She smiled as she saw the family picture in front of her. Beside Erienne, Denser stirred and rolled over, grunting as he sat up.
“It seems such a shame to make you move,” said Nerane. “You look perfect together.”
Erienne looked across at the half-asleep Denser. She saw his tousled hair, uncombed beard and his slack mouth open and laughed. “Are you sure?”
“You know what I mean,” said Nerane. She left the tray on a table near the bed.
“What else did The Unknown say?” asked Erienne.
“The Dordovans are on the beach and spreading through the island. They'll encircle us soon. The Al-Drechar shield is up and steady, everyone is inside the house and you need to move from here soon because the doors to the wing need to be sealed and blocked.”
“Did he make you learn all that?” asked Denser, looking down and noticing his daughter. “Oh, hello you.”
“Hello, Daddy.”
“At least I know why my back hurts so much,” said Denser.
“I don't think it's got much to do with Lyanna,” said Erienne.
Nerane had blushed and was backing toward the door. “The Unknown Warrior says that next time he'll send Hirad to make you get up.”
“Incentive indeed,” said Denser. “Thank you, Nerane. Tell him it won't be necessary.”
The old elf left, closing the door quietly behind her. Denser looked deep into Erienne's eyes and she felt a longing it would have been impossible to deny but for Lyanna between them. He reached out and put a hand to her cheek, which she covered with hers.
“So this is it, then,” he said.
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Erienne.
He nodded, his lower lip trembling. “Just remember how much I love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“And I'll love you, wherever I am,” she replied.
Lyanna squirmed. “What's wrong, Mummy?”
“Nothing darling, nothing at all.”
Hirad placed the last of the Al-Drechar's beds in the kitchen, near to the stove to enjoy its heat.
“So did they get any of the assassins?” he asked.
“Three,” said The Unknown.
“Good going,” said Hirad. “And no one got inside?”
“Not that we know. But Ren thought she saw a flyer. We can assume they've seen the orchard and know the size of the house. The Al-Drechar said no one touched the shield.”
Hirad sat at the table and drew his blade, honing its edge on a whetstone he'd borrowed from the Guild elves. He felt alive. There was a fight to come, the odds were stacked against them but The Raven were always to be reckoned with.
“So how long before they attack?”
“Any time,” said The Unknown. “They aren't massed yet but it won't be long. We should get to our places.”
Hirad checked the edge of his sword and, satisfied, stood and sheathed it, automatically checking his daggers were also in their sheaths. The door to the dining room swung open and the Al-Drechar came in, supported by Guild elves.
“All right, ladies?” asked Hirad.
Myriell gave him a withering look. “I had thought my days in the kitchen well and truly over,” she said.
“Well, we'll try and keep it as brief as possible,” said Hirad. “Then we can talk about my dragons.”
He smiled and waited for them to pass before walking into the ballroom via the dining room, a worry nagging at him. He'd tried to speak with Sha-Kaan but had found his mind closed. Either that or dead. He hoped their rest would save them but he remembered Sha-Kaan's weary mind the last time they had shared contact and feared the worst. How the Raven could do with their power today.
He shook his head and moved on, The Unknown limping beside him, having checked that the blocked entrances were as secure as they could be. Through the ballroom and down the corridor, the door to the Guild wing opened and Denser appeared, belting on his sword.
“In your own time,” said Hirad as he strode past.
“Ha ha,” said Denser.
“I'll ask the Dordovans to wait for you,” returned Hirad.
“If you wouldn't mind.”
“Hirad,” warned The Unknown. “Come on.”
They carried on down the corridor. The Protectors were already on station and in the near dark Hirad could pick out one of the elves in the orchard, hidden under a fallen branch that had made an arch with the wall. Further on down the corridor, they found Darrick prowling, his sword as yet sheathed but his face taut with nervous concentration.
“Morning, General,” said Hirad, grinning, as they stopped by him.
“Is he always like this?” asked Darrick.
“Always,” said The Unknown. “You get used to it. Sort of.”
