Elfsorrow lotr-1

by James Barclay

  The Raven rode hard or walked their horses at a march for the whole day, once stopping briefly for a meal. Their direction would take them close to but east of Understone on a route that would keep them hidden from the town, with Darrick assuring them that ideal cover and a base for their attack was only a mile or so the other side.

  Ilkar hoped and prayed he was right. At times during the day the pain became all but unbearable but he refused to cast to dull it or ask them to slow to ease it. There was fire in his veins and venom in his muscles. His stomach felt like it was being eaten from the inside, there was a rattle every time he took a breath and his heart beat off-rhythm, palpitating, slowing and pounding such that he felt it would crash through his ribs. His eyes played tricks on him while his ears heard sounds that couldn't be – his mother's voice calming him, his tutor at Julatsa chiding him for laziness, the sound of the wind in the sails.

  Through it all he kept upright in the saddle and replied in the affirmative when any of them asked, and they asked so often it almost made him laugh, whether he was all right. Stupid question and they all knew it.

  It was past dusk when they stopped in a river valley into which rocks had tumbled in ancient times, creating a maze of streams and a patchwork of green and grey. Darrick had been right. It was ideal cover. The ClawBound loped in an hour or so later. Ilkar only dimly heard what Hirad and The Unknown said to the pair before they settled down to rest. By the time he had eaten, his ears roared with a sound like thunder and his body shook with cold although the night was mild and cloudy.

  'It's just us now,' Hirad said, more for the benefit of Ren and Darrick than the more seasoned members of The Raven. 'We have to work closely, move as one and keep on moving whatever we come up against. We faced down an army yesterday. Tomorrow we go to fight not talk. We all know why.'

  'We'll be moving just before dawn,' said The Unknown. 'Take the fight to them while they're still dull with sleep. We can't rely on Ilkar's defence because we won't know his condition one moment to the next but we're all right because they won't have spell attack. We'll be fighting without the TaiGethen or the ClawBound pair. They will attack as they must, all we've agreed are start points. Don't look to them. We're The Raven; we don't need anyone else. Not to defend, and not to help us.' He watched them all for reaction. 'Now, Aeb, you have something you need to say.'

  The Protector was standing at the periphery of the fire.

  'You were wrong to bring me,' he said. 'The Act of Giving will soon be rescinded. It is just a matter of time.'

  'It was a risk we were all happy to take,' said Denser.

  'Xetesk know we are here,' he said. 'They know what we seek.'

  'And when will they get here?' asked Hirad.

  'Tomorrow. Morning.'

  'Then,' said Thraun, surprising them with speech after another lengthy silence, 'we had better be quick.'

  Chapter 47

  When The Raven camp stirred, a light drizzle was falling. Ilkar had not slept much and looked every inch the dying elf. It was awful to witness. Shivering, Erienne kissed Denser, rose to her feet and breathed in deep. She felt the cool air rush into her lungs, banishing the fog she always felt around the entity of the One at first waking and easing the thumping in her head.

  The Al-Drechar hadn't spoken to her since that night in Blackthorne Castle and she was glad of it. They had opened the door a little further to power from the One and allowed her the freedom to handle it as best she could. And she had responded, working on partitioning her mind a third way to deal with the new power she alone on Balaia possessed. Further than that they had not offered questions or advice, leaving her and The Raven to do what they did best. And today was going to be a severe test of their belief. She wondered whether she dared employ what she had learned.

  Windmilling her arms to smooth out the knots in her muscles, she looked at them all preparing. In so many ways like so many other preparations. While they honed the edges of their swords The Unknown, Hirad, Aeb and Darrick talked quietly, refining tactics and attack order, with Thraun standing near, taking in everything. Next to Erienne, Denser sat cross-legged in meditation, focussing his mana and examining his stamina levels. Ever since the casting of Dawnthief, he had come to a new understanding of mana. It had made him an exceptionally efficient caster.

  Even Ilkar went through his routine, walking in tight circles, testing shapes and speed. Erienne wasn't sure if he was achieving anything in casting terms but it would keep his mind as far as possible from the dreadful fate towards which he marched.

