The Raven Collection

by James Barclay

  Darrick was nodding. ‘I noticed. Well, we can do some fitness work on board ship as well as practice with those maces Blackthorne gave us.’

  ‘It won’t be enough.’

  ‘Every little helps. And believe me, we’ll get fit quickly once we’re in action.’

  ‘That assumes we live long enough,’ said The Unknown.

  Darrick opened his mouth to reply but paused and frowned. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but this does not sound like you.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it does. But then I’ve never been about to take on an enemy I’d be worried about losing to if I was accompanied by an army. Gods drowning, Darrick, there are about ten of us. What chance do we really have?’

  ‘On our own, none. That’s why we’re calling on dragons to help us and the rest of Balaia to fight. It’s why Erienne is training so hard. Unknown, you can’t afford to think like this.’

  ‘Why do you think I’m airing this when only you, the Protectors and our oarsmen can hear me? And they can’t understand a word I’m saying.’

  ‘You’re worried what Hirad will think if he knows you’re like this?’

  ‘Course I am,’ snapped The Unknown. ‘Look. This is going to be really difficult. Like nothing we’ve ever done before. And I felt lethargic fighting those demons. Really slow.’ The Unknown shook his head again. ‘I’ve done nothing but half-hearted sparring with Ark for two years, what else do I expect? The point is, I want you to watch us, all of us. You have the eye of the professional soldier still, it’s not something you ever lose. I want you to tell me anything that is awry with how we do things. Hirad will take it from me better than you and we can’t afford to fall out. Watch Erienne especially. I don’t like the way she reacted last night. She’s not handling the pressure so well and we’ve barely begun.’ He sighed and looked at Darrick, saw the understanding in the General’s eyes. ‘If she falls apart . . .’

  ‘She has The Raven behind her,’ said Darrick.

  ‘One day, even that isn’t going to be enough.’

  ‘Hey, well let’s make sure it isn’t this time, eh?’

  The Unknown relaxed a little. ‘Yeah, let’s do that.’

  Baron Blackthorne strolled up to the periphery of the ColdRoom shielding and barked for Ferouc. He was used to delay and this time was no exception. He stood calm and quiet until the demon master was in front of him.

  The dawn had been chill and the early morning sun was doing little to warm the land. It left Blackthorne almost glad he had no vines in the ground. In these conditions, they would have withered anyway. He lamented the loss of the vineyards and the object of his blame floated before him, his membranous wings rippling to keep him airborne. He was a comfortable shade of deep blue, his skin still. Not for long.

  Blackthorne had gathered all his commanders with him to gauge Ferouc’s reaction. It was a gamble but, as Hirad had said on more than one occasion, this was a time for gambles.

  ‘It’s a fine morning isn’t it?’ said Blackthorne, adjusting his coat against the cold breeze.

  ‘Every day the air you breathe makes us stronger,’ replied Ferouc. ‘Your time to strut about your meagre kingdom is short.’

  ‘Ah, but is it? You’ve not tasted real frustration barring your abject failure to take my town, have you? How does it feel to know a damaging reverse?’

  Ferouc looked nonplussed. ‘I am not aware that I had experienced one.’

  Blackthorne made an extravagance of turning round to smile at those gathered behind him, taking in the protective steel of those closest to him.

  ‘Well, well, well.’ He couldn’t suppress a heartfelt chuckle of genuine surprise and pleasure. ‘This is better than I could possibly have hoped.’

  Consternation flickered briefly across Ferouc’s features, characterised by a shifting of veins and a modulating of his pigment. ‘I fail to see any cause for amusement in your position.’

  ‘Our position? No, my jailer, you misunderstand as so often. We are laughing at you.’ Blackthorne cleared his throat. ‘I would have thought you could sense their absence much as you sensed their arrival. But what’s really amusing is that you clearly never had any inkling at all that they’d left. You haven’t even mounted a pursuit, have you, Fidget?’

  Ferouc snarled, his colour paling dramatically. Veins writhed under his skin and the muscles across his chest rippled violently. His fingers clacked together.