“All ready?” asked Hirad, feeling he ought to bring himself to order. He felt strangely lightheaded, the thrill of imminent action charging his mind and body. But he knew he couldn't afford to be unfocused.
“Just the door to the Guild wing to seal and we're there. We've got a little breathing space, assuming we're right about the bombardment.”
“Should the elves be out in the orchard?” asked Hirad.
“The shield bleeds over the near edge of the orchard and it's a calculated risk we have to take. I can't afford to be surprised there and I don't want Dordovans seeing where our defenders are hidden.”
Hirad put out his hand and Darrick shook it warmly, doing likewise with The Unknown.
“Just shout if you need more bodies,” said Hirad.
“And you,” said Darrick.
The Raven pair moved on, walking as fast as The Unknown could go, across the entrance hall to where Ilkar was already waiting with Aeb and the Protectors.
“We all ready?” asked Hirad.
“Spell shield already up,” said Ilkar, his voice reflecting his concentration. “It's covering the door.”
“Good,” said Hirad. “Now where the hell are Denser and Erienne?”
Lyanna sat on a chair at the end of the kitchen table looking awfully small and scared. Erienne was crouching by her, stroking her hair and whispering to her, trying to calm her. Lyanna was clutching her doll and, though she nodded occasionally, Denser could see her eyes darting continually to the Protectors, who stood stock still around the kitchen. He understood her fear.
He walked across to his family, past the sympathetic but slightly unfocused gazes of the Al-Drechar.
“How's she doing?” he asked.
“Just about all right,” said Erienne.
Denser leant in and kissed Lyanna's cheek. “You'll be safest here, you know,” he said.
“But I want to be with you,” complained Lyanna.
“It'll be dangerous out there, my sweet,” said Erienne. “You'll be safer here with Ephy and Clerry and Myra, don't you think?”
Lyanna looked around the room her little brow furrowed. “I don't like these men. Why have they got masks on? And why don't they ever say anything?”
Erienne looked to Denser who raised his eyebrows. This was hardly the time to try and explain the Protector calling to a five-year-old.
“They are special soldiers from where I come from,” said Denser. “Don't worry about the masks, they wear them to make them better at fighting and they are in here just to look after you.”
Lyanna nodded. “All right.”
“Now listen to me, darling,” said Erienne. “It's going to be very noisy here and there will be lots of shouting and it will be scary. But you mustn't try to come and find us because it will be very dangerous for you. We'll be all right, don't you worry. Will you be brave for me?”
“I'll try,” said Lyanna.
“There's a good girl,” said Denser. “Now if you get too scared, then go and cuddle one of the old ladies. They love you too.”
Lyanna nodded.
There was a crump which echoed through the house.
“It's started,” said Denser. He knelt and hugged his daughter. “I'll see you a little bit later.”
“Bye Dad
dy,” said Lyanna.
Erienne hugged her too. “Be a good girl and do what the masked men say, won't you?”
With a lingering look at their daughter, they left the kitchen and ran to join The Raven.
“On my order and not before!” roared Vuldaroq as the solitary FlameOrb soared away to splash against a shield. He turned to Gorstan, who had been the lead mage in Arlen. “I want concentrated spells; I want as much of this house destroyed as you can manage but I expect you to stop before you exhaust yourselves if you are getting nowhere.
“He may have been an idiot to cast early but it was an education, was it not? That was not a shield from any College I've ever seen.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Right. Cast at will. And remember, advise me before the last spells are away. I have an attack to order.”
“Was that it?” asked Hirad. “I—”
“Wow,” said Ilkar, rocking slightly and sensing significant movement in the mana. “Here it comes.”
A moment's silence and then the spells thundered in. Like a herd of giant horses riding across the roof above them, FlameOrbs clattered into the Al-Drechar's shield. Light flashed all around them, orange, yellow and white sheeting through cracks in the barricades and washing across the orchard behind them. The shield fizzed as it struggled to repel the attack. Hirad hunched reflexively, the barrage of noise hurting his ears despite his hands over them. It was deafening, shuddering the floor beneath his feet and rattling the doors in front and the slate over his head.