  Only Ren was apart from it. The bags under her eyes and the puffiness of her face told their own story and she was just sitting on the grass, her back to a rock, staring out into nowhere. Her gaze occasionally crossed them all and she would shake her head.

  Erienne walked across and squatted down beside her. She had great respect for the quiet elven woman who had been such a source of strength to her in the long days that preceded Lyanna's death; when her desperation had been as keen as her grief subsequently became. Now the tables needed to be turned.

  'Hey, anyone there?'

  Ren'erei looked at her, a tear squeezing past her eye. 'I don't think so.'

  'Time to get ready,' said Erienne. 'Have you checked your bow and blade?'

  'Eh?' Ren frowned. 'Oh, yes.'

  She waved her hand vaguely at her bow, which rested against the rock next to her.

  'I'm no expert, Ren, but I always thought bows needed a string to work.'

  The elf crumbled and threw her arms around Erienne's neck, buried her head in her shoulder and cried hard. Erienne held her, looking around at The Raven and gesturing them to stay away. Even Ilkar stared on, his face creased with a guilt he had no right to be feeling.

  'Sorry. I'm sorry,' said Ren eventually, pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

  'It's all right. You probably needed it.'

  'Seems like I've been needing it constantly just lately.'

  'I know, Ren, but you have to put it aside for now. String your bow and be ready to fight with us.'

  The elf nodded and grabbed her weapon from its resting place. 'I don't know how you do it, any of you,' she said, fishing in her sack for her leather-wrapped bow string. 'He's dying and there's nothing we can do and yet you go on like nothing's happened.'

  'Don't ever talk that way,' said Erienne sharply. 'You have to believe. Ilkar's not dead yet and if Hirad believes we can save him, we all believe it and you must too. We've been here before. We've seen our friends die, and the best way we can honour them, if that's all it can be, is by doing the right thing. This time it's reclaiming the Yniss fragment and saving as many other elves as we can without losing any more of our people.

  'That's why we look so calm. It's because if we thought for one moment we might fail and that Ilkar might die, we'd already have lost. And The Raven do not like to lose.'

  'So I've noticed,' said Ren. 'But you're not even with him, talking to him. It could be the last chance you get.'

  'Fate decides that, Ren. And, who knows, he could survive the trip to Calaius. Until he dies, we believe we can save him.'

  'But-'

  'No buts, Ren. It's as simple as that.' Erienne pushed herself upright. 'It's the only way to think. Come on.'

  She held out a hand and Ren accepted it and pulled. The two walked back to the centre of the camp.

  'We all ready?' asked Hirad.

  'Yes,' said Ren decisively.

  'Good, then let's be on our way.'

  The Raven walked out of the camp. Hirad put an arm around Ren's shoulder.

  'It's all right to feel like you do. We all do. But do it later. Right now, we have work to do and we need you.'

  'You do?'

  Hirad shrugged. 'Of course. You're Raven.'

  Behind them, Erienne smiled. Denser was beside her and they watched as Ilkar walked as easily as he could to Ren's other side and laid his arm across her shoulders too. She responded, wrapping an arm around each of their waists.


  'A picture of the professional mercenary approaching battle,' said Denser.

  Erienne jabbed him. 'Leave them be.'

  'How's the body this morning, Ilks?' asked Hirad.

  'Agony,' said Ilkar. 'But I'm walking.'

  'Good. Can't spare anyone to carry you, anyway.'

  'Your sympathy overwhelms me.'

  'I do my best.' Hirad looked across Ren to Ilkar, and Erienne could see his expression in profile, picked out in the vague pre-dawn light. It was desperate, still disbelieving. 'Anyway, the pain won't last for ever. It's only twenty-odd days to the temple.'

  Ren tensed but Ilkar laughed. 'I'll attempt to keep my insides from decomposing too much before we get there.'

  'Bloody right,' said Hirad. 'I'm not sharing a cabin with you if you smell.'

  Their chuckles echoed a little loud.

  'Keep it down,' said The Unknown.

  It was only a mile to Understone. Auum watched The Raven go, ambling away down the slope like they were out for an early-morning stroll. He heard their talk and laughter and shook his head.

