks door. ‘The stables are this way and we have no intention of using the door.’
‘I—’
‘Watch and learn,’ said Darrick, voice cold. ‘Like I did.’
‘Stand away,’ said Denser.
‘No,’ said Erienne. ‘Let me do it.’
‘Can you?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘I’d better, I think. Quieter my way.’
Heryst’s eyes had narrowed in confused suspicion once more. The Unknown ignored him.
‘Don’t take on too much.’
But Erienne was already lost inside her mind, standing absolutely still, facing the wall, her arms by her sides. The Unknown watched her in profile, mesmerised by the movement of her lips, the narrowing of her eye and the rapid movement of its pupil. A wind blew through the guard room, ruffling papers and blowing through clothing. Heat, like the summer sun bursting through cloud, surrounded them. Smoke poured from the wall, which cracked and moved. A glowing red line, rough but shaped like a doorway, etched and burned in the stones. Beneath the red line, stone became dust, dropping to the floor with a sound like spilled grain, leaving an opening into the night.
The Unknown gasped, feeling the power surging through the elements around him. He glanced at Heryst. The Lord Elder Mage’s face was taut, his eyes wide. Erienne swayed and fell into Denser’s arms.
He looked down at his wife then back at the opening she had created.
‘Bloody hell,’ he breathed.
‘Not seen that sort of thing for a while, then?’ asked Hirad.
‘Hirad,’ said Denser. ‘No one has seen or done that sort of thing on Balaia for hundreds of years.’
Hirad shivered and glanced at Thraun and Darrick who moved carefully over to the smoking opening which overlooked the stables and paddocks beyond. Outside, the way was clear and quiet but the sounds of the crowd filtered round the sides of the building.
‘We should go,’ said Darrick. ‘Quickly.’
‘Come on, Heryst,’ said Hirad. ‘We need you to order the gates opened.’
Heryst made no move. ‘We never close our gates,’ he said vaguely.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, his gaze tearing from Erienne to The Unknown.
‘She possesses it,’ he said. ‘Everyone will want her and what she carries.’
‘Not if they don’t know,’ said The Unknown.
Heryst gestured behind him. The sounds of spells impacting the door to counter Denser’s WardLock had ceased.
‘I felt it. So did Denser and every mage in this college. The Gods only know how far the ripples will spread through the spectrum. We all know what it means. It was no college-based casting because there was so much more involved than mere mana. The Nightchild told us that much.’
‘But her identity need not be known,’ said The Unknown.
‘The connection will be made.’ Heryst shrugged. ‘She will be safer here. You all will.’
‘Except Darrick,’ said Erienne weakly.
She was still clinging on to Denser. Her face was white and drawn and she was shivering.
‘You know we can’t stay here. We have made a promise to Ilkar. Julatsa’s Heart must be raised and Xetesk has to be stopped. That isn’t going to happen if we sit here under your questionable protection, ’ said The Unknown. ‘The question really is, are you going to make it difficult for us to ride away from here now?’
Another spell struck the outer door. Timbers heaved. The sound of angry voices grew louder.
‘Darrick is under sentence. I can’t change that,’ said Heryst. ‘But Erienne must stay. Xetesk must not be allowed to take her.’
‘She’s Raven,’ said Hirad. ‘And Xetesk, nor Dordover, nor you will ever own her. Let’s go.’
Heryst was going to be a hindrance.
‘He stays,’ said The Unknown. ‘Denser?’
Denser nodded, released Erienne into The Unknown’s arms and turned on the Lord Elder Mage of Lystern who stiffened. Hirad’s sword point rested gently on his heart.
‘It doesn’t hurt,’ said Denser.
‘Pain I can handle. The stain on my reputation will take longer to clear.’
‘You opposed us. You pay the p
rice,’ said Hirad.
‘You’ll be hunted out there,’ said Heryst. ‘At least I offer you life.’
‘Life?’ said Hirad. ‘Hear that, Darrick?’
‘I hear.’
Denser spoke his short incantation. Heryst slumped backwards, Hirad cushioning his head. The main door splintered.
‘Run,’ he said.
The Unknown swept Erienne up and followed Thraun and Darrick across the short space to the stables. The shapechanger hurdled the paddock fencing and ran in through broad, open doors. Darrick pulled open a side door and disappeared inside.
The Unknown ran in after Darrick with Denser and Hirad right behind him. One man lay on the ground, groaning and clutching at nose and groin. ‘Thought you said it was empty.’
Hirad shrugged and pushed past him, leading the way through the tack room, past the saddle bars and on into the stables themselves. The pungent smells of dung and wet straw filled the air; the sounds of agitated horses mixed with the calls to arms from outside. Thraun’s silhouette was framed against the night sky as he worked in the dark stables, unlatching gates and pulling horses out, his eyes piercing the shadows easily.
‘Hirad, take the spare. I’ll carry Erienne, she can’t ride. Let’s go, let’s go!’ said The Unknown, turning his head as he ran.
Lysternan soldiers were moving quickly through the tack room. Ahead, Darrick had vaulted into his saddle the way only a cavalryman could and had snatched up a rake. Hirad was climbing aboard and Thraun had opened the last stable gate.
The Unknown switched Erienne from his arms to over his left shoulder, put a foot in the stirrup and heaved himself on to his mount, pain flaring in his hip. He moved Erienne to sit in the saddle in front of him. An arrow thudded into a timber by his head.
‘Ride, Raven. Ride!’
He yanked hard at the reins, turning his horse to the entrance. He dug in his heels and the animal sprang forwards. Darrick rode back down the stables, whirling the rake in his right hand. He heard the whistle as it whipped through the air and the dull thwack of wood on leather.
The Raven surged out into the paddock. Next to The Unknown, Denser was preparing. Just behind, Hirad hunched low, his left hand clutching the reins of Erienne’s horse. Thraun came to The Unknown’s right-hand side and he heard Darrick yelling his horse to greater effort.
The Raven Collection Page 218
