The Raven Collection

by James Barclay

  Chandyr had no time to don his armour, merely grabbed his sword and ran from his tent. He’d been awake, just composing himself to get out and organise the cook fires. He’d wanted to be away at dawn. The first impact had been enough and he’d left his tent before the second and third had hit. There had been no prior warning and that was what made him seethe.

  ‘Get out to the margins!’ he yelled, hurdling a fire pit and racing out to where the green Lysternan mana fires were burning tents and helpless soldiers. ‘Get the cavalry mounted. What did I bloody tell you!’

  So quick, so incisive, exactly as he had warned. While his mages were preparing shield defence and attack, he heard the thundering of hooves.

  ‘To arms!’ he hollered. ‘Where was my fucking perimeter!’

  He was joined by some of the quicker minds and limbs. Ahead of him, all was in disarray. He could see six tents on fire, men running in every direction, too many straight towards him.

  ‘Get back. Think it’s over?’

  And in they came, forty-plus horses and riders in close form, undoubtedly under a defensive shield. It would be a single thrust, just like he’d said. Izack wasn’t amongst them, he saw that immediately, but they didn’t need him. They rode thirty strides into his camp, chopping down any one that got in their way, those mages not involved in the shield dropping HotRain and scattering men and precious equipment with ForceCones. Torches in the hands of half the riders flipped away, setting more tents and wagons on fire.

  They had turned and begun to ride out before the first spell lit up their shield and the first arrows flew in. That brought down one man. One. His own cavalry galloped around to his right, setting off in pursuit. They wouldn’t catch them. They had a hundred and fifty yards and it was more than they needed. At least it would keep them from another attack. Not that Chandyr thought they planned one.

  He stopped running and slammed his sword flat on to the ground.

  ‘Shit!’

  He rubbed his hands across his face and set them on his hips, his face burning with an anger he had scarcely felt in his life before. All around him, the bedlam was in full flow. Injured men were being helped away, orders were being called to get the fires out and the cries of the dying echoed into a dark sky just edging with first light.

  A lieutenant, smeared with soot and with a livid wound across his cheek ran up, saluting smartly, his expression betraying his apprehension. Chandyr glared at him.

  ‘Don’t try and make it sound good,’ he said. ‘This is a calamity that could have been avoided had any of you idiots listened to a damn word I said. Just report.’

  ‘We didn’t see them,’ he replied, voice shaking. ‘The perimeter was set but they were on us from the dark.’

  ‘Which way were they looking, eh?’ snapped Chandyr. ‘There is no way those spells could have reached our tents without the mages being inside the perimeter. That is why I set it where I did. You’re telling me you didn’t see them? None of you? Where was the alarm, tell me that?’ He stepped in very close. ‘Men have died because you were not watching. You let your guard slip and the men under your command were either slacking or sleeping.

  ‘You will consider yourself relieved of your duties. Join your column when we march. I’ll be promoting your sergeant. Dismissed. ’

  ‘Sir.’

  Chandyr turned to face the rest of his command team, who had sensibly assembled behind him.

  ‘This will not happen again. I cannot afford to lose men to incompetence and dereliction of duty. This is not some jaunt. We are facing desperate men and some very skilful leadership. We can still lose this fight if we are not at our best for every hour of every day.

  ‘Right, I want a full report on the casualties and hardware we lost, and I want the perimeter guards who managed to avoid seeing forty cavalrymen in front of me by the time I reach my tent, assuming they are still alive. Move.’

  Chandyr watched them go, spun on his heel and took a slow walk back through his camp.

  The moment Thraun confirmed that Cleress had joined Erienne once more, The Raven had ridden from the elven camp. They were at little more than a canter, the shapechanger still carrying the stricken One mage and holding her head against his chest. To balance her against him, he leaned back in his saddle. It was uncomfortable but it would serve.

  They put quick miles between themselves and the elves, heading due north. ClawBound had run with them for a time but soon peeled away to continue their scouting. It was another two days’ long ride to Julatsa. Two days in which they had to survive the best Xetesk could throw at them while distracting those same enemies from attacking the Al-Arynaar mages on whom so much hope had come to rest.

  They were still so much below strength. Darrick was pale and weak but recovering, Hirad had problems with his right wrist and they were all tired from so little rest. Thraun himself was feeling strong but his heart was weary. He tried to be strong for Denser, to believe that Erienne could live through this but in truth, he was unsure. Not because he didn’t believe that she was strong but that he wasn’t sure anyone would have the sheer will.

  It was curious. He didn’t know why he should think this way or why he should know so much. He was not schooled in any of the art behind the One magic, nor any magic. But something was giving him feelings that helped him to understand. Perhaps it was the elemental nature of the One magic. He too was close to nature in the raw, could smell its moods. But the actual link between that and his innate sense of the trouble in Erienne’s mind was one that eluded him.

  She had not moved since she had fallen back in the catacombs and he had sworn on seeing her that he would not leave her side until she awoke. The Raven had seemed to understand. And for Denser, it had relieved him to do what he had to do, though the strain was telling on him quickly, both mentally and physically.