  'Perhaps my assessment was premature,' he said.

  'It's their way,' said Rebraal. 'We pray to ease the tension and fear, they talk to keep their minds from it until the moment arrives.'

  'I will never understand strangers,' said Auum.

  The TaiGethen bowed their heads and prayed to Yniss to keep them strong for the fight to come. Auum murmured offerings to Tual while he painted Duele's face, and when all three were ready they stood with the ClawBound.

  'Fight with us, Rebraal. You are our link to The Raven so keep close. This day we will start to right the crimes committed against us. This day I will hold the thumb of Yniss in my hand or I will be travelling to meet him to account for my failings in this life. This I swear.'

  The TaiGethen jogged from the camp, heading for the eastern edge of Understone, Rebraal with them. The ClawBound, swift and sure, were just ahead. Auum felt no thrill, just a sense that Yniss might once again be prepared to look their way.

  And the god would be looking down when the desecrators and thieves and those who thought to kill his people paid. The Raven looked down on Understone. It was quiet. Along the single street the ramshackle buildings still stood: the inn, the grain store, the boarded-up traders' offices, the whorehouses, a few homes. Elsewhere the ground was covered with tents and shelters, all dark and silent. There were over a hundred of them. The only life was in the stockade at the western end of the town. Fires burned around the rampart and lanterns shone from barracks windows. They could see figures walking the raised platform. After the end of the second Wesmen wars, the town had been rebuilt in the image of the old in the hope of renewed trade with the west and just as quickly abandoned again. Only the stockade had remained staffed.

  'That'll be where Selik is,' said Hirad.

  'All in good time,' said Darrick. 'We'll do this in the right order and be the safer for it.'

  They moved quietly now, heading for the first tents. Spread panic, Darrick had said. Target the tattoos. Let them make the moves and see who is prepared to fight. Not many, guessed Hirad, but time would tell.

  Fifty yards from the tents and all was according to Darrick's plan. The bulk of the Black Wings were looking after themselves in the stockade and the innocents, if you could truly call anyone that who had travelled here to fight with Selik, were unguarded in their tents. They didn't understand conflict. Didn't realise the vulnerability of masses of men to targeted magical attack. Why should they? They were tradesmen.

  'He'll have paid mercenaries too,' said The Unknown. 'We'll know them when we see them.'

  'Paid,' mused Hirad. 'An unfamiliar idea for us these days.'

  'Erienne, Denser, ready?'

  The pair nodded, preparing, melding their constructs for wider effect.

  'A short sharp shower. When it's down, we go and we don't stop,' said Darrick. 'Is everyone clear?'

  'Ilks?' asked Hirad.

  'My ears are on the side of my head not in my gut, Hirad. Yes, I hear and understand.'

  'Just checking.'

  Hirad felt a touch on his back. 'Thank you.'

  Hirad readied himself, checked his hilt for loose binding again and angled the blade to see the edge. The drizzle had stopped and the cloud was shifting. It would be a bright dawn. A few birds began to call. From somewhere the bleating of a sheep carried over to them. It was tranquil. Just for a moment.

  'Casting,' said Denser faintly.

  HotRain filled the sky above the southernmost tents. For a while they watched it fall, tears of flame the size of thumbs. Thousands of them. People were going to die in terror. So be it. From the stockade the first shouts of alarm were raised. HotRain struck canvas and canvas burned. The screaming began.

  'Raven!' yelled Hirad. 'Raven with me!'

  He ran towards the first tents, seeing movement bulging against the canvas. The HotRain shower was almost gone but it had done its job, deluging the acre of canvas in flame. Everywhere smoke was rising, fires agitated at rope and cover and the pitch of voices rose with every heartbeat.

  He slashed at the guy ropes of the nearest tent and thumped his hilt against a shape inside, sending the victim sprawling.

  'Run!' he shouted. 'Run!'

  A head emerged from a flap. Hirad smashed his fist into it and dragged the body out, his clothing smouldering. He pulled their faces close.

  'Run. Don't look back. Take your friends.'