  ‘You are lying.’

  ‘No, I am not. The Raven have gone. Spirited away from beneath your noses, Fidget. That’s why you can’t sense them. And you can’t, can you?’ Blackthorne paused. ‘But if you don’t believe me, search for yourself. I’ll guarantee you safe passage around my town. It’ll be uncomfortable for you but I expect you’ll live. Long enough to report back to your masters that you have lost something you so very badly wanted.’

  Ferouc opened his mouth and emitted a high-pitched shriek. He tore into the air. Blackthorne followed his path which criss-crossed the town. He would pause occasionally, dart to the edges of the lattice, sniff and back away. But largely it was a frenzied movement, desperate. When he landed again, his rage was almost too intense for him to speak. His skin was a pulsing, roiling bright blue.

  ‘Where have you hidden them?’ he managed.

  ‘My dear Fidget,’ said Blackthorne calmly and quietly. ‘I assure you they are gone from here. My, it’s as if you were scared of them being outside your control.’

  And there it was. Just what Blackthorne had been hoping to see. A flicker across Ferouc’s eyes and a trembling through his body. Fear. The first time any of them had seen it but unmistakable nevertheless.

  ‘You will pay dearly for this.’

  ‘Really? Going to kill more of the already-dead, are you? Please. There is nothing you can do to hurt us further. But we have released The Raven and there is much they can do to hurt you. The world is turning, Fidget, and you have been found wanting.’

  With a second shriek, Ferouc was gone, high into the sky, calling his cohorts to him.

  ‘See that?’ Blackthorne pointed at the fast-receding figure. ‘That is why we must fight on. Fidget knows as well as we do what The Raven represent. We’ve been divided and kept weak. The Raven can unite us and they fear that more than anything.

  ‘Now, I think you should prepare those under your command. I imagine things might get a little warm around here.’

  For fifteen days, the Calaian Sun sailed the southern, eastern and finally northern coasts of Balaia. The view from the starboard rail was endlessly striking and beguiling. Untamed landscapes, stark cliffs and glorious expanses of white sand studded the coastline with the promise of much more beyond.

  Not that The Raven saw a great deal of it between dawn and dusk. Darrick put them through a punishing regime of exercise as tough as that to which Lysternan cavalry recruits had been exposed in years gone by.

  He had them spar for hours with their new maces; relay-race with weighted barrels; and climb the mainmast rigging using just their hands. He had them swim laps around the ship when the wind was light; he cut lengths of rope for skipping and pressed longboat oars into service as group exercise poles. It wasn’t with a view to bringing great gains in their speed and endurance but for them to test themselves, feel the state of their bodies and give them just a little more sharpness.

  And unlike in years gone by, he participated in every exercise, putting himself through extra rounds if he felt he was below standard. And while he drove them as hard as he could, he watched them, fascinated. They grumbled as he knew they had to but every task was undertaken with enormous energy, spirit and determination. They fed off each other. If the battles to come could be won by sheer will alone, they would be unstoppable.

  Individually, though, he had his concerns about them. Besides himself, Hirad had remained very fit. His time with Auum and Rebraal had dictated that. But that couldn’t hide the fact that he was not a long way from forty years old and just not as fast as he used to be
.

  The Unknown Warrior’s problem wasn’t so much his forty-two years but the long-term degradation of his left hip following his hideous injury on the docks at Arlen over three years before. It stiffened quickly in the chill water and relay-running had him limping from early on. That and the inevitable softening gained from two years’ easy living on Herendeneth. It was the difference between farming fit and fighting fit and it could prove fatal.

  Thraun looked and acted no different. Quiet, withdrawn at times and without an ounce of excess bodyweight. Life on Calaius had clearly suited him.

  But Denser and Erienne worried him the most. Their contentment at being back where they truly belonged, in the bosom of The Raven, was undermined by their awareness of the situation. It wasn’t that they were unwilling; they would quickly become as fit and capable as ever if allowed the time. It was that he could see in their eyes that they simply weren’t ready. Not for the task ahead, not to put their lives at risk as a daily habit and not to accept the responsibility that had been thrust upon them.