  Thraun had managed to feed Erienne, stroking her throat to trigger the automatic swallow response, and had cleaned her too. He would not stand by while she lay helpless. He and Denser had maintained her dignity, desperate in their own ways to do anything they could to help her.

  He wondered whether she could sense him through her unconsciousness. He hoped so and that in some fashion it gave her comfort and left her free to fight the One. He rode with Denser next to him. The Unknown and Hirad were at the front, both with other horses tethered to their saddles. Darrick was behind them, a spare mount with him too.

  No one challenged them the entire morning. The sky had been clear and bright since dawn and mercifully free of the erratically moving dark shapes of familiars. But they were under no illusion that they would be followed. They might get clear of foot-bound assassins but Chandyr wasn’t stupid, and if he could get riders through, particularly mage defenders and familiared masters, he would do so, trailing them until dusk, when they would be at their most vulnerable.

  It was a great risk they were taking but one they felt they had to take. The elves would move better without them and had mapped a separate path to bring them to Julatsa. Given that they would run late into the night, it was touch and go which of them would arrive first. Thraun wondered whether The Raven would arrive at all.

  The shudder that ran through Erienne’s body had been so sudden that he had nearly let her fall. She had spasmed twice and murmured something unintelligible.

  ‘Denser! Raven stop!’

  He pulled up sharply and climbed from his horse with her in his arms, laying her on dry grass under a warm mid-afternoon sun. The Raven came running, gathering round him, staring down at her.

  ‘What is it?’ said Denser, dropping to his knees.

  ‘She moved,’ he said.

  But she was still again. Denser’s face creased.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Thraun nodded. ‘She fights. Cleress fights.’

  ‘What does it mean?’ asked Hirad.

  ‘Let’s not lose focus, Raven,’ said The Unknown. ‘We’ll break and eat, it seems a good time. Hirad, Darrick, let’s check out the imme
diate vicinity. If we aren’t defensible we’ll move until we are.’

  Thraun didn’t look up while his friends ran away to their tasks. He just gazed down at Erienne, praying for her to open her eyes.

  Erienne didn’t understand what Cleress was asking her to do. Like falling on the fire to snuff it out, or plugging the hole by wedging your own body in. It didn’t make any sense.

  I will be giving myself up to it. This is surrender, Cleress.

  It might be that, child, but I don’t think we have any other choice.

  Why not?

  I am failing, Erienne. I cannot get enough rest and the power in you is burgeoning so strongly. I know what your husband is doing and it must be exhausting him too. But he is young and I am old and so tired, Erienne. And what I do to hold back the One is so much more draining than the shield he casts. He does all he can and it is not enough. I do all I can and I am merely holding back the inevitable too.

  Erienne thought she had heard Cleress beaten before. But the sheer enervation in the Al-Drechar’s voice sent shivers through her subconscious mind where she had retreated to battle the enemy within her.

  You can’t leave me alone.

  I will be with you for as long as I have the breath.

  Erienne considered for a moment. The wheel had turned full circle. For so long she had shunned the Al-Drechar, refused to let them enter her mind to help her, believing that she could hold back the One on her own, stifle it until it withered and died. But the pain had become too much and she had been forced to grudgingly let them in. But they had helped her so much. Only time had been too short. Even with Myriell, it had been a struggle and she had feared being alone. Now there was just Cleress and she already knew why she feared solitude inside her mind. The spider’s legs clamped ever tighter when she was on her own.

  She craved Cleress’s mind-touch and soothing caress. Was not sure if the knowledge that it had gone would be too much for her. To fight the spider alone, that bulk pressing down, the legs clamped over her will, crushing, trying to break it. She shivered violently.

  That’s good, said Cleress. Your friends will know you are still alive in here.

  That isn’t funny, Cleress. This isn’t a game.

  I know that, child! But you must retain yourself if you are to succeed. And for that you have to remember you are flesh and blood. Always remember that.

  What difference will that make?

  If you forget who you are, the One will take you.

  You know I can’t do this.

  I know that you must, child, or we are lost anyway. I will protect you for as long as I can but you must understand that the power you are about to let flow through your entire body will quickly overwhelm me. You must be ready to snap out. You will only get one chance. Will you do it?

  But you have so much to teach me.

  You will have to learn it for yourself. And that is the hardest road of all.

  Cleress, does it have to be now? Don’t you think you have longer?

  Child, every time I go to sleep I am surprised to see the dawn. It has to be now, while I have the will left in me.

  Erienne let the thoughts run wild in her mind for a while, feeling the One shifting, trying to tighten its grip but she and Cleress combined to keep prising up the legs. Yet she had known deep down that it was always a temporary measure. That Cleress would announce a solution sometime or other. And the time was now. It was just that the solution seemed pure madness.

  Let’s try it, then.

  Remember, Erienne, what you are using your body to do. You have to be aware of every part of it. Feel it with your mind. Force the One to distribute through you.

  I don’t like being a plug.

  If this works, Erienne, believe me, you will be a great deal more than that.

  And if it doesn’t?

  I hope The Raven can run fast enough.

  I wish you could hold my hand through this.