He turned to see Erienne and Denser running up and he managed a smile but couldn't hear what the Xeteskian said to him, shrugging his shoulders and pointing at an ear.
Behind him, Orbs splashed down into the exposed orchard, sending flame scattering across the sodden trees, boiling away water and catching hold, crackling and spitting. Trotting to the barricaded doors, he looked out, saw no other trouble and jogged back, a thumb up in response to The Unknown's look.
More light and a crunching sound as a spell breached the barrier, thudding into the roof. All eyes looked up anxiously but elsewhere the shield was still holding and the noise right above them subsided as the barrage died away, to be replaced by echoing rumbles to their right.
“EarthHammer,” said Denser. “They're attacking the wings.”
Hirad's ears were ringing from the attack. Behind him, the orchard was blazing in a swathe twenty yards wide and above they could just hear the sound of the one FlameOrb spell, eating at the wood and slate.
The noise increased over the wings. Vibrations rattled under their feet and the sound of a detonation echoed across the hallway, FlameOrbs exploding in enclosed spaces. In the first light of morning, the spell flashes were bright and stark, filling the shadows that still dominated the house.
“Aeb, alert your brothers and Darrick. They'll think they have an entry point,” said The Unknown.
“Yes,” said Aeb.
A further flurry of spells smacked across the shield above their heads and then for a few precious moments the world was quiet.
“Ready Raven,” said The Unknown. He drew his elven blade and tapped it one-handed on the stone flags at his feet.
Seamlessly, they formed up. The Raven's favoured chevron in the centre of a semicircle that sealed the main entrance. Hirad stood to The Unknown's right, Aeb to his left. Three Protectors stood to either flank and behind knelt the mages.
“HardShield up,” said Denser.
“IceWind ready,” said Erienne.
The doors shuddered under heavy impact.
“Spell?” asked Hirad.
“No,” said Ilkar.
Another impact. The doors creaked ominously. Hirad shifted his stance, grip moving on his sword. He could hear shouts outside and the running of feet as the Dordovan soldiers massed. Bring them on, he thought, letting the metronomic sound of The Unknown's blade flow through him, bringing him the strength it always did.
“This time,” said The Unknown.
Third time, the battering ram of a tree trunk crashed straight through the centre of the doors, sending splinters to bounce off Denser's HardShield. There was a roar from outside, the trunk was hauled out of the way and in the diminishing gloom Hirad could see a mass of armoured bodies charging his way.
Through the gap flashed arrows and crossbow bolts, again ricocheting off the shield and, hard on their heels, FlameOrbs savaged through the broken entrance, splashing against Ilkar's spell shield and setting fire to the wood surrounds.
“Holding,” said The Unknown, who hadn't so much as flinched as the spells and missiles came in. “Here come the swords.”
And indeed, on the back of another pair of FlameOrbs, they did, pouring up to the doors and through, shouting as they came at the steady Raven line.
“Erienne, as you will,” invited The Unknown.
Behind them, Erienne stood. “Duck,” she said.
The warriors did and the IceWind roared over their heads, smashing into the front rank of Dordovans, shouts cut off as they stumbled and fell, faces frozen in fear, fingers and weapons shattering as bodies struck the floor. The charge faltered and The Raven warriors stood.
“Come on!” roared Hirad. “We're waiting.”
In they came. The Unknown's blade tapped, dagger in his left hand. The tapping ceased and The Unknown brought his blade up, left to right, and thrashed it through the guard of the first man, catching him in his upper chest. His blade carried on through the man's lower jaw, The Unknown's strength stopping him in his tracks and sending his body backward, blood spattering all over.
Next to him, Hirad blocked a sword easily, jabbing with a fist as he thrust the attacker back. He stumbled but came on, feinting left and striking right. Hirad blocked again but this time reversed his blade back across the enemy's chest, seeing it slice through cloth and leather armour. The enemy gasped, staggered to his right and took a Protector axe clean through the top of his head.