  And Erienne was clearly struggling to make sense of what she was required to do. It drew her attention away, took her edge.

  Darrick knew he could rely utterly on the elves. And the Protectors still maintained their aura of confidence, inscrutable even without their masks. No, the problems all lay at the heart of the operation, with The Raven themselves.

  He spoke to The Unknown Warrior every evening and the big man listened. He spoke candidly about his hip, but like all of The Raven was far more concerned about his friends than himself.

  ‘Everyone needs to understand the reality of their situation and limitations,’ Darrick had said one evening. ‘And that includes you just as it includes me.’

  ‘I’ll be all right.’

  ‘That’s exactly the problem, Unknown. Until you accept that you’re not twenty-one any more, you’ll be taking too much risk.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ said The Unknown Warrior.

  ‘Judging by what I see out there under exercise, no,’ replied Darrick. ‘Don’t get me wrong. We’re an extraordinary team. The weapon skills are still there, the belief is undimmed and the will is staggering. But it’s been two years since Julatsa and our stamina is not what it was. That’s why we struggled after the short fight the other day. We aren’t used to that exertion and it showed. The trouble is, you all still act like you fight every day. You don’t conserve because you’ve never had to.

  ‘You asked me to do this, Unknown. Now listen to what I’m saying. You’re the one who has to relate this to the rest of The Raven. And you-know-who isn’t going to like it.’

  ‘Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘We haven’t got time for tact,’ said Darrick.

  ‘Hirad’s never thought so.’

  ‘Then he should respect what you tell him.’

  ‘You know, Darrick, that is no help whatsoever.’

  The Calaian Sun dropped anchor in the quiet waters of Triverne Inlet on a chill but sunlit morning. All eyes scanned the eastern shore, searching for signs of demon activity. They found none, keen elven sight revealing only late spring growth in a peaceful landscape.

  From the shore, Hirad watched the ship take sail and turn for the open sea once more. Jevin took vital messages home with him for the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar. Should The Raven fail and Balaia’s colleges fall to the demons, the elves would have to prepare for invasion.

  Hirad turned to them, assembled on the sandy beach.

  ‘This is it, then,’ he said. ‘I still think we should be coming with you to Julatsa.’

  Rebraal shook his head. ‘You know what was discussed. The cursyrd want you. You’ll endanger us all in there.’ He smiled. ‘Besides, we’re quicker without you. See you at the lake.’

  ‘Don’t be late.’ Hirad hugged Ilkar’s brother and clasped hands with each of the TaiGethen then finally, Eilaan. ‘Remember why we’re doing this.’

  The elves ran away towards Julatsa and were soon lost to sight. Hirad felt exposed without them.

  ‘Come on, Raven,’ he said. ‘We can make the lake by tomorrow nightfall if we sail through the night.’

  The Raven returned to the longboat which had been fitted with a single mast for their journey along the River Tri. With packs already stowed under the gunwales and benches, they were under way quickly. The atmosphere, as it had been outside Blackthorne, was oppressive. Only the sound of the breeze rustling reeds and grass came over the gentle burble of the water against the timbers of the hull. Balaia was dying meekly.

  Despite being unlikely to encounter any demons in countryside bare of all but scattered farms and hamlets, they kept very quiet throughout the trip, resting as much as possible. Thraun in wolven form scouted ahead periodically, giving them extra security.

  The Unknown took his time to watch The Raven during this curiously peaceful interlude. Despite his own concerns and those raised more recently by Darrick, he felt happier with the tightness he saw around him now. Two years apart had dulled them without question but their time aboard ship had rekindled their spirit of togetherness. But what they had to guard against was overconfidence in the fight. Looking across at Hirad, it was not a conversation he was looking forward to having. He’d save it for Triverne Lake. Now was not the time.

  ‘We all feeling all right?’ he asked.