  Ah, Erienne, to hold you close through your torment is all I desire but I’m afraid that chance is gone now. Keep this in mind. Do what I ask successfully and physical contact will be returned to you.

  So, this is goodbye, is it?

  We’ll see, child, we’ll see.

  Thank you.

  No, you are the one who we all should thank. You are the one who can save everything we hold dear.

  Why?

  You will survive this and you will see. One day soon, I think.

  You can’t tantalise me like that! Erienne felt indignation growing in her.

  It’s all I can clearly see. But use it to help your determination. Erienne, this will hurt you. The One will fight you and those dearest to you will have to understand. It is a power you cannot fight with your mind alone, not yet, and that is why you need the substance of your whole body. It is a skill we have all learned. For you it will be difficult as you will be alone. Remember, you are a One mage with everything that is you.

  I think I understand.

  Good. Then let us begin.

  Erienne felt Cleress leave direct contact. She withdrew into her subconscious, and looked within herself, seeing the One entity there, menacing, determined to break her will. And she saw it buckle suddenly and withdraw, become smaller somehow, as Cleress drove it back with everything that she had left.

  It was now or never. Dragging every iota of her belief to her, she broke from her subconscious, feeling the pain through her body as she reached out once again to the body she had abandoned. She felt herself judder, saw the One react and fight back, trying to expand itself to crush her back into the small space she had occupied and where it could bring maximum force. So hard to believe it wasn’t sentient but a power reacting automatically to her mind and body. Better she kept the thought of its sentience alive; it gave her more to focus on.

  With the One still shrouded in Cleress’s essence, she fought her way back to her conscious state. It was like swimming up from a great depth, her breath locked into her lungs and bursting to get out. She could not fail, had to reach the surface. Sensation returned to her fingers and toes. She could feel the air on her face and hear, indistinctly, the sounds of voices. Still locked inside herself, she battered at the One, pushing it further back, feeling Cleress with her for one fleeting moment.

  And then she was gone and the One spread to envelop her once again. This time, though, she was ready, and though it wrenched at her muscle and thought, she swam upwards still, defying the power that sought to drag her back down. She saw the body of the spider flatten and spread, the legs try to grip her consciousness as it expanded to every extremity.

  It was too slow. She felt herself judder again, felt a tingling across her skin and the feel of her clothes. The surface of her mind was so near. The noise of life assaulted her ears, she could smell horse and grass and . . . and Denser.

  Gasping in a lungful of air, she opened her eyes.

  The joy that flooded through Denser weakened him and he almost fell on top of her, just managing to lock his elbows again. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her tongue seeking his. Almost at once, she let go and lay back down, looking at him.

  ‘You’re back, love, you’ve beaten it.’ She did not reflect his smile.

  ‘No, Denser,’ she said and she sighed as if in pain. ‘Remember I love you. Remember I love all of you. Whatever happens now.’

  ‘I don’t understand? You’re awake, you’ve won.’

  ‘It is in me now,’ she replied. ‘It touches everywhere. Please don’t think badly of me.’

  ‘Why would I ever—?’

  He saw something pass across her eyes, like a black cloud across moonlight. And when she looked at him again, those eyes were so cold.

  Chapter 35

  Dystran had thought to ride with his small army to Julatsa but Ranyl had dissuaded him, despite the lure of glory. Another wise decision, given what he had heard from Chandyr via Communion report this morning. What would he do without him?

  He
had sat in Ranyl’s rooms for much of the day, talking to his dying friend, acutely aware of the brevity of the time they had left together. The old master had reacted badly to the attack on Xetesk and the intrusion into his chambers, shock settling on him, weighing him down.

  ‘I could not have fought back,’ he said for the tenth time that day. ‘I was powerless.’

  Ranyl was sitting in his favourite chair by the fire which roared out heat despite the warmth of the day beyond his open balcony doors. His hands wrung together, his face was damp with sweat, and the agony of his cancer was evident in every breath he drew. His skin had taken on a yellow pallor and his body had a distinct tremor to it. He had refused food all day.

  ‘They meant you no harm,’ said Dystran gently. ‘It was me who failed you. I am sorry.’

  ‘I was in my own chambers and they just walked in,’ he said.

  Dystran could see the fear in those bright, wise eyes and was reminded that great mage though he was, Ranyl was first and foremost an old, tired man facing death and scared at the prospect.

  ‘I have news for you,’ said Dystran, determining to take his mind off it.

  It was news he had known since before dawn but had not revealed while Ranyl struggled with his pain as he always did for half of the day. At such times, it was best to talk memories but today, his mind had been preoccupied.

  ‘Oh yes?’ Ranyl perked up and Dystran wondered if he had made a mistake in delaying.

  ‘As you know, we put scouts into the field last night,’ he said. ‘It seems the damage we inflicted was worse than we hoped. The southern and western camps have been abandoned. They are moving north but of course almost a day behind us.’

  ‘It was an obvious move in some respects,’ said Ranyl, straightening in his chair. ‘They have guessed rightly that we cannot afford to send men from here to harry them, we would leave ourselves too exposed. And they of course, can no longer attack us here. Are we assuming they are headed for Julatsa or are they actually going to return to Dordover and Lystern?’