The space in front filled with Dordovan soldiers. Left and right the Protectors, wide-spaced and double-weaponed, forged their awesome silent warfare. Aeb, his sword keeping Dordovans from the left side of The Unknown, was devastating with his axe, batting flat bladed and delivering massive overheads and flank blows. But as the bodies fell, the press increased and The Raven were slowly edged back.
The Unknown caught a sword blow on his dagger and twisted the blade away left, opening up his opponent's chest. Needing no second chance, the big man plunged his sword through the chain mail, the man falling backward. Wrenching the blade clear, his hip locked and he lost balance momentarily, stumbling forward, crying out in sudden unexpected pain.
Seeing an opportunity, a blow flashed in from the left. The Unknown, in no position to block it, waved his dagger in the way but saw the attack pushed aside by Aeb. The huge Protector thundered his axe through neck-high, catching the man just above the shoulder blade and carving all the way through to his spine. He was thrown into the enemy line. Not pausing, Aeb dragged The Unknown back, the line reformed.
Hirad, chopping down on a half-hearted blow, breathed a sigh of relief, dragged his opponent to him with his free hand, head-butted him on the top of his nose, thrust the stunned man away and ripped his blade through his groin. The Dordovan fell screaming.
Squaring up, Hirad sought his next target and then the doors from the orchard exploded behind him.
Darrick saw the mages flying above the orchard, moving fast and away out of sight. Turning back to his defence, he could hear Dordovans advancing through the rubble behind the doors to the first wing.
To his right, a spell exploded against the second wing's doors, shattering them, the Protectors who had been standing aside, now turned into the action, blades chopping down and the sounds of dying men echoing into the corridor.
There was a thud in front of him and urgent voices sounding behind the doors.
“Clear,” he warned. The trio of Protectors flattened themselves against the walls. “Let's get in there fast and
we might get the mages.”
Slight nods indicated they both heard and agreed.
Without further warning, the doors rattled and burst in on their hinges, slapping back against the walls. Darrick turned his head away as dust and splinters sprayed out and the ForceCone spent itself against the orchard wall.
“Now!” he yelled, leading the charge into the corridor, the Protectors carrying swords only in the close quarters of the passage, flanking him.
Darrick laughed at the surprise on the faces of the mages and warriors he faced. He crashed his blade through the stomach of the mage immediately in front of him before he had a chance to move, Protectors on either side, the third just behind.
With awesome speed, they moved ahead, cutting and slashing into the Dordovans, chopping down mage and warrior alike, blood smearing the walls and the cries of the dying filling the corridor. Darrick came forward again but the enemy broke and ran, Protectors making to chase them.
“Stop!” ordered Darrick. “Fall back.”
They ran back to the relative safety of the main corridor. Darrick glanced over his shoulder, figures were moving.
“Down!” he yelled.
They hit the ground on either side of the door, and rolled. A heartbeat later, FlameOrbs roared into the corridor splashing over the walls and thundering through the empty window frames, fires licking at exposed wood.
Darrick got to his feet and found the Protectors already standing, watching him.
“Patience,” he said.
That was something the Protectors had in abundance.
Ren scoured the sky, bow relaxed but arrow nocked and ready. Shapes had rushed across, too fast for her or her people to follow. They were looking for trouble no doubt, angling to land inside the house while their forces occupied both Raven and Protector alike. She could hear the sounds of fighting from the front door and behind her, dull thuds signified attacks from the wings.
A whistle from her left and she looked. The Guild elf pointed up and right. Ren followed the finger. Eight mages, descending fast. The warning went round the orchard. Bows were bent, waiting.
Ren breathed deep and regular, watching her target as it moved, swirling in the air. The sky was lightening but clouds were gathering and the wind was getting up quickly, gusts whipping at the drifts of leaves in the orchard and fanning the flames to the right near the doors to the entrance hall.
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