  The man jabbered as Hirad dropped him, then he wiped blood from his mouth and took to his heels away out of Understone.

  The Raven roared through the burning campsite. Aeb laying about him with his axe, smashing ridge poles, splitting skulls and kicking burning canvas into the air. Thraun was howling like the wolf he had once been and, like Hirad, was shouting at men to run and not look back. The Unknown and Darrick strode in behind, the mages at their backs, preparing again.

  Utter mayhem descended. Swords slashed, burning men flailed uselessly, cries crescendoed and the choking smoke thickened. Hirad turned on a pair of men standing with swords ready; neither was fully dressed, neither a soldier. He sprang at them, hacking downwards as he landed, his blow striking the blade of one and jarring it from his hands.

  'What are you waiting for? Fight or run, I'm happy either way.' He switched his grip three times, very fast. The men turned and ran to join those pouring into the main street and away. Most of them headed out of the town but a few went up towards the stockade in which activity must be starting in earnest.

  'Raven!' called The Unknown. 'Move on!'

  The campsite was pitched next to the grain store. The Raven gathered by its rear doors, out of sight of the stockade, hauled them open and ran inside. Auum saw the signal. The rain of fire from the sky. He sprinted into the town on the north side of the main street and headed for the second tent encampment. The elves would spread their fear in another way entirely. The ClawBound panther roared and leapt at the nearest tent, her bound-elf at her side, slicing through the bindings.

  Auum and his Tai split. His blade carved open the side of a tent, revealing all those inside, five of them just coming to waking. Very slowly. Auum whipped his sword into the upturned face of one, stamped down on the head of the next and moved through the panicked tent, his blade flickering, his feet jabbing out. Taking a man through the eye, he leant in to the last survivor and used the word he had been taught.

  'Run!'

  He peeled away. Screams filled the air around him. The panther had torn the throat from a stranger and by her, the bound-elf faced a man carrying a sword he had no idea how to use. He swung it but the elf simply stepped inside the blow and rained straight-fingered blows into his exposed neck, blood spraying over his face. The man dropped. The ClawBound moved on.

  Auum tracked them through the camp. Duele emerged from a tent right, a survivor racing in the opposite direction. Evunn had split the stomach of a stranger stupid enough to face him and was moving on towards the
main street. The panther darted around the camp, roaring at every turn, growling deep, teeth and claws lashing out, scraping rents in tent sides.

  The sound of voices was a babble of fear. Auum smiled mirthlessly, watching the strangers run, many only part-clothed. Across the street, the other camp burned fiercely and through the tumult he could hear The Raven. Like causing a stampede of animals. The night, the fire, the smell of blood and the threat of steel. Too easy. But down on the street, up towards the end of the town where the stockade stood, it would be more difficult. Men were gathering.

  It was time to move. Lanterns were alight in the grain store, which had become a dormitory for three dozen and more. The Raven hauled the doors back to see men in the act of scrambling to put on clothes and belt weapons. Sleep was muddling minds and the storm that came at them stoked their confusion.

  'Run or die!'

  Hirad chased in, The Raven forming around him. The Unknown left, Darrick right.

  'HardShield up,' said Denser.

  Already some of their opponents were running for the opposite door but others faced them, one with the Black Wing tattoo. Hirad swung his sword right to left, clashing against an enemy blade, driving the man back. He rebalanced, jabbed forward – the blow turned aside – easily blocked the riposte then swept his blade up in a left to right diagonal, catching the man in the base of the gut. He fell back, entrails boiling from his stomach.

  Next to Hirad The Unknown wasn't wasting as much time. His first strike crushed the ribs of his opponent and he stepped forward across the falling corpse, deflecting a blow with his dagger and driving his sword into the exposed midriff of the next man. Simultaneously, Aeb delivered a massive flat-bladed axe blow, catapulting his enemy from his feet to crash into the man behind.

  The survivors wavered but the Black Wing brought them on. He snapped out a command for order and came at Hirad. He whipped in a quick jab which Hirad blocked, followed up with high strikes to either side of Hirad's head which the barbarian ducked and deflected respectively before being cut at the top of his sword arm. He swore.