  Darrick raised a thumb from his position on the tiller. Erienne and Denser, sitting together and talking in whispers, both nodded. Thraun’s eyes were sparkling after a recent run in the undergrowth and Hirad grunted assent.

  ‘Hard to believe we’re headed for the toughest days of our lives, isn’t it?’ said the barbarian. ‘This is all very pleasant.’

  ‘Don’t lose focus,’ said The Unknown.

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Denser, Erienne, a question for you.’ The Unknown waited for them to look back to him. ‘This information that Blackthorne got from Lystern about the sanctity of the Hearts. What do you think? We’re relying on it, after all.’

  Erienne shook her head. ‘Not really my area,’ she said, a smile on her lips. ‘Demons are more Denser’s thing. He used to own one after all.’

  Denser jabbed a finger into her side. ‘Technically correct. I suppose whether it’s likely or not, I trust information from Heryst and Lystern. Actually, despite my wife’s denial, we’ve been talking about this a fair bit and it makes good sense. Look at it this way.

  ‘Best intelligence suggests that the demons are here to stay, to milk the life force of this dimension for as long as they can, not just rape it and move on. That means they need to keep people alive and mages particularly. Not just because of their souls but because they hold the key to mana. Demons are mana creatures, why would they destroy that which they need to live? The answer is, they wouldn’t. Not if they plan to stay. We know they’re flooding mana into Balaia, that’s why it’s getting so cold. And in future years, the Hearts will keep it from dissipating, give them a base from which to rule.’

  ‘But we know something they don’t, don’t we?’ said Darrick.

  ‘You’re talking about the Julatsa experience, I presume,’ said Denser.

  ‘Absolutely. Which raises an interesting question. Should we not be considering burying all the Hearts if colleges have to be deserted? ’

  ‘No no no no no,’ said Erienne quickly. ‘For one, we can’t assume the mages are there that know how to bury the Hearts. But much more than that, burying the Heart takes what little strength we have for a long battle. The Hearts are useful to the demons but hardly critical to their success, I’d say. But the other part of your point the survivors will be forced to employ if the demons break us finally. We do know that Hearts die without mages to sustain the mana flow but will the demons believe us?’

  ‘Well, we’ll never have to find out, will we?’ said Hirad. ‘Because either we’ll have beaten them or we’ll all be dead.’

  The Raven reached the stunning setting of Triverne Lake deep into evening. T
he fading light reflected off the lake’s surface, picking out the extraordinary beauty of the landscape. Triverne Lake lay at the base of the Blackthorne Mountains. The lake waters, touched by magic, were sheltered, giving perfect conditions for the vibrant green vegetation that bordered them on three sides. Only the eastern shore was open. In the half-light, little of the colour of the vegetation that burgeoned among the trees was visible. But the sense was there of a spectacular matting that clung far up into the foothills before the cooler air running off the mountains let only hardier scrub, moss and heather grow plentiful. Last time he was here, Hirad remembered the calls of thousands of birds. This time it was quiet and as the longboat nudged the shore, it was clear that the beauty was tarnished.

  Thraun trotted over the open ground towards them as they climbed out of the boat. Hirad brought his clothes and left them in a pile on the shore. The wolf trotted up to them and sniffed them closely, a contented growling in his throat. The rest of The Raven walked away up the short beach to give him a little privacy.

  ‘There’s been fighting here,’ said Darrick.

  The Unknown nodded. ‘Indeed there has.’

  The ground underfoot was broken and scuffed deeply. Grass lay flattened and dead, the earth was cut and scored, scattered with loose clods. Far to the right, haphazard stones thrust twenty feet into the air, remnants of an EarthHammer casting. And everywhere were the dark stains of blood and the blackened scorches of spell impact.

  ‘Strange, eh?’ said Hirad.

  Darrick agreed. ‘You’d have expected some scraps at least but this place has been cleaned.’

  ‘Thorough, these demons, aren’t they?’

  ‘So sure it was them?’ said The Unknown.

  ‘Spell battle at the birthplace of magic,’ said Darrick. ‘And recently, too. Hirad’s right, I’d